“Steve put the recycling system for the gray-water in all backwards because Mike kept badgering him about the process, and fuck me running... you mated a human? Are you out of your mind? The pride—”
“Isn't gonna do shit!” the bear was so close to the surface, Ivy could see Uriah struggling to hold him back from the other side of the house. “She's not human.”
“But she smells like—”
“I know exactly what she goddamn smells like, Warren. She's a witch, so back the fuck off right now, or so help me, I will rip your butt-sniffing snout right off your face and shove it up your ass.”
Ivy scowled as she chewed, wishing she had enough magic to make the long vines of the berry bushes right there by the front door snap out toward Warren like barbed whips, proving she wasn't the average human.
“Ow! Shit, what the hell?” For a wolf, Warren sure squealed like a pig. “Okay! I'm sorry, ow! Not the face! Not the face!” Even from her seat in the kitchen, she could hear the pounding retreat of Warren's hurried footsteps, and the slam of a car door, followed by his loud shout, “I'M SORRY I SAID YOU SMELLED LIKE A HUMAN!”
Uriah stood in the doorway mutely for a moment, then glanced back at her like she'd just done something concerning, and then yelled back out the door at Warren. “Deal with it until I get there, you ass-troll!”
The roar of an engine and the bite of tires grabbing at the gravel drive was Warren's answer. Then he was gone.
Uriah lifted his hand to crook a finger at her. Ivy got up and crossed the distance, offering him her last bite of bacon—which he leaned down to nip from her fingers.
He pointed out the door, so Ivy leaned forward to peek around the frame, still butt naked herself and not wanting to take chances of being seen, then stumbled forward in shock.
The berry vines growing out of cauldron-shaped terracotta pots she distinctly remembered selling Uriah, were waving around like an octopus's tentacles, several of the abnormally large thorns dripping with crimson liquid.
“Did you do that, honey?” Uriah asked, completely unperturbed, sounding more curious than anything else.
Her mouth worked soundlessly for a bit before she sputtered actual words. “I... I don't know. I was imagining how nice it would be if I had enough juice to make the vines into whips...”
Propping himself up against the doorframe, Uriah gave a thoughtful ‘huh’, and rubbed at the scruff on his jaw. “Well, imagine them going back to normal. See what happens.”
“That's... that's not how magic works,” Ivy said dumbly, watching the vines writhe and shudder in absolute fascination.
Uriah ran his hand up and down her back, steadying her when she hadn't realized she needed steadying. “It's not?”
Well, there was certainly an element of imagination and intent when building a spell, but not one time in the years she'd spent at Haggara, had something like this happened because she’d imagined it. Or wished for it. Or put every ounce of thought or feeling into doing something.
Ivy didn't feel as though she'd done anything magical, but then, she'd never done anything remotely magical in her life, so would she know what it felt like if she had?
“Hey.” Uriah pulled her against him, tipping her chin up to tug her bottom lip out from between her teeth with his thumb. “Don't think about it so hard.”
Ivy tried not to dissect the how and whys of the sudden aggression of the berry bushes. It couldn't be a coincidence, not unless there was another witch outside somewhere who could read minds.
Or unless one of her coven sisters was spying from the woods. Which was possible, but any of them would have waltzed over by now and given Ivy shit for walking around in the buff, or to compliment Uriah on the breadth of his muscles and the heft of his cock.
So focused on trying to work out the answer, the lance of pain when Uriah gave her nipple a tweak was such a shock she gave a short squeal.
“Ow!”
Her mate gave her a stern look even as he leaned down to kiss her, his hand cupping her breast to soothe her sore nipple with gentle sweeps of his thumb. “Breathe, honey. Just relax and imagine the vines coiling back up, like you're putting the hose away at work after watering the veggies. Picture them going to sleep, curling up the trellis where they're supposed to go.”
Uriah set the scene for her, and after a few minutes of wallowing in the warmth of his gaze, he touched another sweet kiss to her lips and tilted his head at the bushes.
Ivy was astounded to see the vines had gone back to creeping up the trellis, and the only movement in the leaves came from the whistle of the wind across the porch.
Dumbfounded, Ivy pointed as though Uriah couldn't see the plants. “I... did that just... did I... did I do that?”
“Seems so,” Uriah answered proudly. “Wanna try something else?”
“Don’t… don’t you have to go to work? Your guys need you.”
Uriah snorted derisively. “Fuck’em. They can wait a little longer.”
Shell shocked, Ivy nodded like a bobble head, excited and terrified at the same time. “Okay. Let me just get some clothes...”
“Why?”
Fair question. It wouldn't be her first time attempting to work some magic in the nude. Some of the rituals the coven performed on their land worked best when there were no physical barriers between them and the elements, so yeah. Why not?
“Come on.” Uriah held her hand and led her out over the grassy landscape to the nearest garden bed, pointing at a tiny little sprig of clover. “Try making that clump of weeds bigger so I can get rid of it.”
Ivy reached out her hand toward the plant, willing the little shoots to grow. She scrunched up her nose, held her breath, closed her eyes, and after a handful of minutes went by, nothing happened. Frustrated and somewhat mortified, her shoulders slumped, and she dropped her hand with a defeated sigh.
“Maybe it was a fluke.”
Uriah frowned intently, his scruffy beard rasping against his palm as he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “At the risk of sounding like that guy, maybe you're doing it wrong.”
“Doing it wrong?” Ivy echoed, her embarrassment and frustration turning to outrage in an instant. “Since I was seven years old, I’ve been hunched over spell books, taking every class there was to get my potions right, to create and say incantations correctly, following solar and lunar charts almost every minute of every day to perform rituals at just the right time—”
Uriah winced and made a placating gesture, interrupting her before she could really get on a roll. “I know how that sounded, but I'm not trying to put you down. When you made the berry bushes lash out at Warren, you weren't using spells or incantations to make it happen. And you made the vines go back to normal without trying to force it, so... let’s repeat our experiment.”
Ivy crossed her arms over her chest, her hips canting to the side. “I'm listening.”
With a sexy grin, Uriah grabbed her waist and turned her around to face the garden bed. He touched a kiss to her shoulder, making goosebumps race across her skin with a pleasurable shiver.
“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “Close your eyes and breathe. Feel the sun on your skin, and the way the wind lifts the fine hairs on your arms. Breathe and feel the expansion of your lungs. Feel the grass between your toes.”