Page 52 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

She growled in frustration. “You are so dense.”

“I know, Freya,” I said. “Iknow.I should’ve gotten a grip on myself sooner. I should’ve—”

“It’s my fault,” she said quietly. Her chin dipped, and her gaze fell to the concrete sidewalk.

“What’s your fault?” I asked.

Unable to keep from touching her—comforting her—I placed my fingers under her chin and gently lifted her head. Her glassy-eyed gaze met mine.

“It’s my fault,” Freya repeated. “I brought you back without asking. I-I should’ve tried to keep you human, I should’ve been brave enough to let you go, I-I brought you back, and you’ve beenmiserable,Walker.”

I pulled her into my arms, and she wrapped her own around my torso. I rested my chin on the top of her fluffy head of hair and took what felt like my first breath in days.

“I’m not miserable,” I said. “I’m sorry I’ve been pitying myself and letting the second chance at lifeyougave me slip by. I’m not going to do it anymore, sweetheart. I promise.”

She squeezed me tighter.

“It’s my fault you ended things,” I whispered. “I know that.”

Freya shook her head and pulled away. Her copper eyes were round with sadness.

“No,” she said. “It wouldn’t have ever worked. It can’t. Witches…”

“Witches don’t believe in love,” I finished for her.

She nodded. “Especially not Coven Mothers.”

Right. Freya’s greatest dream was to follow in her mother’s footsteps and to lead her coven graciously. I couldn’t threaten that. I didn’t want to.

I pulled her back into my arms and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” I said.For all of it.

“Me too.” She snuggled deeper into my chest. “We have to stop this.”

“What?” I asked. “Witches can’t have friends?”

The label left a bad taste in my mouth, and even my magic sent a spike of resistance through my body, but if it was all I could be to Freya, I would take it. Anyone would be a fool not to.

She sighed. “Friends. Yeah, friends are allowed, cowboy.”

We stood like that for a long time, until a group of drunken girls walked by and whistled. We pulled away, but neither of us moved to go back inside. Restlessness still churned my magic.

“What is it?” Freya asked.

“Something’s been bothering me,” I said. “Back at the gas station, the Rangers were there before us.”

“Okay,” Freya said slowly. “We were a lucky catch.”

“But why were they hidden when I walked inside?” I replied.

Freya chewed on her lower lip. “It’s like they were waiting for us.”

“Exactly,” I said.

“It’s a well-traveled highway,” she mused. “Maybe they find lots of unknowing journeyers there?”

“Don’t witches hate cars?” I said.

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