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That they were bodies crafted by the Hecate line, designed to live forever and house the things inside them. Without those Vessels, they burned through human bodies within a year.
“One day, you will owe me a favor for this. You will give me anything I ask of you,” he said softly.
“If it is order that you value, then I will bring you nothing but chaos.”
“I very much look forward to reminding you how much I hate you when I bury my cock between your thighs.”
One thing was clear. I wanted to fuck Willow Madizza. She’d just have to be awake when I did it.
“Maybe then you’ll see me the way you seem inclined to pretend you do.” The smile drifted off my face slowly, leaving me to gape up at him as the meaning of the words struck me in the chest. That guilt resumed its grip on me, and it was only through a careful mask that I brightened my smile all over again even as I dreaded what his admission might mean of what I’d suspected to be interest. Correctly, it seemed. Iban leaned in, touching his lips to my cheek sweetly and lingering just a moment past what was appropriate. “Enjoy your games, Willow, but just know I play to win.”
“I still don’t like you,” I muttered, stepping back as I tried to compose myself. I braced myself, keeping a damper on my emotions. With his blood fresh in me, he’d have greater access. But not if I didn’t feel. He grinned, a soft chuckle leaving him as he stepped around his desk. “And I still intend to fuck you, Witchling.”
“It’s called the devil’s eye,” he explained, his voice solemn as he said the words. “It enables Him to watch you more closely.”
“I think it’s time you acknowledge that it is too late to save yourself from me, love.”
“You fight. Every moment of every day, you fight. Because that is who you are,” he whispered, dropping his forehead to mine. “What happens when I’m tired of fighting?” I asked, trying to ignore the pool of tears threatening to fall. Hoping the water from the shower would wash them away before he could notice. His face softened, his lips touching mine in a kiss that was so much more delicate than any other. “Then you let me do it for you.”
“I cannot love you in this form,” he said, his voice softening as he took my other hand in his and rested it atop the chest of his other body. His true body. “But I can in my own. Let me love you as you deserve, Witchling.”
