Page 38 of Werewolves and Witches AU

Milo nods. Then shakes his head—no. Pulling that lip back between his teeth again, he nods once more.

“Sit, Pup.” I tell him, allowing a little alpha command to slip through this time.

Milo releases his lip in favour of scowling.

Ignoring him, I take a large step over a creased hoodie and a half-eaten croissant to right the fallen chair. Thankfully, he sits without further prompting, and I squat down in front of him.

“I can pack it for ye, if ye can tell me where things are?”

“Am I coming back with you? To the house? With the Dogs?” Milo’s eyes, wide and earnest, scan my face.

I give a curt nod, mildly irritated by the insinuation that after what just happened I’d have him anywhere other than under my direct care. Taking a deep breath, I aim to settle us both. “It can be a lot, the first time ye see a wolf-out…”

Milo snorts. “Is that actually what it’s called?”

The corner of my mouth tugs upward into a small smile. “Naw, but it’s pretty accurate.” His returning smile changes the aspect of his whole face, and something about it settles my wolf. “Are ye hurt, Milo?”

He cocks his head sideways, a puzzled expression replacing the tentative humour of a moment ago. “No, but you are.”

Milo reaches forward and takes my hands from where they dangle casually between my knees. The blood on them has dried now, and he turns them over to freely examine them. I can’t help but notice how much larger and rougher than his they are.

“Not my blood, Pup, but yer concern is noted.”

Milo blushes, yet he takes the time to lower my hands gently back down. With his gaze fixed firmly upon them, he opens his mouth as if to ask something, then closes it again. My encouragement for whatever he wants to know is on the tip of my tongue, when he stumbles over asking, “I, erm… I don’t even know your real name, but I’m pretty sure you just saved my life.”

His blush deepens, and I find myself hesitating to answer just so I can watch it spread across his high cheekbones.

“Rowan.” I clear my throat. “Rowan Rangecroft.”

“Ranger…” he muses out loud.

Nodding, I drop out of a squat and onto my arse to be more comfortable, then lean to one side to pull free the hoodie from beneath me. I hand it to Milo.

“What ye did back there, the way ye held yer ground and got him talking, that was really brave. And really stupid.”

Milo’s bitten lip drops as he pulls in a shocked breath.

“Ye had no idea I’d followed ye,” I press. The nervousness I’d suppressed bubbles up now I have him somewhere safe. Safer, at least. “How were ye planning on getting out of there?”

Milo straightens defensively, discards the hoodie into his lap, and folds his arms across his chest.

“Thank ye, Milo, for figurin’ out what we obviously couldn’t,” he snarks. “You’re welcome, mister Mad Dog, sir.”

That god-awful Scottish accent pulls a loud and booming laugh from deep in my gut. This witch is a different breed entirely. There’s just something about him. He isn’t acting at all how I expected; he’s acting like… like a Dog.

“Alright.” I nod. “Thank ye, Milo Tobitt—powerful warlock—for uncovering not only exactly what the Luna del Lupo does, but also the scope of the threat against General Romulus.”

Stating that out loud has a sobering effect. Operation Magpie isn’t just about eliminating the threat toward the General, but about preventing harm coming to all Romulan Wolves.

Images and memories of my family—of Ben, Raina and the twins, Mum and Dad, even Riley—fill my mind’s eye. Does the General know?

I resist the urge to scoff at the incredulity of my own thoughts. Of course he does, it involves his brother. He remembers exactly what he did, and what the Luna del Lupo does. Bear’s hunch was right.

“Milo?” I allow my wolf forward so I can monitor his vitals. “We did ask ye, repeatedly, if ye knew about the trinket. Ye swore us up and down ye didn’t. So why’d that guy say that ye have it on ye?”

The crinkle at the corner of his eyes drops, but his heart rate remains steady. “I don’t know,” he exhales. “Truthfully. Time Guy is the first to tell me that.”

He drops his gaze to the hoodie in his lap and pulls at the drawstrings that looks suspiciously chewed.