Page 209 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

‘Paul?’ Her voice was a little sharp and he sat up with a jerk, eyes snapping open, searching around them for whatever threat had put that sound in her voice.

There was nothing. He looked back at her. Her gaze was pinned on his, eyes wide, her mouth opened a little to show the slight crookedness of her front teeth.

‘What is it?’

‘You started to fade.’

‘What?’

She lifted her hand, droplets of water sparkles in the sun as she gestured at him. ‘You were there and then … you began to fade. I’ve never seen anything like it before. How did you do it?’

‘What? What are you talking about?’

‘It was almost like you were becoming a shade. But that isn’t possible. You still have your soul.’

He stared at her, a little frisson of horror sparking to life inside him. ‘It must have been a trick of the light. I didn’t do anything.’

‘I assure you, I was not seeing something. Ask her.’ She gestured behind him.

He didn’t need to turn to see who was there.

Ivy.

He didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d felt her presence the moment she’d started up the hill, had been trying his utmost to ignore it, ignore the fact he knew she was coming closer, but now she was here, the impact on him was unavoidable. He held himself still, even though every part of him was longing to turn, to look at her, to breathe in the beauty of her spirit, the gentle energy of her wolf, the intensity of her blue eyes. His fingers tingled to touch; his lips longed for hers. Her scent—jasmine on a summer breeze—cut through the mineral smell of the water and teased his senses.

He wanted her.

He longed for her.

He could never have her.

‘Ivy, tell me you saw what Paul just did.’

Ivy didn’t come closer, but he felt her eyes on him as if she was standing right beside him, touching him.

‘I’m not sure what I saw. It could have been the light.’

‘It wasn’t the light. Magic lit the air. You had to have felt it. Your wolf had to have sensed it.’

She didn’t say anything but did come closer. She slipped into the water beside him, not close enough to touch, but close—too close. He shifted away. She made a small sound—of distress? Ah, shit. He didn’t want to hurt her. His eyes went to her.

She was staring at him with that same look he’d seen in her eyes the night of the mating ceremony. As if she could see his pain. But that was impossible. He’d built so many barriers around his pain, impenetrable from even the most talented witch or warlock, there was no way she could sense it.

And yet, now, he was certain she could see his pain as if he was wearing it on his face. How?

He should go. He wanted to go.

He couldn’t go.

But he must.

She gasped—as did Mariella.

‘Paul.’ Ivy reached out and touched him.

Her touch sparked through him, bringing life and light where there had been pain-driven numbness. He gasped.

‘How did you do that?’ Mariella’s voice was a mere whisper.

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