by C. D. Gorri
But he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the fucker with the hand problem. Seff’s nostrils flared. He clamped down hard on his teeth before speaking, aware that he was vibrating with anger.
“First off, you need to back the hell up,” his voice was a deep rumble, that caused both Witches to jump.
“Remove your hands from her or they will be removed for you. Permanently. Second, Ms. Morgan is on retainer with the Macconwood Pack, who are you to reprimand her for honoring our arrangement?” snarled Seff.
“Seriously, back up, crow-man,” growled Liam, always one to follow his brother’s lead.
“Foolish pup, you don’t know what she’s done for your brother there! She’s given of herself, she will have no recourse now but to bow down to the demands of the Elders Trust. They will not give up in this-” he raged.
“What do you mean?” Seff spoke as he rubbed the hollow point in the middle of his chest that seemed to tug and pull at him in the general direction of where Sherry stood on her own two, if a tad wobbly, feet.
“Vasco, that is enough!” The power in her voice made the male Witch grit his teeth, but Seff was not affected in the least.
True, he was reeling, but it was from the idea that she had put herself in harm’s way. For him. That did not sit well. Not at fucking all. His stomach threatened to revolt and, were it not utterly empty, he might have made a mess right where he stood.
And then he’d have to burn his fucking Wolf-card. Hurling on the feet of your lover, past, current, or future, it didn’t matter, was definite cause for losing said card.
Not an option. Still, he couldn’t just let this stand as it was. Sherry Morgan might be his ex, but she was still someone he cared about and, he would not have her put herself at risk. First, he needed to assess the danger and find out exactly what it was she did to save him. Then, he needed to make some plans.
“Sherry, what does he mean you gave of yourself?” Seff asked, clueing in to the strange wording the male Witch had used.
She averted her gaze, but pride had her raising her now dark green eyes to meet his. Seff waited.
“You must understand, there was no other way. Your life force was being drained, I had to anchor you here.”
“Alright-”
“How many days have we been out?” She turned her head and addressed the question to Vasco.
“Five days,” he replied through clenched teeth.
“Five days,” she shook her head, “Not since I was a young girl has a spell vexed me so.”
“Sherry? You need to explain this to me,” Seff insisted.
“Yes, Seff, you are right. Just give me a moment please,” she swallowed some more tea.
“Well, honesty is best. Okay then. Seff, I’ve tried to battle the spell on you with potions and casting to no avail. The Dark magic used against you is most powerful and foul. To bring you out of your coma, I had to perform a bondio enaid, a soul bonding with you. Since he has attacked both aspects of your person, Wolf and man, I had to keep your human side from expiring, soul bonding was the only way,” she bit her lower lip and frowned.
Her large eyes glowed green and she looked at him as if trying to gauge his response. She bit her lower lip and he sucked in a breath feeling her anxiety and wanting to soothe it.
He was so distracted by her mouth, he lost track of what she was saying. Odd. He’d been around her before, long after their breakup, and yet, this was the first time he wanted to cross that invisible barrier that separated them ever since the day he wrote her that stupid note.
Awareness tickled his senses. He inhaled again and this time he could only breathe in her scent, cinnamon and spice. The others in the room must have noticed his distraction because Conall cleared his throat and Liam nodded his head at him in anticipation. Focus dammit.
“Um, soul bonding? What does that mean?”
“It is nothing-”
“Nothing! Ha! Who will you mate with now that you have a bond with the mongrel!” Vasco spat the word at him like the insult it was.
“Did you seriously just call my brother a mongrel?” growled Liam.
“Did I? Sorry, I meant, Wolf. All better now?” said Vasco his sarcasm evident, even without the eye roll.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Seff’s voice was loud even to his own ears in the suddenly quiet room.
“Don’t you know what she’s done? Don’t you know of her promise? They will hold her to it, she has no choice now. They will force her-”
“Vasco!”
