Chapter 2

“Admiring, huh?” He chuckled.

“Please, have a seat.” She motioned to the chair next to her.

Willow kept her eyes on the powerful shifter. She didn’t know what type of shifter he was, but he was radiating some serious energy. She had never been near someone like him. She knew instantly that he wasn’t a wolf, bear, or tiger shifter, though. His power was something else.

She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him from the moment he’d arrived. She’d watched how everyone stepped out the way when he walked through the bar. She didn’t know if it was out of respect or fear, but the crowd had literally parted as he’d made his way inside.

Jealousy had filled her; she’d watched his interaction with the wolf shifter bartender. She was cute, but she needed to move away from him. Willow didn’t know why, but she instantly wanted to jump the bar and toss the woman into the mirrors behind it.

She had been told to find Feno Kelmyar, and she’d finally found him.

Whatever he was, he was screwing with her libido. The minute his eyes connected with hers, she had to clamp her legs together to try to ease the ache. His dark hair had her fingers aching to sift through it. His arms were solid muscle, leaving her wanting to run her tongue along his biceps, up to his well-defined pecs, down to the ridge of his abdomen and continue south.

She tore her gaze from him and looked out across the bar. A shifter bar was not where one wanted to be when turned on. All the shifters would be able to sense and smell it. As much as she wanted to take great pleasure in this sex god—that could be the only thing he could be—she needed his help.

She heard his quick intake of breath and knew it was too late. He knew how he affected her.

Dammit.

She turned back to him and found his hooded eyes locked on hers. Desire flared in his irises, and her stomach clenched.

“What is your name, little witch?” he murmured.

“Willow,” she whispered, captivated by him. She was tumbling down the slippery slope of desire for this shifter. She tried to glance away, but the draw to him was too strong.

“What are you doing in a bar such as this? This doesn’t seem like your normal crowd,” he asked, stretching out in the booth.

She blew out a shaky breath, his scent washing over her. It was like an aphrodisiac to her. She wanted to sidle closer to him so she could sniff him.

What the hell?

She wasn’t a shifter. She was a powerful witch on the search for her missing grandmother. She didn’t have time to seek out pleasure with this shifter who dripped sex appeal.

A shiver ran down her spine; his fingers slowly played with the strands of her thick locks.

“Umm…” Her brain had officially quit on her, and the only thing that was speaking to her were her damn ovaries. They quivered at his look and were close to exploding.

As if sensing what she was thinking, he inched closer to her, putting her in the crook of his arm.

She tilted her head back so that she could stare up at him. She breathed him in, and moisture collected at the apex of her thighs. He was one hundred percent hot male. The heat was literally radiating from him.

She was turned on.

Completely.

Two seconds from detonating.

He’d asked her a question.

Answer him.

“I was searching for someone,” she finally replied. His fingers twirling her hair encouraged a whimper to escape from her lips.

His nostrils flared. Gripping her hair in his hand, he tilted her head back and slammed his lips to hers. She gasped, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue inside her mouth. She fisted his shirt in her hands and melted into him. His kiss was open, hot, and dominating. It took her breath away. She lost herself in the kiss and knew that if she didn’t pull back soon, she’d lose all her home training and mount him right there in the bar.

A growl tore from his lips as she pulled back. His hands still entwined in her hair, he kept her face close to his. The sight of a couple making out in a dark corner wouldn’t draw too much attention. They were in a paranormal bar, and finding a little pleasure in a place like this wasn’t out of the ordinary. A few curious looks were cast their way, but Feno’s fierce expression had them turning away.

“What is it?” he growled, his lips brushing against hers.

She released his shirt from her grasp. Her fingers, having a mind of their own, trailed down his abdomen. She had to feel him. His hand gripped hers when she’d made it to the top of his jeans.

“Go any farther, and I’ll lay you out on this table and take you. I wouldn’t give a fuck who was watching.”

Her core clenched at his words.

Get it together, girl , she thought to herself.

“I need your help,” she whispered against his lips.

He drew back slightly and stared into her eyes.

“I was told to find you, that you would be the only person who would be able to help me.”

