Page 10 of Sorcia's Heart
“It changes everything,” Marcus countered, his grip tightening just slightly, grounding her.“And you know it.”
She shook her head, her dark hair swaying with the motion.“No, it doesn’t.I won’t let it.”
He stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching again, his voice dropping to a whisper.“You can try to deny it all you want, Sorcia.But I felt it.And so did you.”
Her lips parted, her breath shallow, but she refused to answer.The weight of his words settled heavily in her chest, and for a moment, the room was filled only with the crackle of residual magic and the sound of their ragged breathing.
Finally, she wrenched her face away from his hand, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.“Just… stop.”
But Marcus didn’t move.He didn’t relent.His gaze bore into hers, unyielding, as he spoke the words that broke through every wall she’d tried to rebuild.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sorcia.Not this time.Not after what we just shared.”
Her heart clenched, her resolve faltering as the truth of his words sank in.Because, deep down, she knew he was right.
Marcus straightened, smoothing his slacks and zipping them up with practiced ease.Since she hadn’t bothered to take them off, the fabric was wrinkled but intact.His shirt, however, was beyond saving, the edges charred and curling.With a snap of his fingers, a new one appeared in his hand.He moved slowly, his gaze never leaving her as he slipped it on and began buttoning it, watching as Sorcia raised her hand.
A moment later, a silk robe flew from her closet, weaving itself through her fingers.She pulled it around her, tying the sash with a sharp tug, though Marcus wondered if she realized how the silk molded to her curves, highlighting every line of her figure like it had been made for her.
“We can’t… do that again,” she said, her voice low and uncertain, the words more for herself than for him.
Marcus finished fastening his shirt, slipping his feet into polished leather loafers.He sighed softly, the sound laced with a patience he rarely afforded anyone else.“You’re in danger, Sorcia.Your whole coven is in danger.And I’m here to help.”
Her eyes darkened, the flicker of anger he expected rising to the surface.But he held her gaze, his tone softening.“I know you don’t want to hear it, but stop for a moment.Think.Can you honestly tell me you haven’t felt anything unusual?Any unexpected reverberations in thesphaera?”
Her expression faltered, the telltale flicker of recognition in her eyes confirming what he already suspected.
“You felt something,” he said quietly, stepping closer.His hand reached out, catching the tails of her silk sash between his fingers.The softness of the fabric contrasted with the tension humming in the air between them.“Sorcia, if your coven is being challenged, we need to face it together.You’re powerful.Everyone knows that.Your witches love you, and they would do anything for you.”He paused, his voice dropping even lower.“But you’ve felt a disturbance.You know something is wrong.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out.He could see the struggle in her expression, the fierce determination to protect her coven warring with her deep-seated need to keep him at arm’s length.
Marcus let go of the sash and stepped back, giving her the space he knew she needed.He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the sofa, sliding his arms into the sleeves with smooth precision.Adjusting the collar, he glanced at her again, his tone steady but gentle.
“Why don’t you gather your high council tomorrow and see if they’ve felt anything, too?Then we’ll come up with a plan.If we need to involve other covens, we’ll do it together.But for now, let’s figure this out before it’s too late.”
He moved toward the door but paused, his hand resting on the doorknob.Turning back to her, his expression softened, though his eyes held a glint of mischief.“And yes, Sorcia, that really did happen.And itwillhappen again.You can deny it all you want, but I know you enjoyed every damn minute of it.”
Her cheeks flushed, and Marcus allowed himself a small smile.Whether her reaction was anger, embarrassment, or something in between, he didn’t linger to find out.He knew when to make a tactical retreat.
With one last look, he stepped through the door, the sound of it clicking shut echoing in the quiet loft.Sorcia stood frozen for a moment, her fingers tightening around the silk sash as she stared at the spot where he had just been.The air still crackled with the remnants of his presence, a mix of exasperation, lingering desire, and an undeniable truth she wasn’t ready to face.
Chapter 5
Sorcialeftherloftthe next day, her emotions warring in a chaotic storm—exhaustion, fury, and a gnawing edge of fear.She was exhausted from a sleepless night spent tossing and turning, unable to banish the memory of Marcus’s arms around her, the way his touch had ignited her body and quieted her restless soul.Furious because she knew she never should have let her guard down.That moment of bliss—raw, unfiltered, and achingly familiar—never should have happened.
But beneath the anger simmered terror.She was terrified of succumbing to him again, of letting him back into her heart where he could do the most damage.Marcus had been her world once.No, he’d been more than that.He had been the axis around which her life revolved.
Two years ago, she had believed she’d found her forever.She’d thought the sun rose and fell with him, that nothing in her life truly mattered until she’d shared it with Marcus.Every triumph, every challenge, every small joy—none of it felt real until he knew about it.The world had seemed brighter, fuller, more alive simply because he was in it.
The day they’d met was etched in her memory like an indelible mark.She’d tripped over a chair, spilled her coffee, and—like a complete fool—blurted out that he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.Sorcia, the poised, unflappable High Priestess, had turned into a stammering, dreamy-eyed mess over a male witch who had stolen her breath and her heart in a single moment.
But then… he’d destroyed her.
The betrayal cut deep, a wound so sharp and jagged it had ripped her apart from the inside out.She still remembered the searing pain of that moment, the way her chest had constricted as if the air had been sucked from the room.The memory of opening the envelope with the pictures of Marcus in bed with another woman was burned into her mind.It had felt like her entire world imploded, leaving nothing but ash and ruin in its wake.
The images were as vivid now as it had been then—the sheets tangled around their bodies, the smug satisfaction on the woman’s face, and Marcus’s look of startled guilt, picture after picture of them…together.Her stomach churned at the memory, bile rising in her throat.The humiliation, the heartbreak, the utterdevastationhad gutted her.She had fled, her chest heaving with sobs she’d barely held back until she was alone.
In the days that followed, her world spiraled into a dark abyss.The life she’d carefully built crumbled under the weight of her grief.She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus on anything but the shattering pain that consumed her.Her appetite vanished along with her will to carry on, and she’d wasted away, her vibrant presence within her coven dimming to a shadow of its former self.