“No, Sherry, I won’t let you go through this not without him understanding the cost to you!”
“Talk to me,” Seff growled.
“Fine, McAllister, just so you understand the sacrifice she makes for you. It is a sacrifice of free will. You see, she will be seen as tainted, and none will want to forge an alliance with such a Witch, no matter how powerful. And since she’s already agreed to their terms, she will have no bloody choice! They will seek to use her as a brood mare or worse, they will try and strip her of her magic!”
“What the fuck are you saying?”
“Don’t you understand anything? She is the last Morrigan, the oldest and the strongest line of Witches, and the elders of all the Covens have her word that she will beget an heir by the next turn of the seasons. An heir, in her case a female Witch, to take up her mantle as it were. They will not take kindly to her diluting her essence by soul bonding with a bloody dog!”
In touch with his Wolf or not, Seff wasn’t about to let that go unanswered. With one hand holding the sheet around his waist, he swung the other and with a resounding crack, the bird man went down. His body fell backwards, right onto the hardwood floor. He missed the plush, navy blue throw rug completely. Two points for the “bloody dog”. Grrr.
“Now, look what you’ve done!” Sherry’s accented voice met his ears, but all he could do was scowl.
“What the hell was that jerk talking about? Brood mare? Soul bond? Sherry speak to me!”
“Oh yes, because that worked out so well for Vasco,” she crouched down on the floor next to Vasco’s prone figure.
“You can’t think I’d ever hurt you?”
“Vasco? Can you hear me?” She ignored Seff as she tried to revive the unconscious Witch on his floor.
He felt only slightly awkward at his unusual display of temper, but that embarrassment wore off when he looked at Sherry. Seff’s gaze was riveted to her body in the almost see-through gown she wore.
The fabric pulled tight across her lush derriere as she checked the male Witch for injury. Seff had to bite his tongue to keep from reaching for her.
He wasn’t the only one who noticed her enticing form. Eyes off. Mine. Liam and Conall didn’t seem to notice his displeasure, until he growled at them and tossed a pillow at his brother’s big head.
It connected with a satisfying thud, but that was short lived as he caught the second cushion Seff hurled at him. At least he had the good sense to avert his eyes and tug on Conall’s arm to follow suit. Good thing too. Seff didn’t want to punch his brother out for ogling her. Sherry Morgan in his bedroom.
“Here, we got him,” the two Wolves lifted Vasco and dragged him to the couch while Seff shoved his legs into a pair of sweats. Sherry turned her head and bent to retrieve her robe which, when she put it on, managed to conceal her sweet little figure. Boo.
“Alright, let’s get a few things clear,” Seff’s voice was raspy, and he appreciated Sherry offering him some of her tea. He hesitated, taking in her sad smile and, the small shrug of her shoulders.
“It is simply a restorative, nothing to harm you, Seff,” she said apologetically.
He didn’t think about it then. The last thing he wanted from her was an apology. She’d risked her neck for him!
He accepted the mug and drank the warm liquid without breaking eye contact. Her eyes widened at the gesture and he could see it pleased her. Trust was hard to come by in the supernatural world and he’d never bee
n one to put any faith in magic. But this was Sherry. Sherry who’d risked more than she should have for the likes of him.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice already stronger with just a single sip of the tea.
“You’re welcome.”
“This bond, is it permanent?”
“That depends. Permanence is relative, I think. But you should know it was all I could do to wake you,” Sherry bit her lip.
“And what he said about your elders, they will be angry?”
“Yes. He is correct. No respectable Witch family will forge an alliance with one who has willingly entered such a tie with another. It is a serious taboo. One that might cost me a chance at finding a mate. They will say I have purposely muddied my name in the hopes of getting out of my promise.”
“What will they do?”
“It is not your concern.”
“Yes, it is,” he growled, his impatience growing.
“I will not discuss this with you. It is my business alone.”
“Sherry, I owe you my life. I need to know how far the debt goes.”
