Page 11 of Wolves of the Golden Sun

And, I mean, he is, but he’s not.

But Rook doesn’t have any baggage. Or, I guess I should say, I don’t have any baggage impeding him or our connection.

Not yet, at least. And I plan to keep it that way.

I sneak a glance at the sofa once more at Rafe and try not to let the burning tears behind my eyes leak out.

“Not spruce. It’s larch, actually. Rafe and I built it ourselves,” Jonah answers.

“Ah, so he doesn’t mind sharing with you, then?” Rook asks, but his sister presses onward.

“We can deal with the logistics of a polycule later. Right now, I need to get the magic you stole back—”

My gaze snaps to her, and I don’t let myself look back at Rook and those perfectly kissable lips, no matter how much I want to. “I didn’t steal anything. Got it? Claudia gave it to me.”

“Emilia knows that. She’s splitting hairs because you left our territory. Hell, you left the country and itcouldlook like you wanted to keep it.”

“I left your country to go home. I have absolutely no intention of keeping anything that doesn’t belong to me.” Especially where magic is concerned.

The sister unpurses her lips. “Right, well, it should be a fairly simple ritual, provided you haven’t assimilated it into your being.”

I let out a sigh, relieved that at least I did that right. “Assimilated it? I doubt it. I couldn’t even use it.”

Emilia’s face goes stony, lips pressing into a thin line once again. “You tried to use our magic?” She hisses between her teeth.

I offer a half-smile and a half-hearted shrug. “I couldn’t, though. And it’s not like I was trying to use it for myself. I was only trying to help save my mate, whose arm was just ripped off.”

She scoffs at me. “Of course you couldn’t! Only a witch can use witch magic.”

Jonah takes my hand under the table. “Well then, I don’t see the problem. She didn’t use it.”

“No, but she tried. That’s what matters. She’s entangledmyancestral knowledge in her inferior wolf shifter spirit.”

“Emilia!” Rook scolds.

“That’s kinda racist, don’t you think? Wolves aren’t inferior to witches.” Jonah says flatly.

“They are when it comes to wielding magic.” The tiny witch huffs as she pulls her phone out and starts texting, thumbs flying across the screen like her life depends on it.

“She doesn’t mean it that way,” Rook says. “She’s under a lot of pressure.”

Jonah squeezes my hand under the table. “A good leader doesn’t lash out under pressure. A good leader knows the power they hold and would never intentionally hurt those under them.”

Emilia glares at him over her phone. “Good thing your mate and I are equals then, isn’t it?” She immediately goes back to staring at her phone.

I find Rook’s eyes. “Level with me. How bad is this?”

Rook leans over the table, and I don’t miss how he reaches for me, hand inching across the table until I meet it with mine. “It’s not great. We’ve gotta call in a full coven to get it out of you.”

“Oh, what like twelve or thirteen witches?” That didn’t seem so bad.

He shakes his head. “Twelve bloodlines. Three representatives from each.”

“Thirty-six. I got myself into thirty-six witches’ worth of trouble?”

“You did. And until they arrive, there’s little I can do.” The tiny witch stands. “I’ll be at the crummy motel right outside your jurisdiction until the rest arrive. Until then, I don’t want you eventhinkingabout the magic you’re carting around. Am I clear?”

I nod and show her the way out. She slams the door behind her.

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