<h4>Chapter 128: Jack-Eye: Watching</h4>


    <strong>JACK-EYE</strong>


    The walls of the motel room press in, trapping her scent, her magic. I’m still burning from the inside out. Whatever she did with that arcane kiss, it’s crawling under my skin like electricity, making my wolf pace and snarl. I breathe through my teeth, fighting for control.


    When I hear Lyre invite Thom in, my stomach drops. I know what’sing. What she’s about to do. But knowing and seeing are two different kinds of torture.


    The door creaks open and there he is—the wizard. Damp hair hanging in his face, smelling of cheap motel soap and nervousness. Too clean. Too weak. I don’t move from my spot against the wall, don’t speak. Just watch, every muscle in my body locked tight as steel.


    Thom freezes when he sees me, his eyes darting between us. "I—uh—"


    Lyre slides past him, shutting the door with a soft click. "Come in,e in. Let’s get this over with." Her voice is bright, casual, like she’s about to help him move furniture instead of—


    She grabs a chair from the small desk, dragging it to the middle of the room. I don’t miss how she angles it with deliberate precision, making sure I’ll have the perfect view of her face. Of her mouth.


    Unfortunately, his dick will be in the picture. But I’m trying not to think about it.


    Thom hovers, uncertain. "What exactly is—"


    "Sit," shemands, and he does, perching nervously on the edge.


    The smirk she shoots me makes my cock twitch. Her eyes lock with mine as she begins exining to the wizard, her tone clinical and detached.


    "Arcana transfer works best with physical contact. The more intimate, the purer and faster the transfer." She tilts her head, rainbow hair cascading over one shoulder, and I want to grab it in my hands and yank until she’s on her knees and begging for more.


    From me. Not from the stupid wilting human.


    "The most efficient way for <i>us</i> would be oral contact," she continues, making this blow-job sound like a medical procedure.


    I like that.


    But not if she speaks that way to meter.


    Then again, I might have a new kink. Nurse Lyre, sucking the evil out of me with her mouth...? Yeah. I’m okay with this.


    Thom’s eyes widen, his pulse quickening so loud I can hear it from across the room.


    Less okay with <i>that</i>.


    "You mean—"


    "My mouth, your dick."


    "M-my d-dick?!"


    "I’m going to blow you, yes." She doesn’t look at him, keeps her gaze fixed on me, like she can read my mind. Her lips are curved up on one side in the faintest smirk and I really wish it was my cock going between those pretty lips of hers.


    This is going to be torture.


    "Problem?" she asks the magic-user, still not looking his way.


    Thom squirms in his seat, swallowing hard. His eyes flick to me, then back to her. "D-does he have to be here?"


    "Yep." She doesn’t even turn to acknowledge him. Just smiles at me, knowing exactly what she’s doing and how hard my cock’s getting.


    Fuck.


    I don’t blink. Don’t move. Want him to feel just how unwee he is in this space between Lyre and me.


    Thom withers under my stare, shoulders hunching. "Okay," he mutters, trying to sound nonchnt. Failing. "I guess that’s... fine."


    Lyre kneels in front of him, and every movement is swift andposed. She looks like she’s done this a thousand times. My fists clench involuntarily, and my wolf both growls and whimpers in my head. He has no idea how to feel, either.


    She takes her time unbuckling his belt, sliding down his zipper. Everything deliberate. Everything for my benefit, because she’s watching me as she does it.


    The wizard’s already trembling.


    When she takes him in her mouth, I see everything—her lips stretched around him, the sh of her tongue, the fluttering of her eyshes. And always, always, her eyes on mine.


    Heat sears through me. My wolf ws at my insides. I want to rip the human to pieces. I want to be the one in that chair. Want her pretty, sassy little mouth wrapped around my cock instead of his. The tension builds in my chest until I can barely breathe.


    His head falls back, a strangled noise escaping his throat. His hands, which had been white-knuckled on the armrests, suddenly shoot up to grab her head.


    Lyre jerks back instantly, his dick sliding out of her mouth as she snaps, "Don’t touch me."


    Thom gasps, face flushed, hands iling back to the armrests. "S-sorry! I wasn’t thinking—"


    I don’t change my expression, just cross my arms over my chest. But inside, satisfaction mingles with the rage. She doesn’t want his hands on her. Good.


    She returns to her task. Thom’s chest heaves, his face bright red. His hands twitch and spasm on the armrests as he fights to keep them still.


    Lyre cups his balls, and my own cock jerks in response. I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my life, watching her work. Every muscle in my body strains with the effort of standing still, of not charging across the room.


    Thom’s breathing grows ragged. His legs tremble. He’s close.


    "I’m—I can’t—" he chokes out.


    Lyre doesn’t speed up, doesn’t slow down. Just maintains her rhythm until his hips jerk and hees with a strangled cry.


    She pulls back immediately, her expression twisting with disgust. She doesn’t swallow.


    Without thinking, I push off from the wall, pulling my shirt over my head in one smooth motion. I hold it out to her, silent. She meets my eyes and spits into the fabric without hesitation. The intimacy of the moment cuts through my rage.


    I step closer, gently wiping her lips with a clean corner of my shirt. Her lips curl into a small smile, and my heart stutters.


    Fuck.


    She’s got me wrapped around her gorgeous little finger, and I’m delirious to be here.


    I drop the shirt to the floor between us. Neither of us speaks.


    Thom sits dazed in the chair, struggling to fasten his pants with fingers that don’t seem to work right. Magic crackles around him—visible even to my non-spellblood eyes—a hazy glow illuminating his skin. He smells a little like... potato chips.


    "Get some rest," Lyre tells him, not bothering to look his way. "Tomorrow’s going to be busy."


    He staggers to his feet, flushed and unsteady. "Th-thank you," he stammers.


    Now she does look at him, expression t. "It’s just a transfusion, Thom. Nothing to thank me for."


    "Still..." A small, dazed smile appears on his face. "I liked it."


    A growl rips from my throat.


    Thom jumps, eyes wide with terror, and fumbles for the doorknob. The door ms behind him.


    The second we’re alone, I snap. Crossing the room in two strides, I grab Lyre and push her against the door. Her back hits the wood with a soft thud.


    "I’m done with your games," I growl, face inches from hers.


    She raises one eyebrow,pletely unfazed by my disy of dominance. "Is this the part where I pretend not to be in control?"


    My anger splutters, my hands spasming around her shoulders.


    My cock doesn’t mind. It twitches just by having her heat close to us once again.


    I groan, dropping my forehead against hers. "Why do you always have to destroy the moment?"


    She slides one hand up my bare chest, her touch like fire against my skin. "Ooh, yes, big bad alpha," she drawls, "I’m so afraid. Whatever are you going to do with me?"