by Lyra Winters
A small moan escaped her lips, and my body tensed as I fought back the desire to rip off her tattered dress, mark her, and soul-bond with her right then and there.
I tore my hand away and took a couple of steps back for safety.
“Why did you move?” Her hand wandered to the cheek I had touched seconds before.
“Because you’re not my mate.”
Olivia was my mate. The witch was a damn imposter.
She flinched, her hand drifting to her chest. “Why did that hurt so bad to hear?” Tears trickled out of her round eyes and down her rosy cheeks.
My head flinched back as if she slapped me. My mate had died. Was it even possible for me to have a second chance mate? There weren’t any cases where a wolf had a second chance mate after their mate had died. Could I trust her, a witch, who’d been banished from her own coven?
A knot formed in my stomach. “Did you cast a spell on me? A fucking love spell or some shit?”
Her eyes seemed to glow as they flickered between mine, and she shook her head, sincerity pulsed through the new bond. “I don’t even know you, Xavier.”
My name on her tongue sent my primal side into overdrive, and the ache to wrap her up in my arms clawed at me. My wolf wanted to claim his mate, but my mind was a damn mess. “What’s your name?”
She bit her bottom lip, not bothering to wipe the descending tears. “Harlow.”
“And you’re a witch?”
She nodded. “Yes, but I would never tamper with yours—or anyone’s—feelings. Especially the emotion of love.”
I gave her a curt nod.
What the fuck was going on? What did I do now? If she was genuine—and every bone in my body told me she was—then that meant she was my mate. The other half of my fucking soul.
But how the hell could I accept her when Olivia’s death was so fresh in my memory?
THREE
Harlow
A bead of sweat rose on his temple, and his frown deepened. I could see the wheels turning in his chocolate brown eyes that made my knees weak.
I was fifteen when the coven banished me, so I knew about boys, crushes, and sex—but nothing could’ve prepared me for Xavier.
When he cupped my cheek, something moved through me like a wave of forbidden desire.
I had to be succumbing to insanity. I was a witch, and according to what I learned from the coven, witches didn’t have mates. It didn’t make any sense, but I couldn’t ignore the pulling force between us.
I wanted him, and hearing him say he wasn’t my mate and accuse me of casting some stupid love spell on him crushed me in ways I didn’t know was possible.
“Xavier?” His name slid off my tongue like honey.
He blinked, his eyes snapping to mine. “I don’t know what this means, Harlow.”
The way he said my name made my heart thump against my rib cage like violent waves crashing against rocks. He made my stomach knot up, and my body did things it’d never done before—but he was a werewolf, and werewolves were capable of disgusting, violent acts.
I had to stay level-headed around him, but it was hard to do when all he did was make me light-headed.
I swallowed hard. “I don’t know either.”
I couldn’t keep my eyes off him long enough to maintain an actual conversation, whether it was from the attraction or fear, I didn’t know.
Xavier paced across the room in even gaits, his bare feet pounding on the dark wooden floor. The man towered over me. He was at least a foot taller than I was.
Long, thick fingers swept through his short chestnut brown hair that shifted back into place once his hand had gone past. His tanned skin produced a glowing effect, making his stubble-covered chin seem darker. High cheekbones accentuated his face, and full pink lips were pressed firmly together in a flustered expression.
His emotions smashed into me in surges, more substantial than I’d felt before. I wasn’t sure if it was the matebond amplifying his emotions or because of how strong his feelings were.
Confusion, frustration, heartbreak, fondness, hope, and desire seeped into me.
I took a step forward, my body acting on its own. I needed to touch him to manipulate his emotions. I could calm him down if I could just make skin-to-skin contact. I wanted to comfort him in any way I could, which was stupid.
He was dangerous.
But I didn’t care.
He halted mid-step as his eyes locked on mine, and I froze with my hand reaching toward him.
“I have to go.” He stumbled backward over his feet, flung open the door, shifted into an enormous freaking wolf, and bolted.
My heart cried out for him, and every nerve in my body screamed for me to follow him—the man who was the embodiment of everything I hated.
I glanced down at my ripped-to-shreds sweatpants and sighed.
I figured two things.
First, he would come back if he wanted to explore this matebond—and I needed to do more research on the matter.
Second, my favorite sweatpants were ruined.
It seemed like a trip to the village was unavoidable.
FOUR
Xavier
What the fuck was happening? And why did this damn matebond feel stronger than my first? Olivia was everything to me, but this witch, Harlow, was a fucking puzzle piece made to fit with me perfectly.
I didn't even know her, but fuck, I wanted to. My soul had been dormant for so long it had forgotten what it was like to feel. When Harlow walked into that pitiful cottage, it came alive.
I dashed through the woods, my paws gripping the soil and propelling me further into the brush. I leaped over narrow winding creeks and slippery rocks as everything blurred into a dizzying blend of earthy colors.
My stomach rumbled, craving something big. I needed food. I couldn't even remember the last time I ate. I'd almost had those bears, but Harlow's fucking scent distracted me.
I skidded to a halt, sniffing out the scent of a rabbit. Rabbits were more of a snack than anything, but beggars couldn't be choosers. And I was a beggar in this labyrinth of a forest.
Lowering my belly to the ground, I crawled toward the smell and found two full-grown rabbits hopping leisurely in a small clearing of dirt and roots from the nearby trees.
I inched forward until they noticed me before I sprang up and tore into them, devouring them like the animal I was. The rabbits were fatter than I expected and had plenty of meat to fill me up.
And yet, I still wasn't satisfied. A certain raven-haired witch clouded my mind.
I shook my over-sized head and threw it back, howling like I was fucking wounded.
Olivia never affected me this way. So, why was Harlow? Was it because she was a witch?
When I told her she wasn't my mate, and those tears fell from her beautiful violet eyes, my heart tore in two. I wanted to make her smile, make her moan like she did when I cupped her cheek with my hand. If she was sensitive to a light touch, what would she do if I took my time with her?
My howling ceased. Why was I even thinking that? I hadn't wanted another woman since Olivia died. Harlow had to be my second chance mate, and now I had to find out what to do about it.
Could I really put my revenge behind me and pursue Harlow? I mean fuck, I'd been craving vengeance for years. The need for it has lessened since I'd found Harlow, and I knew her for less than a few hours. I hadn't even accepted the bond yet—not consciously at least.
It was my fucking obligation to avenge Olivia, but Harlow made me want to drop it and focus on her. Did that make me a terrible mate, or what?
With my thoughts in shambles, I trotted back the way I came, toward her and her shitty hut that felt like a piece of me already.
FIVE
Harlow
The village was on the outskirts of the forest, about a two-hour walk from my cottage. I enjoyed submerging myself in nature and recharging my magical energy, so the walk helped more than hindered. I could’ve used a teleportation spell, but that would�
��ve wasted my magic when trying to replenish it.
I chuckled to myself. I used teleportation spells to the village often, and it was considered personal gain. The elder witches of Hollows Coven would’ve had something to say about that. They used their magic for personal gain but would hex the younger ones for doing it.
Hypocritical, twisted, maniacal witches.
I hadn’t met another coven besides Hollows and didn’t plan to either. My opinion was set in stone. Witches, werewolves, vampires, and humans were innately evil, and I wanted no part in it. I was more than happy to be alone.
Even if that werewolf’s presence brought me comfort. I recognized how twisted that was.
I stepped out of the forest and into the village. The old road was barely distinguishable through the colorful flora that had colonized it. The town was sleepy and small—which was why I didn’t mind coming here. Being an empath meant crowds were exhausting. Others’ emotions coiled into me and made me feel things I didn’t need nor want to feel.
