Chapter 1 Chapter 1

I walk through Aunt Mildred’s pink flat, taking in her smell and wacky style one last time. Gods, I’m going to miss her. I wish I was here to say goodbye, but I couldn’t get away without arousing suspicion. She was alone in the end, as she was alone most of her whole life. Cast out and forgotten – except by me. Unbeknownst to my parents and our coven, I kept in touch with my aunt over the years. Like me, she had the power of projection, so we used to have entire conversations sitting on a cloud somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, or the peak of Mount Everest. She was my favourite person in the world, and I’m the reason they kicked her out of the coven, though she never blamed me for it. She always said, “Willow, my dear child, they could have killed me, but your love saved me. That’s payment enough.” I almost died for it, but because I was only ten at the time, my coven spared me. Instead, they got rid of my troublesome aunt and ordered me to break contact with her. Once, about six years ago, right after my sixteenth birthday, and a month before my induction into the Crystal Rose Coven, I ran away and came straight here to hide. My aunt cast a protection spell around me, kept me away from prying eyes, but it didn’t work. My father found me two days later, here in this very flat. He beat me severely. I still have the scars. But it was worth it. Don’t let the cutesy name of our coven fool you – they practice dark magic, and one of the ways to manifest a fledgling’s dark side is through constant torture and abuse. You become so angry after a while that you tap into that darkness because that kind of magic is stronger and far more dangerous than light magic. In the end, you start learning it so you can punish the ones that hurt you – but before you know it, you are a grown-up, you’ve become just like the ones that hurt you, and you start doing the same to the little fledglings. After dropping my bags in the spare room, pink like every other room, I take a quick shower in the cerise bathroom. It has been a long day, and all I want is some food, maybe a little bit of wine, and a good night’s sleep. I realise my mistake when I start going through Aunt Mildred’s kitchen. There isn’t much in the way of food, and the little food she did have had gone off in the month since she had died. I should have brought food with me. There is wine though. I pour myself a glass and step out onto the balcony. The view from the top-floor penthouse is spectacular. The wind whips up my dress, but I don’t bother to pull it down. I should be the only person here. Most of the luxury apartments here belong to rich holidaymakers, and since winter is approaching, they’ve all gone home Inhaling the fresh, clean ocean air, I lose myself in the roar of the waves crashing against the rocks below. I open myself to nature’s power, feeling it radiate through me, recharging my energy, alleviating some of the hunger. I wasn’t aware of the man that walked out onto the adjoining balcony until he clears his throat. “Good evening,” he says in a deep, melodious voice. “What are you doing in my pack house?” All the alarms in my head starts jangling, and every witch sense is telling me to turn. Run. But there is something else much stronger that’s keeping me rooted. Something I’ve never felt before, something I can’t explain. Blushing, I grab at my dress that blows up around my waist, giving the stranger a good view of my white panties, and pull it down. “Your pack house?” I ask, alarmed and curious at the same time. “You’re a werewolf?”“Yes. So’s everyone else living in this complex.” So that is why the alarm bells are screaming. “My aunt wasn’t a werewolf.”“You’re Mildred’s niece?” I nod, keeping my eyes on the impressive specimen mere feet away, getting ready to attack me, no doubt. Werewolves despise witches. Hate them. They tend to kill us on sight. Not that I can say much about their disdain for us, we don’t exactly love them. His dark blonde hair flops over his brow, and light blue eyes pierce into my soul. “You’re tall,” I say, gaping up at him like a lovesick puppy. “Even for a werewolf.”“Hm,” he grunts. “Mildred didn’t tell you about me?” I search my memory but come up blank. I don’t think she ever mentioned that she lived in a pack house with werewolves. “I’m not sure…she might have. What’s your name?”“Kane Madden. Lycan king of these lands. And you must be Willow Jones, daughter of the infamous Daniel Jones, coven master of Crystal Rose.” Oh lovely, a fucking Lycan king. The deadliest, cruellest most ferocious wolves on the planet, and I am standing here talking to one like he’s my friendly neighbourhood soccer dad. “My aunt talked about me?” He grunts and nods at the same time. “Well come on, it’s almost time for supper.”“Uh-uh-uh,” I stutter. “What?”“I can hear your stomach rumble, and knowing Mildred there can't be much to eat in her place.” The idea of walking into the wolf’s den like a willing sheep to the slaughter is just a little too much to handle, even for a witch as brazen as me. “What are you planning?” His eyes flash angrily, but his voice is still calm and even. “I plan on feeding you.”