Page 23 of Their Fated Magic

She deserves it. She’s one of them. I only trust wolves.

Garrick is the first to step in, of course, placing himself between me and Tara. Next, Arlys and Rinan step in, pulling me back. It’s a shitty feeling, knowing I’m losing control over my temper again, yet not being able to stop myself.

“You can’t blame her for what her people have done,” Arlys argues with me, maintaining his grip on my arms. “I think she’s shown herself to be different from her people time and time again.”

Rinan gives me that look. The one that makes me feel like I’m an inch tall. “All witches aren’t the same. You know that as much as you know not all wolves are the same.”

Garrick doesn’t say anything. He just stands in front of Tara and stares at me with murder in his eyes. Like he’s her protector. Like he needs to protect her from me, which he doesn’t.

“What about her love spell?” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

She peeks from behind Garrick, looking small and unsure. “Witches can’t do love spells.”

Of course she’d say that, because otherwise she’d have to admit the truth. She used her magic on us. That’s the only reason Arlys, Rinan, and I feel the way we do. Because of her damn spell that has nearly left us on our knees, begging for her.

“The hell they can’t!” The words explode from my mouth.

Garrick smirks. Fucking smirks. “There’s no spell, asshole. I hope you’re going to enjoy reaping what you sowed.”

Tara looks confused. “Reaping what he sowed?”

Garrick half-turns, pulling her against his body, against his body, smile still in place. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m just talking about yet another way this wolf is a moron.”

I try to leap at him. Arlys and Rinan keep me back, but my pulse is racing. My head is swimming. We both know damn well what he’s saying, even if Tara doesn’t understand. He thinks I’m really in love with her. He thinks I’m being a fool, and that I’m going to lose the woman I love.

He’s wrong. She’s a witch. Witches killed my brothers. I can’t… love a witch. It’s impossible.

“Maybe take a seat for a minute,” Arlys says softly in my ear.

“Have a drink of water,” Rinan adds, and I realize everyone is staring at me.

I look at each of them, all shifters like me, siding with a witch and ganging up on me for speaking the truth. I don’t need this. Turning, I walk away, not wanting to face them again tonight, needing some space.

“Drogo!” Rinan calls after me.

“Just need some air,” I shout back, because otherwise I think he’ll follow me.

I walk around the mountain base until the sun sets completely, and I’m sure they’re all asleep. Weary from travel and the betrayal I was dealt, I head back to camp, my thoughts swimming around Tara and the hurt look in her eyes.

It’s true I don’t completely trust her, but I’m starting to wonder if that has less to do with her and more to do with my own screwed-up past, and that’s a shitty feeling. I would never want to lash out at someone who doesn’t deserve it. I just wish I could know for certain if she deserved it.

Will I ever know the truth about the tiny witch?

When I get back to camp, the four of them are tucked in under their own blankets. The men form a perimeter around Tara. Something I don’t understand draws me to lay next to her, so I gently step between Arlys and Rinan and crawl into the blankets with Tara. Her warmth immediately makes me feel calm. She’s so comforting and soft; it’s hard to stay away from her, no matter how hard I try.

I watch her sleep, her pretty face relaxed as she breathes ever so softly. She’s the picture of peace. And faced with her it’s impossible to ignore the truth. I can’t blame her for what her kind has been doing to mine for decades. She didn’t kill my brothers. She wouldn’t do that. I know that deep down, even if it hurts less to cling to my anger.

Tara contradicts everything I know about witches, and I don’t know how to handle that, but I need to figure out a healthier way than what I’ve been doing, because it’s not working. I try to dismiss the thoughts of my own stupidity from my mind, and instead hold Tara tighter.

I close my eyes. But sleep doesn't come easily; my mind races on, wondering how I can hate all witches and be in love with one at the same time.

TWELVE

Tara

We reach the point on the mountains where the horses can’t traverse any further and stop. We continue a bit on foot to see if it improves, but it doesn’t. From this point forward, the terrain is rugged and uneven, with rocky, sharp cliffs that defy gravity. In some places, a narrow path winds around the mountain, so small that it would make it difficult for the horses to maintain their footing. In other areas, there’s boulders and fallen trees blocking the way. There’s no way five horses can make it any further.

We retrace our path, collectively aware that the rest of our journey will be on foot. Without a word, we go to our horses and get to work. I unload my pack from my horse and stare out at the path we have to take, hoping at the end of it, I find what’s poisoning the water. And then I leave the wolves behind, never looking back. The thought makes my chest ache.

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