Page 6 of Taming the Wicked Wolf

“And now your turn.” I shouldn’t have spoken up, but the binding spell could prove useful. As she said, I would know when she was in peril and a dead witch would be a waste.

Emilia lifts her right hand, wiggling her fingers over the purple gem. Bright wisps of magic lift from the stone, winding around her fingertips, her eyes fluttering closed. The sensation must besomething.

With a flick of her wrist, the magic shoots out, settling around my neck, connecting us with a faint, shimmering magical chain. She closes her palm, and it dissipates, the spell taking root. With another wave of her hand, the final protection circle, my prison, disappears.

“I should have asked, what exactly am I protecting you from?”

“My ex-husband.” Emilia says, turning and walking across the room, pulling a chair away from the table.

“Is your ex-husband a gargoyle? A shifter? A vampire?” I follow her, glancing down at the spellbook. Is that a library book?

“He’s mortal.” She looks over her shoulder, “The sheriff’s son.”

Suddenly, her comment from earlier makes a little more sense.

“Stop.” I shake my head, “You are still bleeding. I’m supposed to protect you, I can’t have you dying from some sort of blood infection.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“Please.” I wrap my hand around her bicep, a strange warmth settling in my chest as she eases into my touch and allows me to guide her into the kitchen. The wound is pretty deep, which was likely a mistake. “You know, you could have just pricked your finger.”

Emilia glares at me, wincing as I run her hand under the faucet, cleaning the wound until the water runs clear.

“If I did, how would we have sealed the ritual?” She asks with a teasing lilt to her tone.

“There are other ways to consummate such a deal.” I can feel her anger stirring as she flexes hand, trying to pull it away, “A kiss.” I add, trying to ease her anxiety.

“I’d rather take the gash, thank you very much.”

I bark out a laugh, watching as she fights back a smile. A war for the ages.

“Pretty sure I have a first aid kit somewhere around here.” She holds her hand still, turning towards the cabinets on the other side of her small kitchen.

“No need.” I wave my hand over her palm, and the wound closes, leaving a faint pink mark behind.

“How did you do that?”

“My magic works a little differently here, it’s not as strong, but I can manage a few tricks.”

“Was cleaning it just for show?” She looks at me, a brow raised.

“I was serious about the risk of infection.”

And maybe I just wanted to touch her.

A crash sounds from beyond the kitchen, followed by a yelp and frenzied barking. Emilia hisses a curse under her breath, rushing towards it.

“What is that?” I ask, following her towards the hall.

“It’s my dog, Poppy,” she forces out with a glance over her shoulder. “Stay.”

The command crashes into me, the magic locking me in place for a moment before fizzling out. Whatever binding spell she used isn’t strong enough to hold me. It hasn’t broken yet, though, I still see the slight flare of the green chain linking us together.

Interesting.

She opens the door, and a fawn colored pit bull charges out into the hall, both front paws crashing against my shins and bringing me to my knees.

Emilia looks down at me and smiles, “Good boy.”

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