Page 65 of His Whispered Witch

He hadn’t spoken for weeks when they’d first forced him into his human body. Getting lips, teeth, tongue, and vocal cords to line up seemed about as possible as juggling knives.

He hadn’t felt like that for a year, but suddenly it was back.

“You wanna get started on that long story then?” Malcolm asked.

Asher watched the bugs fling themselves at the porch light for a few seconds. There were always a thousand more here than in Colorado.

“Yeah,” Asher said but couldn’t say anything else.

Malcolm cracked his knuckles. “I’ll start. Once upon a time, a dire wolf shifter named Ash moved across the country, convinced he was saving his pack from himself, even though his pack didn’t want him to go.”

Finally, Asher’s throat unlocked. “Youdidn’t want me to go. There were a lot of happy goodbyes in that crowd.”

“Some ignorant people thought he was still a threat, even though he’s less a threat than anyone on earth, and he still moved half the country away.”

Asher rolled his eyes.

“And then in the middle of the woods where he avoided all human civilization, somehow, magically, a witch walked right into his life…”

“How did you know she’s a witch?”

“Because I was in the same cabin, not meeting anybody anywhere, and the universe sent me a photo of my fated mate. You can’t avoid her.”

“She doesn’t believe that part,” Asher said.

Malcolm threw up his hands. “Don’t worry. I’m not making any announcements.”

Asher snickered.

Malcolm scratched his beard. “Yeah, that’s where I run out of story. Somehow, I don’t think it ends with, and then she was completely happy and you’re completely happy and you came home to live happily ever after together with your pack.”

Asher closed his eyes. How he wished that were the story.

Malcolm cleared his throat. “Either she’s alone in the world, or she’s got a coven coming after her, or something else has gone wrong?”

Asher took a deep breath. “She’s alone. And she had a coven coming after her. Two, if you count her birth coven.”

“Two!” Malcolm’s eyes flared, scanning the darkness.

“Hey, I would never lead them here, and it was more of a get off our property than pursue her across half the country.” He hoped.

“I believe you,” Malcolm said, sounding totally unconvinced.

“That’s not the problem.”

“Lord, what’s the problem then?” Malcolm asked when Asher’s throat seized again.

Asher took a deep breath. Now they came to it. The question Malcolm wasn’t asking. The part of the story he’d sidestepped completely. “She doesn’t need the help. She thinks she can help.” Asher trailed off and rubbed his hands together rather than reach for the paperclip.

Malcolm cleared his throat. “Help train a horse, muck at a stable, cook dinner, deal with the flooded creek at the base of the land? What kind of help are we talking here?”

“Help me.”

Malcolm sucked in a breath, but his face stayed impassive. The dude was getting a little better, but Asher could feel the alpha’s perturbation and fear.

“Help you achieve as many orgasms as possible? Train the animals in there that are not horses?”

“Another long story.”

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