“You owe me nothing. I have a contract-”
“Fuck the contract. Let me help you.”
“What are you saying?”
“I just want the truth,” he murmured. The spicy cinnamon scent of her drifted into his nostrils making him sway on his feet.
He itched to touch her smooth ivory skin. She was like silk, perfection in the flesh. Seff longed to sink into her softness. Her nearness was driving him mad with desire. Sherry.
“You should sit, you are still weak-”
“That’s not why I’m trembling like a newborn pup, Sherry. I can feel you, inside, calling to me, Sherry. You can’t deny this thing between us anymore,” his voice dropped to a low, deep grumble. She stopped in her tracks and Seff moved closer, purposely invading her space. He stared intently into her yellow eyes until she looked away.
“Seff, I appreciate the concern, but my deal with the Elders Trust is Witch business-”
“If it concerns you, it is my business.”
“Seff, how much do you understand about the duality of your nature as a Werewolf?”
“What? That’s quite the subject change,” he began, “At any rate, there are things I can’t share with you until I receive permission from my Alpha. You know that already, don’t you?”
“Indeed, I do. Witches may not share their souls with another as Wolves do; however, those of us who are more in touch with the old ways do owe allegiance to our craft. This deal I have made was entered into with the intent of protecting my line, my craft, my magic.”
“Okay, but what does that have to do with what he just said?”
“It is simple, you don’t need to know-”
“Dammit Sherry, that isn’t going to fly anymore. You know me.”
“Yes, I do, Seff, and I know how much you hate magic. Enough for you to leave me, to leave anything we might once have had. As for anything you might be feeling towards me now, I am sure it is a temporary side effect of the soul bonding cast, it will pass,” she turned her head away and he had to stop himself for reaching for her.
“It was never hatred, Sherry. Confusion, uncertainty, but never, ever hatred,” he whispered, hurting to see the sadness in her dove gray eyes. Seff cleared his throat and continued.
“At least tell me this, is what Vasco said true? Did you agree to be what, is it called mated for Witches like with Wolves, before the end of the year?”
“Yes, he spoke the truth. Those of us who follow the ancient ways use the term mate, though most modern Witches refuse such terminology, but really, Seff, this has nothing to do with you,” she replied, her voice laced with sadness at what could have been.
“Have you found him then? Your mate, that is,” fear gripped him as he asked. He didn’t like the idea of her belonging to anyone else. Not one bit. Because she is mine.
“Yes and no, that is, no I have not claimed my mate. However, it is true that I agreed to produce an heir for my powers within the year as long as I could do so without any interference from the Covens. However, if I should fail to find my own mate, I agreed to let them choose someone to sire the child or I risk being stripped of my powers,” she spoke without emotion, resigned to her fate as it were.
“Fuck that! Can they do that?” Seff wanted to rage at the bastards who dared threaten her.
“One Coven or two alone? Probably not. But this is the Elders Trust, they are many and powerful. Together they could theoretically do it. Not that I would allow it to come to that. I am a peaceful Witch for all intents and purposes,” she smiled as if she had a secret and he wanted to beg her to let him in on it. Not yet. You’ll soon know all her secrets though, that’s a promise.
“You would really allow them to select a mate for you?”
“I may not have a choice anymore, Seff.”
“So, what you are really saying is that in creating this soul bond with me you’ve damaged your chances to find a mate on your own?”
“Seff, please, none of this is your concern-”
“Like hell it isn’t, just answer me,” he interrupted.
“Fine, it is true. Most Witch families will not take kindly to me sharing a soul bond with another. That is a ritual that usually only happens within a family or among mates. It seems incredible, doesn’t it? That we are in the twenty-first century and some of my kind still harbor such medieval thoughts. It is true, I’ve seen it happen. Once word gets out that my soul is bound to another, I will be considered damaged goods.”
“Fuck, Sherry, I am so sorry.”