“Why?”“Because Mildred would want me to look after you. She thought of you as her daughter. Spoke about you often.”“You were friends?”“Hm. Come, don’t come, but the invitation stands.” He turns and walks back into his flat without looking back. I consider it for about ten seconds. My rumbling stomach decides for me. I run back inside, quickly pull a brush through my windswept hair, and tie it up, find a pair of strappy sandals that go with the light yellow dress I have on, and finally raid Aunt Mildred’s wine collection. Werewolf or not, it will be rude to show up empty-handed. Since I know nothing about wine, I grab a bottle of white and red, hoping it’s the right kind of red and white. About ten minutes later, I knock on Kane’s door. He opens within seconds, almost like he’s been waiting for me right on the other side. The man doesn’t move. He stands frozen, looking down on me, a small frown between his eyes. His nostrils flare and he inhales deeply. “Mister Madden?” I ask, uncertain and more than just a little afraid. His eye colour changes from light blue to yellow. I didn’t pay much attention when my elders taught me about werewolves, but I know when their eyes change like that, it means their wolf is about to surface. I take a step back, getting ready to launch my magic at him when he takes a deep breath and shakes himself from whatever daze he’d been in. “Call me Kane,” he says. “Please come in.” I don’t move. The little bit of trust I had evaporated when his eyes changed colour. “I won’t harm you. On my honour.” I don’t want to do it, but some kind of unknown, much stronger force compels me forward, towards him. I don’t know what it is, and I can’t fight against it. He turns sideways, inviting me into his home. I push past him, my breasts brushing against his chest. A cascade of sparks electrifies my body, making every hair stand at attention. What the hell is that? Some kind of physical attraction? For a werewolf? Impossible. We are natural enemies; we repulse each other. “This is weird,” Kane mumbles. “What?”“No nothing.” He stares at me with those yellow eyes and lets out a low, uncontrolled growl. I should be afraid – this is the moment a werewolf generally attacks, but what I feel isn’t fear. I feel safe. And horny. Yeah, he’s right. This is weird. “Follow me to the kitchen.” He closes the door behind us, and wordlessly I follow him through the penthouse to the luxurious kitchen. It is much better and more modern than Aunt Mildred’s. Tiled black from top to bottom, the latest and best appliances gleam atop grey and white marble counter spaces. A delicate scent fills the air. I have no idea what it was, but it makes my mouth water. “I hope you eat meat. Mildred never touched it.”“No,” I say. “Meat diminished the power of her magic.”“She was a light caster, right? We didn’t discuss her magic much.”“Yes.” I put the wine down, and lean against the counter, watching him chop celery into very small chunks. It is mesmerizing, the way his long fingers handle the vegetables so delicately. He opens his fridge, peering inside. “I’m sorry. If I knew you were coming, I’d have prepared a proper vegan dish…but I should have enough here for a decent salad.” He is much nicer than I imagined. “I eat meat.” Very slowly, he closes the door and turns to look at me. His eyes are yellow again, and the power radiating from him very nearly knocks me off my feet. “You’re a dark caster?”“Yes,” I whisper, dropping my head in shame. “It’s not by choice.” I feel his approach but can’t bring myself to look him in the eye. Whatever else werewolves may be, dark casters are so much worse. He grips my chin in his strong hand and forces my head up, sending more of those weird sparks of delight through my body. “I don’t hold it against you. We don’t choose our family.” For some reason, I want to throw myself at him, get lost in those massive arms, drown myself in him. Again, I wish I paid more attention when old Nan told me stories about werewolves. Do they have the same magnetism vampires have? I can’t remember. “Open the wine,” he says and turns back to the stove, breathing heavily. “The white. We’re having chicken.” While I open the wine, I try to read his aura. It isn’t something I do often, and I am bad at it, but I want to know if I should fear him. It is much more difficult to focus on him than humans, almost impossible, and forgetting about the wine, I concentrate on him. I am just about to see it when he snaps at me. “Don’t read my aura, damn you, if you want to know something ask. I’ll answer honestly.” I flinch, surprised. Usually, people aren’t even aware that someone is reading their aura. “Sorry,” I mumble. “It’s just that…we are supposed to be enemies, and here we are breaking bread together. It’s not normal.” Dropping the large metal spoon on the counter with a loud clatter, he turns to look at me, his eyes flashing. “No. I’ll tell you what’s not normal. The fact that you’re my mate.”

