Page 6

My muscles burn as I complete the final set. Ryan, who has already tapped out, sits on the bench opposite, waiting for me to finish. I know he wants to talk to me, but that’s the last thing I’m going to do. Nothing he can say is going to help my mood right now.

I’ve been avoiding talking about anything to do with Emily, my mood, or how I punched Garret in the face the moment I had him alone.

Garret’s always been a sucker for a pretty face; he’s also a terrible flirt who would never actually mean to piss off his alpha.

But the fact is, he did piss off his alpha, and I think I may well have exploded if I didn’t punch him.

I did what I had to do; he apologized for the disrespect, and I just want to move on.

I like Garret, and I sure as hell don’t want to be fighting over that witch.

Except that’s exactly what I did, and the whole damn thing is pissing me off.

I’ve had a headache for days about it, and I know Ryan, as my second in command, is working up to dealing with it. But I really wish he wouldn’t. My wolf feels primed and ready to take on anyone who even so much as breathes Emily’s name near me.

It’s bad enough that I am living and breathing her intoxicating scent at home, having to avoid the whole building for anything other than sleep. I don’t need anyone else’s input on it.

What am I supposed to do? Admit that she bewitched me years ago and that I seem to still be under her influence? An alpha could never admit something like that.

I’ve already had Callum and Ava in my ear about how sweet and kind Emily is, suggesting I give the union a chance. I literally don’t know what to even say to them; they seem blind to the threat witches pose, as if Malik and the rogues weren’t enough to deal with.

Hating her would be so much easier if I didn’t feel so drawn to her.

It’s not just her beauty, though it’s hard to miss her incredible green eyes, or the way her unique red hair falls down her back in soft curls that make my hands itch to run my hands through it, or how her smile melts everyone around her.

It’s also her natural warmth, her laughter when I overhear her on the phone with Ava, and how she draws everyone to her without seeming to realize it.

More bewitching on her part, possibly, though I’ve never heard of a witch being able to bewitch multiple people, so I assume this is just her. And that makes it even worse.

Despite her ability to bond so well with others, the only surprise has been how disconnected she is from her coven.

I half expected my home to be overrun with witches, and I was already thinking of ways to minimize any intrusions into my life.

And yet, although I see they value Emily as a conduit for negotiation, there are no close friendships, coven meetings, or spells in my house.

I’m not there much, but my wolf would know.

I find it infuriatingly difficult to know what is real where Emily is concerned.

The other day, with her pinned against the wall, I looked into her eyes, and it was like our connection was the purest thing on earth.

It took me right back to that night in the forest when I’d never felt so aligned with my wolf, so sure of everything.

To find out she was just a witch playing games…rage bubbles from my core again just thinking about it, and I slam the weights down, sitting up to grab my towel.

Sensing Ryan’s eyes on me again, I turn to him and growl, “Say whatever you’re going to say, or stop staring at me.”

His eyes widen, but to his credit, he doesn’t flinch. “Well, I was going to ask if you’re feeling better, but I guess we both know the answer.”

I level him with a stare, debating what to say when I can’t even articulate it to myself properly, but he continues before I can say anything. “Is this about the rogues, Malik, or that girl that’s got you in knots? Not your brothers, all seems well there, I—”

I scoff before cutting him off, “She doesn’t have me in knots.”

Ryan chuckles. “Garret’s sore head would beg to differ. And I’m sure that alpha, Nolan, would have a different impression, too.”

“Matters of principle,” I shrug, knowing I’m lying.

“Whatever, big guy,” Ryan replies. “Principles matter, but I’m sure Emily would be less inclined to go looking for attention elsewhere if you weren’t running around the forest day and night or slogging it out in this smelly gym instead of getting to know your mate.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him, standing.

He sighs. “So, try me. What’s going on?” Ryan asks. “You’re like a bear with a sore head; she’s hot, and everyone likes her. Why won’t you give the union a chance? You stepped up for it.”

