The Beta and his Mate

"The Beta and his Witch" Chapter 4

"Your Alpha and Luna, are they okay?" Sybil asked Ethan as she watched him in the garden.

It was two days later and Ethan hadn't left her side once. He slept on her teeny tiny couch and did everything he could to help her throughout the day. Along with her magical traveling house, Sybil also had a magical traveling garden which Ethan had taken to tending. He spent hours out there weeding and picking the herbs and vegetables, even though Sybil could do it with one wave of her hand.

He did everything the hard way, Sybil thought, but she enjoyed watching him do it. The effort it took him to do his laundry by hand, make fresh pasta from scratch, squeeze the lemons for the lemonade, or make up his bed each night and morning was curious to Sybil, foreign even.

"August and Josie? Yeah, they're fine." Ethan said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he looked up at her.

"They seemed like a very strong couple. The Luna, she doesn't have a wolf, right?" Sybil recalled all the horrible things that Marlow had told them about the Luna and Alpha of Crescent Moon and she knew that most of what she had said was probably wrong.

"Yeah, she's wolfless but her father was an Alpha." Ethan said, "Something to do with a deal he made with Marlow.

Oh Sybil knew all about that deal. She nodded her head but said nothing.

"Can I use some of these? I want to make you some of my fresh pasta sauce." Ethan asked, holding up the basket of tomatoes and winking at his mate.

"Sure." Sybil shrugged.

She didn't want to tell him that she could snap her fingers and fill that basket with a hundred more tomatoes or that she wink and make cans upon cans of sauce. So, instead, she just agreed. Ethan loved to cook for her, she learned that his mother was Italian and his favorite pastime was learning to cook from her.

"Sweet." Ethan grinned, grabbing a few more tomatoes and then moving on to the pots of herbs.

He cut off some bunches of parsley and oregano leaves, tossing them into his basket. I guess more ingredients for his pasta. Admittedly, Sybil had never cooked a day in her life; unless you count potions, which most people didn't.

Ethan was sweaty as he came out of the garden and approached Sybil. He grinned mischievously at Sybil and she tensed up, preparing for whatever shenanigan he was up to. And, Sybil learned, Ethan was already up to something. He dropped the basket and drugged his head, shoving his dripping, shaggy hair into her neck and rubbing it against her skin. She shrieked and tried to push him away, unsuccessfully.

"Ethan!" She screamed and he started laughing hysterically, his shoulders shaking.

He pulled away from her neck and planted a loud kiss on her cheek before picking up the basket again and heading inside.

"You're gross." Sybil huffed, stomping after him.

"And I'm all yours, think about that." Ethan teased.

"I've been trying not to." Sybil grumbled but Ethan's grin didn't falter.

He had gotten used to her morbid humor and snide comments. He knew he was breaking through, could sense her cold exterior cracking, and he knew that he would win her over soon enough.

Ethan immediately got to work on his sauce and homemade noodles while Sybil tended to the fire, which simply meant flicking her hand towards the hearth and increasing the size of the flame. She moved her finger in a stirring motion over the cast iron cauldron, stirring the milky liquid inside.

"What is that?" Ethan asked as the aroma filled the air.

"Just a herbal tea. It helps to connect me to the spiritual plain." Sybil said, placing the lid back on the pot.