Page 37 of Resurrecting the Witch
“You meanmyunderwear now,mo peata.” I winked at her and led us to our friends. I could only hope she would still let me do this to her when she found out everything about my past.
* * *
Cliona and I managed to see each other a few more times over the weekend after the council meeting, where she announced her High Priestess title to the residents. Or as I liked to remember the night, when I finally got my tongue on Cliona’s cunt, and it felt like coming home.
We had to attend some meetings about the Samhain Festival that was happening in only a few days. It had been two weeks since my first date with her, but it felt like an entire lifetime had passed.
Unfortunately, due mostly to Samhain prep and not having enough time to ourselves, my poor cock had been rubbed raw from the amount of time I had to take myself in hand to avoid thinking with only it when I saw her.
“How’s it going with Cliona, Patrick?” Guillermo asked in our one-on-one session that I only had to attend once a week now.
“I’m going to tell her about my past tonight,” I answered, stretching my fingers out in an attempt to release some of the tension at the thought.
“That’s a big step.”
“A necessary one if I want her to accept me as her mate,” I replied. “I have a plan.”
“Of course you do.” He shook his head. “And what exactly is your plan?” he asked. The smirk he gave me was meant to play on my nerves and get a reaction. He had tested me considerably when I first arrived with random displays of aggression or rudeness to try and provoke me. We would then have to talk about how to keep myself calm and level-headed when around residents who might not know better.
“I’m going to cook dinner at her house and tell her in a place she is comfortable.”
“Ah, you’re going to use the Schmidt tactic.”
I couldn’t help the half grin pull at my lips. “Can you blame me?”
“Of course not, I have used the Schmidt tactic on many an occasion.” He chuckled and pushed his purple glasses up his nose while shaking his head. “She’ll see it coming from a mile away.”
“I know.”
“And, while her cottage is her happy place, the Schmidt tactic doesn’t work as well as we think it does.”
“I know.”
“And she isn’t going to—”
“I know, Guillermo!” I was so primed with energy I hadn’t used his title. “I feckin’ know it all. I know it doesn’t matter if Schmidt is there. I know it’s a risk to tell her at all, even if she has access to my file, I know she hasn’t read it because she would have asked questions by now. And I know that no matter how I tell her, she might not want me near her anymore after what I did.” I pause to catch my breath and tap my fingers against the armrest of the chair.
I hadn’t felt this out of control of my emotions since I first woke up at and stayed with the coven in Ireland while I regained full consciousness. My undead nature had me act like a rightgobshitewhen I couldn’t keep it in check. And of course, finding my mate and having to tell her about all the horrible things I’d done in my first life would have me teetering on the edge.
“I’m just hoping you set proper expectations with yourself,” he continued. “I know Cliona better than most and I know you have nothing to worry about. She’s not the type to let someone’s past define them.”
“Even though I used to slaughter witches?”
I don’t miss the flare in Guillermo’s eyes at the mention of my horrid past.
Witch hunter.
Witchkiller.
Lady Orla’s assassin.
“I didn’t say she wouldn’t struggle with the idea, but I also know she trusts my judgment and that you wouldn’t be here if you were a threat to anyone on this island.”
I had been avoiding this conversation, even with myself, for so long it felt like second nature.
I didn’t want my mate, a goddess-blessed High Priestess of a prestigious coven, to know about my past. It was hundreds of years ago and something I didn’t consider a part of me anymore, but I knew it would matter to Cliona.
Especially after what happened to her family.
