Blood & Wine

16 | Eden

Even though he had disappeared into the woods, Changed, I still felt him.

When I closed my eyes, I could track my cousin. I knew where he was in the woods, how fast he went—damn near what he saw. I could feel the tension in his bones, that desire to be free escaping with each leap and bound he took. I knew he was bloodthirsty and angry, wanting to tear something into pieces but holding back. I knew the rest of the werwolves surrounded him, welcoming him as one of them even though he belonged to me.

At least for now he did.

Eventually I would have to let him go if the Moon Goddess was anything to go by, but I didn't want to. Already I had come to enjoy the witch-wolf. The witchling puppy.

I returned to my book, but I felt uncomfortable now. My skin itched with his feelings, that connection we shared overpowered in his werewolf form. A part of me wanted to run free, too, tumble through the woods with my naked body, shedding all the responsibility on my shoulders. Even if was just for a night.

I did envy the werwolves that. They did not have much responsibility on their shoulders, and the only one who received punishment were the Rogue werewolves—the ones who did not belong to a pack to protect them. The ones like the werwolves who killed Dasher's family. My family.

Speaking of family...

It had been weeks since I called my mom. I had no signal in this part of town, way out past the werewolves' sector. This wasn't even in Magus, but about twenty minutes away where no human went. I had barely been allowed here, but a threat to make Fynley impotent and decrease Jagger's size went a long way.

I also had promised no magic unless it was necessary.

So I had been reading my book some distance away, occasionally looking up to see how Dasher was doing. Watching a werwolf Change for the first time had been painful to see. Knowing how he felt—hearing him scream, picking out his growls and snarls amongst the growls of the others—was even worse.

Calla had to be sick right now. She was spending the night with Ezekiel to take her mind off of it, but I knew she felt everything Dasher was feeling. As was the way of the Empath. Many people discredited her particular talent to influence emotions, thinking it was necessary. However, I knew the truth: Calla could cause a war if she wanted to, and the goddess knew she wanted to, and the only thing stopping her was me.

One day, though, when I was ready, when we were both ready, I would let her loose on everybody who had wronged her.

If I didn't get to them first.

The thought brought me a breath of warmth in this cold ass woods. Apparently, before I got here, Fynley had gotten some poor, terrified pushover witch to cool it down. It was easier on the werewolves for them to have cool temperatures to shift. I, already being cold-natured, was currently shivering.

I could walk the two miles back to my car, but then I'd risk getting ripped into pieces by a freshly Changed werwolf. Dasher would also be prone to coming after me, thinking I was in danger. And if someone did come after me, werewolf or otherwise, it would cause tension between Dasher and the werwolves. The last thing I needed was an accident happening—Fynley would somehow turn it around and force my hand at giving Dasher up to him.

I'd just shiver here then.

Shiver and read this book.

Calla was right, though—it was an amazing book. It had the right amount of tension, sexual chemistry, and accidental touching. I was almost to the part where they had to share one bed, but I wanted to read it when I felt more at ease and less like I was going to take off running and never come back.