Spellbound by Destiny: A Witch's Portal

What Game Is She Is Playing?

He stomped down the long corridor of his castle, swearing under his breath. Every morning, he checked on his reluctant betrothed. She resisted the idea from the beginning, and he couldn’t lie to himself—he wasn’t thrilled about it either.

Rory, the notorious b***h, and very real witch she became over the years, scared many. Sebastian didn’t fear her, but her hunger for power made her dangerous.

The daughter of a powerful king from a neighboring faction with whom they fought for territory made this contract necessary. Their union should bring peace, uniting their people, or so King Sebastian hoped.

The little minx was a walking contradiction. She rebelled against the union her father had imposed upon her, often causing friction and sometimes violent outbursts. Despite her disdain for being his wife, he thwarted her seductions as repulsion filled his veins.

She was beautiful—no, gorgeous. But when he looked into her eyes, he discerned only a desire for power, primal pleasure, and something dark and sinister.

He often second-guessed this arrangement; however, his people came first. He was willing to sacrifice the hope of finding his fated soulmate to protect his people and fulfill his kingly duties.

Another issue he had to deal with was that she led her own Coven, and he knew that would never change. He should have been more concerned, but he wasn’t. She had never demonstrated much power—nothing significant had ever been revealed.

He had done his research, and aside from some minor glamour spells, nothing high-level came to light. He planned to bind her as soon as they were wed, without her knowledge, of course. He couldn’t risk his kingdom over a tantrum.

He stopped outside her door and lowered his head with a groan before knocking with force. That conveyed annoyance somehow. After three more attempts, he turned the handle, but it didn’t budge.

“f*****g woman! Open the damn door, Rory!” His deep voice vibrated the thick wooden door, rattling it against the door frame. No response.

“Last warning! You have 10 seconds to open this door, or I will kick it in!” He growled, demanding an answer, yet silence persisted.

“Have it your way!” he shouted, walking back to the wall to get a running start. He planned to throw his shoulder into the door. Just before he shoved off the wall, his best friend Tristan approached.

“Stop! For f**k’s sake. I have a key, Your Majesty,” he said, breathless from running. He came running when he heard Sebastian yelling. Tristan only used his formal title when others heard him addressing Sebastian out of respect for his king.

The king relaxed his posture, swiped the key from Tristan, jammed it into the lock, twisted it open, and pushed the door with all his strength, slamming it against the wall.

He might not have had the pleasure of breaking it from its hinges, but determined to make an entrance displaying his current mood, tossing it open would have to suffice.

As expected, her bedroom sat empty, with her nowhere in sight. Still, he searched her closets and bathroom. His patience had reached its limit. He planned to lock her in her room when he found her again. He was done with this.

Although not ideal and somewhat medieval, they had no options. Both factions would secure what they needed for protection. She selfishly risked everything; worse, she had agreed to this, making the constant battle infuriating.

The dresser crashed to the floor as he threw a tantrum. His breathing, ragged, with hot puffs of air expelling from his lungs, began to calm down.

He realized this outburst wouldn’t help him find his fiancée, so he focused on searching her room for any clues indicating where she had gone.

Sebastian wasn’t sure when she had left—was it last night or this morning? How much of a head start did the witch have? He planted a tracker on her disguised as a gift, and she was unaware of it.

The tracker would show no results each time she went missing. However, she would mysteriously reappear in the castle soon after. When she did come back, the tracker would successfully indicate her location within the castle. He couldn’t understand the apparent glitches.

He halted as his second-in-command, Tristan—who also led his warriors—entered the room cautiously, the loud crashing and breaking of glass now silenced. They decided to try it and see if the tracker would work this time.

He gifted her a necklace adorned with a ruby stone and his family sigil, but hidden within it was a tiny tracker.

He should have been able to locate his would-be bride if she wore it, but so far, he had no luck. However, this time, the red beeping light indicated her exact location, and it was not far away. His jaw dropped in surprise.

Though the device was specifically designed for this purpose, he couldn’t help but the shock that coursed through him. It worked! A faint unease gnawed at the back of his mind, but he dismissed it as irritation surged within him, thinking about getting his hands around Rory’s neck.

Sebastian became smug as they arrived at the wooded area where Tristan claimed to have seen a flash of her running. He followed the locator on his phone.

As he got closer, he detected a strange scent—was that her? That isn’t right. However, he caught a glimpse of black fabric fluttering behind a tree, momentarily lifted by the wind.

Tristan called out, causing Sebastian to turn on his heel and press his forefinger to his lips, signaling silence.

He pointed to the nearby tree, and Tristan nodded in understanding. To help their trapped prey and make Rory feel at ease, he took a few steps backward to create the illusion of departure.

The plan worked flawlessly. She turned right into him and fell backward at the shock, but he grabbed hold of her. It was the first time he drank in the intoxication of her; he had never scented the vanilla and strawberries from her previously.