“You have no cause to apologize. I did so of my own free will. It was the only way to save you.”
“And you risked all of this for me?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“I think I have had enough questions for now, Seff,” she tried to retreat, but he wasn’t going to let her get away so easy.
Seff’s blood heated at the way she looked at him. As if she actually cared about what happened to him. Did she? Her eyes were large in her pale face as she worried her lower lip with her teeth. Seff recalled what it felt like to have those lips, those teeth, on his bare skin. Grrr.
When did he lose control over his own thoughts? He’d spent time around her before, but now, he could barely stop the carnal images from flashing through his mind. His pulse sped up at just the thought of her. Sweet, warm, loving Sherry.
But how did she feel about him? His Wolf might be cut off from him, but he could see the way her breathing increased when he stood near. She desired him, even if she didn’t want to.
The real question was, did she want to? He closed his eyes and fought the urge to wrap her in his arms. Too soon. He didn’t want to spook her. He didn’t deserve her trust. God knows he didn’t. Not after he abandoned her after one night of heaven.
How many times had he replayed that night over and over in his mind? How many times had he wished that he tore up that note? He wished that he would have told both his foster father and his former Alpha to go to hell. Most of all, he wished he’d have just stayed with her.
He’d been half a man ever since he’d left her. Witch or not, Sherry was the best damn thing that ever happened to him. He’d met her by surprise, a chance encounter on the street.
She’d been carrying a box with seedlings and clay pots into her apartment and he’d bumped into her. To repay her for breaking two of the clay pots, he’d offered to take her out for dinner.
“How about I cook for us instead?”
“Can you cook?”
“Yes. How do a couple of grilled steaks, baked potatoes, steamed asparagus, and a sliced tomato salad with sea salt and olive oil drizzled over the top sound?”
“Like heaven. I’ll buy the groceries.”
And he had. The meal was wonderful, the best he’d ever had. She was wonderful. Still is. He’d made excuse after excuse to keep running into her, until finally he grabbed his balls and asked he
r out.
They’d started dating. His Wolf senses had told him there was something different about her, something special, but he’d ignored them. Ignored all the signs that she was a Witch.
He was losing his heart for the first time in his life and damn he’d enjoyed every minute! She was the most unusual woman he’d ever met. Exotic with her lilting accent that faded in and out depending on her mood. She smelled of spices and her laughter reminded him of silver bells chiming in the clean air.
The females he’d known in the Pack tended to be a little bit hard. Perhaps it was because of their uber-chauvinistic leader at the time, but still, they hadn’t appealed to him. Not then and not now.
Thank God, Rafe was the polar-opposite of his father in that aspect. He believed Pack females, Wolves or not, were to be treated with respect and given an equal amount of freedom and the right to choose their own lives.
Something Zev Maccon abhorrently rejected. He was downright archaic in his treatment of girls and women. Women were to be kept barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen. Downright brutal. It was safe to say that no one missed the old alpha’s ways.
As happy as he was for the she-Wolves in his Pack, Seff had eyes for one woman only. Sherry Morgan. And at the time, he’d thought she was just a woman. She’d been unlike anything in his experience. Sweet, kind and caring to a fault. Did he mention hot as fuck? With that gorgeous hair and her hazel eyes, not to mention her mouth-watering figure.
She could stop traffic when she walked around in those gauzy little dresses with sheer fabric in the sexiest of places. A strip of skin at her waist, low dip revealing the smooth skin of her back, a keyhole cutout just above the cleavage of her ample breasts, long slits up the sides of her skirts that revealed her luscious legs. Grrr.
She always wore the most vibrant colors. No grays or blacks for his little Witch. Nope. A rainbow of colors wherever she went. His own little piece of sunshine. And he fucked it all up.
He’d give anything to take back the hurt he’d caused her. He tried to apologize once she started working for the Pack, but she shut down every single attempt he made. For years, he thought she hated him.
