Page 5 of Hot in Witch City
“Don’t touch her.” I pulled my fist back and punched him in the face.
As he recoiled, I pushed him to the ground.
Shouts rang over the music, including Gianna’s “What are you doing?”
Good freakin’ question. I’d never been in a bar brawl, let alone initiated a fight. My scraps had typically been attempting to defend myself from the older boys who’d picked on me when I was in the pack.
The guy I’d punched recovered from the shock and fought back. We scuffled, rolling over each other on the sticky floor, trying to land another punch.
Someone dragged me backwards.
“He’s out.” Gianna pointed behind me.
Diego and Nova rushed over as I was hauled away. I struggled to rush forward and continue the fight with the guy. Other bouncers pulled him in the other direction.
“What’s going on?” Diego asked.
Gianna’s face turned into a mask of fury. “Get your feral friend out of here!”
Chapter 2
Sebastian
The next morning, I had the biggest hangover of my life—not one from drinking too much alcohol, but from a night of swallowing regret. I peered at the spinning blades in my ceiling fan. Although it was December in New England, I ran hot. It was part of my wolf nature.
My wolf. Damn troublemaker. What had gotten into him last night?
An image of Gianna appeared before me, and I pictured her beautiful smile and lush curves. Too bad soon after I’d opened my mouth, the smile left her face. Her expression had been pulled into one of confusion, wariness, or downright fury, and all because of me.
Smooth.
I climbed out of bed and put on a pair of black sweats and then went into the bathroom. When I washed up, I stared at myself in the mirror. My hair and beard were bedraggled, and my eyes appeared tormented. That was spot on for the mood of the morning. While I groomed myself, I relived the mortification and inner turmoil.
Although I’d always thought finding my mate would bring about some inner peace and sense of completeness, what happened last night was anything but that. My wolf was wilder than ever and urging,go find her.
Enough of his nonsense. Especially if he was going to make us act like a primitive beast unfit to live in society.
After last night’s epic disaster, one thing was clear—I didn’t want a mate.
My wolf roared his feelings on that matter. Tough. I was the one in charge.
Bounding down the stairs, I headed into the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone else up yet. That was good—I was sure to be peppered with more questions about what had gotten into me last night.
While I prepared steak, eggs, and coffee, I thought about what to do that day since I wasn’t working until later that afternoon. What I should do was let my wolf out to run and burn off some of the restlessness. Maybe that was the cause of the recent chaos—I hadn’t let him roam free and hunt enough, so it was taking a toll on both of us. We’d go out after dark.
In the meantime, I’d do what I could to burn through the excess energy. After I ate, I headed to the gym. Physical exertion might help tear the mortification and regret of that encounter with Gianna out of my head.
Two hours of sweating with cardio and weights and finishing up with the sauna and a long shower passed. Distraction hadn’t worked. My mind was assaulted with repeated visions of her. How could I deal with this unwanted intrusion?
The only thing that came to mind was that I had to first, take care of my wolf’s agitation, and second, see Gianna again. That way, he’d see it was all a mix-up. She was just a hot woman who smelled good. Nothing more.
When I returned home, I had to face up to my actions last night. I knocked on the door of Nova’s apartment.
“Come in,” she called.
Once I entered, I glanced at the space. Each time I stopped by, Nova had put more of a stamp on her aunt’s apartment in her own style. The walls had a fresh coat of paint, a shade of sky blue. A hint of the fresh paint odor lingered.
Nova and Diego sat on the sofa, each holding a mug and staring at me with a questioning look. Nova wore red plaid lounge pants and a pale-blue hoodie, and her hair was pulled into a side braid. Diego wore black sweats and a long-sleeve gray shirt. Mr. Colorful, as always.
