Page 7 of Hexmate

Caden nodded, his eyes darting away from my bare chest. “Yeah, I just started this week. It’s uh… gross so far.”

“Then why do you do it?”

He muttered under his breath so quietly I almost missed it. “Money…”

I raised an eyebrow. “Money? Aren’t all witches loaded?”

Caden’s face fell, and he looked away. “Not all of us,” he said quietly. “My father... he’s not exactly supportive.”

Something in his tone made my chest tighten. I recognized that pain, that longing for approval. It was all too familiar. My own father was never satisfied no matter how hard I worked to fill the shoes he’d created for me. Living up to the title of pack Alpha wasn’t exactly an easy task, and he didn’t make it any easier.

“Look,” I said, softening my voice. “I appreciate what you did. Not many would stick their neck out for a werewolf.”

Caden’s eyes met mine, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Like I said, it was the right thing to do.”

We stood there for a moment, an awkward silence stretching between us. I found myself studying his features - the smattering of freckles across his nose, the way his blue eyes seemed to shimmer with an inner light. He was... pretty, in a way I’d never noticed in a guy before.

Shaking off the thought, I cleared my throat. “I should hit the showers. You probably have work to do.”

Caden nodded, taking a step back. “Right, of course. I’ll just... get back to it I guess.”

I stopped him, holding out my hand. “My name is Atlas Faolan,” I said.

“Caden Cromwell,” he said automatically, taking my hand. “You… You already knew that.”

“Yes, I did,” I grinned. “And now I know what wolfsbane smells like, so I can avoid that thanks to you.”

As our hands connected, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot up my arm. Caden’s eyes widened, and I knew he felt it too. For a moment, we just stood there, hands clasped, staring at each other.

“I... I should go,” Caden stammered, pulling his hand away. His cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t seem to meet my eyes.

“Wait,” I said, surprising myself. “Maybe we could grab coffee sometime? You know, so I can properly thank you for saving my ass.”

Caden looked up at me, shock evident on his face. “You... you want to have coffee with me? A witch?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even as my heart raced. “Why not? You’re not like other witches I’ve met. Plus, I owe you one.”

A small smile played at the corners of Caden’s mouth. “Okay,” he said softly. “Coffee sounds nice.”

We set a time for the following day, and as Caden left the locker room, I couldn’t help but watch him go. There was something about him that intrigued me, drew me in. It was dangerous territory, I knew. A werewolf and a witch - it was unheard of, forbidden even. But as I watched Caden’s retreating form, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt towards him.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I needed to focus. The full moon was approaching, and with it, the annual pack gathering where I was expected to prove myself worthy of becoming the next Alpha. There was no room for distractions, especially not in the form of a shy, blue-eyed witch, and a man at that. We’d be lucky if we even became friends.

As I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my muscles, I tried to push thoughts of Caden from my mind. But his scent lingered, earthy and electric, impossible to ignore. My wolf stirred restlessly, confused by the conflicting emotions.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the water wash away the sweat and grime of the match. Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow I’d have coffee with Caden, thank him properly, and then put this strange attraction behind me. It was the only sensible thing to do. The only choice I had.

But as I dried off and dressed, a small part of me couldn’t help but look forward to seeing those piercing blue eyes again.

Chapter 4

Caden

“How was your first day of prison?” my roommate asked the moment I walked through the door. He glanced over at me, his green eyes glimmering in the dim light, a wide smile spreading over his face. “Did the jocks give you a swirly?”

“No, Wild,” I sighed. “They didn’t.”

“Well, there’s always next time,” he grinned. He put his book down, turning toward me, the gold rings in his pointed ears shimmering. “Was it horrible?”

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