Page 89 of Wrongfully Magicked
Cassius doesn’t pretend to do anything else but blatantly watch me. His bright green eyes are unblinking, but I don’t miss the yellow specks of his basilisk peering out at me.
“Wait.” I blink in surprise. “You’re not wearing your glasses.”
Without his glasses, he looks different. You’d think he’d appear less intimidating, but it’s the opposite. His gaze is so piercing, so intense, it’s like he’s reading my soul.
Most people would recoil from the uncomfortable sensation, but there is something steady in his gaze that dares me not to flinch or turn away. Maybe I’m an idiot—he is a basilisk and dangerous—but it’s not fear or stone that captures me when I look into his eyes.
It’s fascination.
Something about him draws me to him. I’m not sure if it’s the mile-high walls he’s put around himself or the way he isolates himself from everyone, but I recognize the loneliness clinging to him.
I’ve been struggling with the same thing my whole life.
Being so isolated can be debilitating. It’s nearly impossible to drag yourself out of the pit once you’ve hit bottom, so I throw him a lifeline and don’t look away from his gaze. “I can make breakfast. I can’t guarantee it will be good, but it will be filling.”
Humor brightens his eyes, but he turns away before a smile can escape, waving his arm toward the counter. “Already done, little rabbit.”
My stomach rumbles at the delicious smells, but when my fangs throb and threaten to lengthen, I freeze. My eyes widen in panic, and I tentatively run my tongue over my teeth, afraid of what I would find. Cassius steps closer and pinches my chin before I can retreat. His thumb pulls my bottom lip down, and he rubs the pad of his thumb along my teeth, lingering on my newly emerged fangs, and my gums throb at his nearness.
“Most fangs appear around puberty and react with our hormones. It takes a while to get used to them popping up all the time.” He smirks, and I struggle not to blush. He drags his thumb over my bottom lip once before releasing me andstepping back, and I immediately miss his touch. “The size and length of the fangs differ from species to species. We will teach you how to control your fangs and venom.”
CASSIUS
The scent of sex lingers on her skin like a perfume. I should be repulsed that others were pawing at her all night, but when I walked in on them this morning, it wasn’t jealousy I felt.
I’m not usually one to share a female, and I limit my contact with the opposite sex as much as possible, but my cock throbs at the idea of sitting in the corner of the room and telling the others how she should be touched.
After she was taken yesterday, any idea of keeping my distance vanished. I was so worried I would harm her that I ignored the factotherswanted to do her harm, and that thought enrages me.
No one is allowed to lay a finger on her.
I’m unable to repress my possessiveness any longer. She belongs to us.
No one is allowed to take her, not even death.
To keep from barging in on the guys and laying my own claim, I occupied myself by cooking breakfast. I might have gone a little overboard, and I rub the back of my neck when I survey the dozens of dishes scattered across the counters. Cooking didnothing to soothe my beast, my basilisk desperate to see our fang marks decorating her neck.
When Anita grabs a banana muffin and takes a big bite out of it, my beast finally settles, oddly pleased she’s eating the food we prepared.
While most beastlings like to consider themselves human in some respects, I do not.
The first part of mating for most beastlings is providing food for our potential mate. That she accepted my offering shows her interest. Logically, I doubt she’s aware of it, but that’s fine by me. It will give me enough time to woo her properly.
I know I’m not mating material, not for someone like her, but I am an excellent hunter and fighter, and I would make a good addition to her pack.
Our first priority is to keep her safe. It’s an impossible mission for one man alone.
No, she needs all of us.
I’m a patient man, and the rest can come later.
“So you’re saying I’m going through puberty again?” Though there is humor in her voice, the way her nose curls in disgust is adorable.
I turn away before she can catch my amusement. “Beastlings usually change at puberty, but each species is a little different.”
Anita nods, nibbling absently on the muffin, and my chest puffs up that she’s eating what I provided. “It’s the same for magic users. Most of us come into our abilities around our teen years. A few can take longer, while some with stronger abilities manifest earlier. I’ve already been through this once. Why am I being forced to go through it again?”
When she sets her muffin down, I can’t help but scowl. I grab one of the few empty plates, then hand it to her with a silent prompt for her to grab more food. It’s only when she absently takes it and fills it that my shoulders relax.
