Page 14 of His to Hunt

I also need to call Saul while I’m not overwhelmed by the presence of my mate. He’s the oldest member of Silver Pack and knows Alphas even older than him. If anyone can help me understand this spell, he can.

I climb to the top of the building across from the diner. It gives me a good vantage point, and the building appears to be deserted, so I shouldn’t have to worry about anyone noticing me. I put my backpack down, remove my phone, and sit down on the roof as I dial Saul’s number.

“Victor?” Saul asks. “I didn’t expect to ever hear from you again. Did you find your mate?”

“Yeah, I found her,” I growl. “But there’s a fucking problem.”

“Trouble? If you need us, just say the word,” Saul offers.

“It’s not that kind of problem,” I snarl. “Mother Fate didn’t bring me to my mate. Some sort of spell did it.”

“Magic? Really? Where are you?” Saul asks.

“Covington,” I say.

“Hold on, let me find my old maps,” Saul mutters, and I can hear him stomping through the bunker. Paper rustles for several minutes before he speaks. “Covington was full of witches and warlocks centuries ago. That’s where a lot of them fled after the Witch Hunters started burning them at the stake in Salem. But eventually, the Witch Hunters made it to Covington, too.”

“That was a long fucking time ago,” I grumble. “My mate is no witch. Not a real one, at least. Just a foolish little girl playing with magic.”

“Well, the good news is that if the mating bond was created by magic, the spell can be broken,” Saul says. “I’m assuming you want to break it?”

“Of course I want to break it,” I snap, my stomach tightening in protest. “I thought Mother Fate finally remembered me, but she had nothing to do with this. How do I undo this bullshit?”

“There are many types of spells. If it was one powerful enough to create a mating bond, then it’s old magic. Is there any bitterness in her scent? You can usually detect bitterness when a mate bond is magical,” Saul says.

“Yeah, her scent is fucking bitter,” I growl. “Sweet, but bitter. It got a lot stronger when I got to Covington.”

“If the bitterness is that strong, it sounds more like a curse than a spell,” Saul sighs.

“A curse?” I snarl angrily. “She put a damn curse on me?”

“Not intentionally. When people who are too weak to control real magic try to cast old spells, the magic curdles. It becomes a curse,” Saul explains. “Believe it or not, that’s a good thing, too. Weak curses are even easier to break than spells.”

“Glad something is finally going my way. What do I need to do?” I ask.

“Is there any way you can find the spell she cast? I need to see it,” Saul growls.

“She mentioned it was from an old book she found at her grandmother’s house,” I mutter. “I don’t know if that’s where she lives now, but I can find out.”

“Okay, call me back as soon as you find it.”

I end the call and consider my options. Taryn is at work. My instincts demand that I stay close. Watch her. Make sure she’s safe. But if I’m going to find the spell, I’ll have a better chance while Taryn isn’t home. That’ll be easier than forcing my mate to tell me. I might lose control before I can finish interrogating her.

I hurry through the streets of Covington until I can safely shift and finish the rest of the trip on four paws. Every mile I put between us makes my chest get tighter. My instincts want me to turn around, but I ignore them.

Once this spell is broken, I’ll be free from the madness. Free from her scent. Free from the images burned into my mind that are keeping my dick semi-hard.

But first, I have to find that fucking spell.

CHAPTER 5

Victor

When I get to the hill that overlooks Taryn’s house, the other car is gone. I assume that means the house is empty. If it isn’t, I can subdue whoever is inside. They won’t be any match for me.

I shift into human form, get dressed, and continue on foot. There are more cars on the road now. A few neighbors are pushing strollers, walking dogs, and jogging down the sidewalk. That’s fine. I’m good at staying out of sight, even in the daylight. It’s just easier when I don’t have to be so careful.

Once I make it to the sliding glass door, I make sure there’s nobody nearby and examine the lock. It’s a simple mortise lock. Cheap. Careless. It wouldn’t stop anyone, especially me. There isn’t even a security bar to keep someone from forcing their way in. I give the door a firm tug, lift the hook over the latch, and slide it open.