Page 8 of Bewitchingly Hers
“Just look at me. I never thought the love of my life was going to be mycat.Sure, it was a little non-conventional, but…” She snorted. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Willow gave me a once over. “Maybe we should call the coven together have a little manifesting circle.”
I rolled my eyes. “We don’t need to try to manifest a love interest into reality. I’ll be just fine. Besides, I have Nutmeg.” And a wolf in my house, who was surprisingly great at keeping my mind off any lack of potential suitors.
“Well, you know the coven invitation is always open. Especially now that Luna is with Zain, we’re down one.”
Thirteen was a lucky number for witches. It was one we associated with powerful energies, which made it the ideal number of members in a coven.
I fidgeted with the ring on my right hand. “I don’t know.” I’d always been a bit of a loner. Being part of a group sounded…
Actually, it sounded pretty great. But I was just scared that I wouldn’t fit in. That something would happen and I’d find myself alone again. Except the second time, it would be even worse, because I would know what it felt like to be a part of something bigger than myself.
“Everyone is in agreement. We’d love to have you join us. Especially Rina and Wendy.” Willow winked, like my friends hadn’t been wearing me down on the same topic for the last few months. I was just being stubborn.
Dammit, she knew my weakness. “Okay,” I whispered out. “I’ll think about it.”
She stood up, stretching her back. “Good. I’ll send you the information for our next meeting. You just missed one last week during the full moon.”
The full moon had been the night I’d found the wolf. I bit my lip. “Speaking of…”
“Hm?” She was busy wrapping up scones into a box to take home.
I pondered what to say, how to ask for what I needed. “Do you have anything that would aid healing?”
Willow raised an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?” She looked me over, like she was searching for any potential injuries.
I shook my head. “Not for me. I just…” Fiddling with my favorite broom earrings, I thought about the best way to phrase my little predicament.I brought a wolf home.Probably not the best thing to say to my boss, especially considering he’d been inside the bakery. Sure, I’d cleaned it thoroughly afterwords, but still. “I’m just helping a friend with some injuries, that’s all. I’ve used some poultices and salves, but I’m worried about the internal damage, and infection. There’s only so much my magic can do.” I looked down at my hands. Even I had limits.
No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t bring a creature back from the brink of death in just a few days.
“Well, IthinkI have something back at the house that could help. But I’ll have to consult my book of potions. It’s been awhile since I brewed a healing one.”
“That would be amazing. I’d really appreciate it.” I felt a bit of relief course through my system. Things were fine, and the wolf would be fine. I’d get him back on his feet, and then the lingering worry would dissipate. All would be right again.
She smiled. “Then consider it done.”
Without warning, Damien entered the back room, his eyes flaring red for a moment before they faded back to brown. “Willow.” He let out a sigh of relief. “There you are.” He wrapped his arms around his mate’s stomach. “I was looking everywhere for you.”
“Damien.” She chuckled. “I’ve only been gone for…” Willow looked over at the clock on the back wall. “An hour.”
He rubbed his nose on the crook of her neck. “Doesn’t matter. You know how much I worry about you and our little witchling.”
Willow blushed, turning to me. “We should go.”
I laughed. “It was really good to see you, Willow. Thank you for the help.” I held up my empty cup. “And the coffee.”
“Any time.” She placed her hands over Damien’s, who seemed content to hold her in his arms. “Thank you for the scones.”
I nodded. “It’s still your shop, you know. You never have to thank me for anything.”
She winked. “I know.” Turning to her mate, she stepped up on her tiptoes—a feat, considering Damien was a foot taller than her—and whispered something in his ear. He scooped up the box on the counter before interlacing his fingers with hers.
“Bye, you two,” I called out.
“Goodbye,” Damien said, not even looking back, like he was too eager to get Willow home.
And yeah—I couldn’t deny that I wanted something like that for myself. A doting husband, someone who loved me and fretted over me.
Maybe one day.
