Because I left the circle with my ritual unfinished, the sacred space has been compromised.

I give the people up on the deck my back and do my best to tune out their murmurings.

Except Sin. I couldn’t tune out his aura right now if the entire thirteen-member Voisin coven was here to draw support from. And it’s not just him that’s got me shaken.

Overall, the magick here isn’t quite right. I was struggling even before the animals showed up. Not only is it a weak space, the energy is in widdershins — that is, it flows counter clockwise instead of clockwise. It’s rubbed me the wrong way since my first step into the circle.

Nothing I tried tonight could correct its direction.

Deep breath, I step back into it anyway. The bristle of the portal shimmies up my core with an awkward friction.

I pick up the now cooled smudge bundle. I reignite it on the white center candle.

The smoke helps to slow the counter clockwise flow. That’s better, but still not right.

There’s only the one entity here. And he — it’s clear it’s male — isn’t necessarily a bad energy. It’s just angry and confused. I straighten my spine and assert my power full force on it.

“I command you—”

Whoa. The candles pop and flicker, the energy resisting me with a blast of refusal.

The foxes, Fillmore, Marvin, along with the shy female bobcat, choose that moment to amble down the deck stairs. Most of the older foxes and Marvin give the circle a respectful berth. But the younger ones traipse right beside it, skimming the light and the essence.

How rude.

“Good night to you, too,” I say to their backs.

Fillmore raises a hand over his head backwards to flip me off without breaking his stride.

There’s no love lost between the entity in the circle and those shifters, that’s for sure. It takes all my strength to hold the energy inside.

Sin hurries down the stairs. The intent in his gait clear. He wants to go after the boorish feline.

“Not worth the effort,” I say low.

Sin pauses. He’s put on sweats that hang low on his hips.

The rogue shifters disappear back into the dark woods from which they came. With their retreat, the energy in the circle with me calms and stills.

Was it their shifter auras causing the widdershins?

Sin turns around to face me. His golden eyes bore into mine with that crazy intensity. His aura still vibrates at an alarming rate.

The best thing to do is just finish the ritual.

“I close this circle thrice about, let’s keep the evil spirits out.” I chant and walk clockwise around the circle, brandishing the sage bundle from ground-level to reaching on my tiptoes.

On the third and final time around, the energy follows my lead.

Good.

No. It isn’t evil.

I lay the sage on the white center candle to let it finish burning and complete the space cleanse.

Picking up the athame, I thank the elements and spirits while I score a pentagram into the ground around the flaming sage. Then, I begin to connect the points of the star with a circle — securing the energy that I conjured and shared here tonight into the space. So that, over time, this circle will improve and become a stronger portal between worlds.

“Oh pentacle of power, boundary between me and the mighty one.” The entity swirls around me clockwise.

Very good. And a great place to close the spell. I speed up the connection.

“It harm none, let my ritual tonight be done.” I finish at the top of the star where spirit resides.

In a whoosh, the perimeter candles snuff themselves.

The center flame roars thick, high and hot before it, too, snuffs. The contrary entity leaves with the light in a big cloud of billowing sage ash.

Now the night is silent.

Now the only light are the twinkling stars.

Now the only thing I feel is Sin.

He waits for me just outside the circle holding my worship robe open. Mesmerized by his aura, I step out of the circle and slip my arms into the sleeves of the robe.

The portal of magick closed, Sin’s aura has relaxed — but not completely. His hands tie the belt and then rest on my shoulders.

The rest of the Wildes have joined us in the yard. Their glances at me range from apprehension to curiosity to awe.

Ram’s jaw hangs low. “That was amazing.”

I nod to acknowledge his comment and, feeling more magnanimous now, look at Harding.

“Want to see what I can do with that?” I motion to his broken arm.

“No way.” Harding, good hand up in defense, backs away, pivots and with giant strides, heads for the three vehicles parked haphazardly just inside the back gate — the totally destroyed back gate.

“I’m a clean witch. You don’t have to be afraid of me,” I call after him.

He raises his good hand and flips me off, too. Backwards just like Fillmore did.

