Her wolfs demands a wolf.., p.12
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Her Wolf's Demands: A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance (The Witch's Pack Book 2), page 12

 

Her Wolf's Demands: A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance (The Witch's Pack Book 2)
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  “I happen to agree with Della. Rochelle and Manual can attest to Della’s skills. She can bring a lot to our pack. However, you still don’t trust her. I won’t have you forcing yourselves to accept her for me. I want you to accept her for her.”

  Glancing at one another, the others nodded, clearly happy with their alpha’s choice. My shoulders relaxed, almost slumping as the anxiety drained from me. If I wanted to be a part of their pack – which, I kinda did – I had to gain entry on my own merit. And Malone’s assurance that he would help me with Drake had made it easier to want to become a wolf in my own right. We just had a few conflicts to get through first.

  “I was looking forward to a celebration,” Emiliah said, sticking out her bottom lip.

  Lionel glared at her, scowling when she shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. There was tension between them, pulsing across the camp. Had they fallen out because Emiliah was excited and Lionel still loathed me?

  “Oh,” Malone said, holding up a hand and wagging is finger. “We party tonight. After we’ve run, we’ll come back and get that BBQ on. Who needs an excuse to party?”

  A few whoops sounded around the camp, followed by members dispersing to go about their day. I had no idea where they were heading. Some of them returned to their cabins, while others made their way to their cars.

  Malone stepped away with Manual and Henry, talking under his voice as they discussed the change of plan. Running as wolves would have been part of the ceremony, but now that wasn’t going ahead, they would change the course and avoid the standing stones even more. Malone had already forbidden anyone to go near the stones the whole time the witches were coveting them.

  “I told Emiliah about our escapade last night,” Rochelle said, smiling at me.

  I grinned back, totally at ease with my new friend. She had softened towards me, her energy welcoming, even admiring.

  “I have to admit.” Drawing closer to Emiliah, who came willingly, I lowered my voice. “Rochelle was the brave one. I just went along with her plan. I would say it was epic, but it was more stupid. Have you ever seen a pissed off hellhound?”

  Blinking, Emiliah barked a laugh before shaking her head. “I can’t say I have.”

  Rochelle butted in, almost shoving me out of the way as she took over the story. “He was a huge-arse bastard, all evil red-eyed and shit. I mean, we did pretty well on our own, and witchy here had to give me a helping hand, but the men finished the job.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “We’ve got to give them the credit for killing the beast. Still, we gave him a good run to wear him out first.”

  Putting her hands on her hips, Rochelle cocked her head. “Exactly. It wouldn’t have been so easy if we hadn’t have–”

  “Okay, okay,” Emiliah mumbled, “I get it. You’re both amazing and saved the day. And I was here, baking a ceremony cake.”

  Stifling a giggle, I linked my arm through Emiliah’s and waited for her to pull away. When she didn’t, I looked at her seriously, my face completely straight. “Now, you don’t know me very well but my spiritual belief is based on cake being the answer to all of life’s woes. If there is one skill that everybody, and I mean, everybody, should have, it’s baking a cake. Sooo,” I went on, looking over her shoulder at her cabin door, “where is this cake and can I have some, please?”

  Lionel appeared on their porch as we fell about laughing. His glare sobered me, especially when Emiliah pulled away, patting my hand in apology.

  “I’d better go.”

  Walking backwards, she waved goodbye before turning and joining her husband on the porch. He didn’t say anything, just ignored her as she muttered something and went inside.

  My heart plummeted, pounding in my feet as he blinked once before thrusting down the steps and going around his cabin, heading into the woods.

  “What was that about?” I asked Rochelle.

  The mood had dropped like a boulder, crashing into a ravine. My new friend dropped her gaze, watching her sandal as it kicked at the grass. It wasn’t like the red-head to be quiet.

  “I understand that Lionel hates me,” I said, wringing my hands together, “but by healing him, I’d hoped he’d understand how sorry we are.”

