Page 61 of Craved By a Wolf

“Jus’need to find Hella,” he muttered to himself and blinked to clear his vision. He sniffed, desperately trying to catch her scent. “Have to be close now.”

He felt eyes on him and wobbled away from the wall to glare at their owner, a little witch with violet and black hair. She was quick to hurry away from him, heading down the cobbled road at speed.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, lost his balance and landed on the cobbles with a grunt. Odd that a witch was in this district. Had she come to see Hella?

Hope surged, the fear that she would have moved falling away as he pushed back onto his feet, straightened and held his arms out at his side to steady himself before risking moving forwards.

“Hella,” he murmured, scenting the air for her.

Aching for her.

His wolf was restless, so he told it the same damned thing he had been telling it from the moment he had reached the fae town in Fort William. They were doing things his way. Logic and not instinct was in control this time. He needed Hella, more than air, more than anything. He needed her. It didn’t have the effect Gregor had promised. His wolf wasn’t cowed by his words.

Why?

He spotted the familiar house ahead of him and finally caught her scent, and his wolf went haywire, had him close to shifting and running there. He clenched his fists and reined in the desire to use his wolf form. Logic, not instinct. He needed to be careful. He needed to approach her with caution. There was no predicting how the witch would react to his presence.

Actually, there was.

She was probably going to shackle him again.

Possibly kill him herself.

MacKinnon breathed through the momentary spike in panic. He could do this. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought a wave of dizziness, wobbling on the spot. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to do this, but gods, he needed to try. If he messed up with her now, there was no leaving her alone for a while to cool off and then trying again.

This was it.

Last chance.

His wolf side battered his soul, wild with a need to reach Hella and stake a claim on her.

Heneededher.

It had no effect.

He huffed and trudged forwards, sure now that Gregor had been talking shit. There was no taming his instincts so he could do this right, so he could be gentle and charming, not dominant and rough.

He chuckled and it grew into hysterics that had half the street coming out to stare at him as he drifted towards Hella’s home. His laughter ended abruptly and he glared at all of them, flashing his fangs as a hunger to rip them all to shreds rolled through him. Several of them were quick to make an exit. A few lingered, their gazes curious.

Understandable.

He glanced at himself in a window he passed, barely recognising the savage, wild-eyed gaunt male reflected back at him.

He wasn’t going to be sweeping Hella off her feet with his good looks anymore, that was for sure.

Kin reached her door and banged on it, hoping she was on the other side as his body grew weaker still and he had to brace his left hand against the wall to keep himself upright.

The wooden door opened.

“MacKinnon!” Her soft voice was his undoing.

Roused a fire in him that warmed him right to his bones as she spoke his name with surprise and a hint of relief, and his eyes slipped shut as he sank into the feeling that blazed through him. Home. He was home.

He opened his eyes and looked at his beautiful, blue-haired bonnie witch, right into her bewitching green eyes that shone with a warmth he didn’t deserve and in that moment he knew.

Heneededher, not because fate had made her for him, but because he felt right down to his soul that fate had made him for her.

That there was one woman in this world he had been born to love, and he was looking right at her.

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