Page 26

Gabriel landed with a thump on the forest floor, having forced his aching body through a tear in the fabric of time once more.

Putain , his body hurt, but his heart no longer squeezed in his chest. Annabelle was alive and safe.

He rolled onto his back and stared up at the night sky, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth.

His woman was strong. She’d gotten herself out of that basement all by herself.

And she’d taken down Dutton with the fils de pute’s own knife.

What an amazing woman. Annabelle, his mate.

It was time to tell her everything. It was time to claim her and make her one of them.

He sent a text to Stefanie, telling her he was on his way.

Then he called for an Uber. It took him three attempts to get one to meet him at the entrance of Muir Woods.

The monument had closed at five. It was now eleven.

No one wanted to come out to the woods. And for a foreigner, no less.

Not at this time of night. He’d recited the spell around midday, spent perhaps three hours at most in the past, but he’d returned eleven hours later.

It was a good thing Isobella wouldn’t be coming back.

Who knew how inaccurate the spell would be if someone went that far back in time.

A light rain was falling as he paid the Uber driver and entered the hotel.

Would Annabelle be awake and waiting for him?

Would she still be in his suite? He leaned against the elevator wall.

L’enfer , he was tired, and he needed a shower.

But first, Annabelle and Isobella needed to know the truth.

Then he thought he might sleep for a week.

As long as Annabelle was curled up against his side, he would be a happy man. And wolf.

If she’d have him. He’d thought he’d seen something in her expression as he’d held her in his arms by the cabin in the forest. A softening of her anger toward him.

But he had a lot of explaining to do, and she could well reject him as her mate.

It didn’t happen often, but it did happen.

It’d happened to Maxime. Would Annabelle accept him?

Or would she doom him to long nights of melancholy drinking with Maxime? Two lone wolves bereft of their mates.

He stepped through the vestibule and into the penthouse apartment.

Annabelle stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out across the San Francisco night skyline.

The memory of her naked, her hands pressed against the glass as he’d taken her from behind, flashed through his mind.

His cock instantly rose to the occasion.

Oui, he wanted to do that again. Soon. Not now.

Not with Isobella sitting on the sofa, concern in her dark eyes.

Concern for him or Annabelle? Or for her role in this?

“About time.” Annabelle turned to face him, her arms folded across her chest. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Gabriel.”

“ Oui . Whatever you need to know, ma chérie. ”

She took a few steps toward him, but not close enough for him to draw her into his arms. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

“Who was that man with Dutton? Scarface?” she demanded.

Stef sauntered in from the kitchen, handed him a glass of whiskey and gave him a look that said he was on his own with this one.

He took a large swig, letting it burn down the back of his throat.

“His name was Gerard Boucher. He belonged to a fanatical group in France whose origins date back to the tenth century. They follow the writings of Eveque Faucher. They believe that any supernatural being like me, like you, are evil, and they dedicate their lives to hunting and destroying them. Because of Faucher’s experience with my ancestors, he had a particular fixation with the Langeais wolves.

The Faucherians have continued with his obsession. ”

Annabelle screwed up her nose. “The Faucherians? They call themselves the Faucherians ?”

Stef snorted. “A stupid name for stupid people.”

“Wait a minute.” Annabelle frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. If he believed supernatural beings to be evil, if these Faucherians believe the same, why would they work with a witch? With Dutton?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it suited them to for the moment.”

“That’s hypocritical.”

Gabriel took another sip of whiskey. “I said they were dedicated, not that they were intelligent. Or sane. But it is concerning. Faucher wasn’t the only enemy my ancestors faced. There was a witch, a time-traveling witch named Cordelia.”

Annabelle’s eyebrows shot up. “Cordelia. As in, Cordelia King?”

“I think so. Isobella says she has two different colored eyes.

Annabelle nodded. “She does. Heterochromia. It’s a genetic mutation.

“Then she fits the description.”

Annabelle flicked open the grimoire on the coffee table, turning page after page. “Do you think—”

“Yes.”

Annabelle contemplated the book of spells. “That’s pretty bad news for our coven. I’ll have to inform Aunt Marjory. Maybe show her the grimoire.” She shut the book. “What are we going to do with this thing when we’ve finished with it?

“I’ve spoken to Maxime, our alpha,” said Stef. “He wants Alain to look at it. He’s a wolf witch in our pack, and he’s a newly elected member of the Council of Witches.”

Gabriel snapped his gaze to Stef. “They elected Alain to the council? After what happened last year? How the hell did that happen? Didn’t they have any other candidates?”

Stef held up her hands. “Don’t ask me.”

“Let’s get back to these Faucherians.” Annabelle’s gaze flicked between him and Stef. “These people have been hunting your pack since the tenth century. And they followed you here. Did they have anything to do with why you left me in Paris?”

His woman was smart.

“They were a big part of the reason. Twenty-five years ago, they attacked and killed our alpha and his mate. Stefanie and Maxime’s parents.

With them at the time was their youngest daughter, Nathalie.

Three years ago, a woman claiming to be her surfaced in Langeais.

Everything pointed to her being who she claimed to be, but she wasn’t the first to make that claim.

Then the Faucherians got involved. She didn’t know it, but they were using her as bait.

If she really was Nathalie d’Louncrais, we couldn’t lose her again. I had to go.”

“Gabriel is essentially our head of security,” said Stef. “He takes his job very seriously. Perhaps a little too seriously.”

Gabriel shot Stef a look. “Thanks, Stef.”

She shrugged. “Well, you could have told Annabelle then, and we wouldn’t be here now.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “She wasn’t ready.”

Annabelle held out her hands. “Ready for what? To know you were a shifter?”

Gabriel sighed. “I didn’t know you were a witch. And we’re not like other shifters, Annabelle.”

“So you keep saying, but what does that mean? You’ve already told me you can’t impregnate a human. Oh.” Her face fell. “That’s it, isn’t it? You won’t mate me because I can’t provide you with pups.”

The hurt brimming in her eyes broke his heart.

“Is that what you needed to tell me?” Her voice rose an octave, and she hugged herself tight.

“You say you won’t leave me, so…what? I’m to become some sort of mistress ?

Well, I have news for you, Gabriel Montagne.

” Now her finger was out, and she was shaking it at him, her blue eyes stormy.

“I”—she poked herself in the chest—“I am no one’s mistress. ”

He crossed the room in quick strides. How had this all gone so wrong so fast? He gathered her in his arms despite her protests. She writhed against him, which did nothing to help his already hard cock at all.

“Annabelle, Belle, you are my mate. And the only woman for me.”

She stopped struggling. “But… What about…”

He planted a kiss on the bridge of her nose. “Belle , I cannot get a human pregnant, but I also said the Langeais wolves differ from other wolves. That we are true werewolves.”

She stared up at him, confusion written across her face.

“My bite, my claim, will make you mine, but it will also make you one of us.”

Her eyes widened. “One of—” She searched his face. “You can turn humans into werewolves?”

He smiled down at her. “Yes, Annabelle, we can. If you’ll let me, if you consent to be my mate, I’d like very much to turn you.”