  Licking her lips, Rochelle looked at me. “You were right to call off the ceremony to give the pack a chance to trust you. Lionel was attacked by your brother, not you. And since you’ve been here, Drake is nowhere to be seen. You claim that you’re both sorry, and yet, Lionel isn’t completely convinced your story was true.”

  A pang tightened my chest and brought a lump to my throat. It made sense that the wolves might not believe me about Drake. Malone would’ve kept his whereabouts a secret for me, but the distrust was typical.

  Almost everyone believed the stereotypical image of people with mental health issues. They were the crazies. They were always persecuted as the ones who would hurt others, and yet, the judgement couldn’t be further from the truth. And if an incident had occurred involving someone with mental health issues, it was usually nowhere near as cut and dry as reported.

  “I understand,” I muttered, moving away from Rochelle before she could feel my distress.

  She called for me as I took off, jogging towards the woods that led to the cars. Unable to look back, I shot forward, channelling my wolf spirit to give me speed. Was it wrong of me to want to rip Lionel’s throat out for feeling that way about Drake? The bigot.

  Adrenaline surged through my veins as I glanced through the trees longingly, wishing I could shift and run free in the fields beyond. What good was magic or wolf senses if I couldn’t protect my brother?

  “Della?!” Malone’s shout was terse, commanding.

  A zap of defiance mixed with longing tripped me. One part of me wanted to be alone, the other wanted to collapse into Malone’s arms and hide in bed for the rest of my life. We’d be two oldies, still humping when we were ancient and grey.

  My feet kept going until I reached the car park field. There was a small cluster of cars gathered near the edge of the wood. Malone’s Land Rover sat front and centre, the gun-metal grey glistening in the sun.

  Patting my side to feel for my bag, I swallowed and spun around, my insides twisting in knots. Malone emerged from the woods, holding up the black material bag. A halo of sun highlighted his brown shaved hair and strong jaw. I took a shuddery breath, literally breathless from not only his rugged beauty, but his strength and power. And of course, his ability to soothe my jittery soul.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out to cup my cheek. “You’ve gone pale.”

  A footstep behind him caught my attention, and I quickly nodded, fake smiling up at him as I took the bag. Feeling the canvas painting inside, I sighed, relieved that I hadn’t lost the only thing that might give me answers.

  Manual came out from the trees, his hands tucked into his jeans pocket and floppy dirty blonde hair almost covering his light eyes.

  “He’s coming with us,” Malone said. “He knows our witch very well.”

  Winking, my man took my elbow and guided me to the car, opening the door so I couldn’t run away. Not that I was going to, not if it meant that Manual could help us get the answers we needed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Whispering an extra protection spell, I braced myself as I climbed out of the car. Malone was beside me, taking my hand and leading me across the road.

  The streets in Brighton were packed with tourists and children, all swarming the shops and heading to the pier. My brain was on high alert, my gaze checking everyone.

  There. Two witches walked past, chatting happily together and ignoring me completely. Good, I could relax knowing that I couldn’t be seen by witches from my own coven.

  “Through here,” Malone muttered, pulling down his black baseball cap.

  We entered a small cobbled walkway, not dissimilar to the Lanes. Luckily, we were the other side of the park, away from my shop.

  Shit, I missed my shop. The longing to smell the incense and feel safe in my sanctuary intensified as we neared several wooden doors, hidden behind a small wall.

  Manual brought up the rear, checking around to make sure no one saw us enter the small house. He wore blue jeans with a red check shirt and brown boots. He looked like an English cowboy, all pretty and confident.

  Knocking on the door, Malone stood back and put an arm around my waist. Awkwardly trying not to look awkward, I kept my arms at my side and resisted the urge to pull away from him. It was strange, standing on another witch’s doorstep with a wolf’s arm around me. Wouldn’t she instantly get the wrong idea about me? Although I knew I shouldn’t care what others thought, I couldn’t help but shift uneasily on my feet.

  “Okay?” Malone asked me, nudging me in the side with his hip.

