Page 95 of Witch Unexpected
Leif’s smile was thin and calculating. “And if she dies?”
Huh?
Leif stroked my thigh reassuringly, as if he hadn’t just suggested my death.
“I wouldn’t allow it.” Jasper snapped.
“There are magical ways to stop a person’s heart, and in your weakened state, how would you stop us?”
And just like that, the solution to my Jasper problem was clear. To untether him from me, I had to die. Just for a moment. Enough to break the bond, and then I could have someone revive me.
Jasper would be gone.
He’d be gone.
“No.” The word was an explosion of breath.
Leif’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No?”
I couldn’t let him know the thought of losing Jasper made my heart race with panic, that it opened a pit in my stomach. I couldn’t let him know that I wasn’t ready or willing to let my curse go.
None of that made sense, but I was great with excuses. “I’m the anchor. We can’t take such risks.”
Leif studied me shrewdly, and I was sure he could see right through me. My neck grew warm. I caught Jasper’s gaze, expecting to see it alight with triumph, but there was a darkness in his emerald eyes, unfathomable and deep.
He vanished.
“Fuck.” I closed my eyes. “Fuck it all.”
Leif’s hand closed around my nape. I allowed him to tug me down and press a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“Now, you better get off me so we can step back into friend zone.”
He smiled wistfully, and I was tempted to sink into him, lips and tongue once more, but that was a slippery slope to heartache. So, instead, I scrambled off and adjusted my dress, body still throbbing from the kind of kisses that should have led to a hot fuck.
Stepping back into the friend zone was going to be hard.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Walking into a building filled with shifters from different packs was a novel experience. These creatures usually stuck to home turf. They were territorial and aggressive by nature, but in the Den, wolf shifters from the four shire city packs mingled easily. Whiskey glasses clinked, laughter drifted into the air, and music played—low enough to set an ambiance but not interfere with conversation.
No one gave us more than a fleeting glance as we passed. “How is this place possible?”
“Tor made it possible.” Leif sounded almost proud. “I told you he had excellent negotiating skills. From what I’ve gleaned, several weeks of sit-downs with the city pack leaders, and they agreed to invest in a place where territorial disputes could be put aside and they could enjoy the finer things in life, do a little business, and be confident that no brawls would break out. This is essentially a gentleman’s club for shifters.”
It held a classy décor too. Nothing like I’d pictured Torsten to be. From what I’d heard about him, I’d expected a rough and ready shifter with a chip on his shoulder. Maybe some tattoos, heck, who knew? Now, I was intrigued to see the kind of man who’d dream up a place like this.
“I thought everyone said he was dangerous?”
“Dangerous, yes,” Leif said. “But only to people who cross him. When Tor hunts, when he fights, he gives in to the beast completely. He becomes the beast. In the past, there’ve been occasions where pack members were hurt, but he’s worked hard to get his beast in control.”
“Really? What about the banged-up envoys?”
Leif pressed his lips together. “Tor hasn’t been himself for a while. Like I told you, he left suddenly, renouncing his duty and setting up this new life.”
“You don’t know what caused it?”
“No. And believe me, I’ve tried to find out.”
