Page 20 of The Soulless Witch

That wasn’t how I intended to meet him after all this time. I had hoped we wouldn’t meet at all, that I could avoid him for another life, but he had come too close the last time, and I doubted he’d let me run off again.

“Roman,” I said in the end, slipping my fingers into his. The sharp lines of his face softened as he bowed down to kiss my knuckles, his breath caressing my skin even though he didn’t actually need to breathe. He rose but didn’t let go of my hand.

“Let’s get…” Roman started, but then suddenly trailed off, turning around. I had to take a small step to the side to see what caught his attention. I expected to find the police or some concerned, no-common-sense human who heard the screams and came to check them out, but instead, we found Isaac prowling into the alley, four more people trailing behind him.

Roman’s body remained perfectly relaxed while Isaac’s step faltered, jaw tightening in frustration.

“Back off, Roman, the witch is mine!” Isaac snarled, stopping next to the body of the hunter who had thrown those knives at me. I couldn’t help but notice that his death had been the most brutal—Roman had ripped his throat but let him bleed out slowly. The others he had just killed without much thought.

Isaac grimaced at the sight before locking his eyes on us again.

“I beg to differ,” Roman said in a perfectly collected tone, as if the five werewolves blocking our way didn’t bother him at all. Those hunters hadn’t been a match for him, but with five wolves, and me as a deadweight, I wasn’t sure I liked those odds. “If anything,” Roman continued, glancing at me as I stepped from behind him, “she is mine.”

I gulped at the implication, the mark on my chest burning me almost as much as the pain in my freezing feet. Isaac snarled, taking another step toward us. His eyes flickered to mine, and I noticed it—a hint of shame and that same promise of violence. He really did want to kill me, and I still couldn’t remember what I had done to him. He looked young, even by werewolf standards, so how old could he have been when I was still alive before?

I forced a smirk on my face, crossing my arms.

“One quick tryst, and I’m yours now, am I?” I scoffed, almost enjoying the way his face flushed. The four werewolves behind him shot him a quick glance, but they didn’t give me the satisfaction of reacting. Unlike them, Isaac looked ready to pounce on me, and not in a sexy way.

“You will pay for that, witch!” He bared his teeth, taking a step forward.

“No, she will not.” Roman countered, shrugging off his jacket. He draped it over my shoulders before rolling his sleeves up. Isaac watched him with narrowed eyes, his companions moving closer as if sensing the impending fight.

Roman continued to look completely unbothered that he was in the middle of a dark alley with five corpses and five more waiting to join them. I touched his arm and shook my head slightly and he sighed, turning to look at Isaac.

“Leave,” he said with that arrogant voice of his that suggested he was doing them a big favor. And he probably was, since I doubted they could take him down and live to tell about it. But I didn’t want to create an even bigger mess, making more enemies than I had before tonight. That was inevitable with the hunters, I didn’t think there was anything I could do to get them to leave me alone, but if I let those wolves walk away alive, maybe they’d appreciate that mercy and we’d stay out of each other’s way.

“Not without her.” Isaac spat. It took some effort not to roll my eyes.

“You are in vampire territory, wolf,” Roman said, picking up an invisible lint from his shoulder before locking his eyes on Isaac. “Council member or not, you are trespassing, and if you hurt any vampire—or someone under their protection—we are within our rights to retaliate. So think hard before you answer me, Alpha. Are you willing to sacrifice your entire pack for the mere chance of getting your hands on Celeste? Because if you touch her without her permission, I will murder every man, woman, and child in your pack.” Roman shifted his weight, his body leaning toward mine as if he were preparing for an unfavorable answer. “So, what is it going to be?”

Isaac’s jaw tightened, his glare passing between the two of us. He opened his mouth to speak when the woman behind him—a tall werewolf with dirty blonde hair and a scar running over her left cheek—touched his shoulder.

“Isaac,” she said quietly. He shrugged off her hand, still glaring at us. At me.

For a second, that expression felt vaguely familiar, like I had seen it before, but then he was turning and the familiarity vanished, leaving me staring at their receding figures. With the werewolves gone, I was suddenly aware of the blasting sirens and the screaming people, of the blood and the bodies and the cold.

Roman moved behind me, bending to pick up my heels before returning to my side.

“I’m going to carry you,” he said, but he didn’t move for a few moments, as if giving me a chance to protest. And I would have, if I wasn’t so exhausted, my toes pinching and the soles of my feet torn from stepping on something sharp. I hugged his neck as he gathered me in his arms, keeping my gaze forward while he stepped over the bodies with expert ease.

The main street was a mess, with the police trying to keep everyone together while putting up yellow tape around the building. The sirens continued to flash, and people kept shouting and crying, but all that noise died down as Roman walked away from it at a slow, steady pace.

“Are you injured?” he asked, and I finally braved a glance up. He kept his eyes on the street, his face set into an unreadable mask.

“No,” I replied, and even though I was pretty sure he knew I was lying, he nodded.

Roman stopped, and I braced myself. I expected him to jump to the rooftop of one of the buildings, or run off at his inhuman speed like he had done several times before, to my stomach’s displeasure, but he just took something out of his pocket and pressed it.

A low beep made me turn my head just as he strode to a sleek black car with tinted windows, opening the passenger’s door and gently setting me down. Within another heartbeat, he was already slipping into the driver’s seat.

“Put on your seatbelt,” he ordered, and before I realized what I was doing, I obeyed. He looked me over as if to make sure I did it right, then started the engine with a quiet purr.

This was not how I imagined my first meeting with my former lover would go, not after running away from him for two hundred years. And yet, I should have expected it from Roman. After all, he probably knew me better than I knew myself.

Chapter 12

Celeste

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