Chapter Three Hundred Three
PAUL
The ride to my house is silent as the grave. Anastacia hasn’t said a word to me since her traumatizing phone call to her sister. Not one word. And despite that everything in me is begging to take her in my ans and kiss her fears away, I know she needs her space right at
the moment.
So… I give it to her.
But if I ever have to see her cry like that again… like she is all alone in the world and terribly afraid… I’ll lose it. In fact, even now, I’m on the edge of a shift. Just picturing her running for her life in the way she described on the phone to her sister almost has me hoping Draco does plan to grab the girl. Because, the moment I see him again, I’m going to rip his head from his neck just to have him claim another body. Why? So I can do it to him all over again, of course. I wonder how times I could do that to him before he finally gave in and just surrendered to the sunlight.
Would he tire of me constantly snapping his neck? Or would the sensation start to grow on him? Like a wart or a tumor.
One thing is for certain. I’m going to have that little fuck begging for mercy before he sees his end.
As we turn toward my street, I look over at Anastacia. “You’re not going to New Orleans, little demon. You’re not. She huffs in irritation, not even deigning to look at me, nor provide me with a response. “It’s what he wants. You have to know that.” She shrugs and I can’t help the helpless anger that rises in me when she does. “Anastacia-”
“NO PAUL!” She screams, her body quaking. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You haven’t even bonded me! Don’t you get it? Until you do? I’m not safe. Until then, I’m vulnerable.”
“Until then? Who said I was going to?” I don’t know why I say that way, but I do. Luckily, she’s too far gone in her own head to notice and she doesn’t even so much as glance at me. I don’t get the anger I was apparently hunting for at all. Not a bit of it.
“I need to get to my sister,” she says softly.
That’s when I notice the placement of her hand on the door handle and the way she’s suddenly wearing her brand new jacket and running shoes that we bought at the mall in Seattle.
She thinks she’s going to take off on me.
She thinks I’ll let her.
Ha. Oh no little demon. That’s just not going to happen.
I almost want to let her try, just so that I can catch her and stomp it into her brain. I’m not going to let her leave. She won’t escape me. I’m faster, stronger, bigger… running from me won’t be anything like running from those hounds. Especially because she can’t use her
magic on me.
Unless she can and she’s been lying about that part.
But no, I don’t really believe that part and it’s high time that I accept the truth. She’s my mate and I am hers and no matter what manner of being she is, witch, or frog, or demon, or angel… I want her and I am keeping her.
So, instead of pulling into my driveway, I roll right past my house.
“What the fuck?” she snaps. “Paul?! Where the hell are you going?”
I snicker, “You really think I’m going to let you take off and face this on your own? Really, baby? Do you think I don’t see you preparing to
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Chapter Three Hundred Three
bolt?”
Now, she looks at me. “Stop the fucking car Paul. Now!”
“Nope,” I say, picking up speed as we race downhill. “Not letting you do it.”
“Paul,” she growls, her beautiful black curls bouncing in anger. “I. Want Out.”
“Nah. I don’t think you do. You want to go to New Orleans and you want to save your sister.”
“Duh motherfucker and I know we’re mated and all that, but I swear to the Goddess above if you don’t let me out I’m going to-”
“I’m coming with you, I’ll take you,” I say finally, pulling up my phone to dial someone that I haven’t spoken to since I was sixteen years old.
The silence in the space is buzzing with purple mist, but the moment she hears my words,
