Satyr's Mate: Mated to the Monster, page 5
I rolled my cart into the Occult section, found the aisle between philosophy of and historical practice of, and started putting away the first set of books. We usually told our visitors not to try to put the volumes back themselves as they often did it wrong, which made it harder for us to find them in the future. Misplacing something in a normal library was annoying; misplacing something here could be dangerous. Certain tomes needed to be kept together, like sisters bound by magic.
As I got up on tiptoe to put the next book onto the top shelf, I gasped when I saw the pair of amber eyes meeting mine from the other side of the shelf through a gap in the books. My brain told me it was just another visitor, like all the other false alarms I’d had in the past few days, but my heart was beating a mile a minute because I could swear those were Shane’s eyes. They were the golden honey of fossilized tree sap.
I didn’t have time to wonder because a few seconds later, Shane’s voice came through the stacks, barely more than a whisper. “Ivy?”
My belly flip-flopped at the sound of my name, my real name, coming from his lips.
“Shane?” I got on my tiptoes again, and our eyes met again. Holy crap, it wasn’t a hallucination. He was really here in my library! I wanted to squeal with joy, though that wouldn’t be appropriate. Not here.
With my brain numb, feeling kinda giddy, and completely unable to process anything, I blurted out the first thing that came to my lips. “Can I help you find something?”
Real smooth, Ivy. Can I help you find something? He wasn’t here to use the library, he was here for me. I hoped.
“Thank you. But I already found everything I’ll ever need. She’s right here.”
Chapter 10
Shane
“I know you’re working, but I brought you an afternoon snack. Lemon chiffon cupcakes from Bearly Legal Cakes & Sweets.”
“Oh!” Her eyes disappeared from between the stacks for a moment before she tiptoed up again. “Those are my favorite.”
“Yeah, I know. You mentioned it in a public comment on your socials.” Great. I was sounding like a total stalker.
I went around the shelf to her. She stood there, book in hand, looking like utter perfection. I wanted to pick her up and have my way with her right here, right now, but I doubted the strict-looking male librarian I’d seen earlier roaming around would approve. He looked the old-fashioned type.
“I know you just had lunch, but I thought you might want these on your break.” I held up the cute cardboard box with the cupcakes.
She put the book in her hand on the cart and took the box from me. “Thank you,” she said softly.
She looked around, and when she saw no one, she opened the box. Her eyes sparkled. “I actually didn’t eat lunch. I just went for a walk and then had a tea at the café. I don’t think I can wait until my break; want to share them with me?”
“Only if I get to feed you.”
Her eyes sparkled again, this time with a different type of hunger, making me remember our wonderful night. As if I could ever forget! I reached into the box and carefully removed one of the cupcakes, peeling back the paper wrapper and holding it out to her.
She took a bite, then darted out her tongue to lick some residual lemon cream off her lips, making me remember how that tongue had felt on my cock. I bent down and licked off the tiny bit she’d missed. Damn, that lemon cream was pretty good. I took a bite myself.
We were soon done with the first cupcake and enjoying the second, this time with Ivy feeding us instead. The pleasure from the sweet treat was written all over her face. Or was that from being around me? Could a monster hope?
Just then, the older male librarian walked into this section of the library. Ivy immediately went into professional librarian mode. And damn, was that hot!
I immediately played along. Angling my body to block the man’s view so Ivy could pop the last piece of lemony goodness into her mouth, I asked her to help me find information on love spells loudly enough for him to hear. She raised her brow, clearly thinking of what had happened at the Gala.
“That would depend on what you’re looking for in particular,” she said after she had swallowed her bite of cupcake. “The history of love spells? The casting of love spells? Or just in general?”
“General information, please.”
“Of course.” She smoothed her hands over the front of her pencil skirt. “That would be in the witchcraft section. Follow me, please.”
I did, trying not to stare too hard at the way her luscious ass looked in the tight fabric.
She brought me to an area of the library that was relatively quiet, without any university students sitting at tables.
“Are you” —she looked down at her hands— “trying to reverse what happened at the gala? I’m sorry I got in the way. If it wasn’t for me, that spell wouldn’t have hit you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to reverse anything. And I don’t think it would make a difference even if I did.”
“What…What do you mean?”
I watched her eyes carefully. “I mean, I think you’re my mate, and whether that spell hit me or not, I’d still end up in the same place eventually. With you.”
Her mouth formed a cute little O. “Then why are you looking up information about it then?”
I grinned. “I just said that so I could spend more time with you and we could get away from that other librarian. He looks strict.”
She smiled. “He is.”
I looked around, and seeing that we were still alone, I whispered, “Come out with me tonight after work. I want to take you on a date. We can test my theory.”
She shook her head. “Spending time together will only solidify the feelings from the spell.”
“That’s okay. I enjoyed my time with you. Didn’t you enjoy your time with me?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it again. After a moment, she said, “Yes, I did,” in a soft voice.
It was a small but sweet victory. “Good. Then let’s do more of it.”
“But how will we know if it’s real? What if it’s just the spell?”