Chapter 2 Chapter 2

I stare at Kane, my mouth hanging open. “The what?” I ask, just to make sure I heard him right the first time. “My mate.” The massive man only needs to take one giant step to stand right in front of me, his tall frame towering over my much shorter one. He grabs my hand and brings it to his chest, holding it in place. His touch is fire, nothing but pure lust courses through my body, only to settle between my legs with a throbbing need. “You are human, a witch sure, but essentially a human, you can’t feel it as deeply as I can, but surely you sense it?” So that’s what it is. Why I don’t fear him as I should. Good. I’m not going crazy. “I do,” I whisper. “What is it?”“The mate bond…The Goddess’s gift to werewolves. You can smell it too. Here--” he leans over, grabs me by the hips, and lifts me on the counter. Gripping the back of my head, he pulls me towards him --“tell me what you smell.” I inhale deeply; his scent combined with the sensation of our bodies touching makes me nearly incoherent. “Honeysuckle,” I say, noticing the way Kane’s eyes darken and how his breathing goes from deep and even to fast and erratic. I like this game. “Cinnamon--” I inhale again --“…and I’m not sure…something musky,” the smell definitely triggers some kind of pleasant memory, but I can’t pin it down. “I’m not sure…something special. Something important to me. But I can’t place it.”“Hm-hm,” he grunts. Without thinking, I bury my face in his neck, desperate to find the memory. A deep rumble vibrates in his chest, sending shivers down my spine, but I am helpless now, and can’t pull myself away from him, not even if I use the strongest magic I know. Kane wraps his hand around my ponytail, roughly pulling me away. His eyes burn into mine. The world around us closes in, stop existing. All that remains are the two of us. “It will cause you nothing but pain,” he says in a gruff voice. Will it? Then why do I feel so happy? Content for the first time in…ever. I raise my eyebrows at him, scooting down the counter towards. It is pure torture feeling these waves and waves of dizzy pleasure surging through my body, and not acting on it. Then I remember what he is. What I am. “Well, this can’t be right. A werewolf and a witch? What kind of fucked up Goddess do you have that will pair you with--”“Hey!” he growls. “I don’t ridicule your gods, I’ll ask you to do the same.”“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Finally, he lets me go, steps back, giving me some space to breathe in the process and turns back to the stove. “Besides, your gods aren’t much better. They must have approved our match.”“Do you think our gods communicate with yours?” I’m not even sure I believe in the gods, but this Lycan king clearly does, and the ever-present voice in the back of my head warns me to shut the hell up about it. He lifts and drops one shoulder. “I don’t know, I’m not a soothsayer. Your gods don’t choose your destiny for you?” I snort loudly. “I don’t think the gods care much one way or the other what we do.”“Take the wine to the dining room.” Does he ever ask anyone nicely when he wants something, or does he just order everyone around? I open my mouth to tell him what I think of his behaviour, but my strong intuition warns me now isn’t the time. Instead, I take the wine to the dining room as he ordered. “Glasses are in the cabinet by the wall,” he calls from the kitchen. This room, like everything else, is tastefully decorated with the most expensive furniture and art money can buy. It contrasts sharply with Aunt Mildred’s pink palace next door. Her idea of fine art is a picture of a cat painted in a vampire’s blood. The table is already set, so all I have to do is get the glasses. By the time I find them, Kane walks in, carrying two plates. “I know it’s rude,” he says, putting one plate in front of me, “but I just dished up for you.”“It’s okay.”“Hm,” he grunts and takes his seat opposite me. “Your aunt would have given me a lecture on etiquette and manners.” I smile. “Yeah. You liked her huh?” Kane picks up his utensils and viciously starts cutting into his chicken fillet. “I did. Very much. She was my friend.” I ache to touch him, want to comfort him, kiss him until the sadness leaves his eyes. Appalled by my desires, I grab my utensils and, like Kane, attack the chicken. I hate these feelings, but welcome them at the same time. I’ve never had them before. Not that I’m an angel, chastity isn’t exactly encouraged in our coven, but I never wanted nor needed, men for anything more than sex – and even those occasions are rare. “How did she die?” I ask, trying to divert my thoughts. The wolf looks up, the surprise clear on his face. “No one told you?” I shake my head. “Once you’re banished from the coven, you’re forgotten. You stop existing in their eyes. I didn't even know she died until a few days ago.”