The Bound Witch (The Osseous Chronicles, #3)

by Ivy Asher

“You’re fucking exquisite,” he puffs back, cupping my cheek and kissing me softly.

I’m a bound witch, and maybe, just maybe, that’s a good thing.

He shakes his head, ashamed, an indignant scoff sneaking out of his full lips. “I didn’t want to make room for you,” he admits, bringing his hand to his chest and placing it over his heart. “I didn’t want to see that you’d already sunk inside of me so deeply that there wasn’t a me without you anymore. It was the wrong time, too fast, too uncertain, but there you were all the same,” he tells me, gesturing to his heart.

“I love you, Lennox,” he tells me evenly with absolutely no hesitation. “I love you in the way that grows as we grow together. The kind of love worth fighting for, that has me waking up every day grateful and willing to do whatever it takes. I know what you did for Elon, because it’s the same thing you did for me. You’re the light in the darkness. The stars that guide you home when you’re lost. You carry the broken from battle and lift the drowning from the clawing cold that’s trying to claim them. You slay the demons.”

“It’s probably too early to tell. We are new to this whole love thing, but the potential is definitely there.”

Get a hold of yourself, woman. We’ve got serious shit breathing down our necks. Now is not the time to daydream about nibbling on some beefy ass cheeks.

“Because I had met someone who made me want to run to them instead of away...and then I lost her. I was fed up with backing down and fleeing. It was time to make them pay.”

Well, if that isn’t the most romantic damn thing.

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to war we go.

Come on, body, we can’t let him think he’s got it like that already. We’re still early stages, make him work for it.

“I’m not in a cage now, motherfucker, let’s play!”

Curiosity killed the cat, and it sure as hell might come for an Osteomancer too.

Do not gulp, Lennox. There will be no audible gulping to the offer of two dicks, a vagina, four hands, and a whole lotta enslavement.

Come on, you are Lennox Osseous, the freakin’ Osteomancer of all Osteomancers,

I mean, I did almost get in a fight with a drawer knob earlier, who am I to judge a sweatshirt beat down?

I want you back right where you’re always meant to stay,”

Fake it until you make it, right?

Wouldn’t that be a story: Remember that time we both died because I leapt without thinking in the shower? Never leap without thinking in the shower.