.Chapter 13-1
Simone
So, the cat was out of the bag.
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It had taken so much energy to dissolve the magic surrounding him that I must have blacked out. The magical net wrapped around his body had been intricate as hell, definitely not the work of an amateur witch. The complexity of it had been staggering, layers upon layers of malicious
spellwork designed to be permanent.
I’d dealt with magical curses before, but nothing like this. Most hexes were simple things, bad luck charms, minor compulsions, the occasional fertility curse some bitter ex would throw around. This had been a masterpiece of dark magic, woven with such skill and malice that it must have taken
incredible power to create.
Maybe Irene or Lunessa, two of the most powerful witches I knew, could have accomplished what I’d just done, but it would have taken them hours of careful work and left them weak for days. The fact that I’d managed to unravel it while fighting unconsciousness was either a testament to my
null abilities or sheer dumb luck.
Probably both, knowing my life. But then I remembered what he’d said, and I frowned at him.
“Why wouldn’t I be able to touch you?” I scowled.
Kane grimaced, his jaw tightening as he looked away from me. The sight of his bare chest, no longer on the brink of death, was making my heart do jumping jacks, which I was very much trying to ignore. The man was built for sin, all lean muscle and defined abs, with scars that only made
him more attractive instead of less.
The firelight played across his skin, highlighting every ridge of muscle, every old wound that told a story of violence survived. His shoulders were broad enough that I could probably hide behind
them, and the way his arms flexed as he moved made my mouth go dry.
Focus, Simone. He just asked you how you were able to touch him, which implies there’s a damn good reason why most people can’t.
I could see him struggling with whether to tell me the truth. His hands were clenched into fists, and
there was a vulnerability in his expression that I’d never seen before. This wasn’t the commanding king or the dangerous predator, it was just a man who’d been carrying a terrible secret.
My wolf was restless in my mind, wanting to comfort him, to soothe whatever pain was causing that haunted look in his eyes. The mate bond was pulling at me, demanding I reach out and touch him, reassure him that he wasn’t alone anymore.
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Chapter 13:1
And
you know what? For once, I was going to listen to my wolf instead of my brain.
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I reached out with my hand, ignoring the voice of reason screaming that there must be a very good reason why he thought people couldn’t touch him. My palm cupped his cheek, and his skin was warm and rough with stubble.
He flinched instantly and jerked back, horror washing over his features.
“Simone, don’t-!” he started, but then he stopped.
Because nothing happened.
I didn’t drop dead. I didn’t convulse or bleed from everywhere or any of the other horrible things that were clearly running through his mind. I just stayed there, my hand on his face, very much alive
and breathing.
The longer he stared at me and at my hand still extended toward him, the more stunned he looked. His green eyes were wide with disbelief, and I could see his chest rising and falling with rapid,
shallow breaths.
Slowly, cautiously, he leaned back in and placed his hand over mine as I moved to cup his face again. His fingers were trembling slightly, and I could feel the desperate hope radiating from him.
“I can,” I murmured, my thumb brushing across his cheekbone. “See?”
“Y-You’re–” he stopped, his breath catching. “You’re the first person to touch me in eighteen years,
Simone.”
I was shocked into silence for a moment. He’d been completely isolated from human contact since he left the castle? No wonder he seemed half-feral sometimes. No wonder he’d been living alone in the woods like some kind of hermit.
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