Page 17 of His Hunted Witch

He leaned forward so her back was flush with his front, and she almost lost the plot, but some deep sense of self-preservation kept her from losing herself in his scent. He smelled like the forest around him, wild pine and clean sweat.

“Go with the gait,” he said.

“You’re saying words like I’m supposed to understand them.”

“Go with the horse. It’s natural.”

“I’m sorry. Nothing about this is natural. We’re just a lazy species that saw this giant lumbering animal and figured it was better than walking forever. That doesn’t mean this is a pleasant form of transportation.”

“In thousands of years, we bred for a smooth gait and a smooth coat.”

“And then we invented a car with wheels and leather interiors.”

She felt more than heard his chuckle. “You’re a second behind Bonanza, which means you keep getting slapped by the saddle.”

That was what was happening. Every step felt like she was jolted in the tailbone.

“Lean forward so that you’re going up when he is, so you’re moving with him or even a little ahead.”

She was perched over a barrel-sized horse, and she was supposed to get ahead of it? How was Aiden even doing this? She had her feet in the stirrups, but he was just sitting on the beast’s rump with his legs dangling.

“I’ll speed him up,” Aiden said. “Sometimes it’s harder to go slow.”

Her mouth fell open. “Speed him up? This isn’t top speed?”

He broke out laughing. “We breed racehorses, honey.”

This time, the signal wasn’t anything obvious; the horse just went faster. This couldn’t be safe amongst the trees, but it didn’t seem to faze either of them.

In seconds, she realized Aiden had been right; this was easier. The horse’s gait had smoothed out, and she didn’t feel like she was being spanked by the saddle. She was also happy that Aiden didn’t let go, even if she was feeling better.

After fifteen minutes in the saddle, he brought the horse to a stop.

“What?”

“It’s the wards around our lands. One second.”

He clicked the horse forward slowly and took an abrupt left. They walked straight for ten feet before he negotiated an invisible U-turn.

“What are we doing?”

“Getting out?”

She closed her eyes and wrote:The magic, show me, so mote it be.

When she opened them, she was almost blinded by the intricate patterns that lit up the woods. They were surrounded, even above their heads.

“It’s like a maze,” she said when she figured out what was going on. They took another left and continued on their original path.

It was ingenious. Opening and closing wards weakened them. Her coven dealt with that by making them permeable, sacrificing security for convenience. These wards were impenetrable unless you knew where the entrance was.

“What do you do if somebody finds the entrance?”

“Anybody can close them in an emergency. My mother made them snap completely shut.”

“Yourmother?” Everything in her froze. “Your mother is a witch.”

“And if you tell anyone, I will kill you,” he said without inflection or heat.

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