I run a hand through my damp hair in exasperation. I don’t want to have this conversation; I don’t want to admit how hard my wolf is riding me to take her and the effort it’s taking to keep away. I don’t want to admit that she has a hold over me.

“She’s a witch, Ryan,” I say simply. “I don’t trust witches. I stepped up so no one else would have to deal with her—end of. Let’s just focus on Malik. The union has stopped the witches from going on strike, so let’s not waste precious time. I’m sure they’ll let us down eventually.”

Ryan lets out a low whistle. “You really don’t like them witches, do you?” he says. “Any reason for that?”

“Old Ralph may have been a mean bastard, but I’m yet to see he was wrong about the witches,” I tell him. “I’ve seen it for myself.”

“Care to elaborate?” Ryan asks, interest dancing behind his eyes.

“No. I do not,” I say, walking away to hit the showers and wash away all thoughts of Emily—a damn cold shower.

Staying out late has become the norm. Emily appears to be something of a night owl, so I have to keep pushing it later and later to avoid bumping into her.

I do back-to-back patrols with two different groups, and I’m finally feeling tired as I open the door quietly; the irony of sneaking into my own house to avoid a beautiful woman isn’t lost on me.

My entire home smells of her; it’s everywhere.

It’s in the very fabric of the walls, inescapable.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the way my wolf reacts to her scent.

My wolf thinks she’s ours, but he’s wrong.

He can’t tell the difference between her magic and a genuine bond.

I move through the house silently, heading for the kitchen. Everything appears quiet until my sensitive hearing picks up the sound of doors closing and Emily’s hushed voice.

“No, it’s okay, I’m coming,” she whispers, followed by, “he’s not back yet. I’ll head up the trail and meet you there.”

Who the fuck is she meeting at this hour? My wolf is instantly on alert, seething as I consider Ryan’s warning. She may be less inclined to look for attention elsewhere. Is she sneaking out to be with someone else? The thought is immediate, and so is the rage that follows.

Her senses are clearly less than any shifter’s, as I only have to hide in the shadows to disguise myself as she slips from the house.

She’s obviously so used to me not being here that she barely even checks her surroundings.

I fire off a quick text to the late patrol to track my signal and then allow her the illusion of a moment’s headstart before following her, staying in the shadows and tracking her movements down the street to the head of a trail leading into the forest.

With a sigh, I push my anger down and focus on tracking her. I know this forest like the back of my hand, and her scent is clear enough that I follow it easily. My heart races as I watch her disappear into the darkness, knowing full well what could be waiting for her out there.

The full moon paints everything in a silver glow, glinting off the dew that clings to every leaf and blade of grass.

She looks stunning in the moonlight, her pale skin seeming to glow from within.

Her alluring scent seems even stronger out here in the open air, and the urge to claim her overwhelms me.

I have to fight it back, moving into the tree line and following her from afar.

She disappears around a bend in the trail, and I hesitate only for a moment before continuing. My senses are heightened; I can hear the soft rustle of leaves as she moves, smell her fear even from yards away, and taste the adrenaline in the air as my wolf growls low in my throat.

As I turn the corner, I see her standing completely still, listening.

Her body is tense, with her shoulders back and hands clenched into fists at her sides.

She’s alone and so vulnerable out on this trail.

It’s like she learned nothing from being attacked years ago.

I’ve seen her train, and she’d be no match against the rogues.

I hear it long before she does, thanks to my shifter sense—the sound of footsteps approaching.

And then my nose detects who she’s out here meeting before they even come into view.

A witch—an injured girl limps toward her, and Emily instantly relaxes.

The witch is shaking with fear, but doesn’t run when she sees Emily.

They don’t appear to know each other, and the witch hangs back slightly, conversing in hushed whispers, their voices barely audible in the night air.

I listen intently, my hackles rising even more at the mention of Malik and his rogues.

I stay hidden, watching as Emily seemingly reassures the young witch, helping her to lean against a tree for support.

