The Weaver's Source

Chapter 71

I stirred slowly, my mind hot with images of Grigore and my skin tingling sweetly from the sensation of his magic swamping me. Fingers traced my cheek and touched strands of curled hair with strong but gentle motions. My eyes opened softly, tinged red and pink as I gazed at Grigore sleepily. He was sat on the bed, dressed loosely in his breeches and shirt, his hair damp as he watched me with dark eyes. Hunger touched his gaze, hooding them and making them glitter, and his song brushed me, rustling up my magic and causing it to swamp me with rising need.

"Grigore." I murmured softly, the urge to touch him rising swiftly.

His hand froze and his muscles stiffened beneath his shirt, making him almost statue-like. Very slowly pulled his hand away, balling it into a fist and pressing it against his thigh. His song dampened and his gaze released me, letting me think for myself and very quickly grow a little panicked. He was hungry, I knew he was. I felt it rumbling about him, heating him with need. I knew what I had to do, I just wasn't sure I could.

"I used up a little too much of my magic last night." He stated, his voice thick. "More than I planned." He held out a stone for me to take, watching me darkly as I cautiously took it from him palm, trying my best not to touch him.

It was pale blue but not naturally and warmed my hand pleasantly as the security of Grigore's magic touched me. Hundreds of tiny wards littered it, all glowing a sea blue colour and masking the stone's true grey hue. There was a lot of magic surrounding it, complicated spells that sang seductively of Grigore. No wonder he was hungry. I swallowed thickly, my breath heavy as I prepared myself for him to feed but he stiffly stuck with the subject.

"It's a seeing stone and allows mages to see and speak with the human dead." Grigore explained rigidly and plucked the stone from my hand, pocketing it smoothly then fell quiet, turning away from me as he tore his hand through his hair with frustration. His hunger was growing worse and I knew I wasn't helping. My magic was warm, no doubt singing to him, but he was holding back stubbornly, locking his muscles into place and refusing to feed. He had to though. We were hunting a human ghost and he needed to have healthy reserves. The thought he'd suffer because I couldn't face feeding him just made me feel horribly guilty. My job was to keep him strong.

I sat up slowly, ignoring the shiver as the blanket fell away from me, revealing the strap that had slipped from my left shoulder and ties of my shift that had come undone, currently teasing the white flesh and pink buds of my breasts. I mumbled a frantic sorry and quickly began to tie my shift up, my heart pumping with embarrassment, but I was abruptly pushed backwards into the bed and my hands snatched from the string.

I abruptly found myself beneath him, his knee between my legs and a hand beneath my shift, gripping my thigh. My skin was burning up fast and my heart beat madly. He was everywhere, warm and tempting, turning my mind numb with the hunger glimmering in his black eyes as they roamed over me dangerously, slipping over the curve of my throat and breasts and lingering on my mouth. I didn't dare move, simply clutched at my shift, trying to keep my exposed breasts hidden from his roaming gaze and smothering my magic, desperate to keep my head. It was winning though. It burned through me, making the shift itch against my skin uncomfortably, encouraging me to bare myself to him and hold him close. My lips felt swollen with magic, my fingers burning with a need to feel the strong lines of his neck, and a gathering heat throbbed between my legs, crying out for him quietly.

Grigore's eyes hardened and he tightened his jaw as stubbornness settled in. I felt his resistance strong in him; frustration and fierce need breaking him down. Despite my heart thumping painfully, despite the fight between shy excitement and fear, I gently reached up to touch his face. He needed feeding. His safety was more important than my jumbled feelings for him.