All Chapters of Wolfs Right: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

- It's me. - Slamming the door, Mila wearily sat down on the bench and took hold of the lock of her boot.“Mistress,” a housewife flew in, jumping onto a woman’s knees, “and he,” he poked at a crow walking along the floor, “sniffed all the bubbles in your closet, looking for something!” Huge green eyes narrowed suspiciously. - He wants to steal!“Stupid,” drawled the raven, “what kind of fool would rob his witch?” What kind of helper am I then?“That's what I'm talking about. The housewife rolled from foot to hand, following the witch. -Pest! No matter how I look, you stick your beak everywhere, you slam the doors.- And you! - The raven caught up with the offender and tried to peck. - Have you already told everyone that you go in the service of a witch?- Quiet! Mila screamed. And without you, my head hurts.- So let me pour some tea, brew it with lime blossom. — Domovik stopped dancing at his feet. He jumped up, rumbled a full teapot on the iron grate and smiled. - I baked cheesecak

Did you see his face?! the witch laughed. A headwind ruffled her golden hair, and tears appeared in her eyes. Clutching a raven to her chest, Melissa rushed away, occasionally looking back at the scarlet glow.“I saw it,” the raven croaked angrily.“Oh, I'm sorry,” for the fun and joy of liberation, the witch did not at all think that Pascal needed help. “Be patient,” she covered the bird from the headwind with her palm, accelerating.She sank down in the predawn haze, stepping onto the soft grass. Melissa brought the familiar not home, but to a place of power - a lost clearing in a deciduous forest. Here, any living creature could receive help, whether it was a wounded animal that accidentally wandered under the crown of a century and a half oak or a witch, exhausted and exhausted. The girl sank down under the crooked branches covered with young leaves, laid the crow at the roots of the tree and, leaning her back against the gaunt trunk, sat down beside her, ignoring the dew that mad

Andras was sincerely surprised that he fell into such an elementary trap. “ How could you not notice the witch circle?! - scolded himself. - As if for the first time a trap was set not on the floor, but on the ceiling! lamented the Grand Marquis. - No wonder women are called "witches" even those who do not have a witchcraft gift. They will confuse their heads without sending visions. All these tricks, seductive outfits, languid looks, smooth movements and sharp phrases that remain in memory for a long time . Namely, in this witch, who stood opposite, everything that Andras was thinking about was combined. He could have sworn he had never met a dozen of such women in his life. Witch. Goldilocks. Intoxicating with her mere presence. The embodiment of a cocktail of femininity and pride.Forgetting himself, the Grand Marquis leaned forward and was able to take a step. Without thinking about how he escaped from the witching circle, succumbed to the impulse and dug into the plump lips of th

“This is not how I envisioned my first coven. Melissa looked at herself in front of the bathroom mirror. The reflection smiled wryly and reached out with trembling hands to the neck of the bloody shirt.The witch left the holiday as soon as she received the permission of the Supreme, but before that she had heard enough of the mockery of other witches and enjoyed the incessant chatter of the demon in her head. But Andras was tired of harassing her with stupid questions, or he was simply busy with something else, more useful, and now there was a pleasant silence in his head.“And I didn't imagine it that way. - The raven turned to the wall and answered absently, examining the ornament on the tile."Don't we know how perversely dreams come true," Melissa laughed.Her fingers nervously touched the marks left by the nails of the Supreme: on the forearms, collarbones, thighs and shins ... Dirty-burgundy streams of water descended over the stomach, legs and disappeared into the dark drain h

- Well. Melissa dropped her backpack at her feet and looked around.Andras's room was a study: shelving, armchairs, a fireplace, an ottoman, two desks, one littered with books, thick leather-bound albums, sheets of notes and empty packages of nuts, the second is clean, but with black marks on the surface."Don't you want everyone to see what a slob you are, Grand Marquis?" She tossed the rubbish into a basket at her feet and flipped through a couple of open books curiously.“The Holy Inquisition,” she read the title of one of the works. “Heavy,” she took the book and put it down. - So, what do we have? "The Powers of the Elemental Witches," an entertaining read. She opened it about half way through and ran her eyes over the yellowish sheets. “Pffff, what idiot wrote that? If you read, so the Great Flood is our work.Putting aside the books, Mila sat down on one of the easy chairs, then sat on the second one, noting the comfort of the furniture. And with lust she looked at the ottoman: