13. Vix

Chapter 13

Vix

" Y ou're pretty small for a witch," the alpha muttered, his fingers combing the junk out of her hair.

"I'm not small," she snarled, ignoring the sudden ache in her claws that urged her to prove it.

"You're smaller than Morgan, and she's pretty upset about how short she is."

Her eyes flew open against her will and Vix glared up at him. "I'm not short either. I'm taller than almost all the female ravens in my eyrie, and most female humans and shifters."

"But witches are usually between 5'9" and 6'3"," the alpha reminded her, sounding so fucking amused about this. "I doubt you're much taller than 5'8"."

What an asshole.

"Not all of us are blessed with the height of apex predators."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she huffed when she almost saw him smile.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm shorter than Mylo and Rune." Samuel pulled her up so all the water ran down her body like a waterfall and then put something else in her hair. "I'm only 6'5" and Rune is 6'7," which he makes sure to rub in everyone's faces. Mylo has maybe half an inch on me…compared to us, you're tiny."

She was going to gut him if he didn't shut the fuck up about this already.

Was he telling her how tall they were just to rub it in her stupid face? Was he trying to see if she even knew what all those ridiculous numbers even meant?

Vix froze when another possibility occurred to her.

Was he trying to piss her off so she didn't want to get closer?

Hm, the alpha could be crafty too, it seemed.

Grinning at the glass, she decided it was okay if he wanted to play this ridiculous game, because he was going to lose. A tiger just couldn't play the way scavengers could.

He would have to be a lot more ruthless if he wanted to win, and she'd show him exactly how to do that.

"Height doesn't matter," she purred, not exactly leaning back into him, but she was close enough he could feel her skin if he took a deep breath. "Dick size is what really matters."

There was a split-second where she thought he might choke on his own air, but the alpha swallowed it down along with his shock.

The slight tang of jealousy seemed harder for him to shove down.

More pulling on her hair, but this time the comb slid through smoothly as she waited for him to respond to that swift change of subject.

There was a sudden flare of lust that made her wonder what he'd thought about – if he would tease her about the fact that it wasn't the size but the way he used it…

Samuel mercilessly smothered that lovely scent until it was completely gone, and only icy red ginger was left.

How infuriating.

Somehow, this one was even more difficult than Mylo.

"So, are you a raven then?" the alpha asked, changing the subject completely.

"Yes."

Vix bit back a sigh, disappointed he had no plans to take her bait.

"One more time," he murmured, easing her into the water.

Vix slid completely under and sat on the bottom of the giant bowl made of rock, letting him wash the junk out. Holding her breath wasn't hard, and sometimes she was convinced she didn't need to breathe.

Most likely.

Her chest didn't burn, and the soft silence of the water surrounding her reminded Vix of the gentle quiet right after a snowstorm. Insulated from the harsh world in snow or water, she felt some of the pain behind her eyes fade away.

The alpha was trying to figure out what she was – who she was. He had expectations of who and what she should be, but Vix couldn't bear that weight for him. His expectations might have some value to her if he was one of her mates, because she'd be able to use him to help her piece her picture together.

But he was an outsider.

Tigers didn't understand ravens, not really. They weren't scavengers or one of the smaller predators. They lived in a completely different world, as different as a high-society witch to one who possessed no coven or clan.

Samuel pulled her out of the water and turned her around to face him, both eyebrows raised as if he were surprised. "You can hold your breath for a long time."

"Forever if I need to." Vix kept her gaze on his chest, not letting her eyes wander or her hands explore.

"I had no plans on drowning you in the bath," the alpha muttered, combing her hair back as he put something else in it.

"A shame." She grinned when he growled at her. "It might have been fun to see you try. I'd be even more impressed if you could manage it."

"Mylo was right," he grumbled, eyes back on her hair.

She wished she knew what Mylo had said about her, but Vix felt her gaze creeping upward until it was on his throat, right where his neck met his shoulder.

The scent she needed would be there. How could she convince him to let her close enough to breathe it in?

Well, he'd asked if she was a raven. Was he hoping she couldn't scent the mate bond? That would be…annoying.

"You're good at this," she murmured, shifting her voice to make it sound sleepy. "Vanya did it for me last time, and she was a lot meaner about it."

"I'm used to it," he admitted as he wrapped a small towel made of microfiber around her head. "Rune's hair isn't as long as yours, but it's close."

Ah, the tiger who preferred to walk on four legs instead of two – his agony so intense it had taken her breath away. Rune , a name that meant secrets. Her autumn tiger. She wondered what he looked like in his human body with long hair.

Wait.

"You wash his hair?" Not unusual for packmates, but these three lived steeped in humanity, wrapping it around them like blankets until it suffocated the wildness of their tigers. "Why?"

They were also both male, but that didn't always mean anything, especially if they were also bond mates.

"Rune is my third," Samuel explained. "And he's mine ."

The possessive tone over something that was hers would normally enrage her, but Rune was her mate. She'd already scented the bond on him, and she could feel the thin thread of silver connecting them. It pulled on her chest whenever she thought about him, telling her exactly where he was.

If the alpha was so possessive over him?—

Samuel pulled her out of the water way too easily, and she realized he'd already climbed out himself. He wrapped a huge towel around her, ignoring his soaked pants and the way they dripped onto the floor.

"Stay here and dry off," he told her. "I'm going to change and then I'll be back to dry your hair."

Vix dropped down to a crouch, missing the water already. She watched as Samuel turned and headed toward the door – light from outside glimmering off the ink on his back.

