Enchanter (Princesses of Myth #3)

“I’m her mate.” He moved in front of me, his back a solid wall.

“That would be released mate.” I gripped his arm and tried to move my territorial mate. Nope. He wouldn’t budge. “Belle, Guy’s one of the warriors from Hope’s outback station. Since my heat doesn’t affect him, he ’ported me home.”

A loud creak at my feet.

Belle stumbled back. “Okay, we’ve got to get you off the floor. Your heat is twisting the boards.”

“I’m on it.” Guy swung me into his arms.

“If I do more than warp the boards, get me out of here.” I clung to him.

Belle took a wide berth around us then motioned to Zayn. “Come help me. There’re a lot of books back there.”

The two hurried into the darkened recesses.

I stole another look at the floor. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“I can’t believe you ’pathed me.” He smiled and nuzzled my hair.

“What are you doing?” Butterflies abounded in my belly. “I mean, don’t do that.”

“Mmm, you smell like sunshine, and your hair, it’s a living flame with these strands of gold ablaze within the red.”

“It’s too curly.”

“I like curly.”

“We’re getting rather close.”

“Close is dangerous.” He pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Sorry, gotta kiss you. Now.”

“Wha—” His mouth stole over mine and whatever thoughts I had scattered, except for one. I wanted this kiss as much as he did. This moment couldn’t be denied, so I kissed him as deeply as he kissed me. Oh, so wicked. I stroked his silky black hair. “We should have done this sooner,” I mumbled against his lips. “So good.”

“Hell, yes.” He deepened our kiss.

I was lost in the sweet taste of him. My heart soared and my soul called to his. More. He was my mate, and it wasn’t a bond to be broken. Except, damn it, we had.

“We should stop,” he growled as he pulled away.

“Absolutely. What were you thinking?” Unable to help myself, I traced his full lips with a finger.

“I wasn’t.” He sucked my finger into his mouth, and I near exploded as heat raced through my veins.

“Silvie!” Belle screeched from the depths of the library. “Do you mind? Your emotions build on your skill, and you’re causing a heat wave. I’m about to drown in my own sweat over here.”

“Sorry, Belle.” I glared at Guy. “Sheesh, that was your fault.”

He grinned.

“He’s not feeling repentant!” Belle yelled. “Silvie, please think cold thoughts. Lots of them. Right now.”

“Do I have to?” A shiver chased down my spine. Yuck. Cold thoughts would suck.

“Yes.” Carrying a burgundy leather book, Belle scurried out of the row. Her long hair lay limp down her back and the front of her blue swing shirt was wet. She tapped the book. “It says here cold thoughts are your first tactical response to lowering your heat. Imagine a snowy day, or ice trickling down your back. Maybe even a whole tub of ice and soaking in it. Whatever it takes, think cold.”

“Just try it, Silvie.” Panting, Zayn trudged out, his cheeks blotchy and red. “You’re sucking all the moisture right out of the air.”

“Okay, a tub of ice.” Not wanting to, but not having any choice, I forced the image of a tub into my mind. Clumps of ice floated inside, and I shoved one foot in. Argh. I shuddered in revolt.

“That’s working.” Belle swept a hand through the air. “The room’s still hot, but there’s less heat coming off you. Whatever you’re thinking, go further with it.”

“Yeah, you would say that.” I poked my tongue at her, but kept going. In my mind, I lowered my other foot into the tub and stepped fully in. “Shivers, that’s cold.”

“Are you okay?” Guy tucked me closer against him. “You’ve got goose bumps all over your arms and legs.”

“Belle’s a cruel empath.”

“At least I’m a cooler one.” She thumped the book down on the large oak desk and trailed her finger along the thick parchment paper. “It says your mated one will be immune to your heat, but not if you heat something surrounding you. It also records your skill will be a little uncontrollable until your rising, although that’s no surprise. Our skills usually are.”

The library doors burst open. Silas stormed in, his chest heaving under his loose-sleeved white shirt. He pulled his sword from the scabbard at his side and planted his booted feet wide. “Zayn ’pathed me, sis. You’re mated to a warrior?”

“Hey.” I waved, albeit feebly. “As it happens, he’s right here.”

Davio, Peacio’s prince, prowled into the room in his battle leathers. He drew his sword and lifted it toward Guy. “Moyer. Once again we meet.”

Oh hell. This was all I needed.





3




“It’s not what you think.” Great. Now I had to face off against my brother and cousin.