Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Thirteen

At around abouts midday, the werewolf stopped listening to the satnav. He seemed to recognise where they were and led them off the way of the main road down a series of country roads. The way was riddled in potholes that her poor little Beetle barely managed to get over.

How the humans had managed these roads before vehicles were a thing was a mystery to her.

At least she had the enjoyment of watching the King struggle. In his home, he'd have luxury. Here, he travelled in a car too small for his long legs and too low for his height. Each time they hit a pothole, his head smashed against the roof.

Suddenly, Evie's enjoyment skyrocketed.

Better yet, she knew that he knew. Each time she struggled to stifle a laugh, he'd level her with the stink eye. As if the lack of luxury wasn't already bad enough, her amusement at the matter made it that little bit worse.

Needless to say, he was not enjoying himself.

This terrain was better ran in wolf form, only they had the baggage in the boot and the King knew better than to throw something like that on the witch this early. If he told her to climb up on his wolfish back, she might just lose it.

Eventually, the path widened and the fields grew further apart. A house- if you could even call it that- sat in the middle of the area, tall, prim and proud.

Naturally, even the Alphas didn't slum it.

Her car looked out of place parked in front of it. A house like this needed something black and fancy. Her yellow Volkswagen Beetle was anything but.

Lorcan left her there to go open the place up. He punched in a code- a code she wasn't allowed to see- and gave the door a push. Unfortunately, she understood his reasoning. He wouldn't have to worry about her getting away if she had no means of opening the doors. A sad truth but a truth no less.

"Are these ties really necessary?" she asked as he set to work slashing them. His body was leaned over hers as he tried to reach behind her. Her scent and her neck so close to his mouth were both so very enticing. He didn't know whether to mark her or kiss her. "We both know I have no chance of getting away."

"I can't trust you," he said simply.

"And I can trust you so much more." He set about slashing the ones around her other wrist, pretending not to hear her commentaries. "What's the worst I can do? I'm not James Bond. You won't catch me rolling out of any cars anytime soon."

"I don't know who James Bond is."

"Of course you don't." She gave him a pearly white smile, a mocking edge to it like usual. "What's the worst I can do? Your reflexes are better than mine. If I tried anything on the wheel, you'd be able to stop me. You could kill me before I even had this door open."

With the zip ties removed, she flexed her wrists out. They were bruised again. He tried hard not to look and headed for the boot. He slung her duffel bag over one shoulder and grabbed her bag of herbs. Then- just as the witch finished shutting her door- he barrelled into her, catapulting her body over his other shoulder.

Her complaints were instantaneous.

"The fuck do you think you're doing asshole?"

Oh yes, she'd definitely gotten cocky.

"Carrying all my baggage."

He felt her nails digging into his back. "I'll bite you."

"Do your worst."

"It's cute that you think I'm joking." She kicked and huffed. "I genuinely will bite you."

"Good. I hate it when they skip the foreplay."