Impassioned (Mate Marks Cursed Book 1)

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Kitts where she can stake her claim as an up-and-coming socialite. Should she let him live, or let him go?

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And I still keep silent haha The are so many fake sites which said they have the book that I want like latest Harry Potter. This is the first that worked! Recent Activity Loading activity But she could no more curse him than forsake the air in her lungs. Instead, she whispered a protection spell into the wind.

Too many miles separated her from the hollow for the incantation to have any affect, but it brought her comfort. The soft chatter of neighboring families and clack of plates reached her ears as patio tables were set and smoky, fishy smells rose from grills. Her father had gone to check on her friend Sharon, who was about five weeks away from giving birth to her first child.

Sharon had been bedridden for the past month and would remain so until the birth. His voice sailed across the lawn. Perhaps sleeping with him when they were sixteen had been a mistake, but by now she would have thought that he had accepted her fate and moved on. She breathed her sigh in through her nostrils and wafted toward the stairs, her shoulders slumped.

Before she reached the landing, her legs stopped moving, anchoring her to the second floor. It would be awkward if she answered now—after waiting for so long while William went from room to room calling her name. There was nothing William could do to help her. He could only make things worse.

William mounted the stairs. When he reached the top, he stopped. Elsie waited for him to call her name. His silence unnerved her more than the sound of his voice.

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The hairs on the back of her neck rose and her jaw ached as her wolf fought to take possession of her body so she could attack the unwanted intruder. A silent growl reverberated up her throat. The soft rustle of pant legs moved past her toward the balcony. William would likely check outside first—see if she stood at the railing staring out wistfully as she so often did. After he passed the den, she slipped into the wide hall and down the stairs, drifting one step at a time to the first floor.

She strode forward, not bothering to duck into the shadows of neighboring villas. When she reached the cobblestones connecting all the homes, a wind gusted up as though to prevent her from reaching the gates and road leading off the mountain. She kept walking, her hair rippling at her back. A light mist gusted over her bare arms and face from a large three-tiered fountain splashing water from the center of the wide road.

Elsie had never given such extravagances a second thought until spending time in Wolf Hollow. The stone pillars flanking the entrance of Balmar Heights loomed toward her as her gown billowed in the rushing wind. A wizard named Everett stood with his back resting against the wall, smoking from a pipe, watching her approach.

Everett was a tall, fit wizard nearly twice her age.

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Puffs of white smoke wafted in the air around him. He straightened as Elsie neared. He pulled the pipe from his mouth to smile. He lifted his pipe to his lips and sucked in languidly, expelling smoke through his nostrils while holding Elsie in his brown-eyed gaze. He pulled the pipe out of his mouth and pointed it at her.

I know better than to try and use flattery to get past you. With her words, Everett froze in place, pipe pinched between his fingers at his side. She hurried past him and out the gates, pulling her dress over her head and tossing it onto the ground. Crouching naked over the rocky terrain, Elsie shifted as swiftly as an owl swooshing down from a tree branch before snatching a mouse in its sharp talons.

Wind flowed through her fur as she ran along the mountain, breezing over her nose and down the ridge of her back to her tail. The wizards of Balmar Heights could transform liquid and objects into almost anything they wished, create electricity or fire with a touch, manipulate the weather, and use vast combinations of words to create spells for endless possibilities. But none of them knew the exhilaration of running free. Elsie had the best of both worlds, yet she found herself caught between two lives.

Both sides of her were equally strong and neither could be suppressed for too long. Elsie dashed down the mountainside, running to the next mountain and the next, covering great distances with little effort. When she ran, she felt untouchable, strong, and brave. She felt her place at the top of the food chain. She stopped on top of a grassy plateau, lifted her head, and howled, drowning out the hoot of owls. Her powerful call silenced the forest. Elsie looked over the darkened woods with a satisfied grin.

The woods around her seemed to hold its breath—the forest creatures waiting for permission to resume their activities. Immediately, the hair on her back lifted and a snarl parted her lips as a massive brown bear charged through the forest straight at her. She flew down the plateau and around Brutus, snapping at his hairy back. Brutus spun around and took a swipe at her with his thick claws, but Elsie was already racing around him. Her growls were answered by vicious roars as Brutus spun around again and again to face her. When his paw came within an inch of her muzzle, she jumped back, fangs bared.

She darted past him, snarling, and bit him from behind, quickly releasing his thick hide to put a good three feet between them before he had a chance to whip around again. Elsie could run circles around Brutus, but without the help of packmates, she would tire out quickly. These were as much her woods as his. Her lips lifted over her gums and a snarl rose in her throat.

The next time she got around him, she bit him above his back leg. Brutus roared and jerked around. His mouth opened wide enough to fit her entire head between his jaws. As soon as she got around him, she pounced to nip him again. A thick hairy arm and wide paw swung at her as she closed in. Brutus batted her away as though she weighed no more than a twig. She flew back and crashed against a tree trunk, crying out in dismay. He performed the transformation on two legs, watching her the entire time with dark black eyes that turned brown. His snout receded, ears shrank, and fur turned into hair that covered his head, face, chest, arms, and legs.

Buried beneath all the hair was a tall, muscular man with a sharp jaw and stern gaze. Elsie shifted as Brutus approached. She spoke an incantation as she stood, calling for an invisible barrier between herself and Brutus—one he walked right through. She repeated her words, spreading her arms to strengthen the spell, but Brutus kept coming. His fishy breath hit her face from half a foot away.

Brutus grinned wide but did not leer at her naked form. He was too busy turning over his right arm to show her the symbols carved into his skin. A curved line cupped his wrist before descending four inches down his arm where it curled into a pentagram.