Yennefer was angry, more than angry. She felt betrayed and usurped. A woman that Geralt had hardly known for more than a couple of months had replaced the mage in his heart. Yennefer's lips still burnt from their kiss is not the normal pleasant way, the way that used to send shivers of pleasure down her spine and spread warmth around her core. Instead only bitter filled her, his lips felt cold and dead against hers, unmoving and unresponsive to her. Violet eyes stared down at the book in her hands, cracked open to the well-read passage on Witcher's Mate, angry tears well up in the corner of her eyes. Igniting the book in her hands, she watched in glee as the pristine book turned to ashes before her very eyes, as the fine aches trickled onto the marble floor. Glancing across the table she snatched up the burgundy book and marched around the table intent on throwing the book into the roaring fire, the meagre book not worth the small amount of magic to incinerate it when her eye caught a glimpse of a page. The squiggled writing was not what she expected to see, she knew exactly what the writing was, but it was the drawing itself halted her breath in her chest. Eyes darted around, Geralt paced from one side of the fire to the other for the best part of an hour, Triss trying to pacify the tetchy man who growled and fidgeted as he cast a longingly look to the stairs. Yennefer knew Geralt; she could tell he was using his Witcher senses to hone on the girl, to listen to her. Neither of them was paying any attention to her, and Ciri had wondered off with Jaskier to tend to the creature. Slowly, she slid the book into the folds of her dress; her need was greater than some man stealing slip of a girl.

'Geralt it will be fine just let her have a moment.' Triss tried pushing herself in front of the mass of muscles as the white-haired man stalked toward the stairs.

'She is injured; she needs me.' Geralt panted, eyes wild as he zoned in on the stairwell.

Triss tried to hold his eyes that were almost completely black with a thin circle of gold surrounding them. 'She will be fine, Ciri and Jaskier are with her. I will go check on her, but I need to know you're not going to do something stupid like burst in and go all possessive on her.' Triss bite out eyeing the other mage who rolled her eyes as she talked.

'Hmmmmm'

'Don't worry, Triss; I am sure she will enjoy being dragged away. Sluts like her usually do.' Yennefer growled, brushing her hair over her shoulder, wafting the scent of lilac and gooseberries into the air, she watched eagerly as Geralt nose twitched. Her face fell when his features twisted in disgust, his eyes never leaving the stairwell.

'Look who's talking….' Triss snapped sending a death glare at her friend, who only responded in a sneer.

Triss turned back, wearily watched as Geralt agonised where he stood, he looked longingly at the stairwell. His healthy glow from this morning was all but distinguished, and the sullen pallor replaced it. Triss followed her hands to where they laid against his chest, the skin underneath them, even though shield by a thick tunic top, was on fire. Frowning, she looked to the ashes that danced on the polished floor, where the book had been destroyed not half a minute ago—bloody Yennefer.

A thin sheer had broken out against his forehead, and his body shook in mild tremors. A wave of nausea washed over him, forcing Geralt to sink onto one of the benches and the purple-eyed mage watched closely. Violet iris roamed over his worn face as he began to shake violently. The bronze hulk seemed to shrink before her very eyes, become a wreak who shivered the warm summer air like a sickly new-born babe.

'Did you really have to burn the book? Without that, we have no idea what to do now?' Triss growled as she summoned a cooling flannel to his forehead.

Yennefer took a step closer as observed the scene before her. It was the first chance she had to really look at her former beau. Geralt was still the magnificent figure of manhood, tall and broad, tone bronze muscle peeking out from underneath his tunic and naked forearms. But the lustre had gone from his skin; the glowing skin was now dull and pasty. His cheeks seemed hollow and grey circle lightly graced beneath his eyes that burnt like molten lava, given him a frantic feral look. The Witcher's frame hummed with an energy that she had never felt before, both primitive and powerful, the type you caught a glimpse at in the ancient ruins long forgotten by man.

'What wrong? He's burning up.' Yennefer damned as she reached out, pressing her palm to his cheek. Hurt rocked her heart as he recoiled, snapping his head away.

'Geralt…did you started the claiming last night? Did you tell her' Triss whispered softly, pressing her fingertips to his throat, as the pulse speeded quicker and quicker.

Geralt shook his head and simply grunted batting her hand away.