“I swear I taught that boy better.” Opal shakes her head. “We’ll set his arm back at the house.”

“There’s not a doctor nearby?” I ask.

Her lips tilt down on one side. “I’m the doctor.”

I get the feeling she wants to say something more about that. Whatever that may be is cut off with a sudden but long exhale of a breath — a release that sounds like an agonizing epiphany.

She looks directly into my eyes for the first time tonight. “I’m sorry. Had I known that you—” She cuts herself off, again. With glossy, exhausted eyes, she motions to her brood. “Come on, kids. Let’s go home.”

Sin’s siblings follow her to the back gate. Ram starts up his white truck. On her way past Sin’s truck, Willow slams his door closed. Then, she gets into the red SUV with Opal and Harding — the engine of which has been idling since their attack started.

From behind me, Sin wraps my shoulders with his arms. His warmth and touch both comforts and stimulates.

I kiss his forearm. He kisses my head.

Only when the taillights are out of sight do I stir and turn around.

The animal inside Sin won’t let him be. That much is clear. I lay a hand on his bare chest.

“I can feel him.” The vibration slows and deepens under my touch.

Sin has been so quiet, barely saying anything.

Is that normal for him? For bear shifters?

I’ve only ever known wolves.

This doesn’t feel like a peaceful quiet, though. It’s a bottled up kind of quiet. A calm before the storm sort of quiet.

The moment I saw him, I recognized him. Even in bear form. Even roaring like a monster — furious and big and intimidating. I wasn’t afraid of him for a second, because I knew his rage was on my behalf. It was because of him, and seeing Ram morph right before my eyes, that I figured out pretty quickly what was going on.

Now I understand what their strange auras mean.

The gauze at Sin’s waist is striped red.

“You’re still bleeding.” I move out of his arms and take his hand. “C’mon.” I lead him up the stairs and back inside.

In the kitchen, I sit him on a stool at the island.

All the medical supplies I found in Earl’s cupboards earlier are strewn all over the great room.

I take a step in that direction.

“Stop. Stop. Where are you going?” Sin’s off the stool, hands on my waist he stumbles along behind me.

“I’m just getting this.” I pick up a spritz bottle of wound cleaner from the sideboard. “See.” I turn and wiggle the bottle to show him.

His eyes lighten back to the beaming white. He doesn’t even see the bottle I’m holding.

I put it down and catch his face between my hands. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry.” His strange eyes bore into mine. “I thought they’d—” He kisses me — slow and desperate. “If they woulda hurt you—”

“But they didn’t. I don’t think that was part of their plan.” I caress Sin’s jaw, trying desperately to soothe him. “Honestly, I think they only meant to frighten me.” I grunt and smirk. “It worked at first.”

“No.” He breathes the word in such pain, such a vulnerable sound coming from an alpha.

“At first.” I smooth my hand along his face to reassure him. “It worked at first. I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay.” He repeats. It registers in his eyes this time, the white fades back to let that incredible copper brown shine through.

“Yes. I’m fine.” I feather kisses along his jaw and throat.

“You’re fine.” Hand firmly on the back of my neck, he pulls my mouth closer to slant his across. The kiss is warm and slow, as though he’s testing me.

“You’re okay.” He whispers, his voice tinged with something hotter than worry.

“Yup,” I murmur.

When I press my lips to his, something in him combusts, our connection sizzling.

He pulls me as physically close as possible. My breath catches at the bulge rising solid and scorching between us.

“I need you,” he breathes, forehead to forehead, burying his hands in my hair.

The fire in him lights a flame of awareness bright inside my belly.

Practicing the craft always lights me up, always makes me more sensitive mentally and physically directly after. It’s the energy that flows in a circle — even in a weak one like the one tonight. That energy heightens tactility and sensation.

Tonight, I have an extreme case of after-ritual turn on.

Tonight, I can’t resist the pull of my bear shifter cowboy.

Can’t.

Resist.

Him.

I press forward against his thick shaft. I want to crawl on top of him and ride.

Right now.

A rumble echoes through Sin’s chest.

