Chapter 3: The Seduction - Bloodween

“ONE THING ABOUT MEN, THEY WILL FOLD.”

I’d been waiting eight years for this day—seven of them spent hunting for the perfect prey. And for the past fifteen months, I thought that prey was Renna.

She was what my coven would consider a perfect Bloodween sacrifice.

Not only was she a werewolf I knew—a basic requirement—but she also was my best friend.

We’d been friends since college and best friends for the last two and a half years. Though I’d really put in work to hone the friendship once I realized last year that she’d been turned.

She trusted me completely, and that trust would’ve made her sacrifice potent. Would’ve guaranteed the ritual took. Would’ve given me enough power to skip straight past the Lesser Crimson and land where I belonged, with the Bloodborn.

The Bloodween ritual didn’t work on strangers. It required betrayal—real, raw, intimate betrayal. The kind that came from trust. From friendship. From love.

I had no intention of falling for a werewolf, but close friendships I could do. The closer the relationship, the greater the power gain. The higher the success rate.

And I refused to be the witch who failed. That’s why I took my time and waited for a Bloodween I could be part of.

As a Crimson Witch, Bloodween could be one of the most important days of your life. It only happened every three years, and only three witches could participate.

Three Bound Witches.

Bound Witches were Crimson Witches who were descendants of the Blood Coven’s bloodline.

A bloodline with dormant vampire genes.

A bloodline that could feed.

Getting the approval to participate was no easy feat, and now, because of Renna’s carelessness, I had to sacrifice a new prey.

Dorian.

But Dorian and I didn’t have the level of friendship Renna and I had. We were friendly. Cordial. I knew him through Renna—double dates, game nights, group brunches. I’d been to his apartment. He’d been to mine. We’d gotten tipsy together at Renna’s birthday earlier this year and talked shit about her terrible taste in reality TV.

But we weren’t close.

Which meant higher risk. The ritual might not take. I could end up losing my magic for three years. Or worse—his spirit could bind to me, haunt me, drive me mad.

The odds weren’t in my favor.

But the elixir that bounced around in my stomach didn’t seem to get that memo. What it wanted, what it demanded was right in front of me.

A werewolf. Alone. Isolated in what had to be the middle of nowhere.

I didn’t have time to waste. My body didn’t have enough time to find Renna, go through the motions and woes of whatever she probably was dealing with right now with both her disappearing, and get her in a vulnerable enough state to kill her.

But what I did have was him.

A fine specimen of a man who I had no choice but to make the perfect sacrifice.

Otherwise, I’d be dead by lunch. And I wasn’t letting that happen.

He licked his plump lips as he set me free, rubbing my wrists gently. I took a moment to appreciate that if nothing else, Renna had good taste in men.

I looked at him—really took him in. At the way his broad shoulders were still tense. The way he didn’t seem like he knew what to do. The way his eyes flickered gold every few seconds, betraying how much he lacked control right now.

And that he didn’t feel the need to hide himself from me.

He must trust me enough not to feel threatened.

Good.

“Does anyone else outside of Renna and your pack know what you are?”

“No.”

“Aww, I’m the first. I’m honored.” I winked and a low rumble escaped from him. He was still crouched in front of me.

I kind of liked the submission.

Maybe somewhere deep down, I too was into some weird kinky stuff.

Or maybe I was just thirsty. Hungry. Craving.

The elixir rolled again, annoyingly stronger now, and I had to press a hand to my stomach.

Dorian noticed. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I said I’m fine.”

He studied me as if he was actually concerned. “Is it a witch thing?”

You have no idea.

I stood, forcing him to do the same. He took a step back, making distance between us. Smart. I stretched and then pulled my phone out of the pocket it had been tucked away in.

My notifications showed missed calls and texts.

This is all your fault, Ren.

“So,” he said carefully. “What happens now?”

I peered at him. At his guilt-ridden face. His nervous energy. I honestly didn’t know why he was so nervous. If this was any other day, we’d laugh about it. Well, I would before deciding if I’d have his memory about my secret erased or not.

But he didn’t even know he’d walked into a trap.

The elixir sang.

And I committed to my new plan.

I put my phone down on the coffee table and took a step toward him. “Now?” I let my voice drop, smooth and low. “Now we negotiate.”

His brow furrowed. “Negotiate what?”

“Your secret for mine.” I took another step. “You don’t tell anyone I’m a witch. I don’t tell Renna I know about y’all secret. Or that you kidnapped me.”

