Page 188 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

All three males blinked at her.

‘But, we’re not here to help him with his visions or talk to him about them. That’s for Iris and Dad to do,’ Luke finally said.

‘Yeah. We’re just his guard,’ her brother added.

‘And his friends,’ she said, stepping forward and poking him in the chest. ‘You’re supposed to see a cry for help when it smacks you in the face and then backhands you across the head. He. Needed. You. To. Be. His. Friends. Today.’ Punctuated with a finger jab in each of their too big puffed up muscly chests. Her finger hurt—Luke’s chest was hard—but she didn’t care, Goddess damn it.

A shit-eating smile plastered itself over her brother’s idiot face. ‘Is that what you were doing, Poison Ivy?’

Agh! She hated that name. But rather than letting him see how much his calling her that pissed her off, she put her hands on her hips and said, ‘Yes. Because I’m a nice person who is concerned about our only Pack Warlock. I want to make his life easier, not harder, you morons. Maybe you should think of giving that a try.’

‘But …’ Jackson said. ‘We didn’t do anything.’

‘No, you didn’t. And that’s the problem.’

Jackson got a look on his face that made her want to slap him. ‘I think your sister is sweet on the warlock, Stellan.’

‘I think she is too, Jackson. Poison Ivy and the warlock sitting in a tree—’

The slap rang out in the air before she even knew she’d moved her hand. She stared at the imprint of her fingers on her brother’s face, the shocked expression replaced by one of confused hurt that made her feel like an absolute dick. But then the expression morphed into one of embarrassed anger.

‘What the fuck, Ivy,’ he said, touching his cheek. ‘How am I supposed to explain this to the parental units?’

Despite the fact he could be a know-it-all twenty-five-year-old git, she knew her brother wouldn’t rat her out, even though he was embarrassed she’d smacked him one in front of his friends. She huffed out a laugh. ‘As if. Besides, you deserved it.’

‘Why? Because I sang a stupid ditty?’

‘Yes. It’s disrespectful to our Pack Warlock. Mum and Dad will tell you so and you’ll be in more trouble than I would for hitting you.’

‘I was just having a bit of fun.’

She glared at him. Fun to him, cruel to her. Not that he knew the full reason why. Not that he or anyone else could ever know the full reason why.

They’d tell her she must be wrong. They’d make sure she never let her wolf reach out to Paul and make the mating connection. They had plans for him. Plans that didn’t include him mating with some maternal female. Years ago, she’d heard Iris and David—their Alpha—laying out their plans one night around the fire after they thought everyone else had gone to bed. But now it was no longer a secret. Everyone knew. They needed new witch blood to restart their coven. Iris and David had organised for Paul to meet various witches from other packs they were aligned with. There was talk that one of the Pack McClune witches was proving to be in the running for the binding. Powerful and talented, she was just the right choice to strengthen their pack and re-invigorate their strangely dwindling coven.

Her wolf growled at the thought of Paul loving someone else.

There’s nothing we can do,she whispered to her wolf inside her mind.It’s for the good of the pack.

She rubbed at her chest again, the ache throbbing anew even as her wolf subsided, knowing she was right.

She’d have to leave when Paul handfasted with the McClune witch. She couldn’t stay around and watch the man who was meant to be her mate bond with someone else. Which he could do. A mating didn’t work for the magical and humans in the same way it did for the Were. They got to meet and date and fall in love and choose each other. He was not bound to her unless she pulled on those strings. But she had no right to pull on those strings.

For the good of the pack, she had to leave him alone.

Stellan, tossing his floppy fringe off his brow in that affected way that usually made her want to snort-laugh, was now complaining about what lie to tell everyone about the slap mark on his cheek. Rather than giving in to her maternal wolf’s need to make him feel better, she let her pain have free rein and snapped, ‘I don’t know, Stellan. Maybe you should tell them Mary-Louisa didn’t like the way you fondled her breasts. She hates the way you pinch her nipples, you know.’

And on the sound of a gasp and a burst of laughter from Luke and Jackson, she took off. She knew she’d be even faster if she pulled her change around her and gave in to her wolf’s need to run free, but if Paul needed her to pull him out of a vision, he wouldn’t be happy about it if she had no clothes on. Having lived with the pack all his life, she would have thought he’d be used to the casual nudity of the Were when they changed from wolf to their human form. But he always ran the other way when she made the change when he was around.

Her wolf scratched at her mind, understanding why she couldn’t let it out to make the run, but offering a bit more of itself so she could run faster. She let her wolf slip its energy into her muscles a little more and picked up speed. One of the fastest runners in their pack, the only one who could catch her would be Luke, but he was still too busy laughing his arse off at her brother’s shock and embarrassment.

Served him right.

Served them all right if they got in trouble for letting Paul go off like that.

Well, if they weren’t going to look for him, she would. She might not be able to bond to him, but she could take care of him in the way her maternal side demanded. She would find him and make sure he was okay, even if she had to do so from afar.

She could still feel the ache of him inside her, pulling at her, showing her the way. Except, the ache had changed, had become desperate.

She ran faster. She had to get to him before the desperation pulled him even further into his dark funk. She wasn’t sure what she could do for him, but she could make it so he didn’t feel so alone. At least she could do that.

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