“Damned witches,” he mumbles under his breath. “I don’t know what happened. Why it happened. I found her…she was murdered for sure, stabbed several times--”“By a werewolf?” I interrupt. Gazing at me, he folds his long fingers under his chin, resting his elbows on the table. His eyes flash a warning. “No, Willow, a werewolf wouldn’t bother with a knife. She was murdered by a human.”“You know this for sure?”“Yes. Your aunt had been dead for several hours when I found her, but his scent was all over the place.”“A witch?”“Wouldn’t a witch just use magic?”“Not necessarily. If they want to cover their trail, they’ll use…conventional methods.”“Who would know…if a witch used that kind of magic?”“The council…a spell as powerful and dark as a killing spell will register with the spell trackers.” Why am I giving all our secrets away to this man? This wolf? It’s like I have no control over the words coming out of my mouth. “They’d investigate immediately. We need special permission to use that kind of magic. Killing spells attract the wrong kind of attention. A witch that uses one without permission will be punished severely.” He nods, his eyes thoughtful. “How did you find out she died?”“I have the power of projection. A few weeks ago, I came here. I had a vision," I shudder at the memory, "I wanted to make sure she was okay…I looked everywhere--” tears flood my eyes, and grabbing a napkin I quickly wipe them away --“in the end, I started searching the internet…I found her obituary.”“Yes, I wrote it. I had some hope that her family would show up to claim her body.”“I’m the only family she had. She died alone.” Kane leans over, resting his fingers on the top of my hand. “I’m sorry. Her penthouse is yours if you want it, and I found her will. Everything she owned is yours now.” I expected as much. I have no idea how Aunt Mildred supported herself after the coven ejected her, and she never told me. “I didn’t know the penthouse belonged to her?”“It didn’t, but she asked me to give it to you in case something happened to her…she said you'd need it. I think she knew she’d die soon.”“How did she pay for it?”“She earned it…in return for her services.” She worked for werewolves? That must have been so humiliating. Like so many times before, I feel the deep revulsion for my father pulse like an infected boil inside my chest. He forced her into this life. “She must have hated it,” I whisper aloud, more to myself than the werewolf, but he hears every word. Damn werewolf senses. “She offered, Willow. She was happy here, and we liked her…loved her even.” Blushing I stare into his light blue eyes. Gods, he’s hot. I wonder what it would be like to bring him to my bed. He groans, closes his eyes, and squeezes the orbs with his thumb and forefinger. “Please don’t look at me like that.”“Like what?”“Hmm,” he growls, “like you want to have your way with me.” I have no idea what comes over me. I’m not usually sexually forward with unknown men, let alone a werewolf, but I throw all caution to the wind. “So what if I do…try to have my way with you? Will you stop me?” He shakes his head, opens his eyes, and stares at me like he can't believe I exist. All the darkness of his lust and desires swim in those bright, intelligent orbs. He grabs the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white with the strain, “I’m begging you…my wolf is not what you’d call…civilised…when you tease me like that, you’re making it very difficult for me to control him.” I want to keep playing with him a little, but the poor man looks like he’s in hell. “Okay, I’ll stop,” I agree. “You have to understand something…the mate bond is…it’s like a magnet. No matter how difficult it is, you have to resist it. It can destroy your life. I have seen good, strong Alphas piss their whole life away just to make their mates happy. It’s a ridiculous arrangement if you ask me.” I didn’t, but okay. “So what do we do about it?”