Page 35 of Witch Unexpected
I’d seen plenty of hot guys in my life. I mean, my best friend had a harem of them, but this guy… This guy was a punch to the solar plexus. His shirt strained across his chest and hugged his biceps, and his jeans were snug on his slender hips and taut across his powerful thighs. He was a big guy—hulking Norse god big.
The moonlight kissed his hard jaw and lingered on his full lips, the kind of lips someone could spend hours tasting, but it was his hair that had my pulse pounding in my throat—dark, rich, crimson locks that fell in waves about his chiseled face.
And shit, he was staring right at me with intense gunmetal blue eyes beneath the slash of inky straight brows. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t because this was him.
This was the crimson wolf, Leif.
“Let’s get on with this,” Leif said. “I have a hunt to finish.”
The golden wolf at his side growled softly as if in agreement.
“Where is Torsten?” Anna asked.
“Not here.” Leif tore his attention from me and fixed it on Anna. His mouth turned down wryly. “But you don’t need all three of us for this, do you?”
“Yes, of course,” Anna said. She turned to me. “The potentials are put through several tests for endurance, resilience, and mental fortitude, and the ones who pass are given this final test of residual power.”
“I get it. I’m the last one standing, so no need for the other tests.” The words just popped out, and the look on her face told me I’d gone too far.
People had died. Witches had died, and that was the only reason I was here. “I’m sorry. I can be a little too blunt sometimes. I’m sorry for your loss.”
She sighed. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Also, yes, you’re right. No need for you to take any other tests.”
In other words, I could be as thick as a brick, and it wouldn’t matter. All that mattered was my residual power.
Which led me to the questions. “What is residual power?”
“This monument is sacred,” Anna said. “It sits upon a convergence of ley lines. A powerful energy point that allows us to commune with Hecate herself. We do not call upon her guidance lightly, which is why the final test is only administered to those who have proven themselves worthy. The monument will test your ability to harness the cosmic power required to keep the seal intact.”
“I thought the binding, mating thingy with the wolves did that.”
“The mating allows you to maintain the seal because cosmic power alone isn’t enough. You’ll be fed continual miasma through your connection to the alphas. But you’ll be linked to the seal, and you’ll keep it intact.”
“So, I’m basically a conduit?”
“Yes.”
And conduits wore out, which was why they needed to replace the anchor every century. My head spun, and all this information might prove pointless if I failed this test.
Best to get it over with. “What do you need me to do?”
She pulled a dagger from thin air and held it out to me, hilt first. “Slice your palm and press it to the stone.”
Slicing anything of mine sounded like a huge no, but the sooner I got this out of the way, the sooner I’d know where I stood.
I made the cut, wincing at the cold burn. Wren scrambled up to sit on my shoulder as I pressed my hand to the stone. It was warm. Like, too warm.
The elders began to chant, soft and indecipherable words, and then the platform was flooded with moonlight. A brighter shaft cut through the night and lit up the statue. I had to turn my head away and squint my eyes against the glare.
The chanting rose, and a new heat brushed my side and kissed my thighs.
Leif and the wolf flanked me. I peeked up at the crimson-haired shifter, but his attention was fixed on the statue, and a slight frown marred his features. He placed his palm on the stone.
I glanced down at the wolf in time to see him press his forehead to the statue.
Wren whimpered and began to babble, gripping me a little too tight. Was this it? Were we done?
The chanting petered out to be replaced by gasps.
