Page 11

Stepping out of the shower, I can barely see two steps in front of me due to the steam that has enveloped me.

I grab one of Tristen’s enormous towels and wrap myself in the fluffy warmth, enjoying the underfloor heating.

Wiping the mirror, I can just about make out my reflection.

The flush in my cheeks has only been emphasized by the heat of the shower, but it’s the sparkle in my eyes that’s undeniable.

Ever since that first night over a month ago, Tristen has made love to me every day. Including this morning. I never knew desire could feel so all-consuming, or addictive. It has been like a dam breaking; our pent-up passion is now channeled into our every encounter.

The moment he walks in the door, the way our eyes meet during pack meetings, in his office, in his truck…we are insatiable.

It’s thrilling in a way I never fully understood or thought possible.

And I sense a change in him; he’s tender with me when we’re together.

Thoughtful and caring as he wrings pleasure from my body day after day.

But beyond those encounters, the wall remains resolute.

Sure, there are cracks in his previously cold exterior, and the way his scent clings to me must signal to any shifter that our relationship has changed, but you wouldn’t necessarily know it if you watched us from a distance.

I know he’s drawn to me physically; that much is obvious. But he’s still happy to run from me, as demonstrated this morning, because he’d already left before I even got in the shower. It’s as though he doesn’t want to burst the bubble we find ourselves in by actually addressing what we’re doing.

Deep down, I know this can’t last. It’s only a matter of time before he pushes me away again.

He has done nothing to make me think his overall opinion about witches has changed.

In fact, his frustrations over how we’re working together only continue to grow.

But I’ve also started to see a different side of him, a side I instinctively knew existed that night in the forest. I feel as drawn to him as ever, and I find myself unable to stay away. He makes me feel connected and alive.

But I have no idea how he feels about me.

I take a deep breath and head back to my room to find some clothes.

I’m living in a strange in-between at the moment—sleeping in Tristen’s room, but keeping my belongings separate.

I need to change before Ava and Sarah arrive.

Ava’s already texted me twice, asking if I’m okay.

She knows some of the details about the change in Tristen’s behavior from his brother Callum.

Plus, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to sense the tension between us.

Having never had close friends in my coven, I find it difficult to open up to others about what’s going on in my life.

Though if anyone could possibly understand, it’s probably Ava after everything she went through with Callum—being rejected and then finding their way back together.

I’m not sure I have it in me to lay bare the entire story, though.

Some things are best left alone, especially as Ava is Callum’s mate and Tristen’s sister-in-law.

After dressing quickly, I head toward the kitchen to put a fresh pot of coffee on before they arrive.

I check my messages; one from Ava says they’re just getting into town—nothing from Tristen.

I’m not sure why I even hoped there would be—we live separate lives during the day, only sinking into each other when the world isn’t watching.

Standing by the window, I breathe in the comforting smell of my fresh coffee as I watch Callum’s truck pull up outside to drop them off before joining the pack at the training ground.

Tristen’s brother immediately jumps out and runs around to help his very pregnant mate out of the truck as Sarah looks on, giggling.

It does look quite amusing, as Ava looks smaller than ever despite her very round belly.

Out of the blue, a wave of longing sweeps over me. That I could ever have what Ava has…a thought I brush off as quickly as it arrives, as the women wave goodbye to Callum and walk toward the door.

I plaster a smile on my face despite the turbulent emotions that threaten to bubble up, and I open the door to greet them. Ava spots me and waves, her face breaking out into a huge grin. Still holding my coffee, I walk out onto the porch to greet them.

“Hey, stranger,” she teases, enveloping me in a hug as soon as she’s within range. “It’s been forever.”

“I know,” I sigh into her shoulder. She pulls back slightly, and I don’t miss the way her wolf moves in her eyes, sensing something. I have a good idea what she’s identified—that Tristen’s scent is all over me.

“Okay, spill the beans, witchy,” she says, giggling as soon as we head inside. Sarah shuts the door behind us, her eyes alight with interest, too. “How is it going with you-know-who?”

I groan. “I should have known there was no hiding anything from you two,” I say as we walk toward the kitchen. “At least let me make some more coffee first. Decaf?”

Ava nods as Sarah comes around to help me. “Full strength for me,” she laughs. “I need it to cope with Callum’s fussing all the way here.”

“He wasn’t keen on you making the trip?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Ava sighs. “We both know I’m not going to be going very far once this baby arrives,” she says, stroking her swollen belly.

“I need to feel as though I’m contributing while I can.

We’ve brought the books from the mainland with old stories about power absorption and shape-shifting.

The only way to protect any of our children is to destroy Malik. ”

The look on my friend's face is fierce and resolute. Malik kidnapped her daughter, Harper, and tried to steal her powers. Children are especially vulnerable, and I can see the rage that emanates from her coming straight from her maternal soul. It’s a sight to behold.

“It’s a good thing you’re not on caffeine, too,” I joke, handing her a cup of decaf.

“She is on a mission,” Sarah confirms, pouring our drinks before lifting the heavy bag of books onto the kitchen island. “She’s not wrong, though. There’s a lot to get through here. I’m hoping you know more than we do about some of this.”

We all fall into silent agreement as we take a sip of our drinks, and I eye the books, itching to get started.

Just as I’m about to reach for a book, Ava interrupts, putting her cup down.

“As important as all of this is,” she begins, the mischief clear in her voice.