  Nodding, I plastered a smile on my face as the door unlocked from the inside of the house. I gripped my shaking hands together, frightfully nervous for some reason. I was more comfortable in the company of wolves nowadays. It had been a while since I’d spoken to a witch I trusted.

  “Hi,” the lovely witch greeted, gesturing for us to come inside.

  Her waist-length mousey hair brushed against a pretty floral maxi-dress, swinging when she tucked it behind her ear. The light of her grey eyes brightened when they landed on Manual.

  “Come in!”

  Standing back, she gestured enthusiastically, smiling at me as I passed her. I smiled back, catching her infectious energy. There was no judgement, no scowls, and certainly no jealous glares. Maybe there would be a chance for me to have a witch friend outside the coven, after all.

  Malone led me into the living room, quickly making himself comfortable on the huge grey corner sofa. It looked like he’d paid the witch a visit or two in the past.

  “Been on that sofa a lot, have you?” I asked, ignoring his invitation to join him.

  A very slight pang of annoyance made me avoid his questioning gaze. Instead, I inspected the living room, admiring the cosy cottage style and brick fireplace. There were several dreamcatchers and fairies decorating the room.

  “I’ve never had any untoward dealings with Laura. I told you, her and Manual… You know.” He waved his hand, hissing the last part as their voices grew louder.

  My cheeks grew warm as the pair walked in. She looked up at Manual, giggling as they made small talk. Oh shit, she was besotted with the wolf. And on the journey, Manual had been talking about another woman he’d just started to see. Poor girl.

  “Laura,” Malone said, “this is my mate, Della.”

  A grin spread on her pretty face, brightening it as she came over and threw her arms around me. I patted her back, laughing stiffly.

  “It’s so good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about the infamous hybrid-witch. What’s it like living with these mongrels?”

  Yep, I liked her instantly. “It’s okay. Except, they have this incessant need to puff their chest. Why do wolves do that?”

  Chuckling, Laura shook her head. “Because they need so much space for their wolf brawn, there’s no room left for a brain.”

  The men watched on, bemused expressions lifting their eyebrows as we fell about laughing. It was good to be light-hearted and less serious. I hadn’t felt that in so long.

  “As entertaining as you are,” Malone started, “no really, you should start a double act…” It was their turn to laugh. “… We need your help, Laura.”

  Tilting her head to the side, she smiled at me before rolling her lips together. “I’ve heard what’s happened with your coven. I’m sorry about that.”

  Unexpected emotional pain gripped my chest so hard, I couldn’t breathe. Instead of replying, I nodded, unable to find the words to thank her for her compassion.

  Going to the coven headquarters as an enemy had been easy in the moment, but sensing how hard they were trying to keep me away, fucking hurt. A lot.

  “Anyway,” Laura went on, “how can I help you?”

  She moved to Manual and draped her arm over his shoulders. He winked at her, playfully tickling her under the arm.

  Malone glanced at me, a small smile lifting the corner of his lips. So the wolves did have intimate relationships with other paranormals. I hadn’t expected that. I’d been too busy setting up my shop and being a sister to pay much attention to the romantic relationships of others.

  “This isn’t usual,” Malone said, clearly reading my thoughts. “Manual…”

  “He has a taste for women, however they come,” Laura interrupted. “The rules don’t apply to you, do they?” She winked at the Casanova. “I call him a wolf-aniser.”

  Her tinkling laughter warmed my chest. Okay, so it wasn’t really that funny, but they were cute together. And for once, I didn’t feel weird being the only witch attracted to a wolf.

  My gaze roamed to the alpha as he sat back and shrugged, getting comfortable as the others joked between themselves. They were easy together, sparking off of one another, instead of being full of angst.

  Laura knew that she wasn’t the only woman in Manual’s life, and yet, she didn’t seem to mind too much. Unless she was hiding her true feelings from him.

  Malone watched them before looking at me, a nostalgic expression crossing his face. Did he miss being free to be intimate with other women? Or was it the easy way they interacted, laughing without a care in the world?

  My stomach knotted as I swallowed, not sure if we’d ever get to that place. Emiliah had insisted that as soon as the bonding ceremony had been completed, all my doubts and insecurities would ebb away. I almost wished I’d agreed to go ahead with the damn thing now.

