by Tamsin Ley
Ashlyn came to a stiff halt halfway up the steps. Kepler had mentioned a pack, but she’d thought they would only hurt her if she couldn’t control her wolf. She stared at the witches a few steps above her, relieved she felt no urge to harm them. “Kill me? Why?”
The older woman studied Ashlyn. “Shifters are little more than animals.” Her upper lip curled with what Ashlyn could only consider disdain. “They destroy what they don’t understand.”
Kepler’s handsome face flashed in Ashlyn’s mind. He hadn’t tried to kill or even hurt her. He said he wanted to protect her. He’s special, though. Her wolf agreed. When Kepler told her not to leave the house, she’d assumed it was so she didn’t hurt anyone else. But what if it was to protect her from other shifters?
“Ashlyn, this is Tessa, our coven leader.” Muffy grabbed Ashlyn’s arm, pulling her the rest of the way up the steps. “Tessa, we have to help her.”
Tessa sighed and pulled the door closed behind her. “Fine, let’s have a look.” She moved past Ashlyn down the stairs. “Bring her to my conservatory.”
Muffy nudged her to follow, keeping close behind Ashlyn as they walked the grass path between the garden beds, wisps of mist swirling in their wake. In the backyard, a small greenhouse with crenelated iron ridges and gables sat among late-flowering yellow shrubs. The glass walls were fogged over, masking the interior from view, but the moment Tessa pushed a sliding door aside to let them inside, the smell of warm soil and fresh sap hit Ashlyn. Three rows of potting tables took up the entryway, but then the space opened into what looked like a fairytale.
A huge, smooth-barked tree grew in the center of a circle of stones, and the ground beneath was a carpet of golden, lavender, and blue wildflowers. Tessa crunched over the gravel between the tables and stepped into the circle.
“How does this all fit into the greenhouse?” Ashlyn asked.
Muffy answered, “It’s a sanctuary of sorts, a safe place to access strong magical energies. I can’t really explain to someone who hasn’t studied magic.” She nodded in encouragement and nudged Ashlyn forward. “Go on.”
Hesitantly, Ashlyn stepped over the stones and onto the wildflower meadow. A breeze caressed her cheek and running water trickled somewhere in the distance. The greenhouse walls faded from view, leaving her surrounded by nothing but meadow as far as she could see. Ashlyn glanced over her shoulder to where she’d left Muffy, but it seemed as if everything on the other side of the circle of stones no longer existed. “Can Muffy still see us?” she asked.
“Yes.” Tessa bent and dipped her fingers into a tiny pool of water set among the gnarled roots of the tree. She flicked droplets into the air where they hovered like diamonds. Ashlyn gaped, unsure she was seeing right as Tessa repeated the motion until a sheet of droplets hovered in the air between them.
Amazed, Ashlyn asked, “What are you doing?”
“Casting a scrying spell. I need a closer look at your aura before we try to cure you. Take a deep breath,” Tessa commanded. “This won’t hurt, but you might find it a little disconcerting.”
Muffy’d mentioned looking at her aura when she came into the bakery. Ashlyn inhaled deeply, stiffening as the sheet enveloped her. Although she could still see the meadow clearly, the thin film of water made her feel as if she’d just plunged into a cold ocean current. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and pressure buffeted her from all sides, throwing off her equilibrium. In her head, her wolf flailed as if trying to reach the surface.
Tessa green eyes deepened to almost black and her mouth moved, but Ashlyn couldn’t hear what she said, only strange pinging and warbling that reminded her of flexing sheets of metal.
A howl rose above the metallic noise, her wolf no longer curious, but terrified.
Ashlyn couldn’t exhale. Couldn’t inhale. Couldn’t move. Between herself and the witch, what felt like a chasm opened into another reality. A landscape of colors and shapes beyond anything that existed on earth. The scent of ash drifted from the breach, and a coldness reached for her, sharp as glass. Her mouth gaped to echo her wolf’s cry.
Then the water that bound her evaporated. She collapsed to the ground, every muscle shaking as she tried to process what happened. Directly beneath her paws, the carpet of wildflowers had been rendered to blackened ash. Above her head, she heard voices, but they made little sense. Unstable. Shifter. Hellmouth.