“That’s partially her fault.”

“True. But you think she wants to know?”

He sighed. “Nah. So I guess this is all fair.”

“And,” I continued, closing more distance, “we forget this ever happened. You drive me home. I text Renna I got sick at the party and left. We pretend this was all a weird Halloween dream.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That works.”

“Or,” I said, stopping right in front of him.

His breath caught. Eyes flashed. I had his wolf’s attention. Exactly as I expected I would.

I glanced up at him through my lashes and let my voice slip into something quieter and more intimate. “We could make the most of it.”

“Make the most of—” His eyes widened. “Armisha.”

“What?” I trailed a finger down his chest, felt his heart rate spike. “We’re already here. Already alone. Already keeping secrets.”

“That’s—we can’t—Renna⁠—”

“Renna,” I said, “went to your apartment to find proof you’re cheating. Which you already admitted you are.” I felt him tense under my hand. “So tell me, Dro. Are you really worried about her feelings right now? Is Varek?“

I was sure I heard his wolf purr.

His jaw clenched. His hands flexed at his sides, like he wanted to touch me but wouldn’t let himself.

Perfect.

“Varek would ruin you.”

He’s considering.

“Maybe I want to be ruined.” My tongue ran across my bottom lip. “I’ve never been with a werewolf before,” I murmured, watching his pupils dilate.

“Armisha.” It came out rough. Strained. “This isn’t what you want.”

“No, I’m not what you want. Or do you?”

He growled, pushing me away with gentle force. I grinned. “Why are you fighting your wants, your needs. It’s much more fun to give in. Besides, it’s Halloween. That’s when everyone makes bad decisions.”

“You’re her best friend.”

“And I already proved I know how to keep a secret. Don’t you wanna see what it’s like to be with a blood witch?” My tone was so seductive, I barely recognized it.

He had to give in. We had no other choice.

“We can’t,” he stated, more firmly this time and if I was a wolf, I’d rip his head off his shoulders.

I calmed the frustration flushing through me. As desperate as I was to build a bond, begging him wouldn’t work. Forcing him wouldn’t work.

“Fine,” I sighed, grabbing my phone. “You should probably charge your phone and let your girlfriend know you’re alive. She asked about you. And turn off your location.”

“My location stays off.”

“Of course it does,” I muttered. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom before we leave. Where is it?”

“Wait.” His hand wrapped around my forearm. He quickly drew it back and through the mirror I saw my eyes glowing red.

“You’re mad?”

“I’m not.”

Anxious? Frustrated? Offended? Yes. But I wasn’t mad. However, his touch only made me want to lose my shit. And attacking him wouldn’t help. I needed this Crimson Elixor to chill.

“Where is the bathroom?”

He ignored my question, again. “So you’re not gonna hit her back?” he asked.

“No. Like I said, I’m gonna let her think I got sick from the food and passed out from vomiting exhaustion or something. I’ll text her tomorrow.”

If I’m still alive.

“Oh.”

“I told you, I’m a woman of my word. Now, bathroom.”

He pointed towards the hallway. “Second door on your left.”

I powerwalked away from him. His aura was suffocating and maybe I was lying to myself: I was mad. A little pissed off because as soon as the bathroom door closed, I wanted to scream out in annoyance.

But I couldn’t. Now was not the time to be weak. Or to panic. I needed to figure out plan C, D, and E since plan B was clearly failing. I guess he cared more about Renna than I gave him credit for.

My mind went on a tear.

It would be so much easier if I could use a short and sweet seduction spell on him, but nothing about Bloodween was meant to be easy. Otherwise, every Crimson Witch who was eligible would do it. The risks would be low. The sacrifice would be simple. The power that came from the success of it would feel mundane—when the real thing is meant to make you feel reborn, even if it consumes you. That’s why we weren’t allowed to tamper with the odds—no spells to soften prey or tilt the ritual in our favor.

“Aye!” Three knocks sounded on the bathroom door and I jumped. “You good in there?”

I glanced down at my phone to see I had been sitting on the toilet for eleven minutes. Eleven minutes of wasted time, and it was clear my only viable option was going back to the city—hoping to find Renna at home, in her bed, and sound asleep.

And then? Doing what I’d always planned to do.

“Yeah. I’ll be out in a second.” I flushed, washed my hands, and gave myself one final pep talk before swinging open the door.