“We won’t know if we don’t try. Please. Come out with me tonight.”
“I’m not…who I said I was at the gala. But you know that already.”
“Yeah, I met your sister. I don’t want her; I want you. And I want to spend more time together so I can get to know the real you, not you when you’re pretending to be Iris. Although I don’t think you were pretending to be her when you were with me later, were you?”
She shook her head, then looked around and lowered her voice even more. “You don’t understand. Iris was supposed to have found her special someone at the event, not me. The fortune teller was positive of that. But my sister didn’t want to get tied down, so I went instead. This whole thing is a mess. I’m not the one you’re meant to be with.”
I frowned. “I don’t care what some random fortune teller said. I felt it even before that spell hit. Didn’t you?”
She didn’t meet my eyes, but the way she fidgeted with her hair told me enough. She’d felt it too.
She plucked a book from the shelf and handed it to me. “It’s chapter three you want,” she said. “I already looked it up. A love spell can’t replace real love. It can only simulate it for a while. Of course, the stronger the spell, the longer it lasts.
“Some love spells only affect the person that it lands on or is directed at; other, more hastily made ones, affect everyone in a general radius, though it is strongest for the person it hits. I think that’s the type that hit us, because I felt something, too.
“The next chapter lists some famous cases where the love spell faded but the two people stayed together, as well as other cases where they didn’t. Love spells result in both happy endings and tragedies.”
“Well, I’m willing to do anything in my power to give our case a happily ever after.”
I took the book from her as she picked up a second, thinner volume. “You’ll want to read this one, too. I…may have left a few sticky notes in there marking the important stuff.” Her cheeks reddened a bit.
I read the cover. Sex and Love: A Deep Dive into Magic. I took the book from her.
She still hadn’t actually agreed to dinner. “If you prefer to stay in instead, we could do that too. I make a mean Spaghetti Bolognese…”
She looked around for a moment, then met my eyes. “Either is fine. Surprise me.”
I grinned. “Great, when should I pick you up?”
“How about seven at my place?”
“Sounds perfect.”
We exchanged contact information, and I made my way to the checkout counter with my two books in hand. When I got into my car and tossed them into the front passenger seat, the second book opened to a page with a bright pink sticky note. Curious, I leaned over and read the paragraph it pointed to.
Apparently, love spells couldn’t create sexual attraction out of nothing; they only augmented what was there to begin with. If there was zero attraction, the caster would need to perform a separate spell for that and link the two together.
It confirmed what I’d known all along. Even without the spell, Ivy was a match for me, at least physically. And she already knew it, having marked that passage in the book. Now all I had to do was convince her we were a match in every other way too. Other option, I could just keep her so deliriously happy that she couldn’t even imagine being without me.
Hmm. Yeah. That was a good plan B.
Chapter 11
Ivy
I checked myself over in the mirror one last time, trying to settle the butterflies in my belly. I’d never been so excited for a date before. Maybe it was because I knew I was guaranteed a good time, and I didn’t just mean in bed later. I already knew we got along, so although this was kind of a first date, it really wasn’t.
Shane had sent me a message earlier, saying he’d made reservations at a restaurant, and promised to cook for me next time.
I tried on several outfits before deciding on a simple fitted black dress under a dark red cardigan in case it got cooler tonight. I finished with a favorite pair of sheer stockings with a seam down the back that showed off my legs.
Dressing demurely but still sexily was an art form, one I think I’d perfected. I caught him staring at my ass today in my pencil skirt. I loved that skirt. It was long enough to wear to work, and the style was simple and unassuming, but the fit was dynamite. It made me feel like a sexy siren.
I still couldn’t believe we’d hidden behind that shelf feeding each other forbidden cupcakes today. I’d felt like a teenager trying not to get caught making out. At least I knew now that the attraction I’d felt was real. It hadn’t been because of the love spell. And it was definitely just as strong now as it had been at the gala. Our chemistry was off the charts. The undying love he claimed he felt might not be real, but the lust sure was.
The secret to making a simple dress and cardigan look sexy, aside from the seamed stockings, was dark red lips and winged liner. Red lips always took things to fuck-me territory.
I was ready as I’d ever be, though a part of me still wondered if this was a horrible idea. Like, what if the spell had faded and he realized he actually wanted a social butterfly like Iris, not a boring librarian like me?
Don’t get me wrong, I loved the way I was and never planned to change, especially not for a man. But if Shane was supposed to be the perfect match for Iris, then surely, he couldn’t be perfect for me. I resolved not to think about it too much and just enjoy my night.
He arrived at my building driving his understated dark green Mercedes S class sedan. Classy without the flash. Nice.
Shane looked good. Same as at the gala and earlier today, he’d chosen to forgo any glamour spell and appear in his natural form.
“You look stunning,” he said as he opened the door for me and helped me into the car. “You can pull off bright pink, but this…” He swallowed, and from the look in his eyes, I’ll bet he was imagining peeling my dress off me.
“Thank you.” The goal of today’s date was to get to know him more outside of the bedroom, but I suddenly got the feeling it was going to be hard to keep my hands off him until the end of the evening.
