Page 59 of His Whispered Witch

She shook her head even more violently. “There’s no such thing as the Young Coven. It’s already gone. They’ve woven themselves in with their conquerors seamlessly. Even if my cousins had, um, wolf mates or whatever, they’re already married to the milquetoast sons of witches.”

She ran a hand over her hair, which was a little longer now and softer, and he wanted to be the one touching it.

“Mine will welcome you with open arms,” he said.

“Because of you.”

He took a deep breath. “Yes, but not only that.” Other witches had come to the land and had been welcomed. Granted, they stayed when they found their fated mate…

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. He wanted her quite desperately and had from the moment he saw her. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe there was some kind of connection between them. Every time they touched, it snapped into place whether they wanted it to or not.

But also, they were two human beings who barely knew each other, and now they were stuck together. She had nowhere else to go in the world. He’d made sure of that. He’d ripped apart the security of her new life with his very existence, and she’d done the same for him. Hewantedto be stuck with her; she’d told him the same. He just couldn’t be absolutely sure he wanted that for the right reasons. And vice versa.

He finally asked the question he’d been chewing on since she insisted on returning to Silver Spring. “Why did you want the spell to make werewolves?”

“We might be able to undo it.”

The truck shuddered as he nearly shifted again.

She wanted to do what? Had he completely misread this situation from beginning to end? He focused on the fluttering canopy above them rather than shifting and defending himself from the threat in front of him, which happened to be his own mate.

“Is that your idea for fixing me? Just x-ing…” He didn’t finish on the off chance the wolf would understand.

“What, no! Never!”

He sat back. “Why the hell did you pick up a book with the recipe for werewolves in it?”

She bit her lip. “Recipe?”

“That’s what it looks like!” He pointed to the scribbled ancient pages.

“I was thinking of the snake.”

He gasped. Could she get rid of the snake?

“Your wolf is riled, and it won’t ever calm down. I’m sure you could try and make it work and negotiate peace, but it will never last.”

He appreciated the cottonwoods with their round, pale leaves flashing in the sun. He smelled the dirt and felt the rough seams of his jeans. He still had all his senses. He was fine.

“You think that’s possible?” he managed after another three minutes of indulging in the world.

“I don’t know.”

The snake was a nightmare. For the longest time, they hadn’t even known it was a snake. They just knew the pack lost as many kids to venom as they did to dominance fights. People had been seriously injured.

But could he actually let some witch muck about with a spell?

Not some witch, your fated mate.

“It’s not just my decision to make,” Penn said quietly. “Or yours. It would take every witch and wolf you could get your hands on and as much magic as possible. Nobody has power like they used to. I don’t know where the hell it went. We’re down to dregs.”

He smiled bitterly. “You gave it to us.”

She gasped. “That is exactly what happened.”

“And now you want it back,” he said flatly, unable to keep the accusation out of his voice.

“I so don’t!”

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