Page 44 of Waltzing With Witches

I cross my arms and glare at my old friend.

He lifts both hands with a laugh. “Alright, point taken. I need to grab lunch and get to the Hollow.” He gives me a wry look. “We’ve brought my father, Vikand, with us. When we left to come here, he was in a huff about not having room for his books.”

Richard sighs. “I think we’ll have to move him to another spot. I can’t magic up fifteen bookshelves.”

Arkan winks again.

“Send him to the Annabelle,” I say. “Although, on second thought, she’s a bit testy lately.”

Arkan beams. “Catherine’s still here in Ever, if I’m not mistaken?”

Hana glances up at her mate with a soft smile.

I manage to get everybody out the door, but Richard lingers behind, both hands slung into his pockets.

“What is it?” I bark.

He gives me a knowing look. “You okay with all of this?”

I cross my arms. “You’ll have to be more specific, alpha.”

He sighs. “Everything. Another Keeper. The Keeper’s wife. Morgan living under the same roof as you?” His eyes soften. “How are you doing?”

I grit my teeth, my fangs descending as emotion rocks me.

“It’s not ideal,” I mutter. “I’m out of dulling potion, and while Moira agreed to send more, she hasn’t done it.” I look up at him. “My emotions have been a challenge to manage.”

He nods, looking at the castle around us. After a long moment, he returns his steely gaze to me. “Perhaps it’s for the best, old friend. Your mate is wonderful and powerful. She’s a lot like you, in many ways.”

“I can’t.” My voice breaks as the reality of that crashes down on me. “It’s killing me not to touch her, Richard. But I can’t.”

His expression becomes stern. “I don’t usually meddle in your personal life, but there’s a reason all Keepers are required to marry or mate. Look at Arkan.” He waves toward the front door. “He looks blissfully happy. Their partnership makes him better. That could be you.” He falls silent, staring at me in that alpha way that makes lesser men cower.

I lift my chin. “Thank you for your insight, alpha. Is that all?”

He cocks his head to the side, eyes roving my face as he assesses me. I wonder what he thinks he sees. A stubborn, cruel Keeper who refuses to do what he knows he should?

Perhaps.

But my duty is to keep my monsters safe—including Morgan Hector.

And the only way she can be safe is if she stays far, far away from me.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MORGAN

Irev the bike toward the castle, anxious to get home. What I saw on the VHS replays over and over in a horrifying loop in my brain. I’m going to have fucking nightmares about it, I know it. And if I didn’t already hate Evenia for being such a horrible woman, my hatred is now bone-deep, sunk into my marrow like a cancer.

How could she force him to do that? She stole me from him in every possible way. She took something he wasn’t willing to give, and now he thinks he’s totally broken. Shit, maybe he is totally broken.

Wren’s right—none of this excuses his cold behavior toward me for the last month—but I understand it a little more. He was right when he said he tried to drive me away. But fate seems to have other plans, because the harder he pushes, the harder circumstance, and buildings, seem to shove us together.

I don’t know how I feel about that, but at the very least, we need to have a conversation about it. We need all the cards laid out on the table.

When I pull up in front of the castle, the stones in the round turrets spin in place.

“Hello to you too,” I murmur, smiling up at the rocky black walls.

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