Page 56 of Hunted By Wolves and Shadow
My magic became easier to control as I practiced healing all the nicks and cuts Wolf managed to acquire while he was fixing some of the furniture and walls he’d broken. I began to suspect he was getting injured on purpose so I’d have something to practice with.
One thing I learned was that I couldn’t heal myself. Not so much as a sliver, much to my chagrin. If the cost of my magic was not being able to help myself, I could live with that.
No matter how much I tried, though, I couldn’t heal away the curse. I spent ages standing at the edge of the clearing, trying to will small wisps of Mist into oblivion, but aside from the ones that swirled from my waving hands, I had no effect. Nor did I have any effect on Wolf in his cursed form. We tried again and again, venturing into the forest so he could become the wolf and I could try to “heal” him back to a man. Nothing worked. It did result in lots of him getting naked, though, and I couldn’t regret those side benefits.
Weary from another day of failure, we sat together on the couch in front of a brightly burning fire, me tucked into his side with my legs draped over his lap. He was idly twirling a lock of my hair with one hand and brushing tickling lines up and down my arm with the other.
“I wonder what cost Grandma paid to awaken curse magic. It must have been bad.” I shivered, only partly from the gentle brush of Wolf’s fingertips on my skin.
“Maybe it’s why she was out here all alone,” Wolf mused.
“Maybe. She was always a loner, as long as I’ve known her.”
He chuckled. “You rhymed.”
“Hush.”
“A poet and a witch. You’re extremely talented.”
“And a baker. Don’t forget that.”
He dropped his hand to rub his stomach. “Never. That’s my favorite talent of yours.”
“Your favorite? Are you sure?” I teased.
In response, he leaned in to nip at my bottom lip. “Careful, witchling, or you’ll give me ideas.”
With every casual touch and flirtation, he never failed to make my belly clench and send butterflies soaring. “Maybe I want to give you ideas.”
“Insatiable. I’m adding that to the list. And don’t worry, I have plans for you later, witchling. There is something, though…Something I should have told you already.”
Worried, I studied his face. “What is it?”
“You know about the three witches and the prophecy.”
I nodded, but I wanted to hear the details from Wolf too. He obliged, explaining more of what Hawk had told me.
“It’s that line—the power will apply, To they whose hands shall shed the witch’s blood—that makes me wonder…”
“That’s you, though. You shed her blood, so you should have the power to end it, right?”
He chewed his lip thoughtfully. “I thought so, but there’s more than one interpretation for blood. Literal blood doesn’t seem to have worked. But there’s also blood shared between families.”
His meaning was immediately clear. “You think it means me? Because I’m related to her?”
“I don’t know, Em. I don’t know what I think.” The wretched look on Wolf’s face pained me.
“Well, if you think I’m the anchor to this curse, then why haven’t you killed me already? My life isn’t worth more than the lives of everyone back at the enclave.”
“Don’t minimize yourself like that, witchling. Your life is worth as much as anyone else’s.” In a quieter voice, he added. “You’re worth everything.”
I wasn’t, though. I never had been. Sure, I could cook and clean, bake for the market, and balance the books, but I’d never been more than that to anyone.
I’d never been seen the way Wolf saw me.
“Besides,” he continued. “By the time I realized it could mean that, it was too late for me. You’d already burrowed deep in here.” He patted his heart. “I could never hurt you, Em. Never again.”
No one had ever put me first that way. I wasn’t sure I deserved it, but I wanted to thank Wolf for the feeling. I could sense the cracks he had already made in me, in the walls around my heart, and for the first time, I wanted to let them crumble.
