Page 10 of The Wolf and the Witch

“How are you doing that?” she asked.

Cocking a brow, he replied smoothly, “I asked first.” His eyes hardened as he flicked them around their surroundings. “Are we in danger outside your cabin, Greta?”

“Yes.” He stooped down, wrapping one hand around her basket and gesturing for her to continue walking with the other. She rolled her shoulders with a resigned sigh. At least he hasn’t killed me, she assured herself. Barely healed blisters flaring with pain every other step reenforced her resolve.

Smiling, she closed the distance between her barrier and the rest of Redwoods. That smile turned into a full chuckle when his growl echoed in the space between them. He’d slammed right into her barrier, her magick not recognizing him as friend but foe.

“Don’t play games, witch,” he snapped, lips pulled back into a snarl and green eyes flicker to red every other beat.

She walked to the edge of her barrier, eyes roving over him, assessing his threat level.

“I don’t mean you any harm. If I wanted to hurt you, I could’ve ripped your throat out when you were beneath me. Now, let me in so we can talk.”

“What do we have to talk about, wolf?” she asked him, raising a brow like he’d done moments before.

His lips twitched, and he huffed a breath through his nose. “Your future. Now, let me in.” Full lips thinned and green eyes narrowed on her, a challenge clear in the viridescent depths.

Raising her chin in challenge, she asked, “And what do you know about my future, dog?” His eyes flickered to red and remained there. Good. He’d had her off kilter since he tackled her. She wanted him as riled up as he’d gotten her.

Suddenly, his lips spread into a smile, flashing deadly sharp canines. “You’re mine, witch. And if you want to know more, lift the barrier.” He folded his arms across a muscled chest. It took a great deal of restraint keeping her eyes above his waist. Her traitorous body wanted to look, especially after his proclamation.

She walked away from him and the growls he’d released before paled compared to the sound erupting from his throat and arrowing straight to her core. Gasping, she threw a hand out, bracing against the unexpected onslaught of lust coursing through her. Something primal tightened within her. Fighting shivers, she trudged through the cabin’s doors, not risking a look behind her. Closing the door, she took several calming breaths, but her entire body ached, pulsed for something she shouldn’t want. She shook her head and glanced around her work area for a knife.

One room served as the entire living space. A small table rested in the middle of the room, with various vials and herbs on it. Hides and pelts hung from hooks in the ceiling. Greta marched to the worktable, swiping an athame off the varnished wood. She braced herself on the walk back out of the cabin. Geralt pressed both palms against the invisible dome, blood slipping down his hands and crimson eyes flared brighter at her approach.

She ignored him, pressing the tip of the athame against one finger, urging one drop of blood free. Whispering an incantation, “defendat,” she smeared her bloody finger against the ground where she’d buried the body of her first sacrifice. The greater the sacrifice, the stronger the protection. Through her third eye, she witnessed the barrier pulse, collapse, and spring back up again. Geralt fell forward during the collapse, landing on his hands and knees within the barrier before it re-erected.

“Let’s talk, wolf,” she spoke down to him. Illicit pleasure raced through her, standing above him while he stared up at her with red wolf eyes.

* Song of choice: You Put a Spell on Me - Austin Giorgio

Bargaining with Mate

He grinned up at his mate, covering up his confusion. Rising to his feet, he noted her flushed cheeks and blue eyes studiously avoiding looking at his cock. He stepped forward, wanting her eyes, hands, and lips upon him. But first, he needed her help with freeing Abbigail.

Greta is a blessing from Selene or a joke of which I’m the butt end, he thought. Despite tales of being given only one fated mate, the witch stirred the matebond within him. Already, their minds slipped into each other’s, letting her emotions bleed into him. He grinned at the hell she’d raise once she figures out how to manipulate the bond.

“Let’s go inside. Even if we’re inside a magical barrier, I don’t want to take chances.” She nodded mutely, hand outstretched for her basket. He knelt down once more, glancing up with hooded eyes when her arousal drifted to him on a breeze. Making certain their hands brushed when he handed the basket over, he leaned closer, wanting his scent mingling with hers.

“Greta,” he murmured, lips inches from her face. Wide blue eyes bounced around his face, her chest rapidly moving up and down. Her emotions came across murky, but he knew he unsettled her, caught her off-guard. Locking his eyes on her pink lips, he wanted to taste them. Ryker stirred again, reminding him, mate, as if he could forget. He licked his lips and watched her eyes follow the movement.

“Let’s go inside, wolf.” The whisper-soft words caressed his skin like a lover’s touch. He inched closer, letting his breath kiss her skin, daring her to back away. Her eyes shifted into hard glints of sapphire. She whirled around with a quickness that sent dark hair slashing across his face, the sting dulling his arousal.

His eyes followed the sway of her narrow hips in the ankle-length gown, cloaking her lush body from view. The garment appeared dated, a dirty brown unflattering to her figure. He’d felt her sharp edges digging into him while straddling her. A frown graced his face at the source of the thinness of her frame.

“Are you coming?” she asked, an edge in her voice. He strode forward, swallowing his tongue against the comments wanting to spring forth about the dilapidated roof above their heads. The wood floor creaked beneath his weight and his heart clenched at the thought of crashing through the floor.

“It’ll hold,” she said, noticing his hesitance. “Now, tell me about my supposed future.” She folded thin arms across a narrow chest, pushing the garment against small breast. His lips twitched, knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her hip braced against a worktable sporting several vials with suspicious contents floating in them. Pelts brushed his shoulders, hanging from hooks in the ceiling.

If he needed a reminder of what she was, the interior of the cabin left little doubt he was dealing with a witch.

“I need your help,” he stated, wanting to hold his cards close to his chest regarding her being his mate.

A scowl twisted her pert features. “And why would I help one of the moon-touched? Your kind is no friend to mine.” Hatred seared him from her glare across the small space. The door lay just inches from his back.

He fumbled for words. What could he offer her? He took a critical look around the room. A small twin bed rested against the wall to his right. The entire cabin was one big living space. Personal effects were absent and old wrinkled clothing graced his mate’s form. She’d deny it, he knew in his bones, but she needed him as much as he needed her.

“Because I can help you,” he replied, confidence buoying the words. Greta gave him an unimpressed look.

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