Page 30 of Do You Even Hex, Bro?
All our gazes snap toward the mansion as movement flickers behind one of the first-floor windows. For a split second, I glimpse a shadow ducking back into shadows.
My heart stutters. Even that brief glimpse affects me physically. She's real. She's in our house. Our Bonded.
Ourmate.
"What business do you have with her?" I demand, keeping my voice controlled despite the wolf raging beneath my skin.
Kyle—typical douchecanoe name—straightens, adjusting his expression into something more diplomatic. "She belongs to our coven. We're here to bring her home."
Belongs?Sean's thoughts explode with outrage.
"She doesn't seem interested in going with you," I observe, nodding toward the house where she's hiding from them.
"It's complicated," Kyle says with rehearsed patience. "Regina is going through a... difficult phase. She's not thinking clearly."
Regina.
The center of our world's name is Regina.
My heart fuckingsoars.
"If she's hiding from you, maybe you should respect that," I suggest, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
"You don't understand." Kyle's tone shifts to condescension that makes my hands itch to shift back to claws. "Regina is bonded to our coven. She's our Thirteenth. The magical balance requires her return. This isn't just about preference."
Thirteenth.
The term carries heavy magical significance. In traditional covens, the thirteenth member serves as an anchor, a focal point for collective power. Often a position given to the most powerful practitioner.
This complicates shit.
Forthem.
It's irrelevant to us whether she's their Thirteenth, or some low-level witch who couldn't cast her way out of a paper bag.
She's our mate.
"She came to us," I state simply. The universe's choice seems clear enough to me.
"She doesn't know you," the blond man interjects. "She ran from your pack at the Cauldron, remember? We saw that part."
A fair point, though it stings. She did flee from us. But I'm pretty sure she was already running when we encountered her. Frightened prey doesn't distinguish between predators.
"Enough discussion," Kyle says, taking a step toward the house. "We're collecting Regina and leaving."
Killian's snarl vibrates through the ground beneath my feet. The black wolf's ice-blue eyes burn with fury.
"She's not going anywhere with you," I translate, though Killian's meaning is perfectly clear without words.
"She's our Bonded," Kyle insists, voice rising. "You wolves have no right to her."
The words hit me like a punch straight to the gut. Their Bonded. The term echoes our own claim, the very thing we've been seeking. Sadie's spell led us to someone already bound?
But no. Something doesn't fit. The terror in her scent when fleeing these people. The desperation in her movements as she broke into our house rather than face them. That's not how a witch treats her coven. Not a coven that deserves her, at any rate.
I meet Killian's gaze, seeing my own certainty reflected there. Whatever relationship exists between Regina and these witches, it's not one of mutual respect and care.
"She's in rough shape," I observe coldly. "Magically depleted. Physically exhausted. Injured. Running in terror. If that's how you treat your Bonded, you don't deserve her."
