“You don’t have to make your decision in a hurry, Rebekah. I don’t know if Ulrik told you, but there’s no reverse spell for the amulet.”
“What?” The bread fell from her nerveless fingers.
Erin held up her hands. “Don’t panic. There could be. We’d have to make one, that’s all. To do that, we need a full coven of witches. That’s thirteen witches.” Erin gave her an apologetic smile. “Right now, we know of only one. Constance.”
So she’d been right about Constance. And about Ulrik keeping information from her. What else had she missed? What else was he keeping from her? What crime had he really committed against the count?
“As you can imagine,” said Erin, “we can’t just put out a classified ad to find witches. With the current religious climate, they won’t be shouting their presence from street corners or in the town square.”
Well, shit.
“Gaharet will help you, and so will I. If thatiswhat you really want.” Her voice betrayed her doubt.
Erin had a point. Who threw over a hot medieval knight for a single life working in a sleazy bar? To what? Live in a flat with peeling linoleum, a druggie neighbor and a landlord that would terrify Attila the Hun? Nobody. That’s who. And she’d be a right bloody idiot if she did.
From the moment she’d laid eyes on Ulrik and heard his raspy voice, her body had been all in, even if her mind had missed the all-points bulletin. It was getting itnow. When perhaps it was too late.
Bek swallowed, the memory of her words ringing in her ears.
‘Never again will I put myself in the hands of a man who’d allow someone else to suffer for something he’d done.’
Fuck.She cradled her head in her hands. She hadn’t known. Given the way he’d lost his family, it was easy to seenowwhy he’d reacted the way he did.
‘Family is precious.’
He’d told her that. As she’d sat by the fire while he cooked the hares he’d caught. The man had saved her from the keep guard, fed her, brought her to the one person who could understand her predicament and perhaps help her and she’d hurt him. Rejected him. Stabbed him in his heart with his own dagger. She pushed away her bowl of food.
Bek, as usual, you’ve completely screwed things up.
Chapter Thirty
Ulrik stared out into the gloom of the forest, unseeing.
‘Never again will I put myself in the hands of a man who would allow someone else to suffer for something he had done.’
Lying there with her in his arms, the cool water of the pond lapping at their bodies, her words had sliced through him with more steel than the blade of a battle-ax. One bad decision. Was he forever to pay for it? Had he not suffered enough? Lost enough?
The door of the cottage opened, and his alpha’s familiar scent surrounded him.
Gaharet stopped beside him, matching his stance. “Your mate is upset.”
Ulrik ground his teeth. “She is not my—”
Gaharet snorted. “Is she not? Rebekah is perfect for you.”
He opened his mouth to refute it, but no words came out. Smart, stubborn and not afraid to speak her mind, she challenged him in every way.Merde,his cock was already thickening at the mere mention of her name. He tossed his head back and stared at the sky, picking out stars and tracing patterns between them. Anything to shift his focus from his need for the woman he had not so long ago been inside of.
“Your wolf knows.”
As if to confirm Gaharet’s words, his wolf prowled to the forefront of his mind.
A numbness seeped into his chest. “It does not matter, for she will not have a man like me.”
Gaharet scoffed. “What do you mean, a man like you? A man who would sacrifice himself to save the life of his friend and his friend’s mate? A man who would rescue a woman from a danger she had no understanding of, though the lesser risk would have been to leave her behind? Any woman should feel honored to have a man like you.”
Warmth swelled in his chest at Gaharet’s words, but it could not overwhelm the certainty, the fatalistic acceptance, settling in his gut. “That may be, but it does not erase my past.”
“No,” Gaharet agreed, “but it need not define your future. Have you told her what happened? That your intentions were good?”