Her eyes, a hazel brown, primarily golden with dark brown circles outlining the bright color, sparkled more than usual.

Had she fallen out here? She had forest debris in her hair. Or was she involved with some man out here, and that was how she ended up in this state? A hidden lover?

Whether she wanted to be a wife or not, he did not tolerate infidelity. He didn’t want to be intimate with her, but he was loyal and would fulfill his duties as a husband, respecting their vows.

The idea of her being out here, rolling around in the woods, was surprising. However, he reassessed the situation; she was clothed. So what had happened to her out here?

She wasn’t athletic and relied on her magic or servants. She must have worn herself out in those ridiculous heels she insisted on wearing. But now that he thought about it, as he grasped her arms, more toned, firm muscle flexed under his fingertips.

He searched her eyes for an explanation, but she remained silent, gaping at him as she took in his face and physical form. He followed her gaze; she blushed when their eyes met. He was surprised as she scanned his chest, arms, and face with her eyes as if she had never laid eyes on him.

However, instead of being bold about it like she had been in the past, she appeared embarrassed and shy. This was something new; Rory had never shown any shyness regarding s*x or related topics, and she had never blushed before.

It’s also strange. Rory made no secret about not wanting to marry him, but she was clear that she had no problem f*****g him if he wanted.

He wondered if she would f**k him without his consent, but luckily for him, her magic didn’t work on him—or at least, that was what he thought. Now, her power affected his body’s physical reaction to her. It was the only explanation.

Honestly, he didn’t want to touch her until now for some insane reason. Her chest rose and fell harshly, and she stared at his lips. Her pupils dilated, and he couldn’t stop himself.

He slammed his mouth over hers, and she responded, their lips melding together in a heated kiss.

Rage erupted within him after he kissed her. This had to be her magic—another trick. Dragging her back, he was furious, while Tristan, the commander of his warriors, smirked.

However, he changed his expression to one that was stoic and emotionless. She must have made eye contact with him, and he would never have allowed Sebastian, his king, to appear weak, especially in front of her.

Another twist came when she pulled away from him. As she ranted and raved about not being Lorelei, her attitude had the opposite effect, reminding him of the woman she insisted she wasn’t.

To his dismay, his body still longed for her, evident from the stirring in his pants, while she jutted out that cute chin, refusing to comply.

At least his confidence was no longer shaken regarding her identity; his reaction to her remained unsettled.

‘Did I just think she was cute?’ he wondered.

Once again, he became convinced that she had conjured a spell to awaken a desire spreading throughout his body. She didn’t know him well enough to realize that his resolve was strong and that, most of the time, he controlled his urges with ease.

The kicking and screaming had finally pushed his patience to its limit, so he signaled Tristan to administer the shot. To silence her, he decided that drugging her might be necessary if she began using her magic.

He wondered why she was kicking and screaming instead of using her powers. What is she planning?

For some reason, her magic did not affect him, yet a hex on Tristan to see odd things and render him useless to me, but she chose not to cast such a spell. What game is she playing?

Instead, she fought as if she lacked any special abilities. Things changed overnight. Her magic affected him, but not as strongly as Rory had likely anticipated. At least, that is what he told himself.

He recognized it for what it was and struggled to resist its influence. However, she let an opportunity for freedom slip through her fingers by putting up a weak fight.

Each faction, such as magic, vampires, or werewolves, possessed a unique ability. However, their strength defined Sebastian’s faction, boasting three times the power of a typical man of their size. Therefore, lifting her onto his shoulder was effortless for him.

He placed her in the back of the car, climbed in beside her, and told Tristan to return to the mansion.

He rested her head on his leg because there was no other way to do this in the bench seat, but he watched her curiously as something nagged at him.

His c**k twitched in his pants when her shirt had become cockeyed, threatening to expose a n****e.

Jesus, she wasn’t wearing a bra? Not really a surprise. How could I not think this was Rory, dressing so scantily?

He fixed it by pulling the top back over, but he only made himself harder when the movement of silk on her breasts hardened the n*****s in reaction.

“s**t! Even in her sleep, she is a devil woman!” he whispered in frustration. He didn’t need to whisper, but he didn’t want Tristan to know how she impacted him.

He groaned and turned his gaze away. Frustrated with the spell that she would undo as soon as she woke up, he contemplated dropping her on the floor.

Not only did he want to do that, but he also placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip, ready to push her off when Tristan cleared his throat. Sebastian glanced up at the rearview mirror, and the look of disapproval covered his best friend’s face.

Sebastion raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, but his expression no sooner became a scowl.

“Fine,” he whispered, almost yelling.“It’s the least I could do for her.”He sulked as he gazed out the window, trying to avoid looking at the beautiful woman who was suddenly pulling him in with intrigue and desire.