Page 41 of Witch Bound and Down

"Tell that to your magic," Snowman said dryly. "Because from where I'm standing, you look like a man whose mate just walked away, and it's killing you."

He was right. The bond was like a constant ache in Bullseye's chest, getting worse with every step Hazel took away from him. His magic was in chaos, reaching desperately for hers and finding only increasing distance.

"I don't know how to do this," he admitted. "I don't know how to be someone's mate. I don't know how to put another person's needs before the job."

"Then maybe it's time to learn," Snowman suggested.

But before Bullseye could respond, the sound of car engines echoed across the parking lot. He looked up to see two patrol cars pulling around the building—Sheriff Lawman's distinctive cruiser in the lead, with Smokie behind the wheel of the second car.

"Hazel!" Smokie called out, jumping from his car with obvious relief. "Thank the goddess you're safe! I've been so worried!"

"Smokie," Hazel said flatly, not moving toward him.

Sheriff Lawman climbed out of his cruiser more slowly, his eyes taking in the scene—the 18-wheeler full of cargo, Bullseye and Snowman standing beside it, and his son's runaway fiancée looking like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"Well, well," the sheriff said, his voice heavy with satisfaction. "Looks like we caught ourselves some smugglers."

"We're not smuggling anything illegal," Bullseye said quickly. "This cargo is completely legal to transport in California."

"But not across state lines," Sheriff Lawman replied with a predatory grin. "And certainly not without the proper federal permits for Class A restricted magical substances."

"How did you—" Snowman started.

"Anonymous tip," the sheriff said smugly. "Someone called in the location of this little rendezvous. Amazing how helpful the public can be when there's a reward involved."

Bullseye felt his world crashing down around him. Not only was he losing Hazel, but now they were caught red-handed with the cargo. The bond between them was screaming with shared pain and panic.

"Hazel," Smokie said earnestly, approaching her with his hands outstretched. "I know you're confused right now, but everything's going to be okay. We can work through this together."

"Together?" Hazel looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"I forgive you," Smokie continued, apparently taking her silence for agreement. "For running away, for the wedding, for... this." He gestured vaguely at Bullseye. "I know you were just having pre-wedding jitters and this criminal took advantage of your vulnerable state."

"That's not what happened," Hazel said quietly.

"Of course it is!" Smokie said with bright confidence. "Mr. Snuggles and I talked it over, and we both agree that you just need time to remember how much we love each other."

Through the bond, Bullseye could feel Hazel's desperation, her sense of being trapped between impossible choices. Stay with the man who'd betrayed her trust, or go back to the life she'd been running from.

"Hazel," Bullseye said desperately, "don't do this. Don't go with them."

"Why not?" she asked, her voice completely empty. "At least with Smokie, I know exactly what kind of person he is. He's never pretended to be something he's not."

The words hit Bullseye like a physical blow. Through the bond, he could feel her making a choice—not because she wanted Smokie, but because she couldn't bear to stay with someone who'd lied to her so completely.

"I'll take you home," Smokie said, beaming with joy. "We can postpone the wedding until you're feeling better. Maybe a nice quiet ceremony, just family."

"Home sounds good," Hazel said dully, walking toward Smokie's patrol car.

"Hazel, no!" Bullseye started after her, but Sheriff Lawman blocked his path.

"I don't think so, son. You've got bigger problems to worry about than my future daughter-in-law."

"She's not your daughter-in-law," Bullseye snarled, his magic flaring with desperation. "She's my mate!"

"Your what now?" Sheriff Lawman's eyebrows rose.

"We're magically bonded," Bullseye said desperately. "She can't just leave. The bond—"

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