13. Kirsten

The cabin seemed smaller every day. Being stuck in its four walls was cozy for a while, but not being able to go into town was driving me mad. After the intense moments with Jace the night before, I'd tried to get my mind off of him and my cabin fever by delving into the books again. I'd spent most of the night trying to find some way to end a century-long curse, but had no luck with anything I'd read.

As I brewed my morning coffee, I had a thought. A way to kill two birds with one stone. If I couldn't go into Crestwood, and I didn't feel safe going to Scottsdale, then perhaps another day trip to St. Louis was in order. I could get out of the house, maybe have lunch, and take care of another task: talk to Tinsley again. The kitchen witch had given me a lot of information to start off with, but now I needed her insight into fixing Jace's curse.

Not wanting to be too rash, I waited until I'd finished my coffee and toast, thinking it over a few times. When I was done, I grabbed my keys and headed for the door. I couldn't think of anything better to do, and no one better to answer my questions.

Tinsley's store was busier than the first time I'd visited. At the counter, two women were discussing something with Tinsley. The overhead bell jingled as I stepped in. When she noticed me, her eyes lit up, and she waved at me.

"Hey there. I'll be with you in a little bit," she said.

"Take your time," I said.

While she dealt with her customers, I browsed through the store. The weird sense of being home was even stronger on this visit. Racks of crystals and tarot cards, ancient leatherbound tomes, jeweled daggers, pewter cups, and a huge number of dried herbs and plants all reached out to me, tugging as if an invisible string was attached to my mind. It was strange yet comforting.

The women at the counter each took an armful of tightly wrapped square packages from Tinsley and departed, whispering to each other excitedly. Tinsley joined me in the center of the shop, that same knowing smile on her lips.

"I thought I might be seeing you again soon. How can I help you, Kirsten?"

I chuckled. "Good memory."

"It's not every day one meets an eclectic witch."

"Were those women witches?"

Tinsley bobbed her head. "Kind of. They aren't true witches like you and me, just students of the craft. Humans can, with varying degrees of success, practice some very basic forms of magic. Barely more than party tricks, honestly. Wicca has become a bit of a religion in these newer days. A bygone remembrance of the old days when our kind lived in the open. To answer your question, though, all witches are Wiccans, but not all Wiccans are witches. If I had to only do business with true witches, I would have gone belly-up a long time ago."

"Interesting," I muttered.

"Magic can be a little confusing. Especially if you weren't raised with the lore."

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," I admitted. "What do you know about curses?"

Tinsley laughed, a musical sound that put me at ease rather than on edge. "I know as much about curses as a doctor does about medicine, my dear. Every witch does. Each of us has our own way of dealing with enemies, dangers, and problems. Are you looking to curse someone or something in particular?"

I chewed on my lower lip, trying to think of how to explain, and before I could stop myself, I told her everything. About my great-grandmother Dorothy, Jace and his mistake, the way the curse had affected him.

Tinsley stared at me contemplatively for several moments after I'd finished my story, then shook her head in wonder. "Your great-grandmother cursed someone, and the spell has lasted over a hundred years?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Basically."

"She must have been a very determined witch. It's not easy to create a curse like that. Real life isn't like a fairy tale. Curses are a bit like houseplants. To keep them strong and healthy, they usually need some attention here and there, rebuilding the power, reenergizing the magic from time to time."

"Does that mean someone else is carrying on the curse?" I asked, a little worried about another, more powerful witch going up against me.

"Not necessarily," Tinsley said, then pointed at the door. "Go ahead and lock up, and turn the ‘open' sign around. We'll do some research."

"Oh, I don't want you to lose money helping me."

Tinsley rolled her eyes. "Those two who just left purchased the collected works of Aleister Crowley. First editions—one of them signed. I could close for a week after that sale and still be fine."

I did as she said, and as I turned the deadbolt switch, I gazed through the glass at the street outside. The juxtaposition was odd. I was in a modern, bustling city, moving along like nothing strange was happening, then in here among the old books and clouds of incense. I was like a traveler outside time, looking through a portal to a reality centuries removed from the one I stood in. Shaking off the thought, I joined Tinsley at the counter as she pulled book after book off the shelves.

