Page 5 of Captive Witch

I run a hand over my face. “I know we’re supposed to continue your training. Just… give me ten minutes to inhale some caffeine.”

She frowns, her eyes misting over. “Addy isn’t coming?”

My jaw ticks, my heart cracking for her—for both of us. “No, love, not today.”

“Why won’t you make her? You have alpha power. You could make her.”

I rub a hand over my forehead. “I can’t do that, Jaz.”

She slams her hand down on the island, the sharp slap of her palm ringing in the air. “You could if you wanted to!”

“I can’t.” I shake my head, wishing she could understand, but how could she when I barely do myself? “Not only is she able to resist it, but I want her towantto be here. I…”I want her to want me.

A tear falls down her cheek, her lower lip trembling. Stepping around the island, I wrap her in my arms, letting her sorrow soak the front of my shirt. “She’ll come back, right?” she mutters, her voice muffled by my shirt and her crying. “Because she loves us, she’ll come back?” Pulling back, she stares up at me, chocolate eyes swimming in a sea of heartache.

“Yeah,” I whisper, “because she loves us, she’ll come back. She just… needs some time.” I hold her for another moment, letting the quiet wash over us, before moving to the coffee pot andfilling a mug. I throw a glance at her as I make my way toward the back doors and step outside. I jut my chin toward the center of the yard. “Draw your wolf out. Close your eyes.”

“I know,” she says, rolling her eyes as she saunters to the middle of the grass, shifts, and stands there with her eyes closed.

Inhaling through my nose, I close my own eyes, letting the place and its memories wash over me. The patio space by the firepit and grill is the most painful—my arms aching to hold Adara the same as I did before. The chill morning wind brings the crisp, earthy forest scent to me, and I open my eyes with a sigh. I take another sip of my coffee, making my way to Jaz’s brown wolf.

I let two drips slosh over the edge of my mug with my next step, smirking as her ears twitch in my direction. Finally, I stand behind her. “Retrace my steps.”

Opening her eyes, she takes one step, stopping when Itskat her.

“Ah-ah, no cheating.” I smirk when she huffs, closing her eyes and finding the path I took to get from the back door to where she’d been standing. She uses her paw, scratching the earth where my coffee splashed the grass, then completes the path and turns to face me.

Tilting her head to the side, she studies me for a moment.“That all you got?”

Chuckling under my breath, I finish the rest of my coffee and study the bottom of the mug. “Are you sure you found everything?” I quirk a brow at her, knowing she did exactly what was asked but missed that one extra piece—the small bit of cereal I dropped in the yard last night at the edge of the forest.

“What? But I…”She glances around the yard, then swings her gaze back to me, glaring.“You cheated.”

“Cheating is such astrongword. I’d like to call it… enhancing your senses. It won’t always be so obvious and easy, Jazelle.” Ismirk and shrug my shoulders. “Might want to figure out that missing piece before lunch. Otherwise, you’re losing zero to three.”

I feign a yawn as I make my way back inside, letting her have the yard to herself to search for the single piece of Chex at the very edge of the grass. Grabbing the can of paint and the brush, I make my way to the kitchen to finish painting the cabinets that survived my attempt to rid Monique’s touch from my house—rid of the image of her walking through this house, magic cloaking her body to look like my own, as she attacked the two people I care most about. I start with the island base, layering on the deep violet color. From a distance, it looks almost black or possibly a very deep blue, but once the light hits it, the slight hint of purple comes out.

It reminds me of a certain witch’s eyes, and though it makes my chest ache a bit, it also reminds me of everything worth holding on to.

Fifteen minutes go by before Jaz walks in, throwing the cereal at me and hitting me in the back of the head. Laughing, I pick it up off the floor, where it landed, and nod at her. “Good job, little star. You’re getting faster.” The first time I hid something like this, though larger, it took her the better part of an afternoon.

Her brown hair frames her face, her eyes burning wildly. “A piece ofcereal?And it barely has a scent!”

I chuckle at her frustration. “Well, yeah. I can’t have it be a sugary marshmallow or you would’ve found it right away. There has to be some kind of challenge to it, or what’s the point?”

She huffs, blowing a piece of hair away from her face and crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever,” she mumbles.

“Now, do you want to go home or help paint?” I toss a spare paintbrush at her, smirking when she catches it reflexively. “We can call it precision training, if you promise to not let any get on my floor.”

Her eyes light up as she takes in the still wet island. Without a word, she skips to the cabinets near the stove—the only upper cabinets still attached to the wall—and dips into the tray of paint waiting there.

The quiet only lasts seconds, and I should’ve known better than to assume the task would take most of her attention—nothing ever takes enough of her attention to keep her quiet for long.

Her humming stops, and she takes a step back to look over her work, glancing between the two lone upper cabinets. “Why’d you keep only these cabinets?” She looks over her shoulder at me where I’m sitting on the floor, finishing the last coat of paint on the island.

“Because they hold my mugs.”

She screws her face up, pursing her lips to the side. “But didn’t the other cabinets hold stuff too? So, why leave these but not the others?”

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