Page 17 of Witches and Wine (The Mythical Mates of Arcane Cove #1)

“Marry her,” Bruce said, his eyes as wide as full moons, resting his chin in his hands propped on my apartment bar top.

Bruce had a point, and he didn’t often make many good ones.

Shaking my head, I flopped my e-tablet on the counter, pulling up nauseating business spreadsheets. “While I don’t disagree with you, that’d be moving a little fast, don’t you think?”

“Not for a broad—” Bruce winced when I flashed him a glare. “—a treasure like that female, Dion. If you ask me, you find something that jives with you, and you hold onto it with everything you got.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose because staring at numbers was already giving me an ethereal headache. “This coming from a guy who has dated a grand total of what? Three beings in the decade I’ve known you?”

Bruce put his fists on his hips and lifted his chin proudly. “I’ll have you know I’m currently dating a lovely kitsune.”

Pausing and giving Bruce my full attention at that, I quirked a smile. “A fox? You’re dating a fox?”

Bruce waggled his bushy eyebrows and moved close enough to elbow me in the thigh. “Damn right she is, but no, whereas a fox may be her most common form, she can shift into about anything she likes.”

“Good for you,” I mumbled, holding my face in my palms.

Bruce tugged on my elbow. “Hey now, why the long face? In mere days, you found out your girlfriend is a mythie, had apparent mind-blowing sex with her you won’t divulge, and yesterday, you took her to your fucking sanctuary , D. You’ve never taken anyone else there besides the maenads.”

“I know, I know,” I said, groaning, because what the Tartarus was wrong with me?

“Then what’s the problem?” Bruce gave an exaggerated shrug and scratched a horn.

Memories of the way Chelsea had become so unbridled in my woodland retreat, her pleasurable cries, and how incredibly fucking hot she looked with her ass in the air in front of me consumed my mind.

“I’m not sure if she’s taking me seriously. And I couldn’t blame her.” I beat my fist against the bar top, slapped my cheeks several times, and squinted at the spreadsheets again.

Bruce’s hand appeared over the tablet, and he slapped his palm on it, sliding it away from me. “You’re pitying yourself. You never pity yourself. What the fuck is really going on?”

Growling, I grabbed the nearest wine bottle and guzzled. “I think she’s my mate, Bruce. But as I told you assholes before, how the hell would I know for sure?”

“The Crone,” Bruce stated as if it were obvious.

I tapped my forefinger ring against the glass, relishing in its resonating melody. “Chelsea is supposed to be seeing her today. That’s why I’m here working instead of wooing the daylights out of her.”

Bruce flattened his palms, widened his eyes, and launched at me over the bar, bunching my shirt in a single hairy hand. “And you let her go alone? What’s wrong with you?”

“Of course, I let her go alone.” Frowning, I shoved away from Bruce’s grip. “She wants to learn more about her witchy magic, possibly join a coven, I don’t know. I figured she should explore that bit on her own.”

“Got a bad feelin’ about this, D.” Bruce shook his head and slid the tablet to his lap.

“Why?”

My brain began to reel at Bruce’s implications on what could go wrong during her time alone with the High Priestess.

While Chelsea being a witch was great news for our potential future, it wasn’t something I knew shit about, and I figured she should talk to the resident expert in town. What harm could come of that?

“What if she finds out the two of you are mates? She’d be finding out from that an ancient old crow instead of you. Think she’d be happy you hid it from her instead of bringing it to her attention?” Bruce interlaced his hands behind his head, looking pretty damn proud of himself.

Sneering at him, I tossed the empty bottle into the air, making it disappear. “You’re freaking me out. You start dating one female fox spirit, and suddenly, you’re an expert?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Groaning, I lightly beat my forehead against the doorframe, my horns itching at my skull, the beast snarling for her under my skin. “Why would I have told her when I don’t know for sure?”

“And that, friend, is called being a couple. You navigate things together. Understand?” Bruce poked his head.

“I hate you,” I grumbled.

“Love you too, Beasty Boy. Now, why don’t I do my job as your assistant, finish these spreadsheets, call the supplier, and you go talk to the witch, hm?” Bruce patted the tablet and wiggled his ass on the stool like he was settling in.

“Fine. But you are doing all of that from my club office. Not here.”

Bruce opened his mouth to protest, but I snapped my fingers, making him disappear from my apartment before he could get a word out.

I pressed my palms against the marbled bar top, my mind playing tricks on me, confusing me, and rattling my senses.

I’d stood toe to toe with giant squids, fire-breathing dragons, and Hera.

This was what frightened me. How did I tell the woman I was consumed by that we could, might be, eternal soulmates?

And given my track record, would she even believe me?