Page 7 of A Mate for the King
Interesting.
How did she smell so perfect to him? A shifter and a magic wielder? Such a union wasn’t allowed by pack law. How had she come to be? This omega shouldn't be. Couldn't be. But here she was.
Magic and beauty.
“Sweets…” The pet name fell unbidden from his lips. Zehr might have winced at the slip if the sweet confectionery scent of the omega hadn’t been cloying around him. But it was, and the intoxicating smell pulled him a few steps closer. Not even the alarm bells her lingering magic set off in his hindbrain could stop him now, and he kept advancing, watching with interest at how the omega’s whiskey brown eyes widened at the endearment.
“You have magic.”
“I do.”
“No shifter has magic.”
She gave a quick shake of her head, sending her mane of black curls over her shoulder. “That’s not true. We are magic.”
Zehr smiled slightly. “Shifters are not magic, little omega, but somehow you are. How?”
The omega looked down, gaze moving to her feet, and she went still as a statue. A moment later she spoke, voice so soft Zehr almost missed it over the sound of rustling leaves and wind.
“I’m ha-half bruja," she whispered.
Zehr froze, and this time it was the alpha’s eyes that widened. Bruja?! How was it that one of the witches to the south had mated with a shifter to produce the sinfully sweet and trembling omega in front of him?
Oh, this was bad.Very bad.
