Extraits

“He ruined my date, Wynter. He told her I’d lied about my name—”

“Well, you did.”

“—that I wasn’t really Italian—”

“Well, you’re not.”

“—and that I was a chronic liar whose word couldn’t be trusted.”

“You honestly disagree with that assessment?”

Xavier’s mouth flattened. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Why risk yourself that way?”

Her brow creased. “Why do you sound offended that I would?”

His lips flattening, he pulled her toward him using his grip on her shoulders, closing the small gap between them. “I want you to want to live, Wynter. I want you to value enough what we have that you’d at least want to live so we can see where this goes.”

“I’d already sensed that you aren’t a mere witch.” If she was surprised that he’d already reached that conclusion, she didn’t show it. “What exactly are you?”

“What exactly are you?”

“I asked first.”

“I’ll answer if you will.”

He sighed, having already expected that would be her response.

“Don’t make light of this. Don’t act as if the incident was a minor issue. An attack on you will always be far from minor to me, no matter how much backup you have.”

Her frown smoothing out, she played her fingers through his hair. “The protective routine shouldn’t make me all tingly, should it?”

A ribbon of amusement unfurled inside him. “You know, most people get nervous when I’m pissed off.”

“Most people don’t have my perverse libido.”

Xavier looked at her, his eyes bright. “Can we kill them?”

“It’s that or let them run back home with information that we don’t want the Aeons to possess so, yeah, we can kill them,” said Wynter.

He flashed her a slow grin and conjured his sword. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

"Just pretend they're not there. I often do."

- Wynter

Mona. Joli prénom. Je m'appelle Colton...

Il avait vu son nom sur son badge, et s'était adressé à elle avec un accent du Sud, mais il s'interrompit en sentant une main d'homme sur son épaule.

— Est-ce que tu racontes encore des bobards, fiston? lui demanda Elias, l'air amusé.

Xavier se raidit et se retourna à moitié sur son siège pour regarder l'Alpha debout derrière lui.

— Ne m'appelle pas « fiston », lâcha-t-il en lui décochant un regard assassin.

- Tu n'arrêtes pas de faire des bêtises. Mais ce n'est pas grave. Papa se fera un plaisir de te donner une fessée, lui chuchota-t-il à l'oreille.

Xavier le dévisagea comme s'il était fou.

—Tu es défoncé, là, non? Cela expliquerait beaucoup de choses.

Elias gloussa, serra l'épaule de Xavier, fit un petit clin d'œil discret à Wynter et s'éloigna en compagnie de membres de sa meute.

— Est-ce que je peux le buter maintenant? demanda-t-il

—Il essaie juste de te faire sortir de tes gonds. Tu n'as qu’à arrêter de réagir.

Hattie se tapota le menton.

—Je me demande s'il se sert d'une règle pour taper sur Les fesses... Vous pensez qu'il aime vraiment jouer au papa dominateur? Il n'a pourtant pas l'air du genre à apprécier les jeux de rôle.

— Qu'est-ce que tu sais de ces jeux? demanda Delilah.

—J'ai beaucoup lu sur la question, répondit Hattie. Je trouve ce mode de vie fascinant. Je comprends qu'on puisse avoir envie d'y participer.

“But then, it’s what revenants are built for, isn’t it? To avenge.”

She frowned. “This isn’t me being vengeful.”

“Ah, I see. You’re trying to turn me on.”

“What? No, you weirdo. It’s supposed to bother you enough that you’ll remove the barrier in exchange for me removing the curse.”

Xavier grinned. “You called us a coven,” he whispered. “About fucking time.”