Page 2 of Her Mated Shifter

A sliver of clarity shakes some sense into me. “It’s a tethering charm!”

I know precious little about witchcraft, other than the potions Fern brewed that often exploded all over our tiny kitchen, which I would have to clean up while she rested. But occasionally she would ramble on about different spells and what they were used for.

These were my childhood bedtime stories.

But who would want to tether me to anything? I don’t have a lick of magic in me. Whatever impressive crafting abilities Fern had, they died with her and were never passed onto me.

The Who, How and Why are of little consequence while my arm is so thoroughly entrenched in invisible fire.

My steps are more certain now as I race forward, my arm leading the way. My sneakers catch on roots and bramble, but even when I trip and fall, my goal remains clear: the pain will stop once I reach the thing I have been tethered to. That much I know.

It’s a coward’s charm, really. Witches sometimes use it when there’s a job to be done that they don’t want to do. They cast a spell to make another person complete the task for them.

My upper lip curls with disgust. “Whoever cast this is a jerk. I can’t even brew a cure for warts!” I hope whoever did this to me can hear my indignation. I hope they feel foolish for making a non-magical person do their bidding. I’m a witch by birth, but all ability to craft never surfaced in me.

I race further into the woods, forsaking the trail and moving where I know I won’t be able to find my way back without some serious work on the part of the GPS on my watch. If I lose the signal in here…

As if on cue, my watch dies.

Awesome.

Now it’s just me and my burning arm, running through the forest to retrieve whatever herb or artifact the lazy witch who tethered me wants me to retrieve.

I run for what feels like miles, and probably is. I race until my arm begins to feel light and airy, the heat completely gone. It feels like I am floating now, a cool balm sluicing over my skin. The relief is so acute that I wouldn’t be surprised if my feet had in fact left the ground, even though such a power doesn’t exist.

When the sound of a creek greets my ears, I exhale a heavy sigh of relief. “This must be what the witch wants. A vial of this water.” I grumble to myself at the absolute slovenly motive behind casting a tethering charm so someone else has to do the bidding of a witch on a mission. I lift my chin and speak to the forest, knowing the witch is nowhere near enough to hear my disgruntlement. “Well, fat lot of good that did you. I don’t have anything I can use to collect the water in. So, I’m stuck here for nothing. Think it through next time.”

I don’t expect a reply, but when the branches start to rustle on the other side of the creek, my spine stiffens. I hear footsteps louder than mine were, but they’re just as harried and haphazard. I scoot to the side, careful not to back away from the creek and thus rekindle the burning I very much want to avoid.

I can’t see much, but a large shape comes into view, far larger than any person could hope to be. The thick grunt of an animal fills the night air as the beast collapses on the other side of the creek, shoving its arm into the water, as if it too needs to alleviate a phantom burn.

I watch the enormous bear shudder with relief, wishing I could run without fear of my arm paying the consequence. The more it breathes, the thinner the black bear becomes. Each exhale brings about a more human quality as the black fur fades away, revealing the nude form of the most muscular man I have ever seen in real life. He’s heaving on all fours, and I can’t look away.

“Shifter,” I whisper, entranced at the body splayed on the other side of the water, mere feet from where I stand. His tight, brawny corded back is broad, his biceps larger than my thigh. His dark brown skin is scored with lacerations that look as if they’ve healed poorly over the course of several years. My heart lurches in my chest at the sight of his war-torn form. I’ve always been too soft for the magical world, too heartbroken at the slightest hint of a chipped fingernail, and it looks as if this shifter has endured far more harrowing things than that.

Once his pain subsides, much like me, he begins to take in his surroundings as his chin lifts. When his eyes fall on me, his nostrils flair. “Witch?”

Fear washes over me when I realize that this shifter was also tethered to this spot, but he believes I am the lazy witch at fault for his pain.

I raise my hands in surrender, my eyes wide with worry as I shake my head frantically. But as he lifts his chin to take me in, I realize that if he doesn’t believe that I had nothing to do with the tethering charm that brought us to this spot, a burning arm will be the least of my problems.

2

Leo

The witch takes a step away from me, and I inch back from her as the night air hits my bare skin. I should be the one running from her, but she looks as though she is afraid of me, as if I am the one who lured her here, instead of the other way around. But I don’t make it three steps back before sudden agony shoots from elbow to wrist. The pain that led me here consumes my arm, as if it knows I need to be exactly here for whatever reason.

“It wasn’t me!” she shouts, her voice delicate even as she tries to put force behind it. She’s not a mere slip of a thing. She’s lean, muscular, moderately shapely, and tall enough to command my attention when she stands. Her brown hair is tied back from her face, revealing sweat dampening her forehead around a ridiculous headlamp that makes her look like a miner. She lifts her arms in surrender, as if I am about to attack her. “I didn’t cast the tethering charm, but I think that’s what it is. Do you feel it in your arm? It’s a burn that only lessens when you’re near the thing the witch who cast the spell wants you to fetch them.”

I nod slowly, her spotlight shining directly at me like I’m being interrogated. “I feel it, but it’s not so bad now.”

She motions to the creek, her shoulders lowering. “Strange that both of us were tethered for one task.” I can tell she is choosing her words carefully as she motions to herself. “I’m really sorry this happened.”

I nod, wondering why she is apologizing for something she didn’t do. Then it dawns on me that she isn’t all that dissimilar from me in that respect. When a member of my pack attacks someone out of turn, I feel responsible for it. I am the one who goes out and tries to negotiate peace with the neighboring packs. My shoulders lower when this spark of understanding settles in my chest. I know I shouldn’t stand, but I’ve never been much for prolonged kneeling. The shift left me naked. But if we’re going to need to communicate through this task, I should probably be able to speak to her, which I can’t do in my bear form.

Slowly, I rise, keeping my eyes on her face the entire time. I watch with mild amusement as her gaze zeroes in on my dick. Her mouth drops open, giving me all the validation I might ever need. She’s not even distracted by the mark of the Alpha taking up half my thigh like a giant tattoo.

I motion to my cock. “I feel like I should apologize, but I’m guessing I’ll need to be a person for this if we’re going to get to the bottom of why we’ve been brought here. Maybe something to do with the creek?” I gesture to the narrow brook that trickles between us.

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