Page 18 of The Witch’s Shifter (Season of the Witch #3)

Slowly, I begin applying the poultice to the shallow cuts covering Faolan’s torso, being careful to avoid the deeper ones gouged into his neck, chest, and shoulder.

As my fingers brush along his skin, he takes a breath, and I’d think it from the pain if not for the shiver that rolls through his body.

“Does this hurt?” I whisper.

Jaw flexing, he shakes his head once. “No.”

On his knees, his fingers curl into fists.

My heart beats a bit faster as I continue applying the poultice. Once I’m done with the shallow cuts, I turn my focus to the deeper ones.

“I’m just going to bandage these. I want to keep them clean.”

The muscles in his jaw are still tight, his fists still clenched. I lean forward to grab a few cloth bandages from the table, then scoot my chair around so I can more easily access the injury wrapping around his shoulder.

“Lift your arm,” I say.

He does as I ask.

While wrapping the cloth around his upper arm and shoulder, I glance at his face. He’s looking away from me, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Now will you tell me how you got these?” My voice is small and gentle in the warm sunlit kitchen.

When I first asked, he told me he’d been in a fight, but he wouldn’t tell me with whom.

Faolan doesn’t reply at first, just stares toward the wall. I don’t push, instead focusing on gently wrapping the bandage around his shoulder.

“I got them in a fight,” he says after a long stretch of peaceful quiet,“with my brother.”

My fingers falter with the fabric. “You have a brother?”

“I have a few. But this fight was with my twin, Cathal.” He lets out a sigh as I finish with his shoulder bandage and turn my focus to the one on his chest. “He’s our alpha.” Faolan scoffs.

“Does this bother you?”

“Typically, it wouldn’t, but he’s got no business leading the pack. It should’ve been me.”

“And why isn’t it? Lift your arms again.”

Faolan does so, and I lean close, reaching around his back to wrap the bandage snug about his torso. Being this close to him, I detect a sylvan scent, one of damp earth and moss and leaves. He tenses up as my fingers brush his bare back, but I’m soon leaning away, finishing the wrap.

“Because I had no mate.” His blue eyes meet mine. “Until now.”

A tingle goes through me at the intensity in his gaze. “I don’t understand.”

“Only a mated pair can lead the pack. Cathal met his mate this summer, at one of our pack gatherings.”

Mated pairs? Pack gatherings? There’s still so much I don’t know about him and his life.

“Now that you’ve met me”—I avert my gaze, finding it easier to speak about such things without staring him in the eye—“can you challenge him for alpha?”

“Now that I’ve met you,” he says slowly, “I’ve no reason to care.”

Lifting the last bandage from the table, I roll it between my fingers, still not looking at him. “Why not?”

“BecauseI’m not going back.”

A little flare of heat tingles in my cheeks. I force myself to meet his cold gaze. “You aren’t?”

“Not unless you reject me.” Pain flashes across his face, but he schools his expression quickly. “And besides, Cathal exiled me. I’ve no pack anymore. No home to return to. It’s just me.”

The way he says it makes even me feel lonely. Is he worried about that? Being rejected and left all alone? I’d be a fool to think otherwise. No wonder he’s keeping all his walls up around me.

“This is all... a bit confusing to me,” I admit softly. Reaching out, I take Faolan’s chin and tip his head back so I can see the deep marks on his neck—bite marks. His brother certainly didn’t hold back. “But I want to understand.”

“I’ll explain it to you. All of it. Whatever you want to know.”

My lips pull into a small smile as I begin wrapping the last bandage around his throat. His skin is warm to the touch, like he’s got a fire burning within him.

“Are you always warm like this?” I ask once I’ve finished with the bandage and can pull away.

He nods, then reaches up to tug on the bandage around his neck.

“Don’t,” I say. “You’ll pull it loose. Just give it a moment—you’ll get used to it.”

A grumble vibrates in his chest, but he lowers his hand, leaving the bandage alone.

“Well, that’s all I can do for now. We’ll keep the deeper wounds clean and reapply poultice to the shallow ones. You’ll tell me if they start to bother you?”

Again, he nods.

“Good.” With a sigh, I brace a hand on the table and push myself up, grateful once again that Alden fixed it for me.

Grabbing the mortar and pestle, I carry them to the kitchen counter.