Symbols in a language that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Fae used a very similar writing form as angels and despite the truths she'd told him, Vix had always been able to read, write, and speak the language of faerie. They were considered blasphemous, but Vix didn't know why when the two species were practically mirrors of each other.

She felt something dark settle into her skin as she read those symbols. Then her entire body went cold when she realized what exactly they said.

Names.

The god of war and winter had stitched fae names into his skin and it was brimming .

He owned more souls than she did.

Vix reached back and pressed her hand to the scar on her shoulder where she hid the names she'd stolen…carved into that ruined flesh with nothing but a silver feather and a mirror. Every name she took was written in her skin over a place that ached more than all the others.

Why she put them there, she didn't know. All she knew was they belonged there for the same reason that scar decorated her skin.

Carving them herself always felt like atonement, and one was missing.

Eliel – Tauriel's divine sacrifice.

She would have to wait. Making the phonetic symbols small enough to carve his glyph into her skin so no one else could see it…only her special magic could reveal them, that silver feather or angel blood.

Slowly, she stood and turned her back to the mirror hanging over the sink. Vix let the towel fall from her shoulder, exposing the scar that took up nearly the entire left side. It started just below her collarbone and went all the way down to her mid-back, thinning out at the bottom to something that looked like scratch marks.

It was difficult to ignore the harsh thumping—pumping of her heart as she reached back from the bottom, lining her claws up with those marks.

They fit perfectly.

Why had she done that? She'd told Mylo it was silver, but that didn't seem right. It also wasn't wrong. Had Gabriel buried silver in her body?

…maybe.

A tiny flick of magic had the glyphs on her shoulder lighting up, so tiny and flawless, written in perfect lines from top to bottom unlike Samuel's swirling patterns. Hers were as straight and impeccable as the books full of poetry in Japanese and Chinese kanji she liked to read sometimes.

The longest line of names went from the back of her neck, down the left side of her spine, all the way to her lower back. Each one was shorter the farther left they went, some of them uneven since it wasn't often she got names of higher value.

Vix didn't remember taking the names that went down her spine. It was the first one – the one that didn't touch her scar at all.

Each line after that first one was done by rank and regiment. It helped her keep track, but she was still at the bottom. No names on the farthest column from her spine. Nothing above the 13th regiment.

Her thoughts scattered like frightened birds when she suddenly felt the alpha's attention.

Vix found him staring at her in the mirror with an unreadable expression. It freaked her out how easily she lost herself around him. Her bones were convinced she was safe in his presence – protected.

That simply wasn't true even if they were mates.

His dominant tiger was born to protect and care for her, and his wildness was the deepest bass. It thrummed in her mind with darkness and despair, and he was drawn to her even if he didn't like it.

The tiger recognized her as a threat and didn't trust her yet, but that was because he worried about the others in the house he'd laid claim to.

It wasn't really a surprise since it had taken a while for Rain to accept her as well. She'd had Kimeya's motherly instincts to speed things along, but this shifter only really had ties to his second and third.

And the witchling.

Whatever this tiger sensed in Vix that made her other , that was why he was so wary of her.

The man?

Samuel didn't like her either even if she had no idea why. Part of it though? It was this .

He'd seen her interrogate and execute that angel. She knew he had because it was right there in his eyes and scent when he looked at the glyphs on her shoulder like he knew exactly what they were.

There was no other reason for him to be this conflicted.

Horror warred with admiration and respect. Disgust rose and fell, making way for the most interesting scent of all.

Chaotic desire.

Her purpose conflicted with whatever it was he wanted from her, and Vix needed to find out why. It wouldn't help fix the issue he clearly had with her hobbies, but it might help her explain why she was doing it in a way that would make sense to him.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, breaking their intense silence with a question that was so anticlimactic the towel fell from her lifeless fingers.

Vix stared at him as all those scents started to get tucked away until nothing but his essence was left.

Wow.

Whatever he wanted from her must be something he couldn't live without, because why else would he ignore such a visceral reaction to what she was capable of? His desperation was almost as interesting as the way he ignored her nakedness and set some clothes on the sink.

His new pants were dry – the exact same black tactical pants ravens and hunters preferred to wear. The alpha hadn't bothered with a shirt and his feet were still bare. It felt even more intimate somehow than if he'd been completely naked.

Vix flinched when his thumb brushed against the scar and the magic in the glyphs faded. "It doesn't hurt exactly."

Warm fluff settled on her shoulders and Samuel tied the robe around her with quick, efficient movements – so very careful not to touch her skin again.

"Normally, I can't even feel it." Vix rolled her shoulder back to ease some of the ache. "Mylo reminded me it was there."

In her mind, that scar didn't exist until it suddenly did. Then it became excruciating as she carved those names into her skin to atone…

Because he'd left her here in purgatory.

Hadn't she read over and over that she'd be allowed back into heaven if she atoned?

Vix considered the oldest column, knowing she'd collected those as Gabriel's warrior, not as Kenji's vixen. Why?

She had no idea what she'd done wrong, but the way to fix the problem had always been to hunt down the cockroaches destroying mortal lives. No matter how she tried to look at it, that was the answer.

Even Gabriel had made her collect names.

If she atoned, then all she had to do was find a way to die without killing herself, right?

Vix smirked when she imagined the look on Gabriel's face when she was the one he had to welcome into his heavenly realm.

Kenji had always told her there was more than one way to skin a cat, hadn't he? He'd be so proud of her when he saw she'd been listening and learning.

But…

Purgatory might not be so bad if she didn't have to suffer it alone.