Every instinct Ashlyn’s wolf possessed knew that chasm had held death. Worse than death. Damnation. She had to get away. The pinging and warbling she’d heard lingered at the back of her mind, no longer the sounds of sheet metal, but more like an approaching storm. She couldn’t get it out of her head.
Then somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound struck a chord deep in her chest. Steadied her. Brought her paws back to Earth. Kepler.
Lifting her muzzle, she let loose a cry that made the tree’s leaves shiver overhead. Her wolf was in control. Her wolf would protect her. Her wolf would take her back to Kepler.
She lunged from the circle, the foggy greenhouse walls re-materializing around her. Without slowing, she crashed through the greenhouse siding. Glass penetrated her thick fur, cut fiery lines into her flanks, but she kept going.
Kepler, I’m coming.
Chapter Ten
Kepler and Cal stuck to the trees when possible, the afternoon fog helping them stay out of sight of traffic until the trail left the highway. Panting, Kepler turned onto a narrow, leaf covered lane. Ashlyn’s scent had almost disappeared as the overpowering ozone smell of witchcraft grew stronger. There was more than one witch involved.
This is coven territory, Cal’s voice flooded his head.
Kepler almost stumbled. Only mates or pack members could communicate while shifted. Kepler sent back, You talking to me?
Been listening to you count witches for the last ten minutes.
Kepler had experienced whispers of his Alpha power like this before, an inkling of what leading a pack might be like. He’d always pulled away and shielded himself, wanting to avoid any such ties so he could focus on his career. Now he was grateful for backup. We may have a fight on our hands.
Bring ‘em on, Cal growled, never breaking his stride. His russet coat blended well with the dark autumn foliage, unlike Kepler’s own pale gray. Fucking witches.
Ahead, a tall wrought-iron fence loomed from the mist surrounding the damp gray tree trunks, forming a palisade of spears. The carpet of leaves under Kepler’s paws cushioned his footsteps as he approached the gate. Magic radiated off the barrier, a ward he was certain would be painful or maybe even kill him if he tried to leap over.
He sat on his haunches and growled.
What do we do now? Cal asked.
My mate’s in there. Kepler shifted to his human form and took a step toward the entrance. “Guess I’m going to knock.”
You’re naked, man, Cal said, remaining in wolf form as he moved to block Kepler’s path. They aren’t going to let you in.
Kepler couldn’t care less that he was naked. All that mattered was getting to Ashlyn, or at least stopping whatever the witches were planning to do to her. For the first time, Kepler regretted not being part of a pack. Not having immediate access to backup. “Go for help. I’ll try to stall whatever the witches have planned for Ashlyn until you get back.”
Without waiting to see if Cal complied, Kepler approached a keypad near the gate. Beyond the fence, running footsteps caught his attention as a big, amber-ruffed wolf appeared from the mist. Ashlyn! She was safe and alive. The wolf raced toward the gate with determination in her gaze. Kepler guessed her intent a moment before her body coiled to spring, his stomach flipping in alarm. “Ashlyn, no! It’s warded!”
She cleared the fence in a graceful leap, but at the apex, her body convulsed in a shower of sparks. Her fur dissolved, and her limbs lengthened. She hit the ground in human form, sliding to a stop on her side against the wet leaves.
Kepler rushed over. “Ashlyn!”
She lay in a fe
tal position with her eyes closed, sides heaving and pink and blue hair tangled with leaves and twigs. Long scratches along her ribs seeped blood. He reached for her, furious the witches had hurt her. Her eyes flashed, and she bared her teeth, struggling to sit upright.
It took him half a second to realize her gaze wasn’t on him. It was on Cal.
He spun to find the russet wolf with his paws braced wide, lips pulled back from his canines in a ferocious growl. The dark guard hairs on his ruff stood on end.
Kepler held both palms up. “Cal, it’s okay. This is Ashlyn.”
No words of response entered Kepler’s head, only a snarl and a snap of teeth.
At least this answered the question about whether Kepler’s mating instinct was unique to him or not—Cal obviously felt no attraction to Ashlyn at all. Holding one palm up at the wolf, Kepler moved forward, infusing his voice with Alpha power. “Stand down, Cal.”
Cal’s yellow eyes flashed. Then, in a flurry of copper sparks, he shifted back to human form. He thrust a finger toward Ashlyn. “She’s not a shifter.”
“What’re you talking about? You just saw her wolf, Cal.”
“Can’t you smell it?” Cal whispered roughly. “She’s wrong, Kepler. All wrong.”
Kepler turned back to Ashlyn. She sat with her back against a tree, both arms wrapped around her knees. The ozone scent was strong on her, as well as her amazing natural wildflower honey scent, but laced beneath was something more primal and raw. Blood. Wet leaves. An odor like burning coal. What spell smelled like that? He didn’t know enough about witches to guess. “That’s just the witches you’re smelling, Cal. It will fade.”
Somewhere on the other side of the fence, a car engine rumbled to life. A woman’s voice floated through the fog, “Call everyone. We have to find her.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Kepler whispered, taking Ashlyn by the elbow. “Can you walk?”
Although the cuts on her side had already begun to heal, Ashlyn blinked at him as if he spoke a foreign language.
Letting out a worried breath, he lifted her. She looped her arms around his neck as he carried her into the woods.
Cal followed sullenly behind, pushing through the undergrowth. After they’d put some distance between them and the fence, Cal asked, “Isn’t that the woman from the bakery?”
“Yes.”
“She’s… something’s not right. Not normal. We need to tell the pack. Hell, we need to bring the whole Council in on this one.”
Kepler grit his teeth. “Not until I know they won’t hurt her.”
“What if she hurts you?”
Kepler rounded on him. “Does she look capable of hurting anyone right now?”
Cal stopped, concern darkening his freckled face. “You’re under her spell.”
“She’s not a witch.”
“She’s also not a shifter.”
“Fuck you, Cal. She’s my mate.”
“You haven’t claimed her.”
Kepler’s teeth lengthened, pressing against his lips until his words slurred. “I’ll claim her right here and now if that’s what you need to prove she deserves protection.”
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t protect her. I’m saying we can’t do it alone.” Cal took a step back, his eyes flashing copper. “I’m going to tell the pack.” In an explosion of sparks, he shifted and disappeared into the fog before Kepler could say another word.
Exhaling a long white plume of air, Kepler continued hurrying the opposite direction. A part of him knew Cal was right. They needed help. The strange smell on Ashlyn wasn’t fading, and he knew in his heart what that meant. She’s been cursed. But with what?
Ashlyn’s arms tightened around his neck. “What’s claiming?”
Kepler stopped walking, realizing he and Cal had been speaking about her as if she wasn’t there. “This wasn’t how I wanted to have this conversation.”
“You said I’m your mate.” Her voice had a sexy rasp to it that made his balls ache.
Looking into her eyes, he was glad to see the glazed look had gone away. She was so beautiful, amber cheeks flushed and lips slightly pursed. They were far enough from the witches’ compound to take a breather, so he set her gently on her feet, keeping a hand at her waist to make sure she stayed upright before speaking.
“Every shifter has a perfect mate somewhere in the world,” he said. “When we meet him or her, our wolf knows. It’s fate. We can choose to accept the bond or reject it, but our wolves will always desire each other.”
She stood motionless for several heartbeats, the forest’s silence like a held breath. Finally, she asked, “Is that what I’m feeling?”
Relief flooded through him. She feels it, too. He wanted to pull her close and kiss her, to run his hands through her hair and breathe in her honey scent. “Yes. We’re mates.”
Her eyes flashed blue, and he knew her wolf was giving approval. Hex or not, her wolf was real. Their connection was real. He lowered his lips to hers. She responded by putting both hands around his neck and kissing him back.
After a lingering moment, she broke the kiss to look at him again. “The witches were going to try to remove the curse, but I don’t want to anymore. Especially if it would send my wolf to that place.”
He frowned and pulled her hands from his neck so he could step back and look at her, still holding her wrists. “What place?”