Buildings lined up the sidewalk, making a paved path between them for the minimal traffic that traveled through. I walked down the crumbling sidewalk, passing the grocer with his window full of apples and bananas, the butcher with his bloody lumps of meat on display, and the small bank before stopping in front of a shop with various items in the window.
I ignored the curious looks from a couple of passerby’s and pulled the glass door open. As I strolled inside, a bell dinged above my head.
“Welcome back, Harlow!” Deb, a pretty blonde, greeted me with her thick hair in braided pigtails. She was sweet, and her aura was pure. She was one of the only people I’d met that I didn’t mind talking to.
Although speaking with Xavier didn’t exhaust me either, but I shouldn’t dwell on that. He tore my favorite pants, after all. And against my better judgment, he hurt my feelings. It sounded like he’d been through a lot, but it shouldn’t mess with my head like it was. I didn’t even know him.
“Hi, Deb.” I glanced around the shop. “Do you have any more of those big, comfy sweats?”
“Sure do. We just got a shipment of all kinds of new colors—and some cute matching tanks!” She skipped around the counter and led me to the back table.
I didn’t take time to browse and snatched up a black and purple set along with an extra pair of large black sweats and laid them over my arm. I shook my head as I walked back to the counter with her.
Why was I buying Xaiver anything? I wasn’t even sure if he’d be back to see me.
A small pang blasted through my heart at the thought, and I winced. Why did that hurt me so much? I’d never been one to care about other people or being lonely before—not since my parents and grandmother were killed.
Without giving me a chance to change my mind, she rang up the clothes and shot me a toothy grin. “I’ll pay for these in exchange for a fortune.”
I shrugged, but my lips quirked upward. “That works.”
One thing I liked about the people around here was that they valued me. I’d set up different tables on the edge of the forest to make money a few times. I’d sold herbs and healing potions, given fortunes, read auras, and given love advice. I offered magical services in exchange for money because I still wanted things from modern society, like clothes and food, for example.
She held out her hands with a big grin, wiggling her fingers until I grabbed them. I closed my eyes and called on my magic. A flutter in my chest spread down my extremities as a warm light enveloped me before burning so bright it burned out, leaving me cold.
I dropped her hands with a small gasp.
Deb was a witch, and she didn’t know. A coven I hadn’t heard of was searching for her. Their magic felt warm, unlike Hollows Coven—but it didn’t matter. They felt powerful. Doing her fortune sent a beacon to them somehow, and now they knew where she was, because of me.
Her mouth pulled down in a frown. “What’s wrong? What did you see?”
I cleared my throat. “I didn’t see. I felt. Deb, did you know you were a witch?”
Her mouth dropped before she began laughing. “A witch? Come on, Harlow. I’m not a witch.”
My eyes flickered to her neck. A yellow crystal pendant hung from a gold necklace. I could sense a faint trace of energy that I hadn’t noticed before. “Where did you get that pendant?”
She reached up and gripped it. “My parents gave me up for adoption. This was the only thing they left me with.”
“It sounds like they were running from something. You have a coven searching for you, and me doing that fortune sent your location to them.”
She shook her head. “But—that’s impossible.”
I reached out and grabbed her hand. Dormant magic was residing within her. I’d never thought to check before, but it was definitely there. “Your magic is bound.”
“What do I do?” Her wide eyes met mine in fear.
I took a deep breath, letting my intuition guide my words. “You don’t have to be afraid. Your coven feels… warm. I don’t sense any mal-intent from them. You can stay and let them seek you out—that option is what the spirits tell me is best. Or you could run. They won’t find you again unless your magic awakens.”
She nodded, absentmindedly handing me my bag. “I trust you, Harlow. You’ve been nothing but kind and honest. I will stay here and let them seek me out. Any idea when they will come?”
I shook my head as I grabbed the bag. “No. I’m sorry. Just that it will be soon.” My eyes drifted toward her pendant. “Can I see that?”
She nodded, unclasping it and giving it to me.
