“
While she was enjoying this heady control, she decided to test a few minor spells on the werewolf—because it would be good practice, and by good practice she meant amusing for her.
She caused a root to hike up directly in front of his feet. When he tripped, she folded her lips in, biting back a laugh.
Magick . . . good.
For the next hour, whenever his boots came untied just in time for the laces to collect bullet ants, or limbs whacked him across the face, or he scarcely dodged bird and monkey droppings, he always regarded her with narrow-eyed suspicion. She would casually glance over at him with a “Whaaa . . . ?” expression.
But he hadn’t said anything, and as for her, well, she could do this all day—
Out of the corner of her eye she spied movement. What looked like a vine suddenly uncoiled from the ground and came flying toward her. With a shriek, she attempted a pulse of energy to ward it off. But MacRieve had already snatched the snake; her magick caught him and sent him flying, his body crashing through the brush, felling the trees in his way.
After landing one hundred feet away and angrily tossing the snake, he shot to his feet, charging back to her, eyes ice blue with fury. “Goddamn it, witch, no’ again!”
“It was an accident!” the witch cried, and she might have been truthful, but Bowe was beyond caring.
“All morning you’ve toyed with me, have you no’?” He stalked closer to her, letting her see a good glimpse of the beast within.
Yet after swallowing loudly and retreating several steps, she seemed to force herself to stand her ground.
He was dumbfounded that she wasn’t cowering. Battle hardened vampires recoiled in the face of a Lykae’s werewolf form, but she’d planted her boots, and she hadn’t budged.
She even raised her chin.
Cade had started hurrying down the embankment as if to protect her. The very idea made Bowe draw his lips back from his fangs. No doubt thinking his renewed fury was for her, she pulled magick into her hands.
”
”