“The coven leader was investigating my aura. But the spell she cast…” Ashlyn shuddered and hugged her arms around herself. “I swear, she opened a portal to hell, all roiling color and chaos. They even called it a hellmouth. My wolf didn’t like the magic. I didn’t like the magic. I shifted, and we ran.”
“A hellmouth.” The pit of his stomach felt like he’d just taken a bullet. His sister-in-law had used that word over the phone.
He dragged in a breath, sensing Ashlyn’s wolf along with the slightly off scent he and Cal had argued about. It must be the lingering scent of the hellmouth. The Source was in essence a hellmouth, too, a portal that allowed shifter animals to find their hosts. He’d never been there, but her description resembled the stories he’d heard.
Taking her hand, he continued walking between the trees. “Remember I told you about the glacier, the Source for shifter magic?”
She nodded.
“Normally, a shifter who finds a human mate takes the human there to discover the new shifter’s animal. But when we first met, I was too clueless to recognize you as my mate.” He ran a hand through his hair, thinking about his first visit to her bakery. The shop had been busy, and the scent of baked goods so pervasive, he’d obviously missed her. But her wolf had recognized him. “I think your wolf was impatient. And we know she’s a strong Alpha. I’m guessing she found another way to you.”
Ashlyn pulled her hand free from his. “But the rogue… are you saying my wolf caused that shifter to get sick?”
Pausing at the lip of a shallow ravine, he shook his head. “The shifter outbreak started before we met. Your wolf just took advantage of an opening.” He jumped down and held out a hand to Ashlyn. She took it and leaped down beside him. As they followed the gully, he described what Darcy had told him. “The magic is forbidden by the covens because it opens a hellmouth, a portal that can allow demons and other monsters through. In your case, it let your wolf through.”
She halted and covered her mouth, eyes going wide. “Cal said I’m not a real shifter. Does that mean my wolf is a demon?”
Kepler cupped her face between both palms and looked into her eyes. “You’re my mate and your wolf is real, no matter how you got her.”
“But am I a real shifter?”
“You’re going to discover that not all supernaturals get along. Shifters, witches, vampires—they all look down on each other. It’s like racism among humans. To me, it doesn’t matter. You’re my mate and that’s all that’s important.” He kissed her lightly and once more took her hand to keep walking.
She was silent for a short while bef
ore she said, “Would going to the Source make me a real shifter?”
“If you already have a shifter form, drinking from the Source will swap your animal out. You’d lose your wolf and end up with a moose or something.” He shook his head, thinking about recent rumors about exactly that happening to a shifter up north.
Ashlyn giggled, then quickly sobered again. “Don’t make me laugh. This is serious. The witches said I was unstable.”
Unstable. How many times had he been called that in his youth? His mom used to joke about how he and his brother Adrian would never find a mate to calm them down. His heart thudded against his ribcage as he realized there was another way to stabilize a shifter’s animal. The mating claim. Many shifters discovered a calmer version of themselves after claiming a mate. What if that was all Ashlyn needed?
He stopped next to a fallen tree and faced her. As they’d been walking, the mist had cleared, and a flock of wild geese flew in a V overhead, their honking barely audible in the brilliant blue sky. Sunlight made the golden leaves carpeting the ground look like something out of a painting. He pushed an errant strand of pink hair behind her ear. “We could try completing the mate bond. It might stabilize your wolf.”
She stepped closer and ran both palms up his chest to once more circle his neck. “If claiming involves what I think it does, then what are we waiting for?”
He restrained himself, taking one more deep look into her eyes. “I want to make sure you understand. A claim means we’re bonded for life. We’ll be able to hear each other’s thoughts, feel each other’s emotions. As a shifter, you’re going to live longer—hundreds of years, maybe. With me. You’ll never be able to be with anyone but me.”
She leaned into him. “And you with me?”
He nodded, the desire to taste her lips making it difficult to breathe.
She lifted her chin, bringing her mouth close enough he could feel her whispered words on his skin. “Then I’m yours.”
Chapter Eleven
The witch sat in her rental car and gripped the steering wheel with both hands, refusing to look at the empty bottle strapped in the passenger seat. Well, not empty, exactly. Below the edge of her sunglasses, she could see a hint of swirling lavender light within the brown glass.
