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Witchcraft
Helio’s POV Fresh snow and vanilla. The faint scent that I always knew was hers filled my senses, and the taste of her mouth, the way she yielded—melted—seemed to bank the fire that had been burning in me all this time. Goddess, if I could just have this for a bit longer. Nothing had ever felt so right. She’s my cousin. Cindra pressed into me, opening her mouth further, lifting up to give me more of what she wanted. What I wanted. The hunger burned in me like a blazing fire. Yet, as the thought registered, I pulled back, shocked, shaken, and panicked. She’s my cousin. Worthless, useless, the bane of the Azer name, and my cousin. Not some village girl I wanted for entertainment, not even the royal who was to be my wife—my cousin. What the hell had I done? What the f**k was the matt
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