Page 30 of Wolf Tamer

Mate.

I still haven’t told her about the bond between us, and right now isn’t really the best time to do so. But one of these days, I’m going to have to come clean with it. Get the feelings out there.

“Please just set everything down on the bed,” she orders.

“What then?”

“And stop with the questions.” Tasha shoots me a warning glare before continuing with, “I want to get a feel for this spell before I try it. Sixty seconds? It doesn’t last long. And hopefully I can continue to use it. A repeated use kind of deal.”

“Is that how witchcraft works?” I ask as I do what she wants.

“Reid… you’re not helping.”

She stares with distaste at the assortment of goodies I brought from the kitchen, and her nose tilts slightly in the air. Lavender, salt, some twine. I glanced over the spell once, but I have no idea how she’s going to mix all of this shit to make it work and be able to hide it from the others.

Magic, I guess.

It’s really not for me to say.

And if she’d expressed verbally even a hint of her hesitation, I’d have moved heaven and earth to find an excuse and postpone the punishment.

Yet Tasha insists on her ability to make this work.

So… we’ll make it work.

Impatiently, I perch on the edge of the bed and watch as she places the book beside the goodies, staring at them for a long moment before grabbing one bottle, then another. She mixes a pinch of this and a little bit of that in the palm of her hand while casting dubious glances down at the page as though double-checking that she’s doing it correctly.

“Have you, uh… alerted the other wolves?” she asks.

“They’re gathering even now.”

I don’t want to interrupt her further, but we’ve got to hurry, and she has to make this work. Would our relationship, budding and tender as it is, even be able to withstand what I have to do to her?

Probably not.

“Now time for the magic words,” she murmurs in anticipation.

She tosses the medley into the air above her, and I notice the twine now looped around her wrist and tied with a makeshift knot. As the herbs settle in her hair and along the line of her shoulders, Tasha reads the line of spell in Latin from the book. I can’t make out the words, and I have a feeling, even if I could, they wouldn’t make any sense to me. And I know Latin.

She finishes casting the spell, and an aura of energy pulses around her, flickering gold and white. What little knowledge she has, accompanied by her rusty magic, obviously does the trick, because seconds later, the energy dissipates and she gives me a curt nod.

“Come on, then,” she urges as she straightens. “Hit me.”

The things that come out of this woman’s mouth, I swear.

I approach her cautiously, as though she’s the predator and I the prey. Does she have something up her sleeve? “Are you sure?” I ask.

“I’m always sure, even when I’m wrong. But surprisingly, the spell worked. I… can’t really put into words how I know.” She shakes out her arms, her wrists flicking. “I just feel it. Try to hurt me.”

At this point, denying her isn’t an option. I’m wasting time. We’ve got less than a minute to test it out, and I know the others are gathering downstairs, my brothers among them. I’m distantly aware of all my wolves entering the house, but the more distance between us, the harder it is to feel them, and outside of a few miles, they might as well not even exist.

Cautiously, I tap Tasha on the shoulder. “Did you feel that?”

“You’re going to have to try a lot harder. Come on. Don’t be a pussy.”

I scowl down at her. “I’ve never been called a pussy in my life.”

“Maybe not to your face,” she continues with a grin.

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