Page 33 of Their Witch Bride

Now, I’m scratching my head. What did I do now? “Why don’t you just take your pants off then, and I’ll take care of you?”

He stares. Hard.

Did I grow an extra head? I feel like I did.

“Just let me get into your pants, and I’ll take care of you.” Why is this so hard to understand?

He makes a sound that’s definitely not a word, spins around, and marches back to camp.

Fuck.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make up for your pants later!” I call after him.

It might be just in my head, but I think he’s rushing even faster away from me. Yup, I made another friend. Prince Drogo will continue to glare at me, and now Prince Arlys will too. At least with this husband I gave him a reason not to like me.

Way to go, girl.

I stand there motionless, my heart pounding. I’ve done it again. My magic is useless, and I embarrassed myself in front of Prince Arlys. He either thinks I did that on purpose and am a real asshole, or he knows that I did it accidentally because I suck, and the shifters will realize they got a dud of a witch in the trade.

Either way, I just made my life a hell of a lot harder.

THIRTEEN

Drogo

I sit by the campfire. The rough blanket beneath me does little to cushion the hard ground. The fire crackles and pops. The warrior next to me moves his hand around erratically as he tells the story of the last witch that he killed. I drink my scotch and laugh. We’re all happy and relieved to stop and set up a real camp, rest properly, without the constant fear of being ambushed. It’s good to be back on home soil and away from witch territory, even if we ended up having to bring one back with us.

A tiny, irritating witch.

“I put a sword right through the damn bitch,” Astro says, throwing back his head and laughing.

“Did she get back up afterward?” Flint asks, his lip curling.

Astro grins. “Not after I cut off her head.”

Everyone is laughing now. Getting drunk. Feeling good for the first time since we were sent on this fucking cursed mission. Some of the sentries near the pass have even stopped by, probably bored, but also happy that the passage is finally quiet.

Not that we think this will last forever.

“I never thought I’d get to see the passage,” Rinan says beside me, and his pale blue eyes focus on the space between the mountains like he’s picturing the thousands of shifters that have died there over the past few centuries.

Handing him my flask, I feel anger flash through me. “Our dads are overprotective. Telling us that the fucking passage isn’t for princes. Like we’re just supposed to send our people off to die there when we’re not willing to do the same.”

Even though my brothers went, and look how that ended.

He casts me that look that makes me realize my hands have curled into fists, and I loosen them. “It’s frustrating, but one wrong spell in our direction and our packs have lost their leaders. I get it.”

“I don’t.”

He snorts, then drinks. There’s silence for a minute before he says, “Did you see what she did with the metal? What was that all about?”

My back stiffens. The Valknut. If a shifter had made it with his own two hands, we all would have bowed in respect. A Valknut is a symbol for those who have died in battle. If we could have constructed one in that passage to give peace and respect to those shifters who had died for our freedom, we would have. But until now, going to the passage meant being under attack… not exactly the right place to construct something. Yet, it was a witch who made the symbol.

Why? The question had been plaguing me ever since. “It’s some kind of manipulation.” My words come out a growl.

He frowns at me. “She said the metal spoke to her.”

I humph and reach for the flask.

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