“I’d say we have to reject each other, but that’s not an option. I don’t know what to do. I already have a mate--” he must see the confusion on my face because he quickly goes on to explain --“I had a fated mate before…she rejected me.” He shakes his head, takes a sip of wine. “I needed a mate, a queen for our kingdom, it’s expected, so I just picked a suitable she-wolf to be my mate. We call them chosen mates, there’s no bond, but they get the job done just as well as a fated mate, without the added disadvantage of all those…irrational emotions.” He runs out of breath, and empties his glass. “Right,” I say, more confused than before. “So why can’t you just reject me? Get it over and done with, and we go on with our lives?”“Because if I do…I think…I’m pretty sure that it would kill me.”“What?” I spit the word at him. “How?”“You are my second chance mate…there won’t be another--” he runs his hand through his thick hair --“I don’t think you’ll understand…how do I explain it? When a werewolf is rejected, it’s the deepest, most profound pain… it’s like a part of your soul dies, and you can feel it dying. It’s very difficult for us to recover from that. A lot of wolves just wither away and die.” He stares at me, desperation in his eyes. It’s like he’s willing me to understand. “They die because they’re incomplete? They literally die of a broken heart?” He looks relieved. “Yes, exactly.”“What happens if someone’s mate dies?”“Their mate usually dies soon after. Unless there’s a second chance mate waiting for them. And yes, it is exactly what it sounds like…a second chance at happiness. That’s why I didn’t die…my second chance mate, you, were waiting for me.”“But you chose a mate.”“Yes.”“If you knew you had a second chance mate, why did you take another?”“I was getting older, and my kingdom needed a queen. I was in danger of losing my throne to my brother, and that little prick can never rule.” I don’t ask him about his brother. “So now what? Can I reject you?”“You can, but I won’t accept it. It has to be mutual.” I narrow my eyes at him, anger bubbling in my chest. “You selfish bastard.”“Yes,” he says nonchalantly and gets up. “You can do whatever you like, sleep with whomever you want, live your life however you see fit, have babies, whatever, I don’t care, but I will not mark you.”“But that means I won’t be happy with anyone else, right? You are trapping me in an unfulfilled life.” He shrugs. “Happiness is overrated. Who told you that you deserve to be happy all the time?”“You may find this hard to believe, Kane, but I’ve never been happy.”“I am sorry, Willow.”“For what exactly? For forcing me to live this half-ass life, or because I’m unhappy?”“Take your pick.” Shaking my head, I get up and follow him to the kitchen. “I…we can’t live like this forever though, can we? I don’t know much about mate bonds or fated mates or whatever you call it, but I have a feeling...it would tear us apart if we don’t accept it. You, more than me. There must be a solution. Something we can do.” What am I doing? Why am I trying to convince him? I don’t actually want to be with a werewolf, do I? But the way he makes me feel, makes me forget about the terrible thing I am…everything just feels right with him. Like I have a chance at a life with him. “What do you want from me?” he asks. “Do you want to be my little piece on the side? Hm?--” he narrows his eyes at me, --“do you want my mark? Be my hidden mate? Or do you want me to abjure my mate and take you instead?”“What? Did I say any of that? No! I mean--”“You don’t get it do you?--” he throws the plates in the sink, shattering them --“Don’t you think I want my mate? That I want to feel whole for the first time in thirteen years? If I thought we could make it work somehow, I’d mark you in a heartbeat. “But…you are a witch. I’m a werewolf. We can never be together. Your family will not allow it; they’d just as soon see my head mounted on their wall…and mine…well, forget about my family, my subjects will never accept you as their queen. It’s an impossible match. I don’t know why in all the hells, in all the realms The Goddess would do this to me…to you.” He turns away from me, leaning on the counter, his chest heaving, head bowed. “Kane, I--”“You should go, Willow. You are welcome to the penthouse. I don’t have a use for it. I’m not here often, it should be easy enough to avoid me.” I walk up to him, raise my hand to touch his shoulder, but then think better of it. I don’t know how he’d react. His outburst scared me – not so much that I feel the need to run or fight, but enough to make me weary. I’ve heard about werewolves’ quick tempers, but I’ve never experienced it. Afraid, confused, and hurt, I leave him there, even though every part of me, every cell, screams at me to turn back.