“You’re going to have to fill us in on what has changed, because Tristen’s scent is literally all over you. I mean, he’s been all over you.”

Sarah chuckles, “She’s got you. So, what changed? This did not look to be in the cards at all.”

I sigh, tapping the side of my cup as I debate what to tell them.

How much to give away, and whether talking about it would help at all.

“Okay, okay,” I concede, knowing there’s no point in denying it with their intense shifter senses.

“Things have…changed. But probably not as much as you might think.”

“So, are you or aren’t you?” Ava pushes, a mischievous but hopeful glint dancing in her eyes.

“We are,” I admit, tasting the coffee on my tongue. “But there’s still so much distance between us.”

"What do you mean?" Sarah asks, leaning in. "You're his luna, right? He must have chosen you because he likes you."

I roll my eyes. "In name only. I have no idea why he stepped up.” I pause before continuing, “We met a couple of years ago in the forest…we kissed. But he rejected anything else because I’m a witch. I have no idea why he made me his luna. Or what has changed, really.”

The words hang in the air as I watch their reactions. Ava's eyes widen, her mouth falls open slightly, and Sarah just looks confused.

"He what?!" Ava gasps, her hand going to her chest. "Why didn't you say anything? I don’t understand why he rejected you?"

I take a deep breath, reliving that moment of heartbreak all over again.

"He told me he couldn't be with a witch. He accused me of bewitching him, which would be amusing if it weren’t so tragic. He’s mentioned his father; I think he has a longstanding distrust of witches, and now he’s too stubborn to change his opinion. "

Ava snorts. "Typical wolf male," she mutters under her breath before turning to me. "And now?" she asks expectantly.

"Now," I say softly, looking down at my hands, “everything goes from being so perfect one moment to like strangers again the next. We just go back and forth, not getting anywhere. I’m not sure anyone else even knows.”

Ava and Sarah exchange knowing glances. " Oh, I can assure you every single shifter knows,” Ava says gently. “His wolf has imprinted on you big time.”

Sarah touches my arm. “He may not be saying the words, but his wolf has laid his claim.”

“At least one of them knows what they want,” I reply dryly.

Ava looks thoughtful for a moment before speaking as she begins to pull out the texts from the mainland.

“You know, I think Ralph did a real number on all of them. They didn’t have it easy,” she begins.

“I’m not making excuses for them, but I’ve seen it in Callum, and I know he sees it in his brothers, too.

But they’re good men, good alphas. I think they just need to break free of Ralph’s damage in their own ways. ”

I nod, knowing there’s truth in what she says. “I can’t ask him, though. I know I won’t get the answer I want, and I can’t be rejected again,” I say, tears welling in the corners of my eyes. “It’s all I’ve known, and I won’t purposelessly invite more in.”

Sarah pulls me toward her, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think, Em,” she says as Ava nods encouragingly. “Let his wolf do the talking; he’s clearly the one with all the brains.”

At that, we all laugh, and it physically eases my soul. “Okay, enough about me, let’s focus on something far more important,” I say, turning to the stack of books Ava has arranged on the kitchen island. “Let’s see if there’s anything helpful in here at all.”

We spend the next few hours pouring over the texts and making notes.

Most are simply dusty stories in books shoved to the back of the shelves in a library on the mainland, but at least two texts stand out, clearly written by witches rather than humans.

Although they are recorded as fiction, there are too many similarities with Malik’s actions to be a coincidence.

I’d half hoped to find something in here about why Malik said I was rare when he attacked the village.

I haven’t mentioned it to anyone else because it feels silly.

I am the least rare or special witch—unless you count not having any useful magic as rare, which I suppose it is.

But it’s certainly not anything Malik should have wanted.

Unfortunately, the books don’t mention anything I can attribute to my coven or me.

I’m still writing up our notes when Callum arrives to pick up Ava and Sarah. We say goodbye on the porch.

“I can’t believe the next time I see you, you’ll have a brand new pup,” I say, holding Ava tightly.

She laughs. “I really hope that’s true, because I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to tell Callum to drive over all the bumps on the way home.”

Sarah looks horrified. “You can’t go into labor on the road with me; I’m too squeamish. And Callum would have a meltdown.”

Ava grumbles but agrees and heads down the steps toward her mate, who greets her with a kiss that has us all blushing.

Tristen’s truck pulls in just after him, and he catches their passionate embrace, his eyes finding mine as everyone says goodbye.

A wave of desire sweeps over me, and I can’t help but feel like I’m on display.

As they drive away, Tristen climbs the steps toward me, his gaze never leaving mine.

“You look tired,” he says as we turn to walk back into the house. Every step reminds me that we’re alone now.

“We’ve been studying these texts,” I say, turning toward the kitchen island to show him. But when I look back, his gaze has darkened, and he backs me up against the cool, hard surface.

His lips crash down on mine, his mouth demanding and desperate despite the fact that he already had me this morning.

I surrender to him immediately, my body melting into his as the kiss deepens.

I feel his wolf’s hunger for me, but more than that, I feel his need.

And it scares me in the best possible way.

He lifts me onto the countertop, our kiss never breaking as he presses against me, one hand trailing down my back.

Even through my clothes, I can feel the heat between us burning hotter with each passing second.

His lips trail across my jawline and down my neck, nipping at the soft skin there before moving lower still.

“You know you’re mine,” he growls into my ear.

Do I?

But for once, I don’t even want to argue. I just want him.