by Haley Weir
The native woman buckled. The others hesitated before coming after her.
Charlotte dodged another blow. She used the momentum of her opponent against them and rammed her shoulder into the other woman’s middle. Hands gripped her shoulders, and Charlotte was thrown onto her back. Four bodies laid on the floor, gasping for air. She scrambled on her hands to get away. Charlotte kicked back, pounding her bloodied feet into someone’s face. A shard of crystal came loose from where she held onto the wall. Charlotte blasted them with her magic and knocked Kaia out with the crystal.
With one last surge of courage, Charlotte threw herself out of the portal.
An unnatural chill swept through her body, and she stumbled through the other side, landing in what appeared to be a hovel of some sort. Charlotte used the soft, rotting wood of the walls to stand and limped toward the door. Snow and ice hit her in the face, chilling Charlotte to the bone as she made her way to the bottom of a hill. She could barely stand for more than a few seconds without falling into the mounds of snow. One step at a time, she walked into the blanket of white that obscured her vision.
Furious shouts brought back the memory of her guardian Baxter.
Charlotte pushed on.
She had to warn the others. She had to warn Wesley. Her darling Wesley had haunted her dreams since Ethan had taken her. Charlotte cried into the wind. Her cracked, bloodied feet shuffled along the harsh terrain as she struggled to see more than a few inches in front of her face. The wind whipped her hair around and stung her cheeks. Her body was caked with dirt, blood, and sweat. The tattered remains of her clothes hung loosely over her shoulders.
What had started off as an opportunity to learn how to fight and use her power had turned into torture. Ethan had grown impatient with Charlotte when she refused to reveal Wesley’s weaknesses. His impatience had festered into rage, and he ordered Kaia and the others to teach her a lesson. Each ragged breath that escaped her was proof of that. But Charlotte refused to stop.
In the distance, she heard the sound of horses and two voices bickering.
“Help,” she croaked, but they could not hear her over the howling winds. “H-help.”
Charlotte’s muscles cramped and ached in retaliation as she forced her battered body to keep moving. A stream of blood trickled from her nose, and she breathed deeply, pulling her mouth open wide as she screamed, “Help me!”
The horses stopped, and Charlotte collapsed into a pile of snow. Ice surrounded her and strong hands wrapped around her arms. Tears flooded from her eyes only to freeze against her cheeks. “I...I need Wesley...please...I need Wesley.” Her throat burned from the raw winter air. How long had she been gone? How long had she endured so much pain? The familiar scent of leather, mint, and spice reached her nose. “Wesley?”
“I got you, sweetheart. I got you.”
Charlotte hiccupped and burrowed into his chest, trying to hide from the agony that befell her at the hands of his enemies. A soft kiss brushed against her temple, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He climbed into the saddle with her in his arms. “I’m taking you home, Charlotte. And I ain’t never letting you go. Not ever again.”
She sensed the presence of another person—the one that had been arguing with him. Beth’s face appeared in the midst of the snowstorm, and Charlotte smiled at her surly friend. Beth’s eyes were red as she handed a blanket to Wesley, and he used it to bundle her up. She saw the sadness and the anger in Beth’s gaze, but none of the pity she expected. Charlotte wanted to thank them, but part of her wondered if this was just another of Ethan’s cruel tricks. What he intended to do to them—no, to the world, she corrected—was unthinkable.
But in that darkness and cruelty, a light had been born.
Wesley was everything she needed and more. “I love you,” Charlotte whispered. And for a moment, she allowed herself to dream that he had returned her affection. But sleep took her away to a place where there was no pain.
Chapter Nine
Silver Fox Ranch
Charlotte was tucked against Wesley’s chest as he stopped his horse beside the stables. The snowstorm slowed significantly, but the chill kept her curled up in his arms. Wesley slid from the saddle carefully, and she released a ragged breath, burrowing into his shoulder to find some warmth. Bruises and cuts covered her lovely face. Though Wesley hadn’t been the one to put them there, he felt responsible for them. In his mind, he was no better than whatever creature had harmed her.
