Broken Bond - Callie Rose Page 0,48

dried grass. “Oh? My powers?”

Her tone is cautious and carefully bland, as if she knows we’re both walking through a minefield with this conversation.

“Yeah. Your powers.” I whirl around, my fingers clenching into fists as I stare her down. She’s a breath of fresh air with her silky blonde hair reflecting the heavy sunlight and her blue-gray eyes as deep and murky as a lake’s secrets. As much as I love this land, I might love her more. “I hate it. I hate all of this. I hate that I can’t separate you from the magic you possess. It’s fucking with my head, fucking with my heart, because I still want you.”

Sable blinks rapidly a few times. “Dare, you must know I would never hurt you.”

“Wouldn’t you? You don’t exactly have control over your powers,” I point out.

She looks crestfallen, and I want to punch myself in the face. I know Sable wouldn’t hurt me. The Sable I spent time with at the cabin prior to her transition wouldn’t have hurt a fly, much less hurt me. But her witch side…

She doesn’t have control.

And no matter what dinky little lessons Archer gives her, she’s never going to fully have control without a real witch to teach her, and that can never fucking happen. She could hurt us just by being near us.

“Have I ever told you about the attack on my pack?” I ask her, trying to keep the bite out of my voice. I can tell by the flush in her cheeks that I’m not successful.

“No. Tell me now.”

“The witches tested our defenses for weeks.” Every word falls from my tongue with a twinge of heartache. “My pack was on full alert. We had twenty-four-seven patrols. We knew where they were getting close, and we worked at keeping the boundaries secured. We weren’t caught off guard. We knew they were there.”

Her eyes narrow at me in the sunlight. “So what happened?”

“There were two smaller attacks. We lost less than five people, and it almost seemed laughable. Those bitches thought they could beat us?” My chuckle is bitter and full of regret. “The final attack came out of nowhere. Broad daylight. Twenty witches, maybe more. They beat our defenses, and they beat us. My pack fought bravely, but in the end, we were overpowered.”

Sable’s eyes sparkle with unshed tears. She presses her hand to her lips, but remains silent.

“Many died,” I say, letting my gaze slide past her. In the distance, the mountains look like a Hollywood backdrop. Just misty enough to not be real, but so vividly detailed they couldn’t be anything but. “Those who didn’t die—women, children, the elderly, very few people, mind you—they fled. I don’t even know where they are now. Safe, I hope.”

I let my last thought remain unspoken. How it’s been years, but I can’t forgive myself. I won’t forgive myself for allowing it to happen.

Sable pauses for an infinitesimal moment, then takes several sure steps toward me. Her small hands rise to my cheeks, and her fingertips are cool and steady as she cups my face.

“You know it isn’t your fault, right?” she asks. “You fought with everything you had. You didn’t allow it to happen. You did everything to stop it. And you’re still fighting to this day.”

Her hands on my face have rendered me deaf and mute. I stare down at her sweet, earnest face. She’s an innocent—spent the majority of her life trapped in a house, a prisoner in her own life. Yet somehow, she came out of that nightmare so fucking wise.

I reach up and mimic her grasp. I cup her soft face in my hands, reveling in the softness of her skin, the warmth just beneath the surface.

I don’t know when I make the decision. It isn’t some epiphany or some blast of total clarity. It’s just… Sable.

I kiss her.

Her lips are hot and soft beneath mine, tentative at first. But I press right through her insecurities, parting her lips with my tongue and dipping into her honeyed-sweetness like I own it.

She moans, the sound deep in her chest. It sends a signal straight to my dick, and I return the sound in kind, spinning her around and pressing her back against a nearby tree. I lean into her, deepening the kiss, her breasts crushed to my chest, her thighs slightly spread as I press against her. My hands are everywhere—her face, her neck, her chest, her waist. Heat flashes over me, making it hard for me to