"So, what did you mean when you said not necessarily? Didn't Dorothy need help to complete the curse?"

"Usually, but not always," Tinsley said. "If a spell is imbued with enough power, it could, in theory, maintain its strength for a century or even more. The issue is power consumption."

"Power consumption?"

"When a witch casts a spell, builds a ward, brews potions, or whatever, we access the spiritual realm. Sort of a shadow world that exists right beside our own. It's where our power comes from. The difference between a witch and a regular person is that we are born with the ability to tap into that realm and draw power from it. Imagine a beautiful and ornate antique lamp. Gorgeous to look at, fantastic quality, and craftsmanship? That's a regular human. Now imagine that someone picks up the plug and inserts it into an outlet, allowing the lamp to access the huge amount of power—invisible power—running through the walls? A bright glow that can dispel the night, push back the shadows, and cast gorgeous colors on the walls and ceiling? That's a witch."

"Oh," I said dumbly, a bit awestruck by the description.

"The more powerful the witch, the more power she can access. Depending on what type of witch, they can also access different types of power. A green witch can't really pull in precognition magic. Being a witch, she might have some faint skill at everything, but she won't be able to master the other without obtaining the power required. Does that make sense?"

"Sort of," I said. "How does all this pertain to my great-grandmother?"

"For her curse to last that long, she must have put a lot of energy behind it—more than a mortal should have been able to draw from the spiritual realm alone. How long did she live after the curse?" Tinsley asked, glancing up at me.

"I have no idea. I never met her. Why?"

"One way a witch can strengthen a spell or curse is through life force. Either their own or, in extreme circumstances, a prisoner or slave. That kind of magic is time-consuming and difficult. Honestly, I don't know how she could have done it even then."

I sank down on a stool beside her. "Why not?"

"If what you're saying is true, and Jace can't find a mate, it would be incredible. The shifter mating connections are a magic of their own. These things aren't just biological or physical; shifters find their mates based on a connection to another person that has its roots in the magic that created them in the first place. To prevent a shifter from mating with someone else is… well, hell, it's really hard to do. For want of a better word, your great-grandmother was a badass."

Despite not having ever met the woman, I smiled with unconcealed pride. A badass? It was nice to hear that one of my ancestors was really good at something.

"The problem is that even a basic curse is not something that is easily lifted," Tinsley continued. "It's not a few spoken words and boom, you're cured. A curse like this is very powerful, and it will take an equally or more powerful witch to disassemble it."

Disappointment rankled me, and my shoulders slumped. "I'm not sure that I'll be able to do that," I admitted. "I'm barely understanding this as it is. It may be years before I could be at a level anywhere near that, if I'm lucky."

"Don't lose hope," Tinsley said. "Is there anything else? Any other things you've maybe found at your cabin? Magical items? Anything that"—she sighed—"I don't know, gave you a surge of power? She could have created a totem that could keep the magic in place a bit longer, though that still shouldn't have been enough power. A curse is much different from a ward."

I thought hard, picturing everything in the cabin. Nothing stuck out in my mind. Nothing like that vial of hair. I couldn't remember my crystal reacting to anything except…

Oh.

"Um, I did manage to break and reform the ward around my house," I admitted slowly.

Tinsley's eyes widened in surprise. "Already? That's amazing. I can sense your magic is stronger than the last time you were here, but how did you do it? What item did you use? Did you think of something?"

"I used one of the books you gave me and made the potion to create the ward. Nothing was really happening until…" I hesitated, unsure what the next words would mean. "Well, Jace touched me while I was trying to make it work, and this huge power surge went through me. And almost immediately, the ward went up. Sort of like I was able to use more power when he touched me. Does that make any sense at all?"

Tinsley gaped at me, then sprinted to another bookshelf to snatch a book. "This is weird," she said as she flipped through the pages. "I don't think I've ever heard of it."

"Heard of what?" I asked, leaning forward to try and see what was on the pages.

Tinsley stopped on a chapter titled "Tethers."

"What is that?" I asked.

