Page 110 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

“This is going to hurt, Ronan. I’m sorry.”

The soil on my skin jumped to his, grinding into his wounds. He screamed as the grains moved like millions of tiny robots seeking to rewrite the code in his cells. His wolf howled, and fur bristled all over his body.

I hugged his neck and pressed my face against his throat, my tears washing away the trail of dusty mud I’d created.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

The human screamed and the wolf howled until his voice was a painful scrape of sound. I cried until I was empty. When he finally stopped, I fell away from his body and onto my knees on the cold tile floor.

I was completely clean. Every grain of soil had transferred from my body to his. It was more magic than I’d given Bronwyn, more even than I’d given Red, because he’d given Ronan his magic, too. Lightheaded and weak, I slumped onto my belly then tumbled onto my back and stared up through the glass ceiling at the star-kissed, dark desert sky. Fairy lights glimmered. The herbs growing closest to me perfumed the air with lavender, rosemary, and mint.

It was then that I took notice of the music.

AC/DC’s “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” was playing on the radio.

A laugh burbled out of me. “Dirty, yes, but definitely not cheap.”

I turned my head to see if Ronan was hearing this. A vapor cloud hovered over him, shrouding him in fog. He was caught betweenforms, more man than wolf but nothing anyone would consider human. I wanted to call out to him, ask if he was all right but couldn’t work up the energy.

My teeth chattered. I was cold, but it was a removed feeling, like the way my arm felt when I accidentally slept on it. My eyes were closed, and I didn’t remember when I’d shut them. Exhaustion came at me like a bully, slugging me into sleep.

Warmth.

Soothing heat wrapped around me, loosening my stiff, sore muscles. I blinked awake. It took me a moment to realize I was staring at the morning sky through the ceiling of the garden room. The radio was still on, and “It’s a Beautiful Morning” by the Rascals was playing. It had to be after ten, since that was a sixties song and KLXX usually only played seventies hits in the early mornings.

Something heavy—check that, someoneheavy—was curled up on the floor beside me. Ronan’s wolf. I’d seen him before, though never so close. His yellow, red, gray, and black fur was so soft and warm I couldn’t help burrowing into it. I glanced up, and gleaming golden eyes stared directly into mine. Drool pooled on the tile beside my face. I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his.

“Ronan.”

He rolled over and snuffled my neck. Although I knew it was him, there was nothing quite like a three-hundred-pound wolf with teeth like blades near your throat for bringing one back to cold reality.

“Did I hurt him badly? Is that why you showed up?” I asked the wolf.

He lifted his head and shook out his fur, spraying me with drool.

His drool on the floor then.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Can Ronan come back, please?”

He moved his head slowly from side to side.No.

“He needs to stay in wolf form to heal?”

Nod.

“Did the wounds close? Let me see your hip.” I sat up, and thewolf growled, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. If having his muzzle at my throat had scared me, realizing I was completely naked and vulnerable beside him had me next-level terrified.

But Ronan’s wolf wasn’t growling at me. He’d turned his attention to the door, where Fennel and the kitten were seated, watching us.

“Don’t growl at the kitties,” I said. “That’s Fennel, my partner, and little Autry is our friend. Your human even named her, so he won’t be happy if you try to eat her.”

The wolf grumble-growled and sank back down, his head on his forepaws. I took the opportunity to look him over, surprised that the wound on his hip was still visible. It had closed, but it wasn’t gone. The lesser ones had healed without a trace, but that big one was probably going to leave a scar, even on his wolf.

Not that it would detract from the man in any way. Scars were super sexy in my book. Probably because I was naturally attracted to survivors.

I looked at Fennel. “How was he last night after I passed out?”

His meowed reply was long and drawn out.

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