Page 79 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

“Challenge him? What does that mean?” She frowned and bit her lip.

“He’s overstepped too many times. His threats and aggression toward you was the last straw. I’ll challenge him. It’ll be official, with witnesses. He’ll have to accept. If I win, I’ll take control of Scottsdale. If he wins, which I’m not worried about, he’ll get Crestwood.”

She was silent as we headed inside, not speaking again until we were on the couch with her head nestled against my chest. “So, you guys will fight?”

“Yup.”

“Sounds really macho and”—a long yawn muffled her voice—“silly.” A moment later, she was asleep.

As she dozed, I texted Waylan, letting him know to meet at Kirsten’s house in about an hour. He agreed. Too nervous about what was to come to nap along with Kirsten, my mind wandered. She was sleeping deeply, and that was after apparently napping the previous afternoon and getting a full night’s sleep the day before. Whatever she’d done with that witch in the city had wiped her out.

My whole life, I’d resigned myself to hating witches, but in all that time, I’d never really thought about how much magic they carried and the effects that would have on them. How tired it made them to do these spells. How exhausting it must have been in past centuries when witches were constantly doing things for shifters. Protections, strengthening spells, wards, healing… it went on and on, and the wolves had taken them for granted and tried to enslave them. It made me appreciate them in a way I never had before. That was something I never thought I would say.

When she woke up, I shared my thoughts with her, wanting her to know how I felt about not just her, but all of her kind as well.

“Seriously?” she said. “This from the guy who hates witches with a fiery passion?”

“Yeah, okay, maybe I was bitter about the whole curse thing. I guess, until you, I was never able to see witches as real people. I had this image in my head of wicked ladies running around, cursing and ruining lives.”

She smiled at me. “If there’s one thing good that came out of all this, I’m glad it gave you a new perspective on witches.”

One good thing? Wasn’t there more than one good thing happening here? Her choice of words nagged at me. Was she saying that she didn’t want to be with me after this? Or, even worse, was she thinking she was being forced into a relationship she didn’t want?

I wanted to press her on what she meant, but a horn honked from outside, ripping me from my thoughts. Waylan was here.

“You ready?” I asked, pushing my worries aside for now.

“Sure. Let’s get this over with.” She grabbed the jar with the potion, and we headed out to meet Waylan.

Kirsten and I drove in my truck, Waylan following behind. For the third time in the last ten days, I arrived at Eren’s security gate unannounced. The same guy from the other night stood at the gate. He saw me and blanched. He stammered, unsure what was worse: my wrath or his alpha’s. Finally, his shoulders sagged, and he waved me on.

“Pathetic,” I muttered. “Eren’s guys are so undisciplined.”

Again, Eren met us outside, his face purple with rage. “Stone, you’re a real piece of shit,” he said, stomping toward us. “Are you looking to get your ass killed?”

Three of his men flanked him as he stalked toward us. Waylan hurried to my side, the two of us keeping Kirsten behind us.

“Suck it up, bitch,” I snarled. “I’m here because you’ve given me no reason to believe you’ll treat my mate with proper respect. She’s here to give you that thing you asked for. For your”—I shot him a sarcastic grin—“friend?”

Eren’s eyes bounced from me, to Waylan, then behind me to Kirsten. His movements were always so furtive, rat-like. In all the years I’d known him, he’d never struck me as having the powerful and commanding presence of an alpha, even though he was one.

“Really?” The pissy tone had gone out of his voice. Now, he sounded like a greedy man snatching a dollar up off the ground.

“Yes, really,” Kirsten said, and stepped forward. She held out the jar to Eren, who reached for it, but Kirsten pulled back at the last second, a parent pulling a treat away from an unruly child.

Eren’s eyes flashed. Even I could see it made him look stupid to his men. Nothing but a little boy reaching for a glass of milk, only to have it yanked back at the last second.

“You need to watch yourself,” he hissed.

Kirsten only smiled. “You need to drink half of this at midnight, the other half at dawn. The next night, you need to set an alarm and only sleep between six and seven hours. Once you do that? You’ll be good to go in roughly forty-eight hours.”

Eren glanced back at his men before turning to her again. “I think you mean my friend will be good to go? This is for him, remember?”

Kirsten handed the jar over, rolling her eyes. “Whatever.”

“You’re positive this will work?” he asked again, the greedy smile returning as he cradled the jar.

“I’m not a liar, but magic isn’t foolproof. There’s only a ten percent chance it won’t work, so your odds are fantastic—oh, whoops! I mean, your friend’s chances are good.”

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