Outside, the light is golden as the sun crawls higher into the pale blue sky. I wonder when Alden will be home...

A presence behind me makes me pause in wiping out the mortar. Faolan approached so quietly, I didn’t even hear him. But there’s no mistaking the wave of heat that rolls over my skin as he eases up behind me.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and he’s standing so close that his breath shifts the hair draped over my neck.

Goose bumps dance across my skin.

Setting the rag down, I turn to face him. Like with Alden and Rowan, I have to tip my head back to meet his eyes. “For what?”

“Not rejecting me.” His gaze flicks to my lips, then back to my eyes. “Yet, at least.”

“Yet?”

He shrugs, shifting closer. His hands brace against the counter on either side of my waist. “You could always change your mind.”

“Then maybe... you just need to give me a reason not to.”

Faolan’s cold blue eyes search mine, and then he lowers his head until our lips are a hair’s breadth apart. “That sounds like a challenge.”

His breath brushes across my lips. It makes me warm between my legs. “And if it is?”

This time when he smiles, his lips pull back far enough to reveal the elongated canines that stay with him even in his human form. “As you’ll come to learn”—suddenly, his hands are around my waist, and he lifts me onto the counter with ease—“I love a challenge.”

His hips press my knees aside, opening my legs, and I let out a small gasp just before his mouth comes down on mine.

And kissing him is nothing like kissing Alden or Rowan. Kissing Faolan is like kissing untamed wilderness, like running naked through the trees and bathing myself beneath waterfalls. He tastes like pine and cold air and moonlight. He tastes like freedom .

My hands push through his hair, and it’s just as smooth and soft as it looks. Each strand glides seamlessly through my fingers, like silk against bare skin. I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck, careful to avoid tugging the bandage, and crush his lips more firmly against mine.

I’ve wanted to do this since that very first day—not that I would’ve given the state he was in. Finally, I’m getting my first taste of him.

In response, his hands trace up my low back and along either side of my waist, leaving heat and tingling flesh in their wake.

Suddenly, there’s a prick of pain on my side, and I pull away from Faolan with a gasp.

We both look down to find his fingernails have transformed into claws, and one pierced right through my dress to nick my skin.

Realizing what’s happened, he pulls away from me, leaving me seated on the counter, still breathing hard.

“I’m sorry,” he says, backing away from me until the backs of his thighs bump the kitchen table. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.” I inspect the torn fabric and find that it’s only a scratch—nothing to be concerned about.

Faolan, though, looks ready to throw himself through a window again.

“Hey,” I say gently, drawing his stormy gaze back to mine. “I said I’m fine. Truly.”

“I hurt you.”

“Barely. It’s just a scratch.” I tip my head to one side and offer him a smile. “Now, will you come back over here?”

Clenching his teeth so hard I can see his jaw straining, he shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t.” His fingernails are still claws, and his chest is rising and falling rapidly, as if he were just running through the woods.

“Well then,” I say, slipping off the counter and crossing the kitchen to trail my hands up his chest, careful to avoid his many wounds, “I suppose I’ll have to come to you.”

He’s tense under my hands, even as I rise high onto my tiptoes to press kisses along his firm jaw. My mouth finds the smooth skin along the uninjured side of his neck, just below his ear.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” he asks.

It’s true. Ever since he collapsed into the leaves and morphed into his human form, I’ve not feared him. He startled me the other night, when he was so overcome by anger, but I still wasn’t afraid of him, just as I’m not afraid now.

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully, still pressing my lips to the pulse throbbing in his neck.

Maybe it’s because I’m his mate, or am supposed to be, at least. I don’t want to reject him, but neither am I ready to fully commit to him.

There are still too many unanswered questions, too much confusion and haze regarding what all of this means.

We have time for that later. For now, all I want is to kiss him.

And finally, he gives in, his arms wrapping around me firmly.

But just as his mouth finds mine again, there’s movement behind me, and I know exactly who’s entered the kitchen.

Pulling away from Faolan, I glance over my shoulder, and Harrison is standing there, tail puffed up, looking like he might dive right back through his cat door and disappear into the woods again.

“Wait,” I say before he can do just that. I ease out of Faolan’s strong grasp, and as he and Harrison regard each other, I smile. “Faolan, I want you to meet my best friend, Harrison.”