Feral Heart: A Witch Hospital Romance (The Witches of White Willow Book 2)

by Angela Addams

  Mahdyia leaned against the wall, her arms flung out and her head back. “And be known for all eternity as the cold hearted bitch who obliterated the poor puppy’s heart?”

  “Or you could just let it happen,” Duke said.

  She groaned, rolling her eyes at Duke and pushing herself from the wall. “I’m too young to settle down! No offence to you two but I have seeds to sow.”

  “Gross,” Duke said. “I’m out. This conversation is not for me. I’ll see you two later.” He kissed Hazel again before moving down the hall.

  “I don’t think you have seeds to sow,” Hazel laughed. She passed Mahdyia the chart. “Don’t you think you should just be honest with him? He’s a nice guy…maybe too nice for you.”

  “Hey!”

  “Come on Mahdyia, he’s no bad boy,” Hazel said. “But you should tell him the truth and end things with him if you’re not feeling it because the longer it goes on the worse it will be.” She nodded over her shoulder. “But seriously, you’re going to have to do something because there he is…again.”

  It was a little sad, how he kept trailing her like that. Trying to look like he was doing something else, like he had a reason to be in this hall at this time.

  Mahdyia sighed in an exaggerated way and handed Hazel back her chart. “That’s it, I’m going to do it. Go break the big guy’s heart.”

  “Good luck.” Hazel cringed. “Love you.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mahdyia waved her middle finger over her shoulder. “Hey, Croft, buddy, you got a minute? We need to talk.”

  Croft looked up from the cart where he was trying to look busy. His eyes lit up when he saw Mahdyia coming his way. “Oh hey, Mady. Didn’t know you were up here.”

  Hazel rolled her eyes and shook her head, turning her attention to her next patient. One thing Hazel knew for sure—Mahdyia never did know what she needed, not even if she was desperate for it.

  Afterword

  Thank you for taking time to read Feral Heart. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated. Thank you again, Angie

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  Acknowledgments

  I pushed myself to get this book ready so that I could release it shortly after The Witches of White Willow and, with a surgery in there, too, I really surprised myself with hitting my self-imposed deadlines. (Don’t worry—I gave myself lots of treats along the way.) I couldn’t have done it without the encouragement and support of my friends and family though.

  The Witches of White Willow had such an enthusiastic reception that I was excited to keep on going with the next book I had planned. So thank you to my readers, the ones who have been on this journey from the very beginning and the ones who have joined me more recently. I appreciate your support and encouragement.

  Thank you to my good friend D.B. Reynolds, who has talked me off the writer’s ledge more times than I can count and who is truly an inspiration to me in so many ways. I look forward to spending time with you, in person, soon.

  Thank you to my amazing friends and support system: Michelle von Enckevort, Dianne Waye, Tammy Crosby, Anna Sotiropoulos, Kate Riddell, Bev Woodfine and Linda Farnes. You always give me your honest opinions and unfailingly support my many endeavors. I love you all like family and couldn’t do this without you.

  And thank you, Holly Atkinson, for everything. Seriously. Your enthusiasm for my books has kept me going on many dark days. I couldn’t survive without your expertise. Your friendship is one I cherish greatly. I look forward to continuing on this crazy ride with you.

  Lastly, thank you to my husband who always takes care of me. He supports my dreams and talks me up when I’m feeling down. He’s always here giving me what I need and that’s the most important thing for any writer. To my kids, thanks, as always, for your fantastic ideas and willingness to brainstorm. You are great kids, even if you can’t cook meals for me yet. And finally, thank you to my parents who remind me often that they have tremendous faith in me.

  A Conversation with Angela Addams

  Other authors have said that writing a sequel is hard to do because you’re dealing with high reader expectation and also trying to replicate, without duplicating, the tone and feel of the debut. What have your experiences been like in writing this sequel?

  I knew before I finished writing book one that book two was going to feature Bas Frank. He’s a character who’s begging for a story and has a crap-ton of baggage that he needs to sort out. As for reader expectation, while I did feel some pressure (my editor really, really liked book one) I just set out to write the story that I wanted to write: a story about Bas Frank that has been rolling around in my head almost from the beginning of my journey with this series. My goal is to write characters that readers can identify with even though the characters exist in a world of my creation. And I wanted to show that Bas might be a raging jerk on the outside sometimes but he has a big heart on the inside… He’s complicated, but aren’t we all?

  I noticed that you carried some of the themes from book one to this book such as discrimination. What made you want to tackle the prejudice that exists toward the human witches?

  This seemed like a no-brainer to me for Bas because he has such a hatred toward the human witches. To some extent, given his history, it’s justifiable that he has mistrust and anger but his bigotry needs a check and who better than to check him but a human witch! Now, I will admit that originally I had planned to bring a different character in to teach Bas this lesson but I was reminded (thanks, Holly) that it would be much more significant to have his love interest be the bringer of the truth for him.

  I decided to make Mina half-human, half-pure witch because I wanted her to feel the pull of being torn between two worlds which would allow her to see, to some degree, where Bas’s anger was coming from and also gave her a reason to be reluctant to tell him who she really was. She so badly wanted to fit in but really never learned how to do that. Fulfilling a dream for her father motivated her to keep her heritage quiet but deep down she knew that she had nothing to be ashamed of.

  I always love that your characters have depth and deal with issues that regular people deal with (even though they’re witches living in a pretty cool witch world). How do you come up with their character traits and problems? (You’re totally writing about your friends, right?)

  Lol, no! I mean, I’m not going to say that I’m not the biggest eavesdropper of all conversations wherever I go, nor will I say that that I don’t catalogue things that I hear for future use, but I will say that I’m always on the look out for interesting people, situations and problems. I pay attention to what’s going on around me and listen to people when they are complaining about relationship or life troubles. So, I pick and choose what will make the best mix of character traits and the best problems that those characters may have when interacting with a potential love interest. Just because I’m writing about witches, doesn’t mean the real stuff can’t get tackled. Bas isn’t a perfect man and Mina has some confidence issues but together, they just might balance each other out and make it work.

  You have a lot of vivid detail in your worlds from the creatures you create to the hospital itself. Where do you get these ideas?

  Everywhere! I am always pushing my imagination to come up with things that I would find interesting if I was reading my books for the first time. I love writing about magic and witches and I want to give my readers a vivid experience as they’re going through my stories. While my first drafts are usually very lean, I add a lot of description with each editing pass so that I do my best to paint a picture for readers and hopefully create a world that they would want to revisit.

  What’s next for you?

  I’m going to write the third book in The Witches of White Willow series which will feature Mahdyia and delve a li
ttle bit more into her family life with Hazel. That’s the plan anyway…lol…sometimes the story takes on a plan of its own as I’m working. So the series is rolling out and will continue to roll out.

  My next release will be the long awaited sequel to The Dark War. If you haven’t read The Dark War, then you’re missing out on another witch focused world I’ve created (different from the world of White Willow). It’s grittier and sexy and promises an intense ride. The sequel is called Fortune’s Fool and features (along with witches) shifters, Dhampirs, and vampires. It takes place ten years after The Dark War is set so you don’t have to read the first book to know what’s going on. (Although I’d love it if you did read The Dark War so you could meet Kali and Wