Cuffed and Mated

by Penelope Wylde

  Dragon and wolf shifters were naturally sexual beasts at their core and had a way of making it worth any a woman’s while to give them exactly what they wanted—in and out of bed. A point all the Sleepy Briar coven sisters were all discovering for themselves tonight with their mates—all but her, anyway.

  Which brought everything back into focus.

  She fumbled under the counter until she found the hidden stainless-steel flask she kept there. A couple of swigs of Moon Brew went a long way to easing her nerves and shooing away the chills. Her sister’s supernatural hooch burned the back of her mouth and left a warm trail all the way to her stomach, then branched out as it hit her system full throttle.

  She took one more gulp for liquid bravado and stashed the container back in its cubbyhole.

  Aleaha pressed forward and returned to the mess.

  A little boost to heighten her powers was all she needed. A small spell to get a better peek at the message she somehow knew fate wanted her to witness. Her fingers tightened around the edges of her sweatshirt. When her insides twisted and tugged at her instinct with such force, past experiences taught her to listen.

  She flicked her gaze to the old-timey clock in the corner. Both hands closed in on midnight. Her heart quickened. She’d have to hurry.

  Or maybe she should leave well enough alone.

  Fingers wrapped around the multiple potion bottles and herbs, Aleaha gave a hip bump to the floor-to-ceiling ladder connected to the equally large shelves.

  Wheels squeaked and clattered as she pushed to the different areas to stow away the magical ingredients. With familiar ease, she slipped the various bottles into their places, each with a soft clink against the wood.

  Similar to the system of a library she and Eva, her business partner and coven sister, kept everything organized according to their strengths and purposes. Lavender and crushed rose quartz—very hard to come by—dried marigold petals and, of course, Fae tears had its own area obviously.

  She glanced down at the one remaining bottle in her hand. Recently burned wood ash grounded her to the present when casting certain spells. With this, the dragon’s blood and a couple more ingredients…

  Aleaha swung the ladder back to the dried marigold leaves and snagged a couple of purple candles on the way down. Careful not to spill any of the ingredients, she spread her bounty in a circle on the floor, setting the dragon’s blood on top of the counter and out of harm’s way until needed. Mistaking it for the rose quartz dust or crushed rose petal would be a huge mistake.

  Next, she plucked a cast-iron cauldron from the shelf and sat it center stage among her makeshift altar. With a jerk she pulled over a recent shipment from her grandmother’s greenhouse down south and thumbed through the small packets until she found the fresh buttercup petals. Blood rushed in her ears, but she didn’t dare stop now. Armed with a small arsenal, she assembled her ingredients according to their use in a semi-circle around the cauldron.

  Finished, she stepped back to take in her work. Now, she only needed one more thing, fresh spring water. Light flurries fell like miniature fairy wings against her skylight.

  Right. Dead of winter…

  Hmm. She flicked the lock and dashed outside. Yellow domed puddles of light broke the endless veil of night down both sides of the street, but not a soul wandered around at this late hour. Not that any sane person would be out in the worst Nor‘easter that had hit their small Maine town in years.

  Aleaha scooped a handful of freshly fallen snow and dashed back inside.

  Every witch needed a little help now and again. Being clairvoyant didn’t mean she was all-knowing. Nor did it mean she could pick and choose what came to her.

  As a young witch, her aunt had taught her a few tricks to boost the signal into the ether. The lesson came complete with a red flag of caution against using the spell for greedy, untrue purposes.

  Of course.

  She scoffed, tossed the bundle of packed snow into the cauldron and ticked her now chilled finger against her lip. No mistaking the fact she saw blood. That meant a matter of life or death, right? Maybe her own. That signaled danger and if it could be prevented?

  No, she could better her argument. One by one she ticked off her reasons to peer back into her future as she paced the small area behind the counter.

  There had been blood, and on the sheriff no less.

  This could mean the sheriff of Sleepy Briar might be in trouble.

  An overwhelming feeling of dread and panic had rushed her during her vision, causing a fresh wave of goosebumps to flush across her arms.

  And it was her duty to make sure the fine law-keeper was safe. Right? Good citizen and all that she was.

  Aleaha palmed the purple candles and scribed Rebel Donovan down one side, and on the other, an infinity symbol enclosed in a circle carefully closed at the seam. One misstep could have her traipsing into the future of anyone with a similar name. She didn’t need to adopt problems when she was creating enough of her own.

  The goddesses had deemed her family worthy of the gift in the old world and she carried on the tradition down the bloodline, as would every firstborn girl in her family and so on. She would tread lightly, but the haunted eyes of the sexy shifter of her vision demanded she push the boundaries.

  Palms on either side of the cauldron, Aleaha channeled her energy through her core and focused on letting it pour through her palms to melt the snow.

  Chimes sounded off in the background and signaled the stroke of midnight and the beginning of the winter solstice.

  Spells that dealt with time were sensitive—anything could happen to change what she saw and she’d never know what fate, destiny or whatever higher power wanted her to witness.

  With a snap, each candlewick burst into an otherworldly cerulean flame.

  Indigo shade of twilight deep,

  Tell me this secret of yours to keep,

  One by one, she gathered the other ingredients and sprinkled them into the clear water with the power of her enchanted words.

  Through shadows of midnight,

  Through sun and light,

  Lift the veil of time this night,

  Show me the thread of fate for Rebel Donovan,

  As I will it, so mote it be.

  With a flick of her thumb, she snapped off the top of the ashes and cast it into the four cardinal directions.

  Fog rumbled over the floor, alive with an invisible force. Her vision dimmed and the room began to vibrate. Unable to see, she opened her senses.

  Something didn’t feel right. She pushed to her feet, but stumbled forward instead. Glass clanked against hard wood. Copper and iron filled her nostrils seconds before a bright red flash broke through the blacked shroud over her ethereal sight. A burst of wind gut-punched her and for the second time that night she fell.

  Chapter Three

  He tasted magic in the cold winter air. Brittle and tangy but there was no mistake. Magic and mischief tainted the town and that pointed back to only one place.

  One witch.

  The woman would be the death of him and it would come by either their shared passion for all-nighters or her aversion to the law.

  He could sense her unique signature in the spell work. Witches had no idea how vulnerable they were to a shifter’s scent, especially to one with a badge. Hiding was next to impossible which made his job easier, but tonight he wished it didn’t. He wished he didn’t have to be here doing the last thing he ever imagined.

  Power surged through his veins, and Rebel loved the thrill of adrenaline that hit him like a two-ton bull with anger issues.

  His wolf woke, stretched and hungered to come out and play. A second wave of magic rolled over him and he cracked his window and inhaled.

  Exotic and appetizing.

  And forbidden by both their laws.

  If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could still taste her on his lips from their time together a couple of nights ago. His wolf growled in agreement. Vanilla wrapped in
a sinful citrus scent made to drive him fucking crazy. He swallowed down the urge for one more taste of everything that made up his sweet Aleaha McKenna. God, he could live off the way her essence charged his system.

  A trail of sensation ran down his spine and tightened his balls. His dick grew hard as a steel pole until he felt the bite of his zipper. “Fuck me.” Why did it have to be him? His town? His girl?

  He groaned against the strain that gnawed at him. Silence unfolded, his smoky breath the only movement on the dead street. Fingers buried in his thighs, Rebel took a deep breath, desperate for a distraction.

  His beast pushed against the paper-thin shroud that separated the man from his wolf. Acutely aware of the full moon hanging above, Rebel pinched the bridge of his nose but it did nothing to block or weaken her allure calling him closer.

  He had a duty to perform, but the wolf didn’t care one way or the other. The only thing he could focus on was the witch responsible for the ache that tied them both in knots for the last two full moons.

  Instinct drove his compass and demanded he claim a mate, and his wolf wanted Aleaha. They’d danced around the subject, leaving it a casual rendezvous and friends with benefits, but when she looked his way, her emerald eyes shone with something that went deeper than their casual hookups. And that scared him to death.

  Since she arrived in Sleepy Briar to care for her aunt, their torrid affair had gone from sizzling to soul scorching in a night.

  But he couldn’t offer her the stars he saw staring back at him from the depth of her jewel-colored eyes. Lone wolves didn’t have that privilege. That’s why he’d meant to come here tonight and end things, despite the fact his wolf wanted the forever kind of relationship with the witch.

  In order to claim a mate, his law demanded he be part of a pack. For the most part, the idea worked and provided the normally tight kit community a sense of a large family, as the law intended. Until they turned on their own and he had no intention of letting that ever happen again.

  This close, her undiluted essence shot through him with each inhale of cold air and served as a shot of pure lust. His wolf lured him closer to the edge of losing what little control he had with every second they neared the winter solstice.

  At the stroke of midnight the full moon would be at its strongest, and so would his wolf. Going in there probably didn’t sit high on the smart move list, but he had a job and it currently had McKenna’s name all over it.

  A static-riddled voice crackled through the police scanner, forcing Rebel’s attention away from his dick and back to the arrest warrant in his hand. He looked at the detailed description of the suspect again in the muted moonlight. No mistake, the woman wanted for breaking and entering into an exotic botanical garden a town over was one his Aleaha.

  Female, not an inch over five feet, fits his thick cock like a glove, short pixie hair perfect for burying his fingers in, and one kissable Marilyn Monroe-styled beauty mark just above her lip. Also said to be a witch. That last detail was the dead ringer.

  The official report might read differently, but he liked his version better. They’d forgotten the sweet Southern lilt that colored her voice and light creamy skin that made him want to take a nibble just to prove she tasted as sweet as she looked.

  Rebel shifted in his seat for a better look at the shop. Soft light bathed the sidewalk through some kind of wispy curtain that didn’t block out a damn thing. He watched as she crossed from one side to the other, head down as if she was concentrating on a task.

  She’d gotten herself into trouble for some reason, left witnesses, and now he got to slap cuffs on the sassy witch. Maybe he should thank her. The fantasy of having her at his mercy crossed his mind on more than one occasion. He’d never pushed the idea of cuffing and fucking her but now the idea cemented in his mind and had his dick like granite.

  He smiled. Aleaha, her emerald eyes lit with a mischievous fire and wearing his hardware made his cock ache with anticipation.

  He tossed the paper into the passenger seat. Easy boy. The minute he touched her, his wolf would take over and he’d gladly pass over the reins, all foreplay forgotten. He couldn’t let that happen. The last time they were together, he’d almost lost it and claimed her. When his control slipped and focused on not Aleaha the delectable woman he enjoyed, but to Aleaha, his mate and the woman that lit the fire in his belly and pulled on a deeper, more primal fiber of his being, he knew he had to leave.

  Shifter law had forced him out of the only home he knew before hitting double digits as a kid and soon after, left him to care for a drunk of a father that had nothing better to do than make him understand how worthless he was to a pack. For years Rebel thought it was his fault the pack had disowned his family with the way his father degraded him. It wasn’t until years later he realized it was his deadbeat father’s fault instead. Killing a pack elder while moon drunk had a way of sealing one’s fate.

  In the end, he’d been left without a pack or a family, but he managed to land on his feet. One thing he would never do again, though, was give someone the power to make him feel that way again. Ever. That meant no pack, which meant no Aleaha.

  At first, he thought maybe a strand of all-nighters would work her out of his system and he could get back to business as usual. That meant keeping Sleepy Briar tame, the otherworldlies in check, and the humans safe. Laws had bound him since birth. Some good, and some not worth a damn. The badge he wore worked like a safety net and he could deal with that.

