that touched every nerve with tingling warmness. Not as strong as it had been with the bond, but it was still strong enough to make her fangs sharpen and extend. Her body tensed, she started to sink a little, and she had to consciously think about breathing in and out to stay buoyant.
“What did the spirit tell you?” Mitchell asked. His voice was tight, but it wasn’t with anger. Amelia could hear the fear as clear as she could smell it, and she hated how that fear made her heart beat a little faster. The scent was sweet. It filled her lungs with each slow breath she took, and it made her gums itch with the relentless urge to bite him, taste him, have him.
“How could you ask them to do that to each other?” she countered hotly, ignoring his question. Her entire body was rigid, and she stood up in the water, unable to stay floating. She kept her back to him, not ready to look at him. She was sure that he hadn’t noticed the subtle changes in Eric, like his possessive hand clasped on Megan’s shoulder, gripping her tightly as they sat at the island, or the way he looked at her from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t the love-filled look he usually gave Megan. It was something entirely different, as if Megan was no longer a person, but a thing to own.
Mitchell didn’t answer her. The musical sound of his heartbeat, fluttered in a weakened rhythm, filling her ears, and the sweet, sweet scent of fear wafted about her. Her fangs snapped down fully, and her magic pulsed brighter. She flopped back into the water, and started to swim.
Mitchell glared down at her from the edge of the pool, as she swam lazy laps, enjoying the cool water brushing against her blazing skin. He was trying to look angry, but she noticed the slight curve of his lips as he tried to fight against the smirk that was trying to form. Clearly, he knew exactly what his fear was doing to her. He sighed, a gusty sound. “You left me no choice, love. Eric and Megan can help.”
Amelia bit her tongue on the nasty things she wanted to say, and swam up to the edge of the pool, resting her arms on the ledge. “You always have a choice, Mitch. You just rarely make the right decision.” She was about to point out that he also knew damn well that she’d been working on a solution, but she was cut off by his amused chuckle.
He crouched beside the pool and dropped his gaze. “Amelia, I’m dying.” A broken kind of smile stretched across his chiseled face and he heaved a sigh. “This isn’t the time to stand by and watch to see if you’ll figure it out. What did the spirit say?”
Amelia’s heart stopped beating and her chest squeezed tight. Dying. It was the first time he’d actually admitted it. He’ll come back, a cruel sounding voice said in the back of her mind, as if her soulmate dying was no big deal.
She reached out, running a finger along his sandpaper jawline. She let her hand trail down his neck, tracing his mark, before she tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her eyes. She didn’t know what she had expected to see there, but the intense love that shone through was more than a little overwhelming.
Mitchell caressed her cheek, and she melted into his touch. Her magic pulsed once, a happy little pulse, and then it dispersed, evaporating into the air. The angry fire that burned inside her gut calmed. She looked at him, really looked at him. And right then she knew she had to give into the urges. Not just for her, but for him.
“Love, I need to know. I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”
Amelia sighed and heaved herself out of the pool, sitting on the ledge. “That I have three days,” she said bitterly.
“Three days for what?” he coaxed, but the frightened light in his eyes told her that he already knew the answer.
“He told me you knew. That I needed to listen to you.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she sucked in a loud
“What did the spirit tell you?” Mitchell asked. His voice was tight, but it wasn’t with anger. Amelia could hear the fear as clear as she could smell it, and she hated how that fear made her heart beat a little faster. The scent was sweet. It filled her lungs with each slow breath she took, and it made her gums itch with the relentless urge to bite him, taste him, have him.
“How could you ask them to do that to each other?” she countered hotly, ignoring his question. Her entire body was rigid, and she stood up in the water, unable to stay floating. She kept her back to him, not ready to look at him. She was sure that he hadn’t noticed the subtle changes in Eric, like his possessive hand clasped on Megan’s shoulder, gripping her tightly as they sat at the island, or the way he looked at her from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t the love-filled look he usually gave Megan. It was something entirely different, as if Megan was no longer a person, but a thing to own.
Mitchell didn’t answer her. The musical sound of his heartbeat, fluttered in a weakened rhythm, filling her ears, and the sweet, sweet scent of fear wafted about her. Her fangs snapped down fully, and her magic pulsed brighter. She flopped back into the water, and started to swim.
Mitchell glared down at her from the edge of the pool, as she swam lazy laps, enjoying the cool water brushing against her blazing skin. He was trying to look angry, but she noticed the slight curve of his lips as he tried to fight against the smirk that was trying to form. Clearly, he knew exactly what his fear was doing to her. He sighed, a gusty sound. “You left me no choice, love. Eric and Megan can help.”
Amelia bit her tongue on the nasty things she wanted to say, and swam up to the edge of the pool, resting her arms on the ledge. “You always have a choice, Mitch. You just rarely make the right decision.” She was about to point out that he also knew damn well that she’d been working on a solution, but she was cut off by his amused chuckle.
He crouched beside the pool and dropped his gaze. “Amelia, I’m dying.” A broken kind of smile stretched across his chiseled face and he heaved a sigh. “This isn’t the time to stand by and watch to see if you’ll figure it out. What did the spirit say?”
Amelia’s heart stopped beating and her chest squeezed tight. Dying. It was the first time he’d actually admitted it. He’ll come back, a cruel sounding voice said in the back of her mind, as if her soulmate dying was no big deal.
She reached out, running a finger along his sandpaper jawline. She let her hand trail down his neck, tracing his mark, before she tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her eyes. She didn’t know what she had expected to see there, but the intense love that shone through was more than a little overwhelming.
Mitchell caressed her cheek, and she melted into his touch. Her magic pulsed once, a happy little pulse, and then it dispersed, evaporating into the air. The angry fire that burned inside her gut calmed. She looked at him, really looked at him. And right then she knew she had to give into the urges. Not just for her, but for him.
“Love, I need to know. I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”
Amelia sighed and heaved herself out of the pool, sitting on the ledge. “That I have three days,” she said bitterly.
“Three days for what?” he coaxed, but the frightened light in his eyes told her that he already knew the answer.
“He told me you knew. That I needed to listen to you.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she sucked in a loud
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