She put a hand on the page and looked at me again. "Witches aren't like wolves. We don't have mates, not like they do. What we have is something that's more rare. A tether is a person who helps a witch access more of her magic, stronger magic than she normally could on her own. These people almost always end up romantically linked in some way. If Jace says you're his fated mate, then this would be more probable. One emotional connection could give rise to another."

"You think Jace is my tether?" I asked, frowning. For some reason, my blood seemed to rush faster through my veins.

"If what you said about him touching you causing a power surge is true, then that's kinda what it looks like. I've never heard of a shifter being a witch's tether, though. Before things between our races went bad, an alpha might have a normal romantic relationship with a witch, but never in a tether or fated-mate way. This is unique."

My mind spun with possibilities, anxiety and fear racing through the halls of my subconscious, desperately trying to find a way out. Then, an epiphany struck me, and my eyes opened even wider as a fresh wave of shock coursed through me.

"What if it's not a curse at all?"

"What?" Tinsley frowned at me.

"I'm thinking my great-grandmother might have foreseen all this. My grandmother mentioned in her letter that both she and her mother had had visions about me. What if she knew that Jace would be my tether, and that's why she made this spell preventing him from finding a mate until I came along?"

"That's pretty cruel. At least in the short term. But if you and he are meant for each other, then… huh." Tinsley looked contemplative for a moment before continuing. "A curse done for negative reasons requires more energy. Just like it takes more energy to punch someone than to hug them. If the end goal was something positive, then that could explain how it's lasted so long."

"I need to talk to Jace," I said. "Maybe he knows something."

"Hang on. Before you go, take these." Tinsley grabbed a couple of more books and tucked them into a paper bag.

"Thanks," I said.

"I'm here if you need anything or have questions," Tinsley said. "I really want to know how this all turns out."

The drive back to Crestwood flashed by, almost as though I was asleep. I was becoming more and more certain that Jace really might be my tether. I hadn't experienced any magic until I'd met him. That was when all this started.

The gate guards at Jace's house recognized me by now and waved me through without any hassle. When I pulled up to the front door, I saw Jace and his sister. Shayna looked positively radiant and was grinning, but Jace was pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was fighting off a headache.

Shayna approached as soon as I got out of my car. "Good to see you again. Hopefully my brother is being less of a jerk?"

"He's getting there," I said with a grin.

"Ugh, he can be such an ass. Imagine growing up with him."

The woman was pleasant and sweet. Funny, but not in a mean way. I could see myself striking up a friendship with her. Would that be the best idea, though? I had no idea how things would play out between Jace and me. Befriending his sister might be a bad idea.

I winked. "I pity you."

That got a laugh out of her. "If you ever get tired of his shit, my mate and I run the Copper Valley Pack," she said. "He's the alpha. It's only thirty minutes from here, going the opposite way of Scottsdale. Come by any time, and we can talk about Grumpy there." She nodded toward Jace, who was looking more and more uncomfortable.

"I might do that," I said.

"I'll leave you guys to it," Shayna said, then she jogged down the driveway.

As I watched, she leaped into the air, morphed into her wolf, and loped off into the forest. Seeing it was always surreal. Even though everyone knew shifters were real, watching them shift was a wonder.

"Hey there," Jace said. "Come on in."

As soon as he spoke, my nerves returned, though I followed him inside. My hands shook, and I clutched at my purse to hide it. I'd never been the type to let a man get to me like this, but there was something about Jace that made it hard to maintain my composure. When he looked at me with those eyes, it was even worse. The way they seemed to bore into my soul, peeling back the layers of me until all that was left was naked and unguarded, unnerved the hell out of me.

"What's up?" he asked.

What's up? My brain had gone blank. It took a moment, but I finally found my words.

"Uh, I need to talk to you. About the curse," I said.

Jace's face softened as a look of mild surprise took over his features. "Did you find out how to break it?"

"No," I said. "Sorry. I went to see the witch in St. Louis, the one who gave me those books? I wanted to get her input and see if she had any ideas."

Jace did a good job hiding the look of disappointment on his face, but I still caught it. To his credit, he didn't allow any bitterness to creep into his voice. "What did she say?"

