Page 48 of The Witch’s Daughter

The witch breathed a sigh of relief. “I knew you’d know what to do. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

“Safe travels.” I nodded, taking my leave.

“Wait, Alpha. My name is Emily, by the way.” She smiled at me as she rested her hand on my forearm. “The night is young. Let me show my appreciation for your help.”

No fucking thank you.

I studied her delicate fingers. The half-moons of her nails pressed into my skin, gripping me with an intensity that pulled at my Alpha sensibilities.

A branch snapping in the distance had me baring my teeth and pushing the witch back to keep her safe as a strange new sound echoed through the trees.

19

Trish

Uncle Jareth, Aunt Kera’s mate, had something called ‘speakers’ that projected music from a box. Another piece of forgotten technology from when the human and natural world lived as one. Here, music played from somewhere in the woods. It was a pulsing, living, magical thing that came as easily as it did when the basses thumped on those human speaker devices.

It was also loud enough to create hidden alcoves in the cocoons of trees where groups of twos and threes were tucked away. Music covered their sounds. The woods made converging in one place difficult. Or these groups preferred to be alone. With drinks in hand, and lips otherwise engaged, it seemed the party was already underway.

I didn’t know where to find Charles.

But I was careful not to interrupt the paired-off lovers who seemed to want their secrecy in the shadows. My eyes stayed forward, searching for that skinny warlock, as I picked my way over roots and under branches.

Just up ahead was a path lit by the moon filled with all sorts of scents. I didn’t sniff too hard. The air was charged with sexual energy that made me twist and squirm in my skin.

Watch out, my wolf warned.

I stepped back, giving room for a giggling woman to come running past. She was naked from the waist up. Her free breasts bounced with each step and her hair blew behind her like water rushing down a river. She looked so happy. So beautiful and free. I was no better than a man for watching.

But certainly better than the half-shifted wolf-witch who chased after her, howling.

I didn’t see him before.

He must not have come to the trials.

“There you are.” An arm slung over my shoulder. I turned, seconds from extending my claws to rip through the male’s chest.

“Charles,” I breathed, sheathing my claws. “You’re just the warlock I was looking for.”

“I prefer male-witch.” His smile was a little lopsided as he leaned against me. “Warlock sounds so… evil.”

“Male witch it is.” I laughed, feeling my hope for tonight slip through my clawless fingers. He was wasted.

“Come on,” he cried. “I promised you wine.” By his gait, I had to wonder how much he’d had of this wine. As wolf-shifters, it took absurd amounts of alcohol to get to that level. Our bodies burned it off too fast.

As a warlock—er, male witch—his biology was mostly human. Like Mom. She was known to enjoy a good scotch, but I’d seen Dad carry her to bed a few times.

My hope kept fading with each stumbling step he took. Charles wouldn’t sober soon. I was lucky to even find him before he passed out.

“Thanks for inviting me.” I didn’t want to be rude, and I caught him before he tripped over an exposed root. “This is… fun.”

“Psh.” He waved me off. “The fun is over here. No, there. Right where I left my wine.”

I gently corrected his course before he led us straight into a tree.

Told you this was a dumb plan.

I sighed, wondering if I’d need to carry him out of here. “Maybe we should get you back to your tent.”