Cael

Cael's POV

The word twisted in my chest like a blade.

Witch.

I almost let out a dark and bitter laugh. Of course, the goddess would tie me to one of them. A cruel, sick joke. A punishment, I’m sure. A bastard like me doesn’t deserve a normal mate. Witches worked alongside the High Alpha of this damned world. The chosen one, the one the moon goddess supposedly blessed. And now fate had the audacity to make a witch my mate.

This couldn’t become more of a messed-up night. First, the humans pissed me off, and now, my mate is a witch.

She clutched the worn leather bag tighter, as if it were protecting her or maybe trying to shield herself from me. My eyes stayed on it and on her, and the faint shimmer of her magic that swirled in her hazel eyes. Does she even know what is inside that bag? Is she working with the alpha of Duskreach?

I will have to reject this bond. I refuse to accept her as my mate. Whatever she is carrying, it appears to be dangerous. I could smell the potent magic coming from it.

And yet... gods help me, all I can think about is her lips, parted slightly, and her scent. Fuck. That scent of hers is driving me wild.

I should’ve walked away, I should’ve ignored her scent and had better control over my wolf. I should’ve turned and left her to whatever deal she was tangled up in. But my wolf wasn’t having it.

It pressed harder against my skin, restless, snarling. Protect her. Claim her. Take her with us.

Her gaze flicked over to me, assessing, and I could tell she felt a pull towards me, because her stance became more guarded. Not a damsel and definitely not fragile. She isn’t afraid of me, even when I knew damn well she could feel my power; she can sense my wolf. Her chin tipped higher, with a stubborn look in her eyes. She is testing me.

A sudden urge comes through me, I want to step closer and see if I can scare her and break her.

Rejecting this bond will be damn hard. Taking a deep breath, I focus on the matter at hand, a witch delivering something to a member of the Crescent Moon pack.

Instead, I asked, “Who are you meeting?” My voice came out like a command, not a question.

Her lips twitched like she wanted to laugh, and her eyes, those damn eyes, gave me a look of defiance.

“Excuse me?”

I leaned in, close enough to inhale that lavender-rain scent again, close enough that my wolf went wild. Clawing again inside me, demanding I shift. “Don’t play games, witch. That bag you’re holding, who is it for?”

She clutches the bag tighter to her chest, and for a split second, panic flickers across her face before she masks it.  “None of your business, wolf.”

That should’ve been the end of it, no more words. I should snatch the bag from her, let her go, and be done with it. But damn it all, something burned hot and primal deep in my chest, clawing and tearing at every shred of discipline I have left.

I can deny it, and I hate the truth that I’m facing. But she is mine.

And the gods were cruel, so cruel. The burning that is pumping through my chest, the need to make her mine, is clouding any judgment I have.

Damn it.

I grab her elbow, and she jumps with surprise. She tries to move away, yanking her arm with. My grip is strong, I smirk down at her. “Not today, witch.” I pull her towards the bar door. I refuse to let her meet up with anyone, and for now, I’ll keep her close. Because, as the saying goes, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

If the witches are teaming up with wolves once again, I need to hurry and speed up my plans. I was keeping a low profile and building up my own pack. I guess this little witch is what I need for my plans. Maybe having her as a mate won’t be so bad after all.

***

Hana’s POV

Tonight sucked, so much for dropping off this bag and going home. Now this stranger is pulling me towards the door. Is he going to kill me? I know wolves, and witches don’t really get along. It’s been centuries since they fought together in a war. I have too many questions to ask my grandma later, if I survive.

First things first, I need to get rid of this wolf.

His grip burned against my elbow; it was filling my blood with a rush of heat as he dragged me toward the door, like I was just a feather. My pulse thundered in my ears, louder than any music or voices in this stupid bar.

Who the hell did this man think he was?

I jerked against his hold, but his hand only tightened. Not painful but firm, like iron wrapped in velvet.

Heat kept spreading through me and down into my chest. I hated how my body is reacting, like some savage beast is pounding in my head, begging me to lean closer to him.

No. Absolutely not.

I shoved back the strange flutter, forcing my voice sharp. “Let go.”

He glanced down at me, eyes dark and unreadable, and for a second, it felt like the room tilted. His gaze pinned me in place, wild and heavy, as if he could see straight into my chest and pick apart every secret I carried.

Something inside me twisted a tug I couldn’t explain, pulling me toward him, demanding I stay close. My breath hitched before I could stop it, and I quickly looked away, clutching my bag tighter.

I wasn’t stupid; I knew how wolves acted. They are dangerous, merciless, and Alphas are the worst of them all. My grandma had warned me again and again, never let a wolf into your life, or let one catch your scent or touch your skin.

They are passive assholes.

Yet, here I was, practically being hauled out of a bar by one.

And gods help, he smelled way too good. Like cedar and pine, I swear this man lived in the mountains with snow year-round. It seeped into my lungs, begging me to inhale more of him.

FUCK!

Snap out of it, Hana.

I dug my heels in, forcing him to stop just short of the doorway. I refuse to let this man do whatever he wants, nope. I will go down swinging. Though my heart was racing like I’d sprinted a mile. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not going anywhere with you.”

For a moment, something flickered in his expression, surprise, maybe? Or frustration. His jaw tightened, and he leaned closer, so close his breath brushed against my ear.

“You don’t have a choice, witch.”

The word cut sharper than a blade, even though I’d heard it spat at me my whole life. This time it felt different, dangerous. His voice was becoming more primal than a normal man. His eyes are burning brighter and glowing. He wasn’t just naming me but claiming me.

My magic surged at the edges of my skin, ready to spark if I had to. He must have felt it, because his grip shifted slightly, not letting go but not pushing harder either.

I swallowed, meeting his gaze again, refusing to look away this time. “You don’t scare me.”

A smirk tugged at his lips, slow and infuriating. “You should.”

The worst part? My traitorous body didn’t disagree, actually practically begged for him to show me why I should be scared.