  “Right!” Laura blurted, jumping up from where she’d been perched on Manual’s knee. “I’m being rude. What can I get you to drink? Wait…” Holding her fingers to her temple, she closed her eyes briefly, clapped her hands and smiled. “… No need to tell me.”

  Three steaming mugs appeared on the small table in front of the couch. The smell of coffee slipped up my nose, soothing me like a balm. No matter how dire a situation was or how stressed my brain got, coffee fixed it.

  Almost grabbing up the mug, I thanked her. A witch who served coffee without being asked? I was comfortable already.

  I was about to pull out the painting when I hesitated. Could I trust the witch? She might be friends with the Brighton Pack, but I didn’t know her other associates. Maybe she was friends with Ertha, too?

  “I don’t mean to pry,” I said to Laura, sitting in the armchair next to the couch.

  Frowning, Malone tightened his jaw, clenching it tight. I didn’t blame him, I had just snubbed him in the most obvious way.

  My own chest heated as he sat forward, tapping the wooden table with his finger.

  I wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to communicate to me, but I understood why he was pissed. If the situation had been reversed, I would’ve screamed like a banshee, decrying the fact that he wasn’t showing solidity by being beside me.

  Almost tripping to my feet, I trotted around the table. I had to pass Laura, who stood nearby, and squeeze past Manual without knocking his knees. Ugh. Awkward.

  “Your coven…” Sitting down, I almost fell into Malone, whose arm came around me, catching me against him. “… are you… from around here?”

  My stuttering question might have been framed innocently but everyone knew what I was asking. I should’ve just been more direct. Directness had never been my strong point, I’d been too afraid to upset anyone. However, I was no longer the cowering child who was shy and only wanted to play with my brother. I had to make friends in order to defeat my enemies.

  “Oh, bollocks,” I swore, shaking my head. “We need your help, but I need to know whether I can trust you. Now, I can pussyfoot around the issue at hand – namely if you’re in league with my ex-bitch elder, Ertha – or, I can just ask you outright.”

  “Which will it be?” Laura’s lips twitched, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

  “Erm… the latter. Are you in anyway associated with Ertha and the Brighton Coven?”

  That tinkling laughter stroked my skin, washing my nerves and worries away. Throwing her hair over her shoulder, Laura tossed her head, shaking it vigorously. “No, I’m not. I’m a free spirit. I’m originally from the South West. However, I got bored of hiding who I was. Especially when I couldn’t help but predict everything that happened in the village long before it did. People soon grew suspicious, and you know, I couldn’t face a witch trial. I hate water. The dunking would have ruined my hair.”

  Manual’s eyebrows creased up and the corner of his eyes wrinkled as he stared at my new best friend. Well, second new best friend. Wow, I had more friends than ever before. And it wasn’t even the end of the day.

  “They don’t do that to witches anymore, do they? I thought it had been outlawed way back when,” Manual added with a grin.

  “Anyway,” Laura said, tapping him on the nose. “No, I’m not in league with Ertha. She has requested I visit the coven many times, but I’ve refused. You can trust me, I swear.”

  Inclining my head, I glanced at Malone, who nodded his agreement. He’d clearly been friends with the witch a while and she was probably the one he was going to ask to bind my wolf. The thought of it scared me suddenly, gripping my chest and forcing me to cough.

  What had happened to my plan to bind the wolf once Drake was safe from Ertha’s wrath? Had it gone out of the window? I kinda didn’t know anymore. Being a wolf was amazing. And yet, my mind kept returning to Drake. I would never leave him behind. But Malone saying he would protect him… sure put a new spin on things.

  Taking a deep breath, I dug the painting out of my bag and placed it on the coffee table. Laura’s eyes instantly traced the brush strokes and a smile came to her face.

  “Ah, Drake’s Mason’s painting.”

  “You know Drake?”

  She barked a laugh as her cheeks turned bright red. “I do. Very well.”

 
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