I jumped back, not expecting to see him. All six-two of his glory filled the doorway. Dorian had to be at least two hundred and twenty pounds, built like one of those defensive players on a football team. His rich brown skin was painted over his toned body and—AND why are we admiring him? He didn’t give in to our advances. He’s not worthy of anything but sacrifice

“Why are you standing right here?” I asked as his eyes roamed over me before stepping aside.

“Thought you might’ve escaped through the bathroom window.”

I turned my mouth up at him. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

“A lil bit.”

“He. He.” I fake-smiled and walked past him, heading back toward the living room.

He stopped me as we got to the entrance of the bedroom. I looked back at him, his eyes their normal shade of brown, but his energy had shifted.

“What?” I asked.

He stuffed his hands into his fitted gray pants. “You have a smart mouth.”

“I’m a smart girl,” I stated sarcastically.

“That has always intrigued me.”

“Okay?”

What was he getting at? The fact that he found me mean? Whoopty-doo.

He took me in again, slower this time, making my blood curl.

“What if we do what you asked and,” he paused, “one of us wants more? Wants it to happen again?”

Oh.

“More of what?” I feigned ignorance. “Have you ever wanted more with any of the women you’ve dabbled with?”

“No.”

“Then why would I be any different? This would just be sex. One time. A little witch and werewolf fun. I won’t want more.”

“Varek might,” he admitted. “And you’re Ren’s best friend. That could be dangerous.”

I wish he’d stop bringing her up. And stop letting his little wolf control him. Man up, sheesh.

“You have to learn how to control your wolf. He picked you to bond with—that doesn’t mean he gets to do as he pleases. You are his host. Make sure he knows that,” I said, putting on my best encouraging voice. He needed someone to soothe his beast while reminding him who really held the leash.

“But there’s something about your scent. I’ve been trying to ignore it but it’s fucking intoxicating. Overwhelming. I—he—keeps begging for you.”

I didn’t know if the scent he spoke of had anything to do with the potion. No one ever said the Crimson Elixor messed with scent, but maybe it did.

Or maybe he was full of shit, using his wolf as an excuse for what he already wanted to do.

Either way, the ruggedness of his words made my heart jump and my magic prick under my skin, though I didn’t let it show.

“See? You do have control. Otherwise you’d let him have his way with me.”

Crimson Circle Initiate Armisha, the seductress, has clocked back in.

“You’re not taking this serious, Armi. This could be a bad idea for us both,” he breathed.

“Probably.” I smiled. He thought it was at him, but it was at the realization that plan B hadn’t failed at all. It only needed time to fester. “But you brought me here for a reason, didn’t you? You wanted to play.”

His hands moved from his sides, slipping to my waist. Uncertain at first. Then firmer. “Not with you,” he said, his voice dropping into a hushed tone of want. And his hands? They were gripping my ass; I didn’t mind it.

“No?” I cocked my head to the side. “Then what’s the point of having this conversation again? If you want to go back to reality, let’s go. I won’t beg you.”

He didn’t move.

Of course he didn’t.

Varek wouldn’t let him. I saw it in his eyes—the gold bleeding through the brown. He looked at me like a man who’d found something rare and wanted to ruin it just to see how it broke. Unfortunately that wouldn’t be me, but I’d let his wolf think he was the predator.

He leaned in, his fro brushing my cheek, his nose grazing the column of my throat like he’d been starved on purpose. He inhaled and kissed the spot he’d claimed with his breath.

A shiver arrowed down my spine.

Traitorous body. Noted.

His hands moved back up, fingers digging into my waist. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” I said, and heat pooled between my legs at his submission. “I’m very sure.”

“You’ll see me in human form, but it’s him. It’s him who wants you, who’s taking you. He won’t stop until he’s had his full. Do you understand that, Armisha? Do you consent to that?”

I did. But why in the hell was I standing here—in the name of my bloodline—asking to be devoured?

Oh yeah. For power. For recognition.

“Yes,” I hummed. “I like a man who’s insatiable, and I want everything both of you have to give.”

The sound he made lived somewhere between a growl and a prayer.

Then he kissed me. Hard. Desperate. Hungry. Yearning.

The kind of kiss that tasted like he’d definitely be the one to want more.

Too bad.

I kissed him back, phone slipping out of my hand as I threaded my fingers through his coily hair, drawing him closer, feeling my soul surge with victory. Finally.

Hook.

Line.

Sinker.

Right now, I might’ve been signing up for one hell of a sex session.

But by morning, he’d be dead.

And I’d be unstoppable.