"She said that the curse is very strong, and it's usually difficult to keep it up for long. I told her about how I broke the old ward and rebuilt the new one. How when you touched me, it became easier. She thinks, uh, well, that you might be something called a tether. For me. My tether. It's a person who—"

"Allows for more powerful magic in witches," Jace said, finishing my sentence for me.

I gaped at him, and he laughed. "You think after being cursed for a century, I wouldn't have done as much research on witches as possible? I know what a tether is. Honestly, it kinda makes sense. I had an inkling, but I dismissed it. Now that you've laid it out like that, I think you may be right."

"You do?"

I was worried I'd sound like some stalker… begging the sexy, macho neighbor to bend me over and make me his because we were meant for each other.

I blinked in surprise at that mental image. Where the hell had that come from? I didn't want Jace to do that. Never. Though, I was having a very hard time shoving the mental movie to the back of my mind.

Jace stepped forward, closing the distance between us. Something in his eyes changed, almost like he'd seen the weird little fantasy that had just flitted through my mind. I had the distinct feeling that I was standing naked before him. Smoldering eyes met mine. A knot formed in my stomach, not unpleasant. More like the sensation you got right before the rollercoaster dropped.

"I do," he said quietly. "I think your magic reacts to me the way my wolf reacts to you."

"How, uh…" I cleared my throat. "Um, how does your wolf react to me?"

He stared at me for several seconds before taking one more step closer, now less than an arm's reach away. I swallowed hard, and that movie in my head began to play again. Me bent over, Jace yanking my pants and panties down. His fingers digging into my hips as he plunged himself into me.

I was wet just thinking about it. Fuck, what was wrong with me? Jesus, stop it. Stop it, I thought to myself.

"I don't think you're ready to hear about that," Jace said.

Fight-or-flight kicked in, and I suddenly felt like a young deer staring down the muzzle of a hungry wolf. That might have been exactly what I was.

Without a word, I rushed for the door, desperate for some fresh air. Jace was too fast. My God, shifters were fast. He was there before I could reach it, arm pressed into the frame, blocking my way. My chest pressed against his, our faces so close, our breaths intermingled. I clenched my thighs together as more images of what we would do to each other flitted through my mind. I didn't want to think about these things, but I couldn't stop. A weird buzzing sizzled across my skin, and my crystal throbbed in time to the pulse between my legs.

"Soon," Jace whispered, "the two of us will have to face the truth about what's going on between us. We won't be able to run from it forever."

Wanna bet? I thought and opened the door, ducking under his arm.

"I'll be going now," I choked out, barely able to speak. I was so aroused that even walking caused a pleasant friction between my thighs. It was all I could do not to moan as I hurried to my car.

"I'll see you later, Kirsten," Jace called. "Call if you need anything."

"Will do. Thanks," I blurted as I climbed into my car.

Backing out, I glanced through the window and saw Jace standing on the porch, arms crossed, watching me go. Was I imagining it, or was the bulge in his pants much bigger than it had been when I'd arrived? No, that was my brain making up more dirty thoughts. I accidentally slammed the gas in my rush, sending gravel flying as I sped down the driveway.

Beads of sweat dotted my face as thought after thought, scene after scene, played through my head on the way home. My clit throbbed like mad, and it was all I could do not to reach between my legs and relieve the need there. The last thing I wanted was to wreck my car while masturbating. How ignoble a sight that would be. Poor EMTs dragging my lifeless body out with my hand still jammed down my pants. Ugh.

As I screeched to a stop in front of my cabin, I nearly forgot to turn the car off in my haste to get inside. Fed by the magic within me—or at least that's what I hoped—a hundred fantasies played out in my mind. Panting with need and desire, I closed and locked the cabin door with shaking fingers and hurried to my bedroom to drag out my small overnight bag.

Thank God I'd had the forethought to pack my vibrator, even though I had been a tad embarrassed about that.

Dragging my pants and panties off, I lay back on the bed, spread my legs, and clicked on the vibrator. Finally, blessedly, I allowed the visions to play out unencumbered.

Jace grabbed me and gazed into my eyes.

"How do you want it?" he murmured. "Soft and sweet? Or hard and fast?"

"You know what I want," I breathed, my body aching hot, ready for him.

