Page 20 of The Wolf and the Witch

Greta stalked through the packhouse blindly. Her eyes didn’t register her surroundings, her mind preoccupied with the sudden downpour pounding the roof. Oh, and the Lycan responsible for her last two orgasms.

“Are you lost, hon?” a voice asked, coming from her right. Greta turned, surprised to find herself near the entryway of the kitchen. Her brows furrowed, recognition flaring. She cocked her head at the female poised behind a marble countertop, knife held in one hand. Peanut butter caught the light, coating the tip of the butter knife.

Greta shook her head. Dealing with one Lycan in a day was enough for her. Her head swiveled forward, eyeing the door and the path she assumed led to fresh air.

“Are you looking for Geralt?” the unknown female asked. Greta returned her focus to the Lycan watching her with curious eyes. She noted the fine line of wrinkles creasing the other woman’s face, dark hair pulled on top of her head in an artful bun. Cherubic cheeks pulled taut with a friendly smile, canines catching Greta’s eyes.

Greta’s eyes narrowed, discomfort and wariness tugging at her. Lycans didn’t hide their nature among themselves. Claws tipped their fingers and inhuman canines decorated their mouths. It always unnerved her to see their blatant, animalistic features on display.

“I’m actually heading out for some air,” Greta informed the nosey female, feet itching to feel earth beneath her toes. The smile on the other woman’s face stretched wider at her words.

“Fantastic. I’ll have Gabriel walk you out. There is a little creek nearby that has some beautiful chrysanthemums in bloom.” Greta’s brows raised. It sounded beautiful, minus the part about having an escort.

“I can find it myself. Water calls to me.” Her cheek twitched at hinting her element to a stranger, but a soothing aura bracketed the older female, putting her at ease. Greta wondered how she knew Geralt outside of him being her Alpha.

“Nonsense. Geralt will insist we take your safety seriously. Besides, Gabriel’s on his way down. He’d love to escort you. Wouldn’t you, Beta?” Greta whirled around, instinctively reaching for magick when the dark-haired Lycan stepped near her.

Sensing her wariness, he held up both hands. “I’m Gabriel, the pack Beta. You can think of me as Geralt’s second in command. And Helen is right, he’ll want you to have an escort.”

The faint scent of sunflowers teased her nose, the earthy smell easing some of the tension from being near a male Lycan. Each member of their species was capable of tearing a human limb from limb, but violence rode the males harder, she noticed during her time at the palace. The females strayed toward being territorial, snapping and snarling at the members of the same sex.

Greta’s eyes swung from one Lycan to the other, sensing a trap, but uncertain where it laid. She gave a reluctant nod.

“Okay, that’s fine. I won’t be long. Besides, I read chrysanthemums are good for memory and love spells.” She motioned with her hand for the larger male to lead on, keeping several feet of distance between them. If it had teeth and could turn into an animal, she didn’t trust it.

Except for Geralt, her traitorous mind whispered. She ignored it, following behind the tall Beta, his head brushing the underside of the door frame when he walked through it. With sunlight kissing her face, wind whipping through her braided hair, she walked after Gabriel, rocks rubbing against the soles of her bare feet as they approached the woods bracketing the packhouse.

Despite being behind enemy lines, it felt good being surrounded by nature’s bounty. She closed her eyes, letting the light drizzle of rain run down her cheeks. Her toes squished the grass between them. A smile stayed on her face the entire walk. Being surrounded by nature, water touching her skin and her body still relaxed from her time in Geralt’s office, she felt content for the first time in a long time.

Mine

Geralt rested near the bank of the creek, letting the trickling water lull him. The unexpected downpour slacked up, allowing his gray fur to dry with the spare breeze ruffling through his coat. His snout rested on his paws, belly lying flat against the forest floor.

Occasionally, his head would swivel to the tree to his left. Carved in neat calligraphy spelt out ‘In Loving Memory of Angel Greatwater’. Red chrysanthemums rested against the base, spread out in a generous wreath.

He blinked lazily, Ryker relaxing within his skin. A familiar pang hollowed out their chest, leaving little room for any other emotion. Ryker whined the longer Geralt stared at the tree. Neither beast nor man wanted to be reminded of their loss. But this place brought them the most peace. It had been Angel’s favorite spot as well.

Mate, Ryker insisted in his head. Geralt released a huff. He’d avoided Greta the rest of the day. Two shifts and several hours running a trail around the pack borders allowed the feral instinct to claim her to simmer to a low burn. He’d almost thrown her back on his desk and knotted her when she asked about breaking the bond.

It felt more solid. He tensed, sensing her nearness. Rising to all fours, he shook his fur out, hoping to expel more water, but the light drizzle made the act futile. He opened up the link in his mind, feeling her apprehension and contentment warring within her.

His maw stretched in a malicious grin. His mate enjoyed being on packlands, surrounded by nature, and fought against it, just as she fought the instinctive allure of the mating bond. He decided then and there he wasn’t leaving for the Silver Lake pack until he claimed what was his. And whether or not she knew it, Greta was his.

Part Four

“I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.”

? J.R.R. Tolkien

Breaking Down

Birds called from the tops of trees, their song and the patter of rain striking the damp earth created a serene ambiance. It made Greta homesick, heart clenching with longing for something she’d never get back. Tears stung her eyes and her mind convinced her that her scars itched.

Feeling out of breath, she threw a hand out, gripping the rough bark of the nearest tree. Gabriel’s soft footsteps paused ahead of her. Leaves crunched beneath his shoes as he walked back to her. Panic and fear surged through her, another Lycan’s face superimposing over Gabriel’s.

Reaching for her magick, she forced water to swirl up from the ground, weaving around her and creating a protective dome. She prevented every drop of falling rain water from hitting the ground, pulling it around her, thickening her barrier. Red eyes glowed through the water’s murky surface. The red gaze summoned screams echoing in her ears, blood filling her vision. A scream trapped in her throat, caught behind her clenched teeth.

She don’t remember falling, but damp leaves brushed her knees. Her hands clutched at her constricting chest, the air suddenly harder to suck down.

---