Shane had made reservations at a Brazilian steakhouse I’d always wanted to try, but never had the opportunity. They seated us in a quiet corner, and on the suggestion of the waitress, I ordered a caipirinha. I’d never had one before. It reminded me a little of a mojito.
After returning to our table with our plates piled high from the salad bar, I asked him about his woods that had propelled him to photography fame. His eyes immediately softened as he told me about his little piece of land and all the creatures who called it home. I couldn’t miss the hint of sadness behind his happy words.
“You miss it?” I asked.
A look of wistful longing flashed in Shane’s eyes. “I’ve been so busy traveling for my work that I’ve only been able to go back a few times this past year. And when I’m not on location, I’m here in Darlington, because it’s easier to run my exhibitions and other parts of my business from the city. It’s off grid, but I’d put in solar panels so there’s electricity, but no internet. Sometimes I feel guilty for not spending more time there, but…”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You had to focus on your photography. But now that your career is established, do you think maybe you could slow down and spend more time there?”
“I should. I mean, I still want to explore the world, show it to people through my lens. But I also want to spend more time where my heart is.” His eyes were glowing as he took my hand from across the table. “I want to show you my woods, Ivy. Come with me next weekend. I know spending time out in the middle of nowhere with no internet might not sound like a lot of fun, but—"
I gave his hands a squeeze. “Actually, that sounds wonderful, especially if I can bring some books.”
“Yes, of course! I have a little lake. I go fishing on it sometimes. I can fish, and you can read.”
That sounded heavenly. “It’s a date, then.”
A server came by to slice perfectly grilled top sirloin onto our plates. Shane savored the food with a zeal that reminded me of his passion in bed. An unwelcome thought suddenly crossed my mind. As much as I wanted to visit his country home, I wasn’t sure I was keen to meet the nymphs.
The green-eyed monster clouded my vision with jealousy. Which was just crazy. Shane wasn’t my anything, not yet. It was just the love spell. And besides, whatever he’d done in the past was in the past. I had no right to be jealous of it, just like he had no right to be upset about anything from my past.
“Hey… What’s that look for?”
Argh! I must be frowning at the mere thought of him dallying with nymphs. Stupid spell.
I decided to be honest. “I’m not sure I’d want to meet all your nymphs. That’s a thing, right? The whole satyrs having orgies with the nymphs of the forest?”
He chose his next words carefully. “It’s a thing…yes… But I don’t have a bevy of wood nymphs living on my land. And even if I did, now that I’ve met you, they’ve lost all appeal. No more moonlight, drunken frolicking with them for me.”
I only sensed honesty, and I was sure he meant every word. But how much of that was just the spell talking? What would happen when the spell faded, and I was just another human woman, one affected by time and gravity? While not actually immortal, wood nymphs were said to live as long as their associated tree, which could mean hundreds, sometimes thousands of years. And they stayed young and beautiful to the very end.
“You don’t look convinced, and I don’t blame you. Us satyrs earned our reputation. And, full disclosure, I’ve done my part to solidify that reputation, and while no nymphs live right on my land, there are some who live nearby. I’m only telling you this because I’d rather you find out now from me, rather than from bumping into one later.” His foot found mine under the table, as if needing more contact as he continued. “It’s not widely known, but sometimes a satyr does find a special nymph, or perhaps a human woman, with whom he settles down and spends the rest of his days. We are not immune to the mate bond.”
“Really? I’ve never heard of that.” I remembered Iris talking about demons who settled down.
Shane chuckled. “Of course not. Most bachelor satyrs, myself included—well, up until last week—try to convince themselves that it doesn’t happen. The ones who are mated claim it’s a wonderful thing, but no one believes them. We try as much as possible to perpetuate our reputation as the playboys of the woodland.”
I knew what a mate bond was, of course. Most of the world did, now that The Wall had fallen. But sometimes it caused just as much heartbreak as it did happiness. Like that awful story I’d read about the daughter of a wolf shifter leader who had to marry into another pack to strengthen pack relations, only to find out her true mate was the first son of a rival pack in the area. What a mess. As far as I knew, that story had not ended happily. Also, a mate bond could mean different things to different species of monsters.
“What does a mate bond mean to a satyr?”
Chapter 12
Shane
I mulled over Ivy’s question carefully before answering. I’d always been a bachelor and up to the moment I’d met Ivy at the gala, I’d always thought I would die the way I lived: single. I didn’t blame her for doubting my sincerity. Hell, even I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth.
Satyrs were meant for a life of careless abandon. We were supposed to drink until we were very inebriated, eat until we were stuffed, and rut until we were sated. Unlike the wood nymphs who cared for their trees and their environs, satyrs had no responsibilities. Some of us adopted the land we lived on, but others simply lived in other creatures’ forests.
Somehow, that sort of thing had suddenly lost its appeal. It was always the same old, same old. Sure, it was fun, but I needed something more. Wasn’t that why I started this photography career in the first place? Because of a longing for something more substantial in life?
