Page 66 of Wolf Hunter

“Believe what you will,” I say. “It’s not up to me to convince you.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “It all seems like so… much.”

“In what way?”

“Well…” She swings her legs over the side of the bed and pauses there, staring at the most dainty set of toes I’ve ever seen on a woman. Who am I kidding? I don’t think there’s an inch of her I don’t like. “The coven hates you. I saw it when I met with them. I heard it when their head witch approached me for this job. I understand the hatred because I felt it too.”

I do not miss the past tense of that statement, but I keep the thoughts to myself along with the small rueful grin. Thank god for the darkness.

“But the way it was presented to me, their hatred stemmed from fear. They are terrified of the sacrifices. They are terrified of you and your wolves. The danger you present to them. They think the arrangement is unfair,” she adds.

“If I had it my way, I’d do away with the arrangement altogether. It doesn’t benefit anyone anymore and the archaic sacrifice—” I’ve said too much.

It isn’t up to Tasha to come up with a better solution, and tossing all of this on her now seems like a burden she was never meant to bear.

“Witches killing—I still don’t understand how it’s possible.” She chews on her bottom lip and pushes loose hair out of her face.

There are more things possible than she realizes, and the further along this path we tread, the more it seems the unlikely is not only likely but happening.

“I don’t trust anyone,” I say. “Witches. Wolves… People play both sides all the time to get what they want. But if you don’t believe me, then you can ask the witches yourself. See what kind of answers you get.”

She shoots me a look that says she already knows. Probably better than I do, considering she’d been raised with the coven until her parents died. At least, that’s what I thought. Maybe not.

“The longer we go, the further we get from where we started, and the more confusing this all seems. Yet we’re not moving forward. It’s almost like we’re peeling away the layers just to get nowhere.”

“It’s not nowhere,” I argue. Shifting closer to her, I place my hand on her thigh just above the knee, with my thumb trailing a mark. Her spine straightens. No matter what kind of situation we’re in, I know I’ll treasure this moment. And the fact that she actually wants me.

Tasha leans back a little until her body presses against mine, as though we both missed the contact.

“It is nowhere. We’ve both been prisoners for too damn long. You to your father, me to my mind, to my obligations and guilt. A part of me thought working with you might clear away some of the shadows,” she mutters.

“We might have been prisoners, but we’ve found each other now,” I say.

“Do you really think it matters?”

I sigh. “I’m not sure. I’m still learning, and I’m still doing my best to try to make good decisions.”

“I think we can both agree the sex wasn’t exactly a good decision,” she replies.

“I think it might have been the best decision I’ve ever made.”

My gaze shifts to the window and the view out there, the snow covering every tree branch, every hill, and the clouds slowly moving to cover the moon and stars.

For now, I’ll hold her in my arms. For as long as she’ll have me.

But I know that when she’s gone, the ache I feel for her will never go away. No matter what happens from here, I’ll want her. I’ll want her pinned underneath me and begging for more. I’ll want her sharp tongue and her sharper wit. Her ability to see through the inevitable bullshit of politics and the people around us.

My brothers think this is sex, and on some level, it is. A desperate desire for her flesh. But it’s also so much more.

I force myself to close my eyes and simply be with her. I won’t take anything from her tonight that she wouldn’t want to give me, and tomorrow I’ll figure things out.

She groans, turning to face me and running her fingers through my hair until I want to whine. “I’m just hoping that’s enough—us finding each other, I mean.”

“Our business isn’t done. I think we both recognize the fact. But our partnership will falter if we don’t trust each other, and you will never see me clearly unless you find out from the witches themselves.” I draw in a deep breath, knowing what I have to do next but not liking it one bit. “Ask them about the wards and what they know about my mother. Ask them what’s really been going on with the Redcliff Pack, and see if you can get some of your answers there.”

I must be an idiot for even making the proposition. And no matter how badly it hurts, I know it’s the right one.

“Ha. You’re never going to let me go.”

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