His hands rove all over my back. He pants, but waits, his eyes searching mine.

I tangle my hands in his mop of hair and nip lightly on his bottom lip.

“I want you, too.”

A feral smile, Sin’s vibration changes completely. It’s a masculine frequency that my femininity picks up and resonates with.

Slowly he inches up the back of my robe with his fingertips.

Up and up it goes until my backside is bare. Gentle, he caresses my skin there. Too gentle.

I moan.

One of his hands circles to the front of the robe. With a tug of the belt, the hand-stitched silk drapes open. A flick of my shoulders, it glides to the floor.

He skims one of my breasts with a hand, his thumb fondling a hard, sensitive nipple.

“Oh.” I let my head fall back, give him space to touch wherever he wishes.

His lips trace a path from my sternum to earlobe.

I take in his musky essence. Sweet and pungent, the scent awakens a latent sliver of my libido. It spills hot, wet and ready — for Sin, just for Sin. Hungry. Starving for Sin.

Sin inhales. The look on his face tells me that he can smell my arousal.

“I want to taste you.” He lifts me to the dining room table and gathers my hair back into a ponytail.

“Lie down, Fallon.”

When I do, he fans my hair up and off the table. Then, he stands back and looks down at me.

“Mmmmmmm.” A wild euphony hums on his vocal chords as his eyes scan my body.

Heart slamming in my chest, I arch my back — preening for him and shimming in need of his touch.

He licks his lips and obeys my silent wish, caressing my belly, ribs and up to my breasts.

“So succulent.” He squeezes and caresses them before lowering his mouth to lick a nipple — oh so lightly. Too lightly. I arch for more, pressing shamelessly against his tongue and lips.

He squeezes my breasts and licks the nipple again.

I groan out a plea of what I hope sounds like his name.

“Mmmmm.” His steadfast baritone hums spread sweet melodies over my responsive flesh.

“A delicious perfect little appetizer.” He sucks it into his feverish mouth and I’m gone — lost to a raging inferno between my legs.

He snarls, lifts his head and moves to the foot of the table. Gripping one of my ankles in each hand, he pulls me to him. I slide along with the table runner. His focus never leaves my eyes.

There’s more than lust in his gaze. There’s a promise, a surrender of his own in his eyes. Who knew there could be a big bounty of tenderness wrapped inside such scalding passion?

My heart, too, sings just as loud and as clear as my libido does. I do believe I’m about to be made love to.

Sin inhales deep and sexy, again, the eyes of precious metal rolling closed as he lowers his head.

“Ooooooooh.” I lift my pelvis clear off the table.

What touches my clit is sheer electricity. It arcs from his mouth to light up the most sensitive parts of me, parts that have never seen the light before.

A ferocious snarl, Sin wraps his big hands around my thighs keeping me in place, his ravenous mouth covering me, eating me with an abandon that drives me even wilder.

Oh, the sensations he creates. He sucks and laps and licks the very seam of my core. All I can do is melt into him and surrender.

I’d been given oral sex before. This magick is nothing like those other times. Sin devours me with shameless slurps of joy, with skillful abandonment. Oh no, this doesn’t come close to anything I’ve ever experienced before.

He’s claiming me.

Dominating.

Savoring.

Branding me with his hunger.

The masterful sweeps of his tongue coil me tighter around myself, tighter around the long finger he slips inside me.

One pump, two — a lick and a suck.

My release begins low with rhapsodic swirls. Then, bursts of ethereal light unleash blinding waves of blissful convulsions.

Out they flow, endless crests that then flow back in sublime swells of cathartic pleasure.

In my delirium, I’m vaguely aware of Sin standing up, me sliding forward and his rhythmic thumb on my clit.

“Ooooh. Oooooh.” I don’t even recognize the breathy pitch of my voice as another orgasm sweeps hard and deep over the first. This one is savage. This one hurls me to the edge of reason, coats my psyche with pure carnal glory, and sends me back to Sin for more.

“Mine.” He enters me with a claiming thrust.

And I, on the third layering climax seemingly in as many minutes, sail into heaven itself.