Jace grinned slyly, groaning as he spun me around. A moment later, his strong, powerful fingers slid under the waistband of my jeans and yanked them down to my ankles. I sucked in a gasp as those same fingers grabbed my ass and spread my cheeks, cool air touching my soaking wet cleft.

"Bend over," Jace commanded.

I did as he asked, resting my hands on the wall, presenting my pussy to him. It took every ounce of willpower not to beg him to fuck me. I trembled in anticipation, and when his hot, wet tongue slithered into me, my knees nearly gave out.

"Holy fuck," I groaned.

I slid the vibrator lower, letting the head nudge at my opening as the shaft vibrated on my clit. My eyes rolled back, and I bit my lip.

The feeling of his Jace's tongue within me, his bottom lip brushing my clit, had me quivering. With my free hand, I dragged my top up, exposing my breasts. He reached around, taking one nipple between his fingers, tugging and twisting gently at the small nub of flesh while exploring my pussy with his mouth.

Wrapping his lips around my clit, he sucked gently and my knees gave out. I slid to the ground, groaning in pleasure. Jace followed me, never releasing his mouth. Grabbing my hips with his hands, he sucked harder, flicking his tongue back and forth across it as he did.

I pressed back into him, wanting—needing—more. He slid two fingers deep into my pussy, thrusting in and out of me, pressing against my G-spot.

"Yes," I hissed, thrusting my hips in time with his fingers.

I arched my back as the dildo filled me. My free hand rubbed at my clit as I fucked myself with the dildo, the vibrations seeming to echo through my entire body. Still, I wanted more, and I indulged in my deepest fantasies.

While he fucked me with his fingers, he slid his tongue along my clit. My first orgasm built like I was slowly being lifted into the sky, rising high on an escalator of pleasure. I wanted to crest the wave and topple over, but not yet.

With trembling lips, I looked down at his face between my legs. "Fuck me, Jace. I want you inside me. I want your cock. Please. Fuck me hard."

He chuckled but obeyed. I rubbed my clit as I listened to the rustle of his pants being pulled off. A moment later, he gripped my hips and pulled me backward. The moment the warm head of his cock parted the folds between my legs, I let out an inarticulate moan. He was so fucking big. Inch after inch of him slid in, parting my body like the Red Sea. Then the soft, velvety caress of his balls pressed into my clit, and I felt so gloriously full.

"You said you wanted it hard?"

"Uh-huh," I grunted, pressing my hips back against him.

Jace reached forward, threading his fingers in my hair as he tugged my head back. He pulled a bit harder, eliciting a gasp from me, and slammed into me.

"Oh my god!" I screamed. "More. Harder," I hissed through gritted teeth.

Doing as I asked, Jace pulled out and slammed back in, over and over again. Skin slapped against skin, and I moaned long and low. I lost all coherent thought as his beautiful, thick cock drove me toward the edge. Letting go of all inhibition, I let him take me. Let him fuck me as I'd never let any man before, and it was magnificent.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I thrust the dildo in and out of my pussy. My arms burned with the effort, but I couldn't stop. I needed this in a way I never had before. An animalistic desire overcame me. If Jace had walked in the door at that moment, I would have let him take me just like he was doing in my mind.

Tugging at my hair, Jace moved ever faster, his thick, muscular cock filling me, stretching me. I let out a scream of ecstasy.

"Please, Jace, fuck me!" I begged, gasping as he gave me exactly what I wanted.

The final thrust sent me over the edge, and I exploded. Jace grunted as he came inside me. My own orgasm shook the very earth, rattling me to my core. Pleasure cascaded through my body. My hips bucked against him as I came.

"Fuck!" I cried out.

I rolled to my side, the sex toy still inside me. I rode out the orgasm, pressing my face into my pillow to muffle the scream that tore from me. "Jace!" Exhausted and out of breath, I slipped the toy from between my legs and lay back, catching my breath.

Satiated at last, my analytical mind shoved the animalistic desire aside and brought me back to reality. The fantasy had been like no sexual experience I'd ever had. It had been far more intense and aggressive than anything I'd ever fantasized about in my life. Could my magic have done that? Made me imagine things like that? Hair pulling? Rough sex? I'd been reduced to nothing but a horny teenager.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I asked the silent room.