She appears to be trying to talk her into coming back to town, but the girl is resisting for some reason.

Behind me on the trail, I hear the sound of the late patrol approaching the area.

The young witch appears to hear something, too, and stands, ready to try and run despite her injuries.

It occurs to me that Emily may follow her deeper into the forest, which I can’t have.

The drive to protect her—or control her—feels almost overwhelming.

Decision made, I step out of the shadows. “Emily,” I say, my voice low and threatening, “what the hell is going on?”

The patrol howls in the distance, and the young witch panics, lunging away from Emily and into the trees at a surprising pace, considering her injuries.

“Wait,” Emily cries, turning to follow.

Without hesitation, I summon the power of the wind, focusing on Emily as it gathers power and pushes her back toward me.

I grab hold of her, crushing her to my body just as the patrol breaks through the trees.

I turn to the night watch leader, McCabe, gesturing in the direction the witch fled.

“Track a young witch that way. She’s injured, but watch yourself with her magic; she’s scared and might retaliate. ”

Emily huffs as she struggles in my arms, “ She’s not going to retaliate; she’s just frightened. Don’t you dare hurt her.”

The patrol ignores her and goes after the girl. I ignore her, too, until they’ve gone, and then I spin her around as if she weighs nothing and pin her against the nearest tree to stop her from struggling.

“What the hell were you thinking coming out here? Alone?” I growl, my anger barely contained. “You could have been killed out here.”

She gasps, her chest heaving as she stares up at me in shock.

“I had to help her,” she whispers. “She’s a rogue, but far too young to be alone.

My coven gave her my number weeks ago when she wouldn’t go with them; this is the first time she called.

I was trying to bring her in before Malik got his hands on her. ”

I shake my head at her naivety. The disconnect between us is clear. She seems to have no idea of the danger she’s in. “You can’t do this again,” I tell her firmly. “It could have all been a trap. Did you think of that?”

She looks away. “I couldn’t just leave her out here injured,” she says quietly.

“Why didn’t you call me or the patrol?” I demand, my voice harsher than I intend.

She looks back at me, her face hardening. “I don’t trust them,” she says simply.

The implication is clear: she doesn’t trust me, either. The feeling is mutual. But as I look down at her, still holding her firmly by the shoulder, I notice the warmth beneath my hand where we’re touching, seeping into my bones, our bond flourishing under my touch.

It’s intoxicating, and it scares me.

Her eyes flicker to my lips, and I can feel the magnetic pull between us. The tension crackles in the air as our gazes lock, and I want nothing more than to kiss her senseless right here and now. Her breaths are coming fast and hard, and I don’t think she’d stop me.

“Why do you make me feel this way?” I whisper into the darkness.

She looks up at me, her bright green eyes defiant but questioning. “I was just wondering the same thing,” she replies quietly.

The moment drags on in an agonizing haze as my wolf demands control, my grip on her tightening. Suddenly, the patrol appears from the dark, carrying the injured witch, who appears almost unconscious. Emily ducks under my arm, rushing toward them. “What did you do to her?” she demands.

McCabe sighs before muttering, “Nothing, I don’t hurt little girls. Or little witches. She fell, running like a fool down a ravine. Lucky she’s not dead.”

Emily’s angry features soften into something closer to concern. “Right, okay. Sorry.”

McCabe nods, looking over at me. “We’ll take her back to the clinic and get Doc to check her over.”

I nod as the patrol starts walking ahead, and then turn back to Emily. “House. Now,” I demand. “And don’t ever do this again, or so help me, goddess, I’ll have you confined to your room.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she says quietly, and walks ahead of me in complete silence all the way down the trail.

I follow her, desperately trying to ignore the gentle sway of her hips or the way her defiance sent a jolt of lightning straight to my cock. I find myself considering more and more what it would feel like to just give in to her bewitching—it can’t feel worse than the torture of denying it.