Trickery
By Sabrina York
5/5
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About this ebook
Though seducing a mortal is expressly forbidden, novice witch Willow Ostreth wants one. Bad. Unbeknownst to Willow, Austin—the glorious, delicious specimen who makes her heart pound and her body weep—is no mere mortal. He's really Damien DeWinter, a powerful warlock, a man determined to lure Willow—and bind her—to his bed.
When the luscious Willow breaks the rules and uses her magic to ensnare him, Damien—rebel, renegade, outcast from the Witching World—figures he has carte blanche to pursue her and seduce her using any means possible. And his arsenal is vast.
As they tempt and torment each other with pleasure, neither realizes there is a greater magic at work. One that could bind them together, forever.
5 Flames
Sabrina York
Sabrina York is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than twenty hot, humorous written works, including Hannah and the Highlander. Her stories range from sweet and sexy to scorching romance.
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Book preview
Trickery - Sabrina York
Dedication
For Sera
Edited by: Carrie Jackson
Cover Art by: Dar Albert
Chapter One
You can’t be serious, Willow.
Skylar Skarsgård tipped her head and gazed over her shaded glasses at the waiter...just as he bent to pick up a heavy box. Two things were supremely evident—his bulging pecs and his tight, firm ass. He is yummy,
she murmured reflectively. Then she recalled herself and turned a quelling glare on her protégé, her albatross. It behooved her to remember to whom she was speaking. Willow was young—the youngest witch in the coven—and extremely impressionable. And reckless. And horny. The Council would have a fit. You know it is forbidden to use your magic to seduce a mortal.
But he’s so hot.
Willow batted her long lashes and wriggled in her chair just to emphasize the point.
Skylar ignored her. Ignored her bouncing red curls and glittering green eyes. The pink tongue dabbing at bow-shaped lips. For one thing, she didn’t need anyone to tell her the waiter was hot. That was patently obvious. For another, paying attention to Willow’s brash statements would only encourage her mischief.
The last thing this child needed at this juncture in her life, was encouragement.
For a moment, she envied Willow’s zest for life, the ebullient enthusiasm of the young. But then she remembered her own trials—and mistakes—during her early years, and snorted. There were costs in all things. There always were.
Willow would learn this. Life would temper her. It always did. Skylar hoped for Willow the lessons wouldn’t be too painful...or come too late.
And they could hardly afford the consequences at this point—any of them. There was a lot at stake here and the burden was on Skylar to make sure disaster didn’t descend. Trouble was, Willow—darling, daring, impetuous Willow—was a disaster waiting to happen.
Hot or not, you know you cannot use your magic to seduce him.
Willow put out a lip. It’s not fair.
No. It’s not.
Most novitiates completed this phase of their training well before they hit puberty, when sexual energy was easily reined in, channeled. Willow had been discovered late. Extremely late. But it had been a joyous discovery for the coven, for the entire Witching World. In a time when technology seemed to be snuffing magic out, it was a miracle to find pure, unbridled and true talent.
Skylar shot a look at her protégé. Well. Perhaps the talent could have been a little more bridled.
She sighed. Willow was a trial. She was willful and impatient and stubborn and, dear Gaia, horny. But the Congregation needed her. Her talent, her magic. Her power. She was the secret to their survival. The Auspices had so decreed.
Willow huffed a breath and thrust out a lip. "It’s not my fault I can’t attract men in the normal way anymore. I don’t understand why Midea had to make me this hideous." She mangled a paper napkin, her attention fixed on the waiter. Skylar could smell her arousal.
If mortal men possessed the sense to read her, they’d be on her like a pack of wolves.
She forced her lips into something akin to a smile and patted Willow’s hand. She understood the girl’s pain. When she—or any of the Sisters—looked at Willow, they saw her true self, a bubbly, charming, beautiful woman, a truly talented witch. What others saw, what mortal humans saw, well, it wasn’t pretty. Chin hairs and back fat and googly eyes. No wonder men barely noticed her. Midea had certainly outdone herself with this spell. The Great Mother Witch was determined to keep her little treasure pure.
Your obscurity protects you, Willow. And not just from random, unworthy men who will want you.
And what if I want them?
"What part of unworthy don’t you understand? Soon you’ll be an Enchantress. You’ll take the vows. You have an obligation to propagate the magic. You can’t just fuck any old—she waggled her fingers in the vague direction of the screeching espresso machine—
coffee vendor."
"That coffee vendor is hot."
Yes. He is.
He was. Extraordinarily so. He would have to be, to snag Skylar’s attention. She’d been a member of the Congregation for more years than she could count. She’d lost her taste for mortal men, ordinary men. And so would Willow—even super-hot coffee vendors with—dear Gaia. Was he flexing his biceps?
Oh. He was.
Skylar studied the bulging, veined muscles for a moment, let her gaze drift to the cut abs visible through his tight tee shirt. A little drool pooled in her mouth.
She shook her head. What was she thinking? Ah yes. Willow. She, too, would lose her interest in mundane men. If she could just be patient.
It would only take a hundred years or so.
Darling, that boy is not for you.
Willow pouted. "It’s my Coming Out. I don’t understand why I can’t celebrate it the way I want."
You’ll celebrate it the way we all do. In the Sacred Circle. The Goddess will select a mate for you and that will be that.
Skylar drained her coffee.
What if I don’t want someone picking out a mate for me? What if I don’t want him?
Skylar had to laugh at her naiveté. You will. You will.
Warlocks could be the most seductive creatures—when they wanted to. During certain times of the year, they were downright irresistible. There was a reason they stayed on their side of the Circle. There was a reason some witches kept their distance before they were mated.
And she wasn’t thinking of one man in particular. She wasn’t. Determinedly, she thrust him from her mind.
She stood and kissed her protégé on the cheek. I have to fly now.