The Witching Hour – Love Bitten Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love, Novella, Paranormal, Vampires, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
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Celeste cocked her head and looked up at me quizzically. “What do you think he meant about not letting them find us at the house?”

I scowled as I chewed on his advice. “Does anyone in your coven have the ability to make a force field?”

She rubbed her neck, her expression thoughtful. “No. But several incantations would have a similar effect. You think they would try to trap us in while keeping your family out?”

I nodded and moved her off my lap so I could swing my feet to the floor and stand. “That’s exactly what I think. Then anyone who can get through this spell would only have to face you and me. My guess is they’ll send in the High Priestess.”

Celeste gasped and scrambled off the bed. “I have more power than her, but she’s older and has much more experience. Honestly, I don’t think anyone in our coven actually knows how old she is. But that makes her magic more dangerous because she knows how to wield it to her best advantage. Things I’m still learning.”

My father’s voice popped into my head. Where should we meet?

Her coven probably didn’t know that I owned the nearly twenty acres of land behind my house. We had used it for a lot of activities and parties with our family and friends. So it would give us the advantage since we were all familiar with the terrain.

In the clearing by the stream, I answered.

I’ll let everyone know.

Thanks. Get them there as fast as you can.

Celeste and I were dressed in seconds, then I teleported us to the kitchen. She grabbed something quick to eat while I punctured a bag of blood with my fangs and drank it straight from there. After downing three bags, I rinsed my mouth in the sink so I didn’t look like I’d just stepped out of an Anne Rice novel.

My consort was waiting for me at the large island, having finished her own snack.

I held out my hand, and she grabbed it, allowing me to pull her into the circle of my arms.

“Ready?”

She grimaced. “Physically? Yes. But if you’re asking if I’m ready to face off with the people who were my family for the first eighteen years of my life, then…I don’t have an answer.”

I kissed her softly. “I’m sorry, love.”

“Me too. Not for the way my life is turning out. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But for their choice not to accept it, forcing me to see them as my enemy.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay behind and let us handle this shit?” I’d tried several times to convince her to stay out of the fight. With no success. I had no illusions that this time would be any different, but I still had to try.

“Let’s go, caveman,” she said with an adorable eye roll.

We were standing in a clearing an instant later. I’d brought Celeste here a few times—though those had been a very different, much more pleasurable experience.

My parents were already there, speaking quietly with my brother Braeden and his consort, Callidora. I knew he wouldn’t be much happier to have her in the fight. But she was a complete badass—I’d made sure of it.

The others began popping in until our numbers would be at least equal to that of the coven. They gathered around me and Celeste.

“I don’t know if Celeste’s parents will come, but try not to engage with them unless it’s defensive magic.” I gave them more instructions and told them where to take their places. Then I added one last thing. “Arthur is mine. If you see an opportunity, take him. But I want him alive.” He was the ticket to Celeste’s freedom.

When everything was set, I took her hand and lifted my chin. “Go ahead and drop the masking spell, love.”

It took no more than a few minutes for us to begin seeing movement in the trees. Above and below.

Witches couldn’t actually fly, but some had mastered the ability to harness the wind in a way that allowed them to “sail” on an object…such as a broom. Hence the folklore.

They gathered in a group facing me and Celeste. A woman stepped forward. She was tall and thin, with black hair that was streaked with gray worn in a thick braid hanging over one shoulder. Her face showed signs of aging, but she was still ethereally beautiful.

Her bearing was regal, and she looked down her nose with disdain as her gaze took in the sight before her. I assumed this was the head of the coven.

“Celeste,” she greeted my consort kindly. “It’s so good to see you, child. We have missed you.”

I might have believed her act if I hadn’t seen the coldness lurking in her dark, steely eyes.

“You missed me? Or you missed what you hoped to gain from me?” Celeste asked, her expression blank.


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