Page 64 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

Out of habit, I wiped my feet on the mat before lifting my fist. Good manners died hard. Abuela would be proud. Mom would probably have laughed.

The door opened before my knock landed, and a steel beam of anarm yanked me through the doorway and clamped a hand over my mouth. A physical attack wasn’t something I’d accounted for, which was pretty stupid of me.

I worked my teeth against his hand and reached back for his hair, but it was too short to grip. Yes, I was a biter and hair-puller. Anyone who tells you they aren’t hasn’t ever been in a fight. In a real fight, you don’t give a shit about rules. You kick and bite and pull and punch. Instincts kick in and you’d slug someone’s granny in the gut if it meant getting away.

I lifted my right foot and stomped hard on his instep. He made a sound of pain—though it wasn’t as loud as I’d have liked—and shoved my face into his chest.

Fennel launched through the doorway with a vicious “reeeeeowww” and slashed at my assailant’s face. The man jerked back with a mutedoofand a rasped cry of pain.

“Call off your familiar,witch,” he said in a fierce whisper.

“Mmm mmm mmm mmm-mmm-mm. Mmm mmm MMM-MMM.”

My face still squished into his chest, he walked his hand down to my chin, keeping me immobilized against him. I repeated, “He’s not my familiar. He’s my partner.”

“Keep your voice down. And call him off. I don’t want to kill it—or you.”

It wasn’t hard to pick up on the impliedyet. “He’ll stop if you let me go. He’s protecting me.”

“There’s nothing to protect you from. If I wanted you dead, I’d have snapped your neck already. Call him off before he gets hurt,” he whispered back.

“You think it’ll be that easy to kill us?” I asked, matching his volume and intensity.

“What I thinkis you’d better call him off or I might decide leaving you alive is too much effort.”

“I told you, he’ll stop if you let me go.”

“Fine.” The man shoved me away from him. Put a fingerto his lips to shush me.

Jeez, Fennel hadn’t been screwing around.

Blood poured from a slice on his forehead, partially hiding his face, but I’d already recognized him from his threats of violence and his iron grip.

After all, I’d been assaulted by him before.

“What the hell are you doing here, Mason?”

Chapter

Fourteen

“Me? What do you thinkyou’redoing here?” He mouthed the words, but I didn’t have any trouble picking up on the rage behind them.

He released me with a hard look.

“Trying to find Bronwyn and Margaux,” I mouthed back.

Was it smart to leave out Ronan? I kind of thought it was. Margaux had said I could go to Mason for help, but she’d meant with Bronwyn. I didn’t trust the man where Ronan was concerned.

“Bronwyn Jonas?” For the briefest of seconds, his expression morphed from fiery rage to naked concern. It settled on snobbish disdain. “Get out of here. You’re in my way.”

I conveyed my response to that with a raised middle finger.

Did he honestly believe I’d abandon the witches? On the say-so of his alpha, he’d been watching me for weeks, possibly months, and the fool was still clueless.

His eyes shut for a long moment while he breathed through his nose. “Look, I’ve got this. Just go. I mean it.”

“You can’t fightthiswithout a magical.” Itried not to make even a whisper of a sound. I’d already guessed there was another shifter around. One Mason didn’t trust.

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