Page 45 of His Whispered Witch

A spoon?

He ground his teeth. No root, however ancient and venerated, could hold a candle to the fact that he may have lost his fated mate, and while hanging out here alone in the woods before had beennearlyunbearable, he had underestimated the importance of the word “nearly.”

He took a deep breath, surprised to feel sweat trickling down his face in the cool air. What was he doing in a pasture full of donkeys reading recipes when he might lose her forever? If he didn’t even fight for her, what kind of mate was he?

He knew she had an office in Silver Spring right over a coven full of witches. She had to have a home somewhere, too, right? Hopefully, that wasn’t next to a coven full of witches. Her scent was strong enough that the wolf could track her from her office. He’d find her and lay his heart at her feet and… Whatever the hell happened after that.

He froze when he heard an engine, heart soaring. It was her car.

His joy snuffed out when he heard a crunch and the engine rev. She wasn’t stopping safely within his gates with her tiny car. She was driving straight for him.

He vaulted the fence and sprinted around the cabin to see her little car bounce over the potholes. He ran toward her, and she came to a sliding stop halfway off the road.

“We have to go!” she shouted as she staggered out.

She looked wildly over her shoulder, and he followed her gaze, confused. The forest was quiet.

“We have to go where?”

“I have no idea, but we can’t stay here!”

He caught her up in his arms, and it was the best feeling in the entire world. “Why not?”

“They’re coming for you.”

“Who’s they?”

“I’ve been staying with a coven in town. You know about the coven in town. We’ve already had this conversation. But now they know about you. Which I totally didn’t mean to do, and I’m really sorry about it, but I was trying to get some help!”

He noticed the back of her car was full of suitcases. He peered in the front seat and gasped. There was something alive peeking over the dashboard as if it could understand this entire conversation.

“What is that?”

“That’s Oz. He’s a bearded dragon.”

Something in him clenched. “A real dragon?”

“What? No. They are native to Australia. There just lizards with delusions of grandeur.”

She had a pet lizard. She was an animal witch. Of course, she had a pet. “Why a lizard?”

“Because mammals almost universally live worse lives in captivity. And I can’t not know that, but reptiles, if you keep them well, live universally better lives in a cage.”

“No predators.”

“Automatic heating and cooling.”

“Bonus.”

“So yeah. Bearded dragon. Why are we talking about this? You have to pack. We have to go. They’re coming this way. With crossbows.”

He went cold. Witches and shifters had fought each other for a very long time. Instincts rose within him, and he tamped down the wolf. If he shifted and killed a human being, there was no coming back from that.

He ran for the cabin and then paused. “Wait, we?”

“Yes.”

He turned back to her. “You’re coming with me?”

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