Page 47 of The Wolf and his Witch

Annabelle stared up at Gabriel.I am his mate?

“Are you saying…? Are we…? If you turn me into…?”

“You’ll be like me. Or more precisely, like my cousin Alain. He’s a wolf witch. It’ll take some training, but you’ll be both a practicing witch and a werewolf. Most importantly, you’ll be mine.”

That last word had a hint of a growl.

“And you’ll be mine, too, right?”

He broke into a grin. “Forever,bebe.Forever. Are you saying yes?”

Annabelle’s heart flip-flopped around in her chest. She really liked the sound of that. Her and Gabriel together. Finally. Would he move to the States? Would she move to Paris? She couldn’t leave the coven. Not now. Maybe not ever. Would he be prepared to leave his pack? They’d never had any of these conversations. He’d left too soon in Paris. He hadn’t known she was a witch. She hadn’t known he was a shifter.

“You’re thinking really hard there,mon amour.”

“It’s just there’s so many details—”

The implications were…huge. For her, for them, for the coven and for her mission. The mission…

He pressed a finger to her lips. “Belle,I would never ask you to leave your coven. I know you are to take over from Marjory. Stef is right. I take my job too seriously. If Paris taught me anything, it’s that I need to learn to delegate. My fellow wolves have been itching to prove themselves. I can do most of my job from here.”

Tears pricked her eyes. He would move away from his pack for her? “Yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, Gabriel Montagne, make me your mate.” He picked her up and swung her around, beaming, and she laughed at his exuberance. “Of course, we’ll have to postpone the mission for a bit, I suppose, until I’m properly trained,” she said when her feet were back on the floor.

His smile disappeared.

She pulled out of his arms. “Oh no, Gabriel. Just because I’ve agreed to be your mate doesn’t mean you can start that overprotective shifter bullshit. Don’t forget, I was the one who got myself out of that basement.Iwas the one who took down Dutton.”

“Annabelle—”

“No. If you have a problem with me taking on this mission, you can come with me. You’ve used the spell now. You know what to expect.”

“Annabelle—”

“Two of us will be better than one. We’ll have a better chance of taking out Faucher. That’s the only concession I’m willing to make.”

“Annabelle, stop. That’s not what this is about.” He shared a glance with Stef, then they both looked at Isobella. “Isobella is the one who must go.”

Isobella gasped. “Me?” She jumped to her feet. “I can’t go, I…”

“We know you’re sick, Isobella,” said Stef.

Annabelle rounded on Isobella. “You’re sick? How? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Isobella hugged herself. “I… I’ve only just found out. I was going to tell you all—Dad, Mom, the High Priestess.” She took a shaky breath. “I’m dying.”

“Well, we’ll use a healing spell. We’ll get the whole coven involved—minus the Kings, of course.”

Isobella stared at her with sad eyes. “Annabelle, this is not a sore shoulder that a simple spell, no matter how many people are chanting it, will heal. I have ovarian cancer. Stage four.”

“What about chemo? There has to be something.” She couldn’t lose Isobella. She was the only sibling she had. And she hadn’t had her sister nearly long enough to suit her.

Gabriel cupped her face. “There is something, but it means Isobella going on this mission.”

Annabelle pushed him away. “Going on this mission will kill her. For sure. There’s no medical intervention, no treatment for cancer in the tenth century, Gabriel. They barely have sanitation or personal hygiene.” Annabelle stamped her foot on the ground. “She’s not going.”

“What something?” piped up Isobella. “Stef? Gabriel? You said there was something that could treat me. What is it?”

Gabriel sighed. “I can’t tell you that, Isobella. I’m sorry. If I do, it might change what you do and it will never come to be. What I can tell you is that you survive and live a long life. In the tenth century.”

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