“What?” I say, busying my hands.
“More muffins. The last batch was delicious. I’m going to go shower,” he says, though there’s a glint in his eye and a smug smile on his face.
I can’t help but find it attractive.
The third nail aggressively bangs itself into place.
It feels like we’re getting nowhere. No one can find any information that isn’t already speculated from thirty years ago, and Iris doesn’t seem to have any idea on how to reverse this spell either.
So, I spend my days pretending that everything is fine, even if the necklace in my drawer haunts me daily. I continue my lessons with my grand-mère, I do my daily duties as the coven’s healer. But most notably, every night, the sound of an old Harley down my driveway lights a fire in my chest.
Sometimes we eat together, sometimes we say nothing. But lately it’s like a craving is festering away at me.
I need a distraction from my husband.
So, I bought a puzzle. A puzzle is a completely unsexy way to share the same space and not be tempted to touch.
Silas made himself clear. Unless I know what I want. AKA if I’m going to embrace my wolf, or accept him wolf and all, then there’s no point to this attraction.
I’m no step closer to a decision. Even if I have been tempted to put the necklace back on. It’s evident that the necklace is what ties me to my shifter side, because Azure has been silent. I don’t hear Azure the way Silas hears Thorin, and I haven’t felt the ache to shift.
I could toss the necklace away, destroy it and my life would go back to normal, just as soon as we get a divorce.
Is that what I want?
The alternative could be losing my coven and not being accepted by the pack. I could have Silas, but I’d lose everything else, and I’m not sure I can make that decision either.
I need this hex removed so I can fucking think clearly.
It’s easier to just sort the puzzle pieces by exterior and interior so that’s what I’m doing as Silas walks through the door. A gash across his face, trickling blood down his neck and over his lip.
“What the hell happened?” I ask.
He waves me off and sits down on his chair at the dining table. When he claimed a chair, I’m not sure, but that’s the one he sits in now.
“It will heal by tomorrow,” he says, as I grab a washcloth and cover it in warm water before coming to stand between his legs and press it against his face.
“What happened?” I ask again softly.
“There was a challenge for being Alpha.”
“And they did this?” I ask. He doesn’t even wince as I clean up the blood, just stares at me while he speaks.
“You should see the other guy. When I fell, I hit my head on a branch. It’s just a scratch.”
“Why were they challenging you?”
He shrugs and I sigh, grabbing my jar of healing salve before setting it on the table.
“Why?” I ask again.
“Because they don’t agree that we should make peace with the other supernaturals. They think we should be pack strong and that’s it.”
I stick my fingers into the pinkish wax like salve before grabbing his chin and putting it along the gash.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” he replies.