Energy pulsed from it to me, warm and comforting. I didn’t like other witches, I hated them, but Deb hadn’t known she was a witch. I was blind to it for the couple years I knew her because of the protection spell around her neck.
I’d hoped she wouldn’t change when she unlocked the power that dwelled inside her. Power could turn the sweetest people into monsters. A shiver wracked through me.
“Put this on, and don’t take it off.” I handed it back, and she clasped it back on her neck. “It’s been blessed with a protection spell.”
She toyed with the crystal and smiled. “So, I guess my parents must’ve cared after all.”
I nodded. “Whoever did that spell cared a lot about you, Deb. I hope when we meet again, you will be as bright and happy as you are now.”
She waved me on, her mind preoccupied with the fortune I’d given her. I wasn’t too fond of another coven poking their noses in the village I frequented, but it couldn’t be helped.
As I left the shop, my mind drifted toward a certain werewolf. My heart and intuition told me he was good, but I couldn’t let myself fall for him.
He was a werewolf, and I was a witch. What kind of fated match was that?
SIX
Xavier
I’d found my way back to her place by her alluring scent, but she wasn’t there. I didn’t know whether to stay and wait or get the hell out of dodge. I wasn’t even sure pursuing her was the right thing to do.
But she was my mate, my second chance mate. Soulmates were destined. The Fates had everything planned out from the moment we came into existence. Everything happened for a reason, to mold someone a specific way.
The Fates gave my friend, Sophia, a second chance mate two years after her first mate rejected her, and her second chance was it for her. She was nauseatingly in love with her mate, but would a second chance work the same for me? My first mate was killed in front of me, and I had already accepted her. Even if she had a fear of completing our bond, I held out hope that we would’ve been soul-bound.
How could I move on from Olivia? And why the fuck did I want Harlow so bad?
Whatever happened, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the pull toward Harlow. I had to figure her out. I fucking wanted to, and if that made me a shit person, so be it.
I stretched out on her twin mattress that my feet hung over the end and decided to wait for her to return home. I need
ed answers, and she was the only one capable of giving them to me.
A chuckle reverberated through the room as I covered my naked body with a throw blanket. She’d been fucking adorable the way her face turned red and eyes widened like I’d stolen her innocence from just having my dick out.
Nakedness came as natural to werewolves as breathing. Our pack was always shifting into wolf forms growing up, and clothes shredded when we’d shift. It was customary to see others naked. The only time it was considered sexual was when we’d be entertaining our primal desires.
It was safe to say I’d never had anyone react to my naked body the way the little witch had. I doubted she’d been with anyone before. She was alone in the forest, and after her reaction to me... My tongue darted out to wet my lips. So fucking pure. I couldn’t wait to corrupt her, and I’d take great fucking pleasure in doing so.
Groaning, I leaned my head back on the worn-down pillow. I was a douche. I was just thinking of Olivia and still needed to avenge her death—but here I was salivating at the thought of Harlow. But Harlow was my mate too, so was it wrong to want her?
Fuck. I didn’t know.
A purple glow emanated from above me, and I rubbed my eyes, blinking a few times to make sure I hadn’t gone crazy. It was sappy as hell but honest-to-Fates the prettiest glow of light I’d ever witnessed.
Different hues of purple came together like stardust creating a star. As the smaller glows united into one violet glow, Harlow appeared, hovering in front of me with her hair floating like she was underwater. Her eyes fluttered open and sent a bolt of lightning straight to my heart.
She gasped as the glow disappeared. She fell from the air and landed on top of me with an umph.
Her small hands pressed off my chest as she straightened up, legs parted, straddling me. A rush of blood went straight to my dick—but it couldn’t be helped. How could I not get an erection with this ethereal goddess pinning me down when only a blanket and her panties separated us?
“What’re you doing here?” She reached up and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, struggling to maintain eye contact. Her gaze would flicker down to my chest every other second.