Page 358 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

He’d never thought he’d have a ready-made family, but he was rapidly getting used to the idea. And since there was absolutely no male scent in the house, he assumed the girls were on their own. But he had to make sure. He padded back into the lounge room as Tabitha gently closed the door and followed.

“Thank you for the ride, Jarrad. Should I come down to the station in the morning to make a statement?”

Tabitha passed through the lounge, straight into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and bent to get something off the bottom shelf. Her skirt pulled tight against her lush arse and his cock was suddenly rock hard.

“That won’t be necessary.” He cleared his throat as he adjusted his aching shaft. “We’ll come to you. There are some things we need to discuss.”

She turned, holding up a bottle of ginger beer in one hand and a Diet Coke in the other, eyebrow raised questioningly. “Want a drink? I don’t know about you, but this day has been an emotional rollercoaster with shitty breaks.”

Technically, he was on duty for another hour, but his constables could handle anything that came up. They’d understand. It wasn’t every day a wolf met his mate for the first time. He took the Coke, fingers brushing against hers, an electric bolt of energy surging between them, straight to his groin. Jarrad almost groaned.

And he wasn’t the only one affected.

Tabitha gasped, almost leaping backwards and a blush suffused her cheeks. She twisted the lid off the ginger beer and took a long gulp, her eyes trailing his body.

Gratifying, but he didn’t want to scare her.

“Thanks.” He moved quickly to the kitchen bench to hide the evidence of his arousal, but it was probably a lost cause. It was hard to miss. Maybe with the bench between them, she’d be more likely to keep him around for a bit. “Fires are one of the worst things we get called out to. It was sheer luck no one was seriously hurt today.”

“No, Luna is a klutz, just like her father was,” Tabitha said, a little wistfully.

Was.She said was.

“Luna’s injury happened before the fire. I’m glad Cole wasn’t hurt though. He’s really sweet. It’d break Luna’s heart if someone was harmed because of her.”

She rounded the bench and sat on the stool. Jarrad was intensely aware of the woman next to him, but he did his best to ignore it. She probably wouldn’t appreciate a man salivating over her when she was concerned for her child.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her Luna probably caused the fire. He’d leave that to her daughter, making sure to confirm his suspicions with Kyle before he came back tomorrow. “Neither of the kids would have been fine if you hadn’t gone in after them.” Thinking about her actions had his stomach in knots. His wolf howled at the danger to his mate and pup, but his rational human mind knew she could handle herself in dangerous circumstances.

“It wasn’t a question ofifI should go in, onlyhow.” She ran her hand through her hair, fingers getting caught on snarls left by her wild dash through the burning building. The look of surprise on her face as she tried to tug them free was endearing. “Anyone would have done the same in that situation.”

“What do you mean, ‘how’?”

“Well,” she answered, still trying to untangle her hair. “I was trying to keep my use of magic to a minimum. We know the Inquisition will follow any report of isolated magic use. They won’t attack us in our towns, when we have numbers on our side, but travelling? Moving away?” She let out a disgusted snort. “When we’re alone, they pick us off like flies.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest before he could stop it. She looked at him in surprise. He wrestled his wolf under control, motioning for her to continue. Jarrad had been called to a suspected Inquisition killing before, in the next town over. What was left of the witch… well, no one deserved what that woman had been through.

Witches may play with nature, and sometimes with free will, but monitoring was needed, not eradication. They could police their own kind. The Inquisition were zealots without morals who needed to be stopped.

“Dousing the fire would have been easier but would have brought more attention than a quick in and out that I could easily explain away. Only it didn’t work out the way I’d planned.”

No, it hadn’t. He still felt awestruck by the memory of that column of water bursting through flaming doors. The woman was stronger than any witch he’d ever met—and he’d met hundreds through his work. If any of those images made it to the public, it would be like waving a red flag over his town.

Thank God the Inquisition were only after witches.

Guilt followed, though it was only practical. If they were after his wolves, it would make protecting them a nightmare. Just his mate and he’d rip apart anyone who tried to take her. Jarrad’s wolf growled in approval.

“You did the right thing, it was just bad luck that the back door had been blocked off.” He reached for her hand.

It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but the moment her soft palm pressed against his, his wolf pushed his hormones into overdrive. Tabitha’s scent surrounded him; the honeysuckle now mixed with the ginger of the beer she’d been drinking. It was potent, calling him to taste, devour.

She wasn’t unaffected. He could see her pulse beating rapidly beneath the pink-tinged column of her throat. She leaned into him, lips parted, then he caught it—the scent of her arousal.

He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips gently but firmly to hers, giving her plenty of opportunity to back away. His free hand was locked to the bench; afraid he would take it too far if he pulled her close as he was so desperate to do.

She tasted of ginger and honey, hearth and home, and he was desperate for more. His tongue teased at her lips, begging her to open for him. When she let out a sexy little moan and complied, he plundered, tongue dancing with hers in a rhythm that promised more to come. Jarrad’s wolf almost leaped through his skin, canines lengthening to claim her.

And that’s what made him wrench away, panting. Though he couldn’t bring himself to let go of her hand. Tabitha’s lips were swollen, bee-stung with his kisses, but her eyes were dazed. Confused, even through the lust.

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