He pressed his lips into a tight frown and said nothing as he walked her towards the house. Abigail, Boone, Jesse, and Itsá came running out to meet him halfway, but he refused to release Charlotte.
“What happened to her?” Abigail shouted. “Take her to my office; she needs help—”
“I’m taking her home. No one gets close to her, understand? We don’t know what state her mind will be in when she wakes up.” Wesley adjusted his hold on Charlotte. “Beth and I heard her screaming. Wandering through the storm covered in blood and tears. Wherever they held her was nearby. Beth can show you where it was. One of you might want to see what he was up to before we lose track of his movements.”
The others bombarded him with questions, but he shoved past them as Charlotte curled her fingers into tight fists around the fabric of his coat. She was fragile but not weak. He would not let her be broken by that animal that sought to steal her spirit. Wesley took the stairs two at a time. Itsá warned him that if he failed to protect his mate, bad things would happen, and they had. Each and every cut on her body had been made by his enemies.
Wesley carried Charlotte into his bedchamber as servants gawked and whispered amongst themselves. He kicked the door shut and lowered her onto the bed. Wesley hurried down to the kitchen and out the back door. He ran to Abigail’s office, where she had been leaning in the doorway with a knowing smile. She handed him everything he needed, and Wesley raced back to his room. His hands shook as he unrolled bandages and set them on the bedside table.
She shivered, and Wesley noticed how blue her lips were.
“Charlotte?” he called. “Are you alright?”
“Wesley?”
He sat on the edge of the bed and used a pair of scissors to cut open the torn dress that clung to her skin. Charlotte flinched when his hands pulled the fabric free from her limbs. He glanced down at the dark bruises that peppered her torso. “Shh, don’t move. I’ll take care of it,” Wesley whispered.” He gently prodded against her tender ribs and felt the knots in his gut coil even tighter when he noticed the older injuries on her body. “What happened to you, sweetheart? You might have the face of an angel, but you ain’t lived a pretty life, have you?”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she brushed his cheek with her hand.
Wesley saw the exhaustion in her eyes. Charlotte looked so small and fragile as she stared up at him. Her beautiful gaze sparkled up at him with a faint smile curling on her lips. “I dreamed about you. Even when I lost all hope, My Wesley was with me. You saved me.”
"No,” he argued. “I did not save you, Charlotte. You saved yourself. I was the one that was weak, and you brought me back from the brink."
She attempted to sit up, but Wesley gently eased her back onto the pillows. Charlotte held his hand and kissed the back of his knuckles. “You never gave up, did you?”
He shook his head. “You’re mine, Charlotte. I ain’t fighting against us anymore; I’m fighting for us. You can try to leave me all you want, but I won’t let you. I need you by my side. My life ain’t nothing without you in it.”
"What changed your mind?" Her words were whispered softly as her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. “About me, I mean.”
Wesley leaned forward and uttered a small phrase he had heard Itsá use to speed up healing before moving lower on her body.
"Wait!" Charlotte squealed bashfully. “This is improper.”
Wesley picked up a damp rag and the bowl of warm water. "Sit still, Charlotte. Let me take care of you. I’ve be
en foolish. I’m man enough to admit that I was wrong about you. You were never the problem. It was me." His hands slid over her belly and circled her hips, washing away the blood smeared along her curves. Wesley licked his lips and silently berated himself for allowing his thoughts to stray.
Charlotte blushed and tried to hide behind her fingers. Her skin began to heat up with his touch, causing patches of flushed pink to appear against her once-tanned complexion. "Abigail could have managed this, Wesley. You did not have to tend to my wounds."
"I’ve seen your scars, Charlotte. There ain’t an inch on your body that isn’t absolutely beautiful in my eyes. There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he replied as he drained the water from the rag. "Taking care of you is my duty, one I failed at more times than I care to admit. You’re my mate, and I failed to see just how special you were. It should not have taken you risking your life and getting captured for me to realize that."
Charlotte nodded and tried to hide her bashful expression beneath the corner of the pillow. “I may be your mate, but that does not mean you share my affections, Wesley.”
"Well, it’s true that I haven’t yet learned to love you, but the feelings are there. In fact, I want you to be my wife.” He watched her eyes widen and smiled to himself. “When you are ready, of course. I ain’t keen on rushing you into something you might regret.”
"I would never!" she gasped. “I love you, Wesley. It would make me very happy to be your wife.” The smile on her face was blinding.
"We will have to talk about what happened to you. You’ve been gone for nearly an entire month, Charlotte. If that monster did something to you, then I need to know what it was so I can make sure that my words or actions never cause you to fear me.” He waited with the rag in his hand, giving her time to think before he continued cleaning her raw skin. “Take your time.”
Charlotte wrapped her arms around her middle and averted her gaze. He allowed her that small illusion of privacy. Wesley clenched his jaw and set about washing his future bride carefully. She winced, and Wesley kissed the place on her body where she had not been injured. Her breathing returned to normal, and Charlotte finally spoke. “I was taken into a portal of some sort,” she began. “It was cold, and I felt sick. I woke up in some sort of cavern with crystals growing out of the walls. And there was magic…”
“It’s alright. Don’t force it.”
“I’m still struggling to comprehend it all,” she sighed.
“Portals are rare. Not even Itsá is able to cast them. He can move quickly, sometimes so fast that we can’t even see him, but never portals. It’s something that defies the laws of nature. Most of the tribes have come to distrust witchcraft.”
Something in her expression changed. “And how do you see witchcraft?”
“I think all power is dangerous, whether it comes from magic or not.”
Charlotte grew quiet, staring up at the ceiling as Wesley moved to wash her legs. “There were four witches that visited me every day. They performed a ritual that allowed me to see a terrible future, to see what would happen if I joined Ethan. I pretended for a while. They trained me to use my magic and how to fight. But then he asked me to betray you.”
“You were hurt because you were protecting me? Charlotte, no one has ever stood by me the way you have,” he muttered sheepishly. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”
“I do not want you to. I just want to know what happened to me.”
“It ain’t that simple, darling. If these witches were from different tribes, then they had their own way of drawing upon the energies of the Earth. Each tribe has their own way of doing things. In fact, most of the tribes broke apart and merged with others as the borders were settled. You might have to ask Itsá, but I ain’t too sure what even he could tell you about that.”
She chewed her bottom lip and brushed his hand with hers. “It does not matter.”
“How so?” He wrung the rag out in the basin and dropped it on the bedside table. Charlotte stiffened when he began to bind her ribs and bandage the damage that had been done to her body. Wesley traced the older scars with the tips of his fingers and watched chill bumps appear on her skin. “Why doesn’t it matter?”
“Because I have you,” she answered. “That’s all I need to know.”
Wesley climbed up her body and hovered over her. He took Charlotte’s hands in his own. “Show me your power.” He whispered the spell Itsá used once more, and she followed his lead. Her lips moved, and the sounds blended together until he heard nothing but the beautiful hum of their words. There was no world beyond them.
When the spell came to an end, Wesley asked, “How do you feel, Charlotte?”
“It doesn’t hurt as much. But...I like your hands on me, Wesley.”
He watched her throat work as she swallowed and leaned down to smell the scent of her skin. Charlotte’s hands moved to his back, and her tiny nails prickled through his shirt. Wesley stood up and lifted the garment over his head, leaving his chest bare to her eyes. She licked her lips and blushed wildly. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “There is not one inch of you that I do not adore, Charlotte. I mean it. I might be a lot of things, but I ain’t a liar.”
“You...desire me, Wesley?”
He smiled down at Charlotte. “What makes you think that?”
Chapter Ten
Silver Fox Ranch
“You’re looking at me like I’m beautiful,” Charlotte giggled nervously. Wesley’s spirit was strong; it wrapped around him like a cloak. No matter how much she tried to focus, her body would not let her see anything beyond the dimpled smile he cast upon her. She licked her lips and raked her gaze along the contours of his muscles, getting lost in the fantasies that played out in her mind until she was numb to everything that wasn’t Wesley.
“What do you want, sweetheart? You keep looking at me like you want to take a bite out of me.” There was humor in his voice, but it did not distract from the intensity that swirled around him. Wesley desired her. He wanted her in ways that no one else had. “If I had my way, I’d have you in my bed every night. There’s no use in me denying it anymore.”
Charlotte’s mouth went dry as she stared into his eyes.
“I ain’t the sort of man who wants to control his wife, but if we take that step and I learn the way your body yearns for me, then you won’t be able to run, Charlotte.”
A thrill went through her. Wesley did not hesitate as he climbed back onto the bed and straddled Charlotte’s hips. She gasped as he leaned down, kissing every inch of her throat until he reached her ear. “Don’t ever think I’m a good man. Tell me to stop, Charlotte, or I may not be able to hold myself back from claiming you right here.”
The heat that radiated off of Wesley’s body warmed Charlotte as he lowered himself on top of her carefully. Her hands slid along his sides and rested on either side of his face. “I never want you to stop, Wesley. I’ll take whatever you can give me.”
His lips moved to the curve of her shoulder, and he bit down until her back arched off of the bed, pressing her chest against him. The lingering ache in her bones no longer seemed important as Charlotte’s body experienced things it had never felt before. Lips floating hovered over the pulse in her neck. “I was afraid of losing you,” he admitted. “I ain’t ever felt that kind of fear before.”
Charlotte’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as the bulge of his erection pressed against her. She rocked her hips, causing him to groan. Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, and his eyes locked on her mouth. Charlotte was only seconds away from begging for him to take her, but someone knocked upon the door.
Her body arched towards his and she hissed in pain, but it was worth it.
“What?” Wesley barked as he pulled away. He leaped from the bed and stood in Charlotte’s view of the door as it was forced open. “You better have a good reason for being here.”
“There’s been an attack in the grazing pastures. Boone and Sam are out there now. I was ju
st waiting on you. Put your damn shirt on and get to work,” Jesse stated grimly.
“Who attacked us?” Wesley pulled on his shirt once more and grabbed his discarded jacket. He kissed Charlotte’s forehead and shoved his feet into boots. She pulled herself off of the mattress as Jesse waited in the doorway.
“It’s the witches,” Charlotte said. “Kaia and the others. They’re here for me.”
She followed Wesley’s lead and dressed quickly, but Charlotte left behind her skirts in favor of the trousers Beth seemed fond of. She found them easier to move in and made a mental note to praise the other woman’s good taste. Abigail was able to fight in full skirts, but Charlotte found herself tripping over her own feet more often than not.
Charlotte limped down the hall while gritting her teeth.
She continued to mutter healing spells over and over until the final twinge in her ankle subsided. Charlotte would have been proud of herself if there hadn’t been a war raging just beyond the protected lands of the Silver Fox Ranch. Her foot hit the bottom of the stairs, and Charlotte hurried out the front door. The sound of gunshots rang through the land.
Beth ran right towards her, breathing roughly as blood dripped down her side. Charlotte shoved her shoulder beneath Beth’s arm and hauled her up. Sweat beaded up on her brow as she helped her friend inside. “Is anyone else hurt?” Charlotte asked.
“Those heifers came out of nowhere! One minute, Jesse and I were rounding up the cattle that escaped during the storm, and in the next, an explosion blew up one of the outhouses. I looked over and saw four women with glowing orbs in their hands.”
“They knew I was coming here,” Charlotte snapped. “I should have known not to come back. I should not have run from them.”
Beth grabbed her and met her stare. “No matter what happens tonight, you did not deserve what those things did to you. You belong here with us, Charlotte. You belong with Wesley.”
