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The Unwanted Bride Of Atticus Fawn Chapter 36
~AUTUMN~
Atticus.
Atticus.
Atticus.
I’m doing it. I’m repeating the spell. And somehow, it’s working. Somehow Atticus wants me. I can tell
by the way he moves that this isn’t him. He isn’t doing it out of his free will. And for some reason, I’m
not stopping it.
How did you even stop a spell that you weren’t even sure how you started to begin with? Mr. Samuel
never explained how to stop it. How could a teacher give a spell and not tell his students how to end it?
The worst part was that I didn’t want this to end. I wanted him to keep touching me. He was ripping my
clothes in half. And I didn’t mind one bit. I didn’t want him to stop.
I cry out when his hand grips my p***y through my pants. He’s rubbing me, easing the ache but making
it worse simultaneously. How was that possible? How could I feel both things at once?
“Is that where you want me to touch you?” He whispers against my ear before his tongue pulls my
earlobe into his mouth. “In your sweet p***y. Do you want me to touch it bare? Without any clothes on?
Would that make it better?”
I gasped at just the thought of his hands there without any barriers between them. I grip his shirt and
pull hard; that’s my answer without having to say the words. I want it. I want it so much.
He shoves a few cleaning products onto the floor from the table next to us and puts me on top of it. I
gasped when he spread my legs wide.
My eyes roll back into my head when he shoves his face between them so that his mouth is now
pressed against my aching wetness. I still have the pants on, and I hate them so much. I want it to be
gone. I want to be able to feel it more than this. His tongue takes a slow, long, brutal swipe, and I cry
out at the feelings that pulsed through me just by looking at how he did it.
I gasped as I remembered why he was even doing this in the first place. No matter how good this felt, I
couldn’t allow him to continue with this. I will never forgive myself if I let this continue.
I grab his face and push him backward. “Stop!” I shout.
And just like that, I can see the spell leaving his body. Just like that, it was all over.
Atticus stares at me with a look of confusion and horror. I don’t know if he understands yet that I’m the
reason he just lost control of his own body like that. But I know the truth even if he didn’t, and I’m now
terrified of myself.
I wasn’t a witch; I shouldn’t have been able to do something like this. So what the hell just happened?
His eyes travel down my body, focusing on my torn clothes, clothes he’d just ripped.
He runs a hand through his hair and turns around, no longer looking my way. He mutters a string of
curses; I think he’s blaming himself. I also insisted that he stop while he was in the middle of touching
me. He may feel that I didn’t like it. It was quite the opposite of that, but I couldn’t say anything because
that would mean that I had to explain why exactly I had stopped it, and I wasn’t ready to do that.
“I’ll get some clothes for you to change into.” He says suddenly. “Don’t go anywhere.”
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I don’t think it was possible to leave this room half-naked. I wasn’t going to try and escape if that’s what
he was worried about.
I lean against the wall when he leaves; I have plenty on my mind. I still wasn’t sure what exactly had
just happened. It may be a good idea to mention this to someone that may be able to provide me with
the answers I needed, but I was terrified that they would say that something was wrong with me. A
werewolf that knew how to perform spells? I’ve never been able to do anything like that in the past, so
what was happening to me?
Was it just the spell of seduction, or could I also cast other spells? There were a few spells that were
mentioned, but I’ve never paid plenty of attention to any of them.
And I was too scared to try anything at this exact moment. I was still in shock at what I’d just done to
Atticus. He only touched me like that because of a stupid spell. I never wanted him that way; I wanted
him to desire me without needing magic for it to work.
Atticus returns a few minutes later with a dress in his hand.
“I’ll wait for you outside.” He says as he exits and shuts the door behind him.
I remove what’s left of my clothes and throw the dress on over my head. I’m nervous when I walk out
the door. I’m not sure if anyone will notice the change of clothes. It would be easy for practically any
person to realize that this wasn’t the same thing I’d been wearing earlier today. That thought made my
cheeks feel hot with embarrassment.
What could I say if they asked what happened? An easy response would be that something spilled all
over my clothes, and I had to change into this.
I’m waiting for Atticus to ask me what happened in there or to explain, but he’s reticent. I’m not sure
what he’s thinking.
When we meet with Clarissa and Damon, things are still awkward between us, and I think they can see
straight through us.
“Did something happen to your clothes?” Clarissa asks. “I know this isn’t what you were wearing
earlier.”
I blushed, unable to stop, “I spilled some juice all over it.” I lie.
She looks at Atticus, and he’s as stiff as a board. I don’t think we’re doing an excellent job at selling this
story.
“Where did you get the dress?” She asks. “It’s beautiful.”
Atticus looks nervous at her question, making me wonder where he truly got the dress from so quickly.
It was my size and almost like it was made just for me.
“Where did you get the dress?” I repeat her question.
“I bought it for you.” He finally answers. “I just never got the chance to give it to you.”
Did he really buy this dress for me? It was short but not too short, and it wasn’t fitted either; it was
perfect for me.
How did he know that I would like this?
“Were you planning on giving it to her along with the hundreds of roses we saw delivered to the house
yesterday?” Clarissa asks.
Hundreds of roses? When were roses delivered to the house? Atticus glares at his sister, and she
covers her mouth after realizing I wasn’t aware of what she was speaking of.
My gaze shifts to Atticus as I wait for him to explain. I never got any roses, but Atticus and I did have a
fierce fight yesterday before he marked me and disappeared for the rest of the night. Was he planning
on giving me roses to ask for forgiveness after leaving my side to look after Anya? Would that have
changed anything?
