A Werewolf, A Vampire, and A Fae Walk Into A Bar (Book 1 of The Last Witch Series) novel Chapter 24

I pry my gaze away from his huge--

“Can I be of service?” he asks, and dear heaven help me I just want to throw myself at this man.

“Um. Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

He takes another step closer, until our bodies are almost touching. “I don’t mind sharing.”

I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore. All I can think is 1: why aren’t we both naked? 2: how can I brush my teeth before this goes any further? And 3: who cares what my third thought is. Let’s go back to one.

Why aren’t we both naked?

I feel lost in the woods when I look into his eyes, and as his arm slides around my waist, pulling me against the hard length of his body, I go weightless.

He brushes his lips against my neck. “You feel it too.”

I don’t know what ‘it’ means, but yes, I certainly feel something.

He flicks his tongue against the spot he bit in the bath, and heat pools in my abdomen as my body aches in need of him.

“Careful, woman. You’re playing with fire.”

When he pulls away from me, I feel like a balloon that’s been deflated. And as he walks out, closing the door behind him, I lean against the bathroom counter and take a deep breath.

Damn him.

Once I can stand without shaking, I groom and dress for the day, then head to the living room.

The Sexies are still gathered around the table, and I wonder if they just stayed up all night staring at each other like weirdos--with the exception of Zev, of course, who at least had a brief break to torture me in the bathroom.

They explain that they did not, with Rune and Zev sleeping in shifts, while Darius of course remained awake since he’s a creature of the night.

While I slept, a few plans were hatched. I’m not allowed to travel without a guard, and I can’t be alone with just one prince until the pledge takes effect. Therefore, Rune and Zev will accompany me on my journey to see my grandma. Journey is their word, not mine--we’re driving like fifteen minutes down to Ipswich.

“What’s a Fate?” I ask, crashing Rune’s story before it even has a chance to begin.

“They were the original witches--sisters, who had great power,” Zev offers from the back. He leans forward and grips my seat, his fingers brushing against my arm, not that I’m paying attention to that. “In addition to their own kind, they created all races of magical beings.”

“The first witch created vampires from her blood,” Rune says, continuing as if Zev hadn’t interrupted. “The second turned a rib into the first of the wolves, and the third gave life to the fae with the air from her lungs.”

“Okay,” I say, skeptically. “So far it sounds like the parts of the Bible I find hardest to believe.”

“I’ve read your Bible and I don’t disagree,” Zev says with a gruff chuckle that sends shivers up my spine. “But the fae have documented history from the second generation of existence.”

“And vampires being what they are, many direct descendants of the Fate’s creation still live today,” Rune adds. “Darius is only three generations removed.”

Well, shit. Looks like the paranormals brought receipts.

“Fine, you’re all made from witch parts,” I concede as snarkily as possible. “What was the prophecy written on? One of the Fate’s arm fat?”