Chapter 3 Chapter 3

You can’t avoid werewolves when you’re a witch. From a young age, they teach us to hate and fear them, but what they don’t tell you is how to handle it when you are fated to one. I can’t be the first witch this has happened to. There must be some kind of record out there somewhere. Maybe there’s a spell I can use that will break this bond thing between us…something that will spare us both. I don’t go back to my aunt’s flat. Instead, I run from the building, ignoring the waiting elevator, running down the five flights of stairs, and breathless I sprint out onto the beach. Taking my sandals off mid-run, I dash into the surf and dive into the freezing water, trying my best to get the image of Kane out of my head. I want to wash the way he makes me feel out of my body. I come up for air, dive under a wave, and keep swimming. There must be something. Something. Anything. My mind is reeling, going over a thousand spells I’ve memorised over the years. I know a few that can kill werewolves, one that will interrupt their shift or trap them in their human form, and a particularly brutal spell that will rip the wolf from his body. Maybe that one will work. No werewolf, no mate bond right? My limbs are numb from the cold, and my chest aches. I turn around to swim back and my heart sinks. I am too far out. How did I get this deep so fast? Did I swim this far without knowing it? How is that possible? As if to answer me, a wave lifts me and carries me towards the beach, but almost immediately a current pulls me back out, deeper into the ocean. I swim forward, trying to pull myself out, but can’t. Shit. Nevermind Kane. I’m going to die tonight. That will solve all my problems. I forget everything I know as the panic grips me. I forget the lessons Aunt Mildred taught me about how to swim out of a rip current. I forget every magic spell I’ve ever learned – not that I think I can magic my way out of this one. I flip onto my back and stare up into the night sky. Maybe, if I’m lucky, a shark will eat me and it will be over quickly. I’ve always feared drowning. But this is what I get. It’s karma coming to bite me in the ass. I have almost made peace with the fact that this is my end, when Kane breathes next to me. “What are you doing?” Surprised, I turn my head to look at him and sink under the surface, I inhale and swallow about a gallon of saltwater, before I feel something tugging on my ponytail, dragging me back to the surface. Spluttering and wheezing, terrified, and panicking, I wrap my arms around his neck. Pressing myself against his warm body, I tentacle my legs around his waist. “Stop it,” he commands. “You’ll drown us both.” His warning doesn’t sink in. If I let him go, I’ll drown. Why does he want me to let go? Does he want me to die? Does he hate the idea of me that much? I just hold on tighter, still trying to cough water out of my lungs. “Willow!” he barks. “I’ll get you out, but you have to let go.” Finally, my mind clears and the more rational part of my brain kicks in. He wouldn’t have taken the time to swim all the way out here if he wanted me to drown. I relax my death grip on his neck, and let go of his waist. “Sorry,” I wheeze. “I can swim. You just startled me.”“You are already tired and too far out to swim back. Didn’t you hear me calling to you?”“No,” I say through gasps of air. “Okay, come on, we are going sideways, out of the rip current.” He puts his arm over my chest and flips onto his back, bringing me with him. I lie back with my head on his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I feel myself relax. I let him swim me out of the current, giving me time to catch my breath. Halfway back to the beach, I try to stop him. “I can swim from here.” He either doesn’t hear, or doesn’t care, he just keeps swimming. When I try to slip free of his grip, he tightens his hold on me. “Quit it,” he growls. Giving it up as a futile fight, I watch the stars glide by, enjoying the way the cold water washes over me, the enjoyable difference between his unnaturally warm body and the freezing ocean. I can get used to this, I really can. I can imagine my life with him. No worries, no pain or fear, no little fledglings crying out in the night. I shudder, and he loses his grip. I take the chance to break away from him. It’s a fool’s fantasy anyway. He doesn’t want me, and even if he did…no one’s life is ever free of concern and sadness. No one is ever truly happy. He doesn’t try to stop me this time, but he stays by my side, even though he’s a much stronger swimmer, until the waves spit us back out on the beach. I fall on the soft sand, rolling over, staring up at the black sky. Kane kneels next to me, a frown between his eyes, disapproval on his face. He rakes his fingers through his wet hair, smoothing it out of his face, and looking for all he’s worth like a model in a cologne advertisement. “That was stupid Willow.”“No one asked you to interfere.”“You would have drowned if I didn’t. What were you doing, just floating there? You were almost out in the open ocean. You’re lucky I saw you.”“Why do you care?”“You’re my…” he bites off his words. “You know, most people are grateful after someone saves their life.”“I wasn’t dying.”