Page 89 of Witch Unexpected
“And if you’re stuck here alone?”
“No one is ever left alone in the safe house. Wolves are pack animals, Cora.”
I stood hands on hips. “Okay, so we hang out in here.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Great. Dump your bags in a room, and we’ll head out for groceries. I’m not the best cook, but Torsten showed me how to make this amazing pasta—” He sighed heavily. “It feels like a lifetime ago,”
“You two were close?”
“All three of us were. We were raised together, encouraged to be friends, brothers, to work as a unit even though we had our own packs to run. We were a pack of our own.”
I was about to ask why, but then it clicked. “You were being prepared for binding with the anchor.”
“Yes. The past has taught us how important it is for the primal alphas to get along—it doesn’t always happen, and in those cases, the conflict has caused glitches in the anchor’s power. In order to keep the seal active, the anchor needs a level of harmony. One that her mates provide her with.”
“So, you were friends…”
“Yes, then about a year ago, Torsten upped and left. I went after him. He told me to fuck off. That he’d thought long and hard about mating to the anchor, and he didn’t want it. I thought he’d change his mind and come home eventually.”
“But he hasn’t.”
“No.” He sighed. “I don’t even know him anymore.”
“When can we go see him?”
“Tomorrow night. He’ll be at the Den. It’s a private club for shifters.”
“How can you be sure he’ll be there?”
He smiled dryly. “Because he owns it.”
* * *
Grocery shoppingwith Leif was an experience in being ogled. Females and males alike couldn’t keep their eyes off him. Then they’d look at me and back at him, probably wondering what the fuck an Adonis was doing with a plain Jane.
We were both dressed casually—him in sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a zippered hoody, and me in leggings, low-heeled ankle boots, and an oversized knitted sweater—but whereas he looked like he’d stepped off a fashion magazine cover, I looked like I’d crawled out of a hedge. Backward.
Sloane had neglected to pack a hairbrush, and my hair was matted in typical bedhead fashion. The trials and tribulations of having fine hair, but lots of it.
I added a hairbrush to the cart Leif was pushing.
“I can get the tangles out for you when we get back.” He leaned in with a cheeky smile. “I might even tell you the secret to tangle-free hair.”
I pressed a hand to my chest. “Ooo, the excitement.”
He chuckled, low and sexy.
No. Not sexy. He wasnotsexy.
“Oh god, he’s so sexy,” a woman blurted as we strolled past.
Leif smiled at her. “Thank you.”
Her face went red, and her female companion let out a squeal.
We turned onto the fruit and vegetable aisle. “What is this? High school?”
“You’ll get used to it,” Leif said. “I think it’s the hair that does it.”
