Page 97 of Shifting Hearts 1
“I said…”
“Iknowwhat you said,” I cut in, spinning toward the back room. “Come on.”
He doesn’t question me, just follows, all heat and growl and shadow. The scent of him curls behind me like smoke, earth and danger andhome, though I refuse to let my traitorous heart admit that last part out loud.
I push open the heavy door to the back. It’s not a witch’s lair. Not exactly. Just my personal sanctum. Charms hang from the rafters. Shelves overflow with bones, herbs, stones, and dusty journals. It’s safe. Sacred. Mine.
Lucian doesn’t step all the way in. He hovers near the doorway, gaze drifting over the rune-carved table in the center.
“You still practice?” he asks.
I lift a brow. “That a problem, Alpha?”
His lip curls, almost a smile. But it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Just didn’t expect the half-wolf I left behind to turn full witch.”
“I didn’t turn into anything. Iwasthis the whole time. You just never looked close enough to see it.”
His nostrils flare, and I know I hit a nerve. Good he doesn’t deserve to be comfortable.
I place a small obsidian bowl in the center of the table and drop a match in. Smoke curls upward as dried myrrh ignites.
“Now,” I say, tone clipped, “tell me about the death. Don’t leave out a single detail.”
Lucian steps forward, finally entering the space. I feel it, his aura brushing against mine, electric and bitter. He’s trying to hold it back, trying not to touch me. But it’s not fucking working.
“A challenger came into my territory,” he begins lowly. “Too green and too arrogant. But he’s strong. The kind of wolf who’d take a shot just to prove he could. I let him make his case and he left. I found him two days later. His throat was ripped out, and his heart was missing.”
I blink. “Do you think it was a ritual kill?”
“It certainly fucking looks like it.”
“It could’ve been a rogue,” I say, knowing a ritual killing will mean nothing but problems.
He shakes his head. “No rogue would know how to kill like that and leave no scent behind.There was only one trail, and it was too clean. Almost like it was placed there on purpose.”
“So, whoever did it… wanted you to follow it?” I ask with a frown.
Lucian meets my gaze. “Exactly.”
A chill spreads over my skin. Someone lured him here. To Crystal Falls. Tome. But why? The question blooms like rot in my chest.
“I’ll cast a seeking spell,” I say, reaching for a carved wolf’s fang and a bundle of hawthorn twigs. “It might give us a direction.”
He nods but remains silent. I can feel his gaze on me as I work, watching my hands move, the way I whisper the wordsunder my breath, the way I close my eyes and press the fang to my tongue before dropping it into the smoke.
The bowl hisses and the smoke darkens. A vision flashes in my mind. It’s fast, sharp, and painful.
Blood on stone. A clawed hand. A broken chain. A shadowed figure watching Lucian from the trees with glowing red eyes. And in the distance? My face.
The vision snaps off and I stumble back, my heart pounding so hard I’m afraid it might break a damn rib.
Lucian catches me before I fall, his fingers wrapped tightly around my upper arms, grounding me. The heat of him sears through the thin fabric of my shirt and my breath stutters. He doesn’t let go and I secretly don’t want him to.
“What did you see?” he asks, his voice low and rough.
I swallow. “Someone - or something - is toying with you. And it’s not just after you.” His grip tightens almost painfully. “It’s after us.”
We stare at each other for long seconds. There’s something electric between us now, the old pain and new danger twisting into something almost unholy. My pulse drums in my throat. His jaw ticks. He finally drops his hands.
