Page 19 of The Wolf and the Witch

Shocked, Geralt glanced from his Beta to the other male in the room. Sebastian lounged with his back leaning against a wall painted a pale blue, Abbi’s favorite color. He knew Helen dusted the room at least once a week, but couldn’t bring himself to pack her things away or change a single thing about the room.

“What are you both doing in here?” he croaked, emotions clogging his throat. His heart seized, fervently wishing for Angel’s presence. He loathed the fact she never got to see their daughter mated, radiant in the gown she picked out in a style similar to the one her mother wore.

His eyes caught on a picture of him and Angel in a frame sitting on Abbigail’s nightstand. Helen’s eyes had gleamed with tears, snapping away pictures despite his protests, eager to rip the gown off his mate. He was relieved Helen hadn’t listened to him

“We were getting a scent, Alpha,” Sebastian responded, mockery tainting his words. Geralt resisted snapping at the male. Gabriel trusted his twin, accepting his help, and that should be enough for Geralt. His Beta never steered him wrong, even leading the pack during the time Geralt grieved for his dead mate.

“Greta—” He broke off, wincing at speaking his new mate’s name in Abbigail’s room. “The witch hasn’t come up with a plan yet. It’s a little soon to be in here, sniffing my daughter’s things.” He patted himself on the back for getting the words out without a pause or any stiffness.

Gabriel rose, the bear still clutched in his hands. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Alpha.” Ryker pressed against his skin, demanding he rip his Beta’s throat out. Geralt held the beast back, barely.

“What do you want to talk to me about, Beta?” Geralt injected some venom in his voice, suddenly not trusting the twins in Abbigail’s room. Gabriel’s brown eyes shifted from him to clash with his twin’s, drifting back to Geralt lazily.

“Maybe we shouldn’t wait on the witch—” Geralt’s growl interrupted Gabriel, low and harsh, throat coaxing the sound from within.

“I did not survive Redwoods for you to make a decision like that behind my back. Greta didn’t nearly fucking die to suddenly decide to not use her help. How dare you?—”

Sebastian interrupted his tirade, stepping softly in Geralt’s direction. His head snapped to the rogue in his pack. Ryker snarled in his head, urging him to remove both of them from his home and piss on their corpses.

“You know the Silver Wolf runs Crescent Moon pack?—”

“You mean the pack you’re a part of that’s settling near my territory? Why the fuck should I trust you or that pack?” Geralt snapped, canines digging into his upper lip, eyes flashing red.

Sebastian raised scarred hands slowly, a somber expression painting his face. “You’re right. But Malik figured that if any Alpha would make a good neighbor, it would be the father of the King’s mate. He assigned someone to tail Natasha back to the palace.”

“I know where the palace is. I attended my daughter’s mating there, didn’t I?” Geralt fired back, hackles raised.

Gabriel nodded his assent, silently stepping into the role of mediator. “But forgive me, Alpha, why should we wait on the witch? Wouldn’t it be better to act now?” Geralt’s eyes narrowed on his Beta.

“Why the rush now? You agreed with the plan to fetch a witch when Ella suggested it. I have the witch?—”

“She’s your mate.” Sebastian’s words fell into the room, descending everyone into stillness. Geralt closed his eyes, swallowing his rebuttal. The rogue spoke no lies. In fact, Sebastian shared the experience of losing a mate. He knew, intimately, what Geralt risked by involving Greta.

Geralt eyed his eyes. Crimson vision painted everything in shades of red and orange, eyes able to track the flow of blood of both Lycans in the room. Canines bit into his lower lip, tempering his bloodlust.

“I will speak to Greta. Nothing happens without my say so. We risked too much to return here.” He swallowed several times, claws digging into his palms. He didn’t need to look down to see splatters of blood staining his daughter’s bedroom floor.

“I had planned to visit the Silver Lake pack. There’s a male who retired from the guard. He knows the ins and outs of the palace,” Geralt informed the twins, shaking his head left and right, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. The guard knew intimate details of the king’s palace. It’s possible King Michael had him killed in case the information made its way into enemy hands.

But Malik, the Silver Wolf, still lived, so there was hope. If the king could allow his former advisor to still breathe air and create his own pack, then the guard might be alive. While he pried the information from the male, Greta would remain behind in Blood Moon pack, formulating a spell to free his Abbi.

“Are you going alone?” Sebastian asked. Excitement coated his question. Rogues fell into two categories. Animals and loners. Animals held no control over the beast. Their human counterpart became trapped in the wolf’s skin, unable to shift back, or worse, stuck in a partial shift and needing to be put down. Loners preferred traveling to settling down into a pack.

Sebastian left with his mate several years back, in search of a new pack. After her death, he became a loner. Geralt didn’t know the details of how the male became linked with the Silver Wolf or a member of the recently established Crescent Moon pack. But the bloodlust seeping into the male’s voice suggested he toed the line between animal and loner.

He will be meat for the hunts, Ryker cajoled in his head. The beast had a point. If Sebastian proved too eager, animals would choose to feast on his flesh over pursuing Geralt. Only Gabriel would suffer in the equation. With Ryker stalking his mind, Geralt’s eyes locked on the bear in his Beta’s hands.

Something about Gabriel holding something precious to Abbigail gnawed at him. He didn’t want to look at it, reaching the conclusion Ryker already arrived at, demanding the male’s blood.

“I planned to take Rex and Brice,” Geralt admitted to Sebastian. A beat of silence followed his words.

“I’ll go with them too. More warriors, the more likely you’ll return to your mate.” Geralt bristled at Sebastian’s words, but held his tongue. Rex shared Sebastian’s thirst for violence. Between the two, very few rogues stood a chance. Brice shared Gabriel’s levelheadedness and could help steer the hunting party in the right direction.

Geralt nodded his assent, ready to depart the room. He craved fresh air and packed dirt beneath his paws. He couldn’t allow himself to think too long on Abbigail’s situation while everyone dawdled with plans. Logic reminded him they had only one chance, one shot, to safely extricate his pup from the king’s hold.

Geralt didn’t waste time saying goodbye, his feet leading him out the door. There remained only one place in the entire pack that could settle some of the tension in his body and mind. He prowled down the hall, pounding down the stairs at the end of the hall, nearly running now for the front door, mind already envisioning the sweet scent of Chrysanthemums.

Nature’s Bounty

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