SableMy entire body stiffens, mirroring the postures of the three men around me. My fingers are still pressed to my chest where I can sense the magic inside me. Before the noise came from outside, my magic was light and fluttery, as if it were a butterfly in my chest. Now, as adrenaline rockets through me, the fluttery feeling has turned to a thick, rolling turmoil. I’m surprised the black marks aren’t visible on my skin, though I’m thankful they haven’t appeared since I don’t seem to have any control over them.I freeze as more rustling from the backyard filters into the cabin, followed by a small whine.All three men are on high alert, like wolves with their hackles raised as they stare at the open window over the kitchen sink. They’re so stone-faced and still that they look like statues, and I wonder if they’re even going to move at all. Trystan is the first to stand, his face hard as he stalks quietly to the front door.Archer and Ridge stand to join him, so I do too. But Ridge h
SableHis hard torso anchors me to the present. I lean against him and bury my face against his t-shirt, taking a couple deep breaths until the lump in my throat fades and the tumult of magic inside me calms. Ridge’s scent surrounds me—woodsy and spicy and uniquely him.It’s one of my favorite smells in the world, and it was even before the man himself came to mean so much to me. Now, I think I’d bathe in his scent if I could.Finally, he pulls back enough to give me a sweet kiss with just enough heat behind it to make me forget how awful I feel. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s go help Dare.”Inside the cabin, Trystan and Archer have already stretched the injured shifter out on the couch and are back in the kitchen, digging around for supplies. Archer’s filling up a bowl with hot water and soap, while Trystan’s rifling around in the pantry.“Doesn’t this stupid cabin have a first aid kit?” he gripes over his shoulder as we appear in the doorway.“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom,” Ridge r
SableThe clock on the wall audibly ticks away the minutes as I sit alone in the kitchen, agonizing over the way Dare looked at me.My fork scrapes against the plate as I move the remaining eggs around, but I can’t bring myself to take another bite. The food I already ate before Dare came back to us has turned into a hurricane of nausea inside me, and if I eat anything else, I’m afraid I’ll throw up.So I just finish my orange juice instead, thinking fondly of Trystan’s awkward shuffle back to the table with the glass. He was sweet then, reminding me that there’s a nice guy under all that macho bluster of his.I may not understand what it’s like to be a shifter or to lead a pack, but I do think I’m starting to understand my companions. Trystan comes off like an asshole a lot of the time, but I feel like maybe he just overcompensates with his “alpha-ness” when he feels like things are spinning out of control. I can understand that motivation. I’m still trying to work on a coping mechan
sableMy cheeks burn. Hearing them list all the ways in which I’ve been in danger makes me feel like a weak little kid who shouldn’t be allowed to do anything without supervision.From his place near the coffee maker, Archer goes on, switching gears. “Obviously, Dare’s leg is a situation that needs addressing,” he says, crossing his arms. “But we also need to address that there’s a very real chance Dare has witches on his trail now.”Ridge scrubs a hand down his face. “Dammit. I didn’t even consider that.”I sit up straighter, a pang of fear rolling over me as I process what Archer’s implying. “You mean witches might be following Dare here?”“I’m not saying it’s a definite,” he assures me, “but it’s a possibility. He specifically sought them out to fight them. To kill them, not to make negotiations. They aren’t going to just sit back and accept that level of threat. He’s put himself, and all of us, in serious danger.”“Please.” Trystan scoffs. “The witches won’t be able to step foot o
ArcherI’ve always been well-organized and clean, maybe even to the point of mild OCD. So living with four other people for the last few weeks has been an interesting experiment and a definite test of my patience. The differences between me and my cabin-mates is more apparent than ever right now as we try to track down our belongings in the madness and chaos of the small dwelling.I’m folding a handful of Ridge’s shirts into a bag when Trystan strides into the living room, looking frustrated.“Where’s my shirt?” he demands.I pause in my folding and exchange irritated glances with Ridge, who’s on the other side of the couch shoving supplies into another bag. Between us, Dare is sound asleep, seemingly unbothered by all the commotion. Or too drugged up on painkillers to even notice.“I haven’t touched your shirt,” I say evenly, dropping a t-shirt on top of the folded clothes inside my bag. “What did you do with it when you took it off?”Trystan and I arrived here with literally only th
SableArcher’s promise to help me come to grips with the witch magic has lifted a weight from my shoulders.I don’t know how much he’ll be able to tell me. He’s a wolf, after all, not a witch.But I won’t be alone in this.I won’t have to face it on my own.With a slightly lighter heart, I snap my backpack into place and follow the men out to the clearing in front of the cabin. I’m still not comfortable with their current plan of breaking laws and putting other shifters in danger, but now I have a future plan that gives me something else to focus on.I’ll figure out how to master my magic, and how to control it.The sun is high, filling the woods with warmth as we congregate outside the cabin. Ridge’s arm is around Dare’s waist. The injured man hobbles along beside him while Archer carries two bags and Trystan the third. The drugs in Dare’s system have turned his dark gaze glassy and unfocused. It’s haunting to see, but at least I know he’s not in much pain anymore. Once Dare has his
sable I don’t know these lands the way the shifters do, but as we set out, I can tell we’re taking a different path than the past couple times we arrived here at the mating cabin. Dare takes the lead, limping at a surprisingly quick pace for how injured his left leg is. I hate the thought of him up ahead, pushing through a debilitating haze of drugged-up pain, all alone with his own thoughts.I wish I could comfort him, but he’d only push me away if I tried.We jog for a while, though the only indication of passing time is the sun’s path across the cloudless sky. We pass over bare, rocky terrain, through a deep ravine, and into the soft cool shadow of a thick forest. The terrain is beautiful here, and more than once I find myself lost in the spectacle of it. It’s no wonder the shifters choose to live out here in the wilderness, surrounded by the mountains and the huge, blue Montana sky.After a while, the landscape begins to pass a little slower, and I glance at Dare just slightly ah
SableThe late afternoon air is hot as we leave the healer’s cabin.Part of me wants to remain behind and keep an eye on Dare. Not just because we’re leaving him half-conscious and with a total stranger—which would be grounds for absolute terror if I were in his shoes—but because I feel somewhat responsible for his current state.But I know if I say that out loud, I’ll get a lot of blowback from the other three men about how it’s nobody’s fault but Dare’s for running out into the wilderness and picking fights with witches.Maybe it’s because I’ve done my fair share of dealing with shitty things in my life, but I’m more inclined to see that Dare’s behavior had a trigger, and that trigger was me becoming a witch. So in a roundabout way, it is my fault. I’m still hurt over him running away, and over the way he’s rejected me even being near him since he showed back up. Mostly though, I hurt for him and the deep, underlying pain he feels over the loss of his pack. I’m not stupid enough to