“Fuck, you’re stubborn,” he swears and gets up. He starts gathering his scattered clothes, looks at me, opens his mouth as if to say something, then shakes his head, and pulls his trousers on over his wet boxer briefs. He’s a remarkable sight. A god of a man. Every perfectly cut muscle glimmers enticingly in the moonlight. He leaves me on the beach and starts trudging back up to the complex. I roll over onto my stomach and push myself onto all fours. Even though it’s right on the edge of the beach, the penthouse seems very far away, and I am exhausted. My lungs burn from the inhaled seawater, and my limbs are led-heavy. Halfway up the beach, Kane stops, drops his head as if considering something, sighs, and turns back. “Come on,” he says, “upsy daisy.” With one fluid movement, he scoops me into his arms like a proper movie-perfect hero. Where does he get the energy and strength from? I know werewolves have remarkable stamina, but even he has to be tired after that swim. “I can walk,” I mumble defiantly. “I just need to catch my breath.” He snorts loudly and keeps going, carrying me up the beach, not saying a word until he deposits me back in front of Aunt Mildred’s apartment. “Lock your door,” he says, “it’s generally safe here, but…you never know.” He’s thinking about my aunt’s killer. “Sure.”“I have good hearing, if you’re in trouble--”“I’m not your concern, Kane. You said so.”“It doesn’t mean I want you to die…if you die it would--”“Oh right, hurt you. That’s what it’s all about, right? You and your fragile feelings.”“No, I really--” I step inside the pink palace and slam the door in his face before he can finish his sentence, making sure to lock the door behind me. Tired as I am, I go to Aunt Mildred’s magic room before I go to bed. I root around her baskets of crystals, talismans, and potions until I find what I’m looking for. Silver. A lot of it. My aunt didn’t trust the wolves after all. I can feel the magic she cast on the various silver items. Picking up a long, thick silver chain, I go to the guestroom. I just don’t feel right sleeping in her bed, and wrap the chain around the doorknob, before locking this door too. The silver, combined with the magic, creates an effective shield against the wolves. I don’t know if it will work against a shifter as strong as Kane, but he’s not the one that scares me. Without bothering to change out of my wet dress, I stumble to the bed and crash on it. I didn’t just come here for my inheritance. I don’t need it. I came to find out what happened to my aunt, and now that I know she was murdered, as I suspected all along, I plan on tracking down her killer…and when I find him, he will pay for what he’d done.

Chapter 4 Chapter 4

Kane's POV: I’ve managed to avoid Willow for a week now, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It helps that I am barely home. I have had one meeting after the other with two Alphas that are threatening to go to war with each other, and today we’ve finally reached a somewhat precarious agreement. It is bad enough when rural wolves go to war, but when those living in the cities do it they tend to attract the humans’ attention. It never ends well. At night, I lie in my living room, listening to her bustling around Mildred’s apartment, doing Goddess knows what. I never see her leave, though I do see delivery drivers come by at least once a day with food. Her diet is slightly concerning – she appears to live on pizza and burgers. I park in the basement garage, dropping my head on the steering wheel. The prospect of going upstairs is daunting. Every time I do, her scent calls out to me, and it’s driving my wolf, Dario, nuts. Night after night, I have to fight with him, have to fight with myself, and I don’t know how much longer I can resist. More than once, I’ve regretted my invitation to Willow. At last, I manage to drag myself from the car and make my way to my ultra-modern penthouse, which contrasted so starkly with Mildred’s. Her lifestyle was rather basic. As she put it to me once, “All I need is indoor plumbing, the rest is just a lovely cherry on top.” I smile at her memory. I miss her so much. She was the only person I could be myself with. No one knew me better, understood me better, than Mildred. The smell of blood and pain hits me when the elevator doors open. My wolf growls and gets ready to attack. No, not again. My mind goes blank, and I have only one goal. Getting to Willow. I run across the foyer to her apartment. The door is slightly ajar, and without any regard for my own safety, I rush down the hallway to the living room. The first thing I see is Willow lying on the floor, curled in a little ball, her clothes torn, blood pooling under her. A man of maybe fifty is towering over her. “What’s going on here?” I ask, keeping my voice calm and even, despite the fact that I want to tear his throat out. The man turns to look at me. He has Willow’s green eyes and auburn hair, but the resemblance ends there. His eyes are hard and cold, his lips set in a thin, cruel line. “Get lost, wolf,” he snaps at me. “No, I don’t think so. This is my property. I’m not going anywhere.”“This doesn’t concern you.”“Yeah, but it does. Anything that happens under my roof concerns me--” I spread my arms open --“and this is my roof.”