Page 24 of Their Witch Bride

“Someone needs to watch her,” Drogo whispers near me, his expression intense. “We can’t just ignore the snake in our midst.”

He’s right. Sort of. Although I doubt the witches’ plans included surrounding us for days, doing nothing, and then having one lone witch attack at night. A witch who is currently married to us. If that were their plan, then they’re fools.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” I promise.

He gives me an uncertain look.

“Get some rest. We’ll need you in fighting form.”

After a moment of searching my face, he gives a nod and takes off to help the others.

Reluctantly, I circle to the carriage door. My mind flashes back to the tiny woman within the carriage. I would’ve never thought someone barely bigger than a child could be so beautiful, and yet, she is. With eyes so deep any man would fear losing himself in them and a heart-shaped face that could fool anyone into thinking she was innocent, our new bride is nowhere near what I expected.

Being near her caught me off-guard. Her frightened kiss. The way she dropped the ring. People laughed, but watching her hands shake wasn’t funny. It was unsettling.

I know it’s the shifter in me. We’re wired to want to protect things smaller and more fragile than ourselves. I’m protective of women in general, but she’s twisting everything within me into knots for reasons I can attribute to my natural instincts.

Although I didn’t feel this way about the other witches, and they’re tiny too.

At the door to her carriage, I draw a deep breath and pull it open.

After a minute of staring into the darkened space, I slowly stick my head in, prepared for anything, including an attack. Instead, I find her lying curled up on the seat in the carriage, looking peaceful, if uncomfortable. I know from experience just how little the padding on the seat does.

Coming back out, I set up a space beneath a tree for us to sleep. There’s no time for tents. This rest won’t be long enough to warrant one. It’s unfortunate, because it’s certainly not in the least bit proper for our bride to be sleeping in the open with a group of men, but I’ll stay by her side. It’s the best we can do right now.

Returning to the carriage, I duck in and scoop her up. But before I can even move, her scent comes over me and my body tightens. I’ve never smelled a woman like her before, but I instantly recognize her scent. Lilies. They’re my favorite flower because they remind me of spring. They’re sweet and spicy all at once, and yet, blended with her natural scent, there’s something sensual about it.

A shiver rolls through my body, and my wolf awakens inside of me. Curious. Interested. And aroused.

I push aside the unexpected feeling. She is my wife. An obligation. A complication. Nothing more.

Out of the carriage, I’m struck again by how tiny she is. It’s like she weighs nothing at all. She curls into my chest, rubbing herself against me like a sleeping kitten. Only, she’s a beautiful woman, and my dick knows it damn well.

I carry her silently across the campsite and lay her down on the blankets beneath the tree. When her head hits the ground, her eyes fly open, and those deep pools of brown stare up at me with complete confusion.

“We’re going to rest for a while.”

She rubs her face in a strangely innocent way. “Rest?”

I nod, my body feeling tight, and slide down next to her. I rest my back against the tree trunk. When she shifts, her ass presses against my leg, and my cock jerks. It’s embarrassing. I’m not a young man who lacks control of my urges. I’m twenty-three. More than old enough to be lying beside a woman without my cock tenting my pants.

She shifts again, sitting up. From beneath her dark lashes, she asks, “We’re sleeping here?”

“Yes.” The word comes out more husky than I would’ve liked.

“Just sleeping?” she asks, this time more softly.

And I realize what she’s thinking about, which surprises me. Does she really think I’m such a lowly man that I would fuck my bride under a tree, with my men surrounding me? It’s insulting… although, I guess she is a witch. She likely thinks that’s normal behavior for us.

The hatred between our kinds is definitely mutual.

“Just sleeping,” I tell her, trying not to sound too insulted.

She lets out a relieved breath, which I try not to be further offended by. Then, she leans back on the trunk of the tree and lets her head fall onto my shoulder. She snuggles in deeper, her knees touching my legs, then seems to fall right back into sleep.

Despite all logic, I breathe her in again. Lilies. My wolf likes her scent. He likes her tiny size and her soft curves.

From across the camp, I see Rinan watching me from beneath the trunk of another tree. Part of me imagines I see envy in his eyes, but I know that can’t be true. Despite what my body thinks, we’re all on the same page about how to handle this little wife of ours. Marrying her was an obligation, a plan from our fathers, but we won’t be married to her for a moment longer than we have to be.

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