Page 90 of Wishing for a Werewolf
Just as long as I know it’s real.
“You’re wrong.” When I step away, his hands fall from me reluctantly, but I keep moving. It’s going to be hard enough to admit all of this without him touching me. Once I finally get a little distance, I say, “The wish swap spell isn’t fully broken. I didn’t mention it before, but I made a third wish, a heart wish. I know I should have told you sooner, but it was too personal, too embarrassing.” My cheeks flame, and I want to press my hands to them, want to spin away. But I don’t. I stand still and let Rune see all of me.
“I made a heart wish, too,” he says.
There’s a pause, and I keep hoping he’ll continue, but he’s still Rune, still my big old stoic grump.
“Has it come true?” I whisper.
“It has not.” He takes a step toward me, reaching for me. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about that wish any longer. I only—”
“Icare.” I hold up a hand to stop him, my eyes searching his face, silently pleading with him to understand. I desperately want him to love me—I ache for it. But I also love him too much to trap him with me if what he feels isn’t real. “I can’t live with the uncertainty.”
“Then let’s get you that certainty.” His voice thrums with conviction. “Together.”
This time when he stretches out a hand, I place mine in it and hold on more tightly than I’ve ever held onto anything in my whole life. “Together.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Rune
“Lukendevener!” I pound on the castle door, big resounding booms that echo in the large spaces within. “Open this door this instant!”
Finally, the wood falls away from my hand, jerked back by the dragon, who wears rumpled clothes and a scowl that promises fire. “What?”
“We need answers.”
His eyes flick toward Autumn, who says, “Please.”
Luke spins and stomps into his castle, the claws on his bare feet clicking against the stone floor, his wings rustling.
I wave Autumn forward and follow as we head for the library. When we step inside its large central room, the wisteria trees ringing the space shiver as if brushed by an unfelt wind. Magic thrums through the air, and their lavender blooms turn the pretty peach of the first blush ofdawn.
“Oh!” My fire’s green eyes go wide, delight dancing in their depths. “What did that?”
Luke grunts. “Magic, of course.”
“That’s hardly an explanation,” I snap.
“The flowers react to visitors.”
It’s my turn to grunt. “They didn’t do that when I came to see you before.”
His lips pull back from his fangs in something only loosely associated with a smile. “They didn’t like you.” He gestures toward my fire. “They’re reacting to her.”
I tip my head. “Fair enough.” I like her better than me, too.
Luke flings out an arm. “As you can see, I’ve been researching your problem.”
The golden light coming from the bespelled windows falls across several tables covered in books and parchments. A chair stands shoved away from the central one, a litter of scrawled-upon paper circling the floor around it.
“What have you found?” Excitement thrums through me. I want more than anything to give Autumn the answers she needs.
“Nothing.” Luke scowls even harder.
“Surely there’s more you can find.”
He jabs a clawed finger toward one of the archways that leads off into the stacks. “I’ve searched that half of the library, and there’s nothing.”
