Page 66 of Resurrecting the Witch
Cuglas walked my mate toward where Orla stood near Lennox and Daniel.
Both my brothers had two innocent females in their grasp and Orla acted like she had already won. As if relishing her perceived victory, she took a deep breath, pressing her nose against Cliona’s soft cheek. “Delectable. I can see you still have a taste for only the finest females, Patrick.”
Orla winked at me.
I was going to kill her.
Chapter 21
“Smell me again and see what happens.” I was completely done with Orla. Her little charade wasn’t fooling me. She was still hungry after Patrick’s dick.
Aftermy mate’sdick.
And I wasn’t having it.
If Lennox hadn’t been caught grabbing the crystal, I knew we’d have had her head disconnected from the rest of her body by now. She was a goner; the bitch was going to be dust by the time I left this cave or else I wasn’t the true High Priestess of the Ó Cuinn coven.
“Is something wrong, dear?” Her nasally too high-pitched voice felt like nails on a chalkboard in my ears.
“If you don’t have your mutt release my twin-flame, we are going to have even bigger problems.” I was nearly feral as I said the words. Lennox was clutched in the arms of the guard, which was obviously one of Patrick’s brothers based on looks alone, like she would snap like a twig.
“I’m okay, babe. I think I might have unlocked a new kink.” Lennox winked at me. Letting me know she was okay, if only for the moment.
“I’m happy to kill this mouthy one, my lady.” The one holding her dug his knife deeper into her throat, and I saw Lennox’s blood well under the touch.
A feral sound erupted from the larger group, mostly my own forces at this point since the guards had been easily defeated. It looked as though most of them barely tried to save their own lives, which was depressing and showed how cruel Orla probably was.
Rory approached us, blood still dripping from his sword, eyes raging and locked on the knife at Lennox’s throat.
“Are ya just tryin’ to kill all the females better looking than ya, Orla?” Rory seethed, chest still heaving from the fighting.
“She’d have to kill every woman if that’s the case,” I said, still trying to play on the bitch persona, which wasn’t that much of a persona anymore. I needed her to come closer to me and pissing her off seemed to be the best way.
The slap of her bony old hand striking my cheek didn’t register until I was knocked into Patrick’s brother’s hard chest. I didn’t allow the pain to show, only straightened my spine in his grasp.
“You Gallagher brothers sure like to keep in shape, don’t you?” I spat blood onto the floor knowing it would unleash my mate.
I saw Patrick out of the corner of my eye before he was on Orla the next moment. She screamed, “Cuglas, kill him!”
Cuglas, the one holding me apparently, dropped me quickly and walked up to Patrick, pulling him off Orla with too much ease. His eyes were glazed over, almost as if he weren’t in control of his own body.
“Brother,” Patrick muttered, slapping at Cuglas’s arms, wrapping tighter and tighter around his throat. I looked to Lennox who had escaped the other’s hold, circling him with Rory. Both Lennox and Rory’s eyes homed in on Daniel, assessing the threat. Dominic and the Hemlocks approached the chaos slowly when they suddenly stopped, frozen mid-step.
I tried to turn my head back toward Patrick but couldn’t move either.
“ENOUGH!” Orla stood up and brushed her golden dress off. She was beautiful; I was full of shit earlier when I said no female would be uglier than her. Her blonde hair looked regal with half atop her head and she somehow managed to have no flyaways around her face from the skirmish with Patrick. Her makeup was clearly done but understated, giving her high cheekbones and blush lips, a simple but effective look.
Her heels clicked across the stone and dirt floor, and my eyes followed her as she walked toward me with a predator’s gaze. I whipped my eyes back and forth to my friends, but they weren’t moving either. Alarm shown in the whites of their eyes as they widened, apart from Patrick’s, whose blackness around the edges bled into his own, creating beautiful endless ebony pools like the night sky.
I looked into his eyes and tried to calm my nerves.
I took a deep breath, but my lungs were frozen from her magick too. I felt a tear slip out of the corner of my eye but couldn’t tear my gaze away from Patrick. Memories from the last few weeks flew across my mind. Sitting at Drew’s restaurant, nervous as hell to meet him. Introducing Patrick to Bert and later finding out he’d been visiting him regularly on days we didn’t see one another. Patrick’s rowdy cheering at open mic night when Lennox sang “Season of the Witch.” Him giving bro hugs to the Hemlocks and offering to kick their ass inCall of Duty, since he’d apparently become a fan since figuring out what video games were.
All those memories should have made me sad, like most things did. I tuned out every word Orla said as she approached me and only left room for thoughts of Patrick and my family that were all here with me in this defining moment, standing up against a threat to our home.
I felt a familiar warm feeling bloom in my chest. I thought of Lennox getting out of here and boning Rory. I thought of Drew finding someone outside of his family to help share his burdens. I thought of Dom continuing to protect and care for Gioia, whatever that looked like in the future. Which, if Gioia had any say, included many dragon-wolf babies and a happily ever after with them running the Haven Pass Movie Theatre. I thought of my dear friend Guille back in town holding Haven Pass together with what he could.
I was going to die here and leave no one with Ó Cuinn magick.