'You didn't tell about her! Geralt for someone so old you are such a fucking idiot. No wonder she ran off. Gods I need to…' Triss tittered on her feet, glancing between the two.

'Yennefer come here' Triss scowled and pushed the mage into the workshop off the room.

'I know you are beyond pissed off. But for 5 minutes you need can you please stop. If you want to be pissed at someone be pissed at me. I elaborated a whole scheme to push them together. You should have fucking seen him all noble and broody trying to do the right thing and not bond with her, even though it was killing him. And Adva…. the poor girl don't get me started on what a number Cersi did to her. And I thought the mind fuck Tissaia did on you was bad. Yen, if you had seen what not completing the bond was doing to Geralt, you would have done that same. You need to bring down his temperature, or he will go into shock. I tried Exismo, but he seems to build up an immunity, and with this Witcher's ability, I am not sure what else to give him. I know you are hurt, and I understand, but they have a soul bond so powerful in cancelled out the Jinns magic Please just stop trying to kill everyone for five minutes. I swear if you do anything else to mess this up, then you already have I will never talk to you again.'

Yennefer felt a deep pang of something in her; her best friend seemed determined on the pairing that she had cast her aside. For the doorway, she observed Geralt, a sweaty hunched figure, pushing out a puff of air. Her hand traced the outline of the book she had hidden in her dress. Not for one second did she trust the girl, but she was intrigued. If this were a soul bond, the energy it would create would be phenomenal, as documentation on it was rare, to say the least. It could be useful, and she had nothing better to do but sit back and let the plan of the little creature unfold.

Picking up a large bowl and armful of herbs she swayed over to the polished mahogany table. Pulling the tops of pots with a snap, she deposited as dash, a handful and a sprinkle into the bowl. The bright petals and herbs mixed to do a dry mulch. Adding elven wine to the mixture, she mixed till the concoction was a watery mess of mashed up leaves. Waving a caramel hand over the mortar, concentrating as the liquid simmered and boiled, concentrating as the mixture bubbled into a tar-like gum.

Swaying over she sat beside him, not close enough that they touched, but close enough she could feel the unspent energy spill from him, it was unbearably, the heat prinked her skin till it began to sweat itself. Shimmering back, she winced, a piteous look cast against her old lover.

'Why didn't you come to me with this.' Yennefer's tone softened, as she wiped the thick substance into his skin in the signs of runes.

'I think you have just proved why Yen. Besides last time we spoke, you screamed that you never wanted to see me again.' Geralt scoffed, a sheen of sweat began to form at the top of his forehead down the base of his throat and disappearing down below his tunic neckline.

Purple eyes are taking movement ever as the heavy mixture turned a pale blue as it fought against the heat. Yennefer smiled as the sweat began to stop and dry against his features. Carefully she did the same with his collar bones and then his forearms. Not before long, every inch of exposed skin was covered in blue runes. Still, it took 20 or 30 minutes for the Witcher's temperature to return to normal, but Yennefer looked on in concern as the Witcher grunted and gruffed in pain.

'I felt our spell bond break…I thought you had finally found a Jinn to remove the spell; then I started hearing tales about the Witcher's Wife.' Yennefer glowered quickly, moving to grip his face to turn him completely to her.

'I am sorry.'

'Is sorry all you have to say.' Yennefer choked out; tears welled up in her eyes. 'Is that all that I meant to you?'

'Yen…I didn't mean for this. I did not believe it at first but…. I don't want to fight it anymore. Please.' Geralt rasped out weakly, reaching out his hand to grasp hers. Purple and gold eyes met, and the purple erupted in a blaze of pain. Yennefer glared at his hand, wavering from tears to rage, fat tears lined her eyes as she stared at his hand. Gripping his hand with both of hers, she traced the rough callous and scars that littered his hands, scabbed over from years of bare-knuckled fights and brawls. Tracing every line in his palm, she had spent years looking at him, but this was the first time she had ever really look at him and his hands. He had touched her thousands of times, but now she was touching him, it felt different, he felt different. Casting his hand away, she stood and stormed to the window, back turned as she blinked away the tears. She waited and waited, but he didn't come to comfort or soothe her as he always did. In the reflection of the window, she watched as gazed longingly at the stairs.

So when I finished this chapter, it was 5000 words long- to spare you a headache, so I broke it into two parts.

What do you think? Part two coming soon!