Page 88 of Howl You Doin?
“Anything you’re experiencing, you need to tell me. Connor has been healed by my magic, meaning whatever effects passed to him, will affect you too.”
I blink, all fight leaving my body.
I make my way back to the couch, comfort flooding through my core when Connor draws me to his side to wrap an arm over my shoulder. I sense he needs to touch me, and I lean into him and let the weight of his arm anchor my emotions.
The witch meets my gaze. “There is no way of knowing how much of your experience as a shifter will mirror that of the wolves, or something else entirely. You, after all, are very different.”
“How different?” I murmur, turning to pin Connor with a look that says,What the fuck?!
“To save him, I was forced to use magic to heal him. It was that or let him die. In saving his life, some of his would-be wolf traits were changed. For all the thanks he gives me,” she says, her business-like tone turning peevish.
“You turned wolfsbane into Viagra,” Connor gripes, and my eyes turn to saucers.
Wolfsbane is legit?And she turned it into...
“How was I supposed to know that? It was no easy spell,” she argues back.
“Wolfsbane makes you horny? Wolfsbane? As in the toxic stuff in books and movies used to kill werewolves, according to every paranormal reference?” My gaze flicks to him.
He nods. “I thought for a time that you were wearing a perfume altered with it, because of my reaction to you.”
So that’s why he sniffed me all the time! “I haven’t been wearing any perfume.”
Wait... was that the real reason he was in my room?!
“You’re his mate,” Odette says. “You don’t need perfume, and it’s not uncommon that wolves get territorial and aggressive when mating, no matter the type. It wouldn’t matter what perfume you wore; it was most likely the mating trying to take hold.”
“As you so often point out,Iam not a werewolf. I do not change during the full moon and can touch silver just fine. Not to mention wolfsbane has a much different effect,” Connor says, glaring at her. “If anything, you’ve always said I’m more like a lycan. You even called her that before.”
“She’s a little different to you, because I can tell she’s a full-blooded one.” The witch narrows her eyes at him as her foot bounces up and down like she’s annoyed. “I was only trying to help, whether you like it or not. Besides, you have it much easier than the wolves. Much better to have a stiff cock than justbestiff. What else have you noticed?”
He sighs as if reluctant to tell her. “I no longer have pain when transitioning.”
“Really?” Her brows hit her hairline. “It must be the mate bond.”
“The mate bond takes away the pain when I turn?” he asks, his tone making it obvious he’s completely shocked.
I flex my fingers and realize I haven’t had any pain at all—until these cramps anyway. He did say the turning for him was painful.
“Because of Whitley?” Connor points a finger at me.
The witch examines me, her dark eyes going a weird rainbow, and I shudder. Is she using magic?
“Yes, because of her, the mate bond is taking hold. It means she is your true mate,” Odette says.
“Can we stop talking as if I’m not right here?” I bite out at Odette, my tone full of annoyance. Never mind that the woman’s irises are rainbows.
“Whitley... do you mind if I call you Whitley?” she asks, uncrossing her legs in her chair, and as I shake my head, I get a gut feeling I’m not going to like what she has to say next.
Connor O’Doyle
“Do eitherof you understand the significance of this? Whitley, we have no idea how your body will react because your kind, full-blooded lycans, are so rare and secretive. And Connor is the only one of his hybrid kind. Imagine what such a union could bring,” Odette says, with a wave of her dainty hand.
At her words, an odd stirring ignites in my chest, a want I never thought to have. I stare up at the wood-carved ceiling of the library as images of tiny children with brown hair and caramel eyes sprout in my mind. Whitley heavy with my child makes my chest swell with desire, but my excitement is doused the next moment when I realize there is no guarantee she will stay. We still haven’t talked about how permanent this could be, but as much as she is my true mate, I am hers too.
I blink and her face comes into focus, her posture stiff against the back of the puce-green library couch. I will have to find a way to convince her, and I hope the picnic I have planned for later helps.
The past twenty-four hours have been the most stressful in all my long life. The one bright spot is the end of dinner went well, according to Allan, who called while I was hastily getting dressed this morning to chase down Whitley after finding her gone from our bed. He updated me before leaving for the day and mentioned that Frank checked out of the hotel late lastnight. A good thing, too, or Odette being here would be cause for a lot more issues.