  Rebel slipped from his cruiser then froze the second his boot hit ankle-deep snow and watched the vision of beauty before him. What the hell was she up to?

  A small bell jangled as the brunette in question ducked out in tight jeans that outlined her curvy body on the bottom half and in complete contrast to the overlarge sweater that damn near swallowed her upper half.

  A sharp wind tucked around the corner to cause a few wisps of hair to dance around her heart-shaped face.

  Lack of air constricted his lungs. Everything slowed and all he could think of was anchoring her close to his body, protecting her against the harsh elements of the world and warming her up with the same primal heat sluicing through him. With the way it burned she’d never be cold again.

  Glued in place, Rebel continued to watch as she bent and scooped up what looked like a handful of snow. The complete mystery of a woman had him at a loss. One minute he wanted to unravel her one thread at a time at least three times a day and all night when the lure of the full moon called. In the next, he wanted to backtrack out the same way he came in, but he knew one way would burn him and the other would likely leave him for dead. Soulless.

  She scanned the area but passed right over his presence tucked beneath the only tree on the street—an evergreen that had seen the birth of a nation and probably the last of its kind. Bless the city council’s love for historical landmarks.

  When she retreated, Rebel crossed the street in a slow stride. If he walked in there, brandishing his warrant and cuffs she might balk and toss some hexed spell at him that would leave him green and slimy. If she wanted to be nice.

  He cringed.

  No, if he wanted to get her in hand, he’d have to plan this right. Pulling a John Wayne might not go over too well. What did they say about walking up on an unsuspecting witch? He didn’t have a clue, but whatever it was, he knew for damn sure it warned a man against it.

  Careful not to expose his position, he lowered his radio volume and edged closer to the brick building to listen. He angled his head and took a couple of beats to make sure Aleaha had settled inside.

  Stepping cautiously along the snow-covered walkway, Rebel grimaced when the fresh powder crunched beneath his heavy boots as he approached the front entrance. He suspected there would be several inches to deal with come morning. Being snowed in with the feisty witch wouldn’t be such a bad idea and it made his blood rush south. Never in his adult life did he ever wish he could set aside the badge that had saved his life.

  For
her, though, the thought crossed his mind often. He clenched his back teeth and shoved the thought aside. He didn’t need to tempt his wolf with a treasure he couldn’t keep and a future he knew damn well didn’t stand a chance.

  Thunder rumbled overhead, cutting him off mid-thought.

  Torrents of air beat against him and sent a flurry of fresh snow to white out his surroundings.

  Another quake hammered down on him, the kind that reached into a man’s body and made every fucking bone vibrate. “Son-of-a-bitch.” Rebel clenched his jaw. He knew that sound. He raised his head and scented the air just to make sure as he reached for his shoulder holster. His lips pulled back and a deep, guttural growl ruptured from his throat in warning to the approaching shifter.

  Muted silhouettes danced and weaved in between the shadows cast by the neighboring buildings.

  Another rumbled shockwave thundered overhead, shaking the ground beneath his feet, but he caught traction with the grooved soles of his boots.

  If those winged creatures thought they could come sniffing around his woman they had another think coming. He moved toward the door. Aleaha was inside. Alone. He needed to move her to safety. The station made for the best option. Dragons never did a fly-by without a fight ensuing. Shit was about to get real and his office-issued 9mm had no chance against the flying lizard’s scales.

  Rebel lunged for the door handle.

  Energy crawled along his skin, the force of the shift luring him to answer the call of the moon.

  Not yet, dammit! Not yet.

  Everything slowed.

  They say when a man faces death time slows to a full stop. That the three sisters of fate steal a few seconds of a person’s life, taking that moment to measure out their worth on earth versus their need for souls in Hades.

  He hoped like hell the caverns of the underworld were at full capacity.

  Scenes of blood on his lips, his arms wrapped around Aleaha, her neck within reach of his wolf’s teeth flashed across his mind as if he was on the outside looking in.