Harper propped himself on Ash’s chest and pouted. “I don’t want to nap all day.”
 
 Ash quirked a brow. “No?”
 
 Harper shook his head. He adjusted his glasses.
 
 Ash trailed his fingers down Harper’s spine. “What would you like to do?”
 
 Harper flashed an evil grin and climbed on top of Ash, straddling his hips, their soft cocks brushing as he braced his hands on Ash’s chest. “I want to keep exploring.” He rolled his hips and his cock stiffened against Ash’s.
 
 “Is that so?” Ash teased, gripping Harper’s hips. He sat up and toppled Harper backward, pressing him into the mattress.
 
 Harper let out a surprised laugh, his legs flailing.
 
 Ash grabbed his ankles and brought them over his shoulders, leaning down and bending Harper in half. The position had a delicious intimacy to it. Ash thrust his hips, caressing Harper’s ankles as he held them in place.
 
 A leather band caught on Ash’s thumb. He paused, catching a hint of magic.
 
 Harper went completely still beneath him, his playful expression blanking.
 
 “Harper?” Ash let go of his ankles and lowered his legs.
 
 Harper’s eyes widened, his breathing shallow. He seemed frozen and increasingly afraid.
 
 Ash’s pulse spiked. “What’s wrong?” He shifted off Harper and knelt beside him. Harper didn’t move. “Harper, what is it? Did you not like the way I handled you?”
 
 Harper averted his gaze and didn’t respond.
 
 Ash’s fire went cold, his gut twisting. He’d hurt his mate.
 
 But wait. Harper never shied away from telling Ash his limits. He was open about sex. He was only this avoidant regarding his situation with the witches.
 
 Ash glanced at the leather bracelet tied around Harper’s ankle. He’d missed it when he’d undressed him. Now that it had his attention, the spell trapped in the leather was obvious.
 
 Ash quickly analyzed the magic.
 
 The bracelet would disguise a witch’s magic from casual inspection, but not from Ash. If Harper were a witch, he’d have to be doing a lot more than wearing this to fool him. But if Harper wasn’t a witch, why wear the bracelet? There was absolutely no reason for a human to wear something with this particular spell cast on it.
 
 Was Harper a witch? How had he missed something like this?
 
 “Harper.” Ash paused, hating the tension. “Are you suppressing your magic?”
 
 Harper’s breathing shallowed, his chest rising and falling too fast. “I forgot… I forgot I was wearing that. It’s…it’s nothing.” He shook his head.
 
 Why was he scared? “It’s okay, Harper. It’s fine if you’re a witch.” And it was fine. Ash might grumble about witches, but this was Harper. His flower. There wasn’t anything he could learn about Harper that he wouldn’t accept.
 
 Harper made a small, strangled sound, and Ash’s heart clenched.
 
 His mate needed him.
 
 “It’ll be all right.” Ash grabbed Harper’s boxer briefs and passed them to him. Harper’s shirt was the one Ash had used to wipe him up, so he passed Harper his own as he pulled on his underwear.
 
 Harper seemed grateful for the clothes, adjusting them with trembling hands.
 
 As he dressed, Ash discreetly inspected him with his demon sense, searching carefully for any trace of magic, just as he’d done with Dante’s old house. Eventually, he detected something hidden. A powerful spell ran through Harper’s blood, suppressing any evidence of his magic. If Ash wasn’t a demon, he wouldn’t have seen through it.
 
 Harper’s gaze darted around the room, looking anywherebut at Ash, like he didn’t know what to do. Why was he so worried about this?
 
 Ash settled against the headboard, giving Harper space even though he longed to hold him close. “You can talk to me, Harper.”