Page 93 of Spark of Sorcery
“Fuck,” Beaufort mutters. “He’s still fucking feral.”
I growl at him again and snap my teeth. I’ll give him fucking feral.
“It’s too dangerous,” Thorne repeats, shadows starting to weave from his bare hands. “You can’t see her like this.”
“She’s my mate. I need to fuck my mate,” I say, my own magic hissing in the air. “Pups conceived under a full moon are always the strongest.”
It’s instinct. It’s the pull of the moon. It’s in my blood. It’s in my fucking balls. Dictating my actions. Demanding them.
“Fucking hell,” Beaufort says, “you’re not impregnating anyone. Least of all our mate.”
“That’s what mates are for,” I growl at him. Then swing my gaze Thorne’s way when I hear the floorboard beneath his feet creak.
I hold one hand out in Thorne’s direction and one in Beaufort’s. I swing my gaze between them as they creep towards me.
“You’ll regret this,” I snarl.
I’m the strongest wolf in the realm. I’ll tear them to pieces if they stop me from seeing my kitten. My soft kittenwho I want on her hands and knees, purring as I thrust into her from behind. My scent spikes.
“Shit, that stinks,” Beaufort mutters. “He’s worse than usual. I didn’t think it would be that bad. Thank fuck she’s not here.” He takes a step towards me. “So much for a mate being a calming influence.”
“Let me through!” I growl. And then it happens. They both jump me at once. I fire magic at them and it collides with theirs mid-air, sparking and splintering.
I swing my fist, punching Beaufort’s cheek, feeling it crack. My knuckles crack too, but the adrenaline masks any pain.
I go to swing at him again, to sink my teeth into his shoulder, but then Thorne’s magic whips around my torso. I howl in agony, all the fight in me fleeing in an instant.
I sink to my knees, struggling to breathe. The pain is so intense, I feel like my brain is going to explode in my skull. I screw my eyes shut, clamping my jaw together, whimpering.
Bile sloshes in my throat. I might vomit. Instead, I pass out.
I wake to Beaufort shaking at my shoulder.
I blink open my lids and look up into his face. He has a bruise ringing his left eye.
“Did I do that?” I ask, yawning.
I look around. I’m in my bed, dressed in a pair of sweatpants. I’ve no idea how the hell I got here, or why the hell every part of my body hurts so much.
“Yeah,” Beaufort says, touching his cheek. “You were fuckingferal.”
“I was?” I grin, rolling up to sit, which fucking hurts. “What I do?”
“Only threatening to go fuck a litter of pups into the belly of our thrall.”
“Fuuuuuck,” I say, running my hand through my hair, only for my fingers to be caught in a web of tangles. “That sounds hot.”
“It’s not. She could’ve been hurt.”
“Maybe she would have liked it. Did we ask her?”
Beaufort scowls at me, which makes his cheek move. He winces.
“Why haven’t you healed it?” I ask.
“I was getting some sleep! We gotta be out of here in half an hour.”
“Oh, man!” I moan, yawning again.
