Page 73 of Werewolves and Witches AU

I just broke into someone’s home to steal something—I’m officially a felon—and that’s so… exciting.

A tiny little bunny hop sneaks into my feet, and my wrists flap my hands about like they’re wings, but it’s the equivalent of blowing on a ghost pepper before you eat it to cool it down. Pointless. My thoughts are too loud, the feelings too fizzy, and both of them are mixing inside me about as well as that donut burger I ate at the State Witchcraft and Wonder Fayre.

It’s probably for the best, then, that Rowan isn’t wanting to talk. Because if I open my mouth right now, I’m not sure what might come out. I sneak another glance at the brooding alpha next to me. Probably, it’d be something related to that kiss we almost definitely shared.

Ugh. I suck my lip between my teeth because that moment…

The way his capable and clawed hand cradled the side of my head… more, please. And with the claws, because who knew that was a thing a person could be into. But it is. I’m person.

I chew on my bottom lip. Had his phone not rung when it did, I’d have absolutely kissed the stoic and intimidating Lieutenant Colonel Rowan Rangecroft. My knees give a little wobble mid-step, and I cover it by swiping at the grass and mud stains on my jeans.

The mountain of a man is handsome, kind, patient, and loyal—all the exact qualities I’d have written in a Love List to manifest him into existence. Rowan’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and for a minute back there, I could have sworn I saw that same inclination reflected back in his wolfish features. But it couldn’t be… could it?

He has a high-ranking job and comes from a prestigious family. He could have anyone he wanted, most probably. Besides, he’s a werewolf—an alpha one—and wolves have mates. Someone perfectly compatible for both the human and the wolf, decided by… Who does decide on werewolf pairings?

I shrug the thought. It’s irrelevant. It’s not just that Rowan’s a werewolf, it’s also that I’m not—neither wolf nor omega.

Likely, he’s waiting until one of his missions brings him across his omega mate so they can settle down, have lots of wolf pups together, and live on that big Scottish Estate he told me about. And as a human, I don’t have the required anatomy for that role. I can’t produce wolf pups, or any pups, or witchy babies, or babies of any kind.

Not that I would complain if Rowan were to try and impregnate me… for science. I mean, we should probably make sure that it’s definitely not possible before we rule it out, because who knows, what if…

The loud bleep of the truck’s alarm disabling flushes my mind from the gutter.

When I look up, Rowan’s already holding the rear passenger door open, and I climb in without hesitation. I assume he’ll follow me, like he did when we left the Nest together earlier, but instead he closes my door and climbs into the driver’s seat.

Avoiding making eye contact with me in the mirror, he says, “I thought ye might want to change.”

The blood that rushes to heat my cheeks also makes my head heavier, and I drop my gaze to take in all the dirt and snags in the T-shirt he kindly loaned me for this mission. It’s ruined. Even if I got it laundered, there’d still be those few tiny holes poked into the fabric from the branches. Was it expensive? Probably. It’d felt so luxurious when I’d put it on—not like any of the cheap stuff I own.

Rowan pokes my phone through the gap between the front seats of the truck, and I accept it without raising my head.

He starts the engine and the massive vehicle rumbles to life around us, its gentle vibrations passing through the leather of the seats. While he presses buttons to set up the navigation for the journey back to the city, I yank the stolen hairbrush out from where I wedged it down the waistband at the back of my jeans and buckle in.

Luckily, I hadn’t landed directly on it when I dove headfirst out of the window. I drag the pad of my thumb over the stiff bristles, and wince at the thought of the damage they could have done if I had. Still, I have the hairbrush we drove all the way out here for safely in my hand—the one Sarah invested so much energy into communicating about.

It’s not a fancy hairbrush in any way, just the regular kind that you can buy at any drugstore, but coiled around the base of the bristles are tens of strands of dark hair. Hairs that hold over five hundred years of ancestry. Ancestry that links this woman to a person who simply vanished one day.

When it happened, when Time Guy came for the residents of Roanoke Island, this lady’s ancestor must have been somewhere else, and were spared from being folded away in time because of it. But where was she?

Had she been travelling to a neighbouring township to trade wares or skills, like Sarah? Or was she visiting a secret lover?

My eyes flick up to find Rowan’s hazel ones in the truck’s mirror. His brow is set low, as if it struggles under the weight of his thoughts. When our gazes lock, I drop my head.

Once more, I pass my thumb over the bristles, but this time, the sensation comes with the memory of how his thumb had felt when it stroked over my cheek.

And exactly like before, Rowan’s phone rings out, disturbing even my private reminiscence of it.

He clears his throat to answer. “Guardian…”

It’s a silly thing for me to be thinking about anyway. Even if Rowan and I went somewhere once, that’s all it would ever be. Ranger belongs to the Dogs, and when he’s completed this mission—found a way to save his Bloodline—he’ll move on and leave.

Guardian’s rich Amharic accent fills the truck’s cabin. “That’s the first time you’ve ever declined my call.”

I suck my lower lip over my teeth, guilt driving the force I bite down with. Ranger only cancelled that call because of me. Because we… back there… behind the Target… and I… Yeah, my fault.

Rowan shuffles in his seat, uncharacteristically awkward, before he answers matter-of-factly. “Magpie took his first flight from the Nest. I was…”

“Torn. Distracted. I understand, Ranger.”