“No wolf has a right to interfere in witch business,” he hisses stubbornly. “Except when that witch business happens on his territory,” I growl. I'm not nearly as afraid as I should be – I have heard about Daniel Jones, know how dangerous he is, but he’s hurting my mate and the last thing I care about is my own safety. The air around us starts crackling, grows thick with his magic. He narrows his eyes. “This is your last warning.” I lift and drop one shoulder, giving him a mocking smile. “Go right ahead. Coven master or not, I don’t think the council will look too kindly on you if you use an unauthorised killing spell--” Jones doesn’t look so confident anymore --“I wonder what they’ll do to the witch that starts a war with the werewolves because he killed their king.” The air clears, and I can breathe a little easier. It will be so easy to kill him. When he’s not using magic, Daniel Jones is just another human, but I don’t think my tribe elders would look too kindly on me either if I start a war with the witches. “Two weeks Willow,” he says. “I’ll grant you two weeks. Then you will come home, or so help me Gods, daughter or not, I will have you burned at the stake.” Her long, curly hair, wet with blood, obscures her face, but I can hear a muffled, “Yes, father.” Jones pushes past me without another word. “Kill him,” Dario says. “He hurt our mate.”“No. We’ll start a war.” He growls his disapproval at my decision, but I ignore him. I wait until I hear the ding of the elevator before I kneel next to Willow to inspect her injuries. Mildred told me about Crystal Rose’s brutal tactics, but it’s still a shock to see him do it to his own child. She moans softly when I move the messy hair out of her face. I bite back a groan when I see the black and blue bruises covering her skin, but I can’t stop the deep rumble that erupts in my chest. When I touch her, she gasps and tries to get away from me, but she doesn’t get far. Instead, she curls into a little ball and hugs her knees to her chest. It’s a pitiful sight. “It’s okay, baby,” I soothe, “I won’t hurt you. Let me see.” She uncurls herself and lets me inspect her. Every bit of exposed skin is discoloured with bruises, but I can’t find any open wounds that account for the blood on the floor. “Where are you bleeding?” I ask. “I’m not.”“Willow, there’s blood everywhere.”“Yes,” she croaks. “He likes that one.” She is hurting too much to talk, and I don’t want to cause her more pain, so I don’t push her. “Do we need to take a little trip to the hospital?”“No. I’ll be okay in a few hours.” Hours? “I can get our pack doctor--”“To treat a witch’s magical injuries?” Yeah, no, that’s a bad idea. “Then what do you need? What can I do?”“There’s nothing you can do. The magic he used…it’s designed to inflict a lot of pain, but it heals fast…that way he can stretch out the torture.” Sweet Goddess. Not that werewolves are saints by any means, but I don’t know a single wolf that would do something like that to his daughter. “There is one thing I can do.” Without asking her permission, I pick her up and carry her to the bedrooms. “Where do you sleep? Mildred’s old bedroom?”“No…I can’t stand it. The guestroom.” I know how she feels. I can’t handle the idea of going in there either. I kick open her bedroom door, feeling the repelling magic she cast on the room, but it doesn’t affect me. “What are you doing?” she asks. “You are going to sleep in my arms. It will ease the pain and speed up the healing.”“I don’t think that will work.”“It will. Do you always have to be so stubborn?”“Yes,” she says and gives me a watery smile. “Aunt Mildred used to say I’m made up of two parts stubborn and one part stupid.”“You’re not stupid,” I say as I lay her down on the bed, and kick off my shoes. “I am. I never learn my lesson.”“Come here,” I pull her against me. It feels good holding her in my arms. Too good. I am playing with serious fire here, tempting Dario and myself like this, but I can’t stand the thought of her suffering. Staring into her eyes, I trace the outline of her face with my finger, then kiss each eyelid closed. “I’m all bloody,” she mumbles. “Blood washes off. Go to sleep.” I’ve had a long day and several sleepless nights. Her close presence relaxes me, and without meaning to, I fall asleep soon after she does. I awake sometime in the middle of the night with a raging hard-on and Dario screaming that he wants his mate. Willow is awake, staring at me. All the emotions and desires I’m feeling are swirling in her eyes. Smiling, she lays her hand on my cheek and snuggles deeper into me, pressing herself tightly against my chest. My heart is beating so fast that I can barely breathe, and all I really want to do is mark her and claim her as mine. I wait until she falls asleep again, before extracting myself from her arms. As quietly as I can, I roll off the bed and sneak out of the bedroom. “No!” Dario says. “Where are you going?”“We have to leave. It’s too difficult being this close to her.”“But she is our mate.” I don’t answer him. There’s no way I can make him understand why we can’t be with Willow. I can’t do it. I can’t be this close to her, knowing I can’t have her. It’s too much. The Goddess is asking too much of me. After taking a quick shower, I decide that it’s time to cut my visit short and head back home. When I come back in two months to check on my family’s business interests and my city packs’ wellbeing, she should be gone. Things will get easier once I’ve put some distance between us.