Page 27 of The Witch's Fate
The most beautiful witch. Who soothes my soul. Who accompanies my wolf.
Idalis’s spell must have been a good one, because even her presence does not pull me from the bed. I never forget that she is there—unless I am in that dreamless sleep—but my wolf is satisfied that she is close, and even he curls up to rest and does not grow impatient.
In one dream, I’m crossing the fields, but Idalis is not with me. Her scent is on the air, strong and pure, and I let my wolf nose it as much as he wants, following his lead on which way to go.
Her cottage is ahead of me, somewhere in the moonlight, and my wolf howls with the joy of an impending hunt. My muscles are warm and loose, and my heart thrums with anticipation. She’s there. She’sthere. My mate.
The love, the desire, the need to be beside her… it’s all-consuming.
I’m sosureof it in the dream. Idalis is my mate, made for me and I her. So mote it be. The dark skies are clear above me, filled with moons and stars, and I can see for miles across the field.
Finally, I see it, there in the distance. The cottage is a dark shadow against the darker tree line, as it was the night of the storm, but light glows from behind the shutters, outlining each window and the door.
The wind stirs, carrying the sound of Idalis’s laughter. I adjust my pack on my back. This is one of the dreams where I have it, then. That single touch tells me that it is heavy with the florals, rolled up into bundles. I have collected twice as many as I need for my wedding.
I’ve gathered the florals for Idalis so that we have abundant power for our ceremony.
A grin spreads across my face, and my heart ticks fast with delight. Yes. Ourwedding. That’s why I have left Idalis in the cottage and roamed the forests of Athica.
Our union is just there. It’s so close. I will be there in a matter of minutes, and when I open the door, the scent of my mate will fill my lungs, and her body will fill my arms, and then I’ll be able to mark her with a sealing bite on her neck under the full moon. Followed by languid licks and open-mouthed kisses as I fuck her deeply and roughly just how she likes it.
I lengthen my strides, taking up more and more of the land with each step. Nearly running to see her.
I have so many things to say to her. I have so many promises to murmur into her skin.
The cottage stays the same distance away, but I do not break my stride. I move faster and faster until I am almost running—and then Iamrunning, my legs burning as I move up gentle slopes in the field and descend the other side.
Still, the cottage does not get closer.
A pinprick of fear digs into the back of my neck, and the hairs on my arms raise in answer. I should be there by now. It never gets closer.
Is this some other spell, or curse? Has the land turned against me? Is it trying to keep me away from her? For I was never meant to find my wolf mate. But she is no wolf, and she is mine. I know it so!
A portal appears in the air ahead of me, open to my homeland on the other side, but I change directions and avoid it, going past. No, no, I cannot leave her!
The storm rages inside of the portal, threatening and striking down lightning as the sky darkens. No! I don’t want to leave. Not now. I can’t!
“Idalis!” I scream her name but there’s no sound.
Idalis’s cottage is no closer as I sprint, my lungs aching and sweat pouring down my back. The night air hardly stirs. It is too still. All the land around me is too still. Why didn’t I notice before? It is as if I am running through a painting of the land and not the land itself. A land like this should be alive with birds and insects and creatures in the forest, but it makes no sound.
Am I alone here?
I cannot be alone here.
“No,” I say aloud to the stillness. “No. This is not real. This is a dream. You cannot keep me from her! She is mine!”
With those words, the land comes to life around me. A nightbird calls from some nearby tree, and a small animal bounds across my path. Idalis’s cottage is closer, then closeragain, and in a matter of steps I am slowing to a halt by her front door.
I put my hand on the handle and pull.
It swings open, and there she is, standing just inside, a bundle of white cloth in her arms. Her eyes brighten when she sees me, and her face flushes.
“Ryker, my love,” she says, and a shudder of sheer arousal goes through me. No one has ever said my name like that before. With such devotion. There’s some other magic in it—there must be. It is a claiming, somehow. The air is thick with it. With peace. Even though we are not married yet, there’s something in her voice that makes me think we are bound by fate. Meant for me. Mated.
My dream-mind is not surprised by this at all. My dream-mind knows that she is my mate, and always has been. My dream-mind knows that a wedding ceremony is not necessary to tie our souls together, but it is a celebration that means something to Idalis, so we will have one, even though we are already mated. My dream-mind is amused by the idea of a wedding ceremony and enchanted by it, too—not because I have any special fondness for wedding ceremonies, but because I have a special fondness for Idalis, and anything my mate wants, I will give her.
“Mate,” I say. It is the only word that comes close to describing this feeling.