“You know who I am?” His voice was low, and he continued to stare into her eyes.

The bar could explode, and she wouldn’t be able to tear her attention away from his hazel eyes.

She nodded.

“Do you know what I am?”

She shook her head.

He relaxed a little and released her. “Why would a witch need my help?”

“My grandmother is Delia Moss.”

Recognition flared in his eyes at the mention of her grandmother.

“She’s missing. My coven is blaming me. I need your help in finding her.”

* * *

Feno had to pull back his desire. This was Delia’s fucking granddaughter. His dragon roared as he released her from his hold.

His dragon wanted her. This was a first. His dragon had never been this desperate to have a woman, which could only mean one thing.

Mate.

His eyes widened at the thought.

Could it be?

His cock was pushing painfully against his zipper. He’d meant every word to her about her hand going to his cock. He would have most certainly laid her out on the table and taken her. He ached to plunge his cock deep within her slick pussy. She may be a small witch, but she was powerful. He could tell she would be able to handle his cock with no problem.

If she were his mate, then she would have been made just for him.

Delia’s granddaughter.

Fuck.

Delia was one of the most powerful witches in the world. She was the high priestess of the Lunar Coven. He and Delia had been acquaintances for at least the past century, so Delia knew what he was.

“Who sent you to me?” he asked, trying to keep his mind off his cock plunging deep within his little witch.

His little witch.

His fingers couldn’t stay away from her dark, thick locks. The silkiness of her strands reminded him of the silk sheets that lay on his bed. Silk sheets that he wanted to feel wrapped around his and his little witch’s naked bodies.

A bed he would kill to be able to see her lying naked in and spread out on right now. His cock jumped.

Shit.

“They’re trying to banish me from the coven, and I refuse to go without a fight.” Her wide eyes were pleading with him.

He sensed that what she spoke was the truth. If Delia was in trouble, he knew that her younger brother would be the one to come to him for help.

“Delia told me that she was raising her granddaughter, who would be her heir. Why would they banish you for her disappearance?”

“Because they want the power of our coven, and without me there, the other elders could have it. It belongs to my family. My grandmother and her mother started that coven, and I’ll be damned if they take it away from us.” The fury that burned in her eyes depicted that this little witch was not to be taken lightly.

He knew he had demanded for his mate to show herself. If it had been that easy, he would have demanded it a long time ago. He tipped her chin to bring her eyes back to his.

“Don’t worry, little witch. We’ll get Delia back. This I promise you,” he murmured.

Relief flooded her features, and she smiled. His heart sped up at the sight.

His dragon was right.

She was his.

He’d be damned if anything happened to her grandmother. As her mate, he would protect her with his life. Everything he had would be hers. A dragon lived to please their mate, and he would start by finding Delia for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Unable to resist, he covered her mouth with his again. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of her. Her small tongue was bold in meeting his, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. The smell of her arousal assaulted his senses, and he knew his little witch was ready for him.

“That’s a hot little piece you got there,” a voice slurred in front of their table.

Feno growled, tore his mouth from Willow’s, and turned to the idiot. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he took in the drunkard, and by the smell of him, he was a wolf shifter. Tonight was his lucky night. It looked like he was going to get both of his wishes granted.

“It’s not worth it,” Willow pleaded. She pulled on his arm to no avail.

He stood from the table and towered over the shifter. The shifter apparently had one too many and didn’t even shrink back from Feno.

“She’s mine,” he growled low, his power rolling off him in waves.

Wide eyes around the room took in the confrontation. He stood in front of the wolf. The noise of the crowd instantly faded; they anticipated what would happen. Some of the wolf shifter’s buddies, who looked just as wasted as their friend, milled around the pair. Feno wasn’t worried at all. He could take all of them on without breaking a sweat.

“How do you get to come in here claiming women? Last month you came in here and left with two. Give some of us a chance with the fuckable whores,” the drunk hollered, motioning to Willow.

Willow gasped. That was not what his mate needed to hear, but he would explain that to her later.

He cocked back his fist and slammed it into the shifter’s jaw.