It made me feel a little better but still not enough to stop the pain I felt every time I thought about him
leaving me to go to her. It felt like he’d chosen her again, even though we were now married.
I shook the thought out of my head. I promised myself to stop letting them hurt me. I promised myself to
be stronger. I wouldn’t let Atticus into my heart again until he proved that he wanted this marriage to
work. It didn’t matter that my heart would always only belong to him. I was done crying over him
because of Anya. I wouldn’t let her win; I wouldn’t let her continue to bring me down.
But that wasn’t my only problem anymore, I had other things to sort out, and that was to figure out how
on earth a werewolf has the power to cast spells.
And who could I trust to tell this secret to? The truth was that this was the first time it’s ever happened
to me, and maybe it’s possible that I was reading too much into nothing; the only way I can know for
sure is if it happened again.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to that game tonight.” Clarissa grins. “I can see us
having so much fun. Plus, I want to see if Tyler tries to win and take us to dinner.”
The truth was that it didn’t matter if Tyler played well; all of the attention and hope would be placed on
Carter. As long as he performed, the fearsome beasts would win the game. This would mean that Tyler
would expect us to go to dinner with him tonight; while I would want Atticus to think that I was going to
the dinner, I wouldn’t actually do something like that. I don’t believe Clarissa would, either. This was all
about teaching him a lesson, nothing else. I wasn’t actually interested in Tyler, but he didn’t have to
know that. It was better for him to think he wasn’t the only one with my full attention. I tried that before,
and it didn’t work in my favor; now, I was doing the opposite.
“Why are you suddenly interested in these games?” Damon demands from Clarissa.
“What’s wrong if I want to see the game, Damon?” She asks. “I’m just going to have some fun with
Autumn. We deserve a girl’s night out.”
I could also have Scarlett and Clara join us. That would make it even better.
“I’ll invite Scarlett and Clara.”
Atticus stiffens at the mention of them, “every time you hang out with those girls, everything goes
wrong.”
“That’s not true.” I deny. “I think it’s quite the opposite. Everything goes wrong whenever Anya is in the
picture, not those nice girls. They’re my friends. You will learn to like them because they’re here to
stay.”
He quirks a brow at me, but he doesn’t seem annoyed or angry. Instead, he looks impressed. What
was he so impressed about? I disagreed with him; didn’t he get that?
“You guys can attend the classes together without me,” Damon says suddenly. “Dante told me that
Anya wants to see me. I’ll be leaving now.”
Clarissa doesn’t hide her disappointment at his words.
“Keep an eye on Clarissa; make sure no one tries to bully her while I’m gone.” He warns Atticus before
leaving.
At least his last words, before walking away, managed to brighten her mood a little.
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Now we had to survive the rest of the classes together. Hopefully, it has nothing to do with spells or
witches.
. . . . . .
It’s time for the game. Luckily Clarissa had enough clothes for the both of us in her locker. That meant
that we didn’t have to go home to change; we were able to change in the bathroom.
I didn’t want to remove the dress Atticus gave to me, but I didn’t want him to think I was in love with it
either.
“Do you have to follow us everywhere?” I ask Atticus. He’s walking behind us like our bodyguard,
looking at everyone who came even a few feet too close. I think he was waiting for Tyler to show up.
He doesn’t answer me; he’s too preoccupied with scanning the area.
“Do you spot Scarlett?” Clarissa asks me.
Before I could respond, a random woman approached us out of nowhere; she was dressed in a long
white dress, and she didn’t look like she had come to be a part of the game.
“I can see your future so clearly.” She says to me before turning her attention to Atticus. “You as well.”
“I’m fine; I don’t need you to tell me about my future.” He cuts her off before she can say anything else.
Was she another one of those older witches that loved to tell someone about their future in return for
some money? What was she even doing here at a game like this?
I couldn’t understand how security would let her through the gates.
“You have two women in your life.” She continues, making me uncomfortable. “One of them you’re in
love with, and the other, you’re forced to have her in your life. Autumn and Anya. You know what order
they go in.”
I freeze. She did not just say that.
His jaw clenches, “is this some kind of joke?”
Anya joins us just then, with Damon and Dante on both sides of her. I try not to let her presence affect
me, but I can’t deny how unhappy it makes me now that she’s here. I expected her to drag on the
hospital trick for as long as she could; I didn’t think she would be out of there so quickly. I think it’s only
because Atticus didn’t go back to check on her; that’s the only reason she’s out of the hospital.
“They’re both here.” The woman notes, waving her hands. “If you had a choice to save one of these
women, who would it be?”
“Is that a f*****g threat?” Atticus growls as he steps towards her.
“Are they just letting anyone into these games now?” Damon demands as he looks around for security.
Though they didn’t need it, they could quickly get her out of here if they wanted to.
“No, son,” she says in an apologetic tone. “I’m not trying to be disrespectful. I think that this is a
question that you need to answer if you want to be able to move forward with your life. I can tell it’s
holding you back.”
I fold my arms and look directly into his eyes, “who would it be, Atticus? It’s a simple question. What’s
your answer?”
He’s silent as he scans my face, trying to figure out if I truly wanted to know the answer to her question.
I’m not sure what he saw, but he doesn’t even blink as he says, “you.”
It’s one word, but it makes my heart skip a beat. Did he really just say that? In front of both Anya and
me? Or was he only saying it because everyone was looking at us?
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