Page 25 of Do You Even Hex, Bro?
"Of us?" Rowan's brow furrows. He sounds hurt.
"Maybe." I tilt my head, listening to movement inside. Something scraping across the floor. "Or maybe something else."
"We can't just barge into the women's bathroom," Micah reasons. "It looks suspicious as fuck that we're even standing outside it."
"So what do we do? Ask nicely?" Sean looks genuinely baffled. "Hey, flighty little witch who's hiding from us, please come out so we can smell you better? What's the protocol here?"
"There is no protocol for finding your Bonded in a coffee shop bathroom, dipshit," I snap.
Rowan puts a calming hand on my shoulder, which I immediately shrug off. "We need to think this through. If she's our Bonded, she'll feel the connection too. Eventually. Maybe give her space?"
"She has to come out eventually," Micah reasons.
I hesitate. He has a point. She's trapped, and if she thinks four strange alpha wolves are cornering her, she's not going to be thrilled. But something in my gut rages against the idea of waiting.
I press my ear back to the door. The scraping sound has stopped. Now there's a metallic creaking, like a latch being forced.
A window?
Fuck!
I shoulder the door open, lock splintering under the force. Inside, the bathroom is empty, and the small window above the sink hangs open, cool air drifting in.
"You've got to be kidding me," I growl.
"She fit through that?" Sean gapes at the narrow opening. "Damn, she's tiny."
"She probably took one look at Kill and thought he'd eat her," Micah says flatly.
I roll my eyes, already moving toward the window and craning my neck to peer out. It opens into a narrow alley behind the Humanities building. No sign of her, but her scent hangs in the air, potent as moonlight.
"We're not losing her," I say, pushing past the pack and heading for the door. "Back exit. Now."
We burst out of the Cauldron, ignoring Dax's shouts about property damage and confused giggling from the witches. I lead the pack around the building to the alley, nose lifted to track her. The scent trail leads toward the quad, then veers sharply between buildings.
"Spread out," I order. "Micah, cut across the science building. Rowan, take the north path. Sean?—"
"Look!" Sean interrupts, pointing. "Is that her?"
A distant figure sprints across the edge of the quad, hood fallen back to reveal dark hair streaming behind her. She's fast, agile, clearly familiar with running for her life.
The wolf inside me howls with recognition.
"That's her," I confirm.
But she's not alone.
Three figures pursue her, two men and a woman. All three of them smell like powerful magic. Not as powerful as her, but still more potent than the average student learning to cast on campus, and she's outnumbered.
The three witches spread out to cut off escape routes. The woman's hair is flame-red, unnaturally bright even at this distance. Easy to follow.
"Are those friends of hers?" Rowan asks.
"Does it look like they're friends?" I snarl, already moving. "She's running like her life depends on it."
His eyes darken dangerously.
The tallest pursuer shouts something I can't quite catch, and the hooded witch—ourwitch—changes direction sharply. She's heading for the edge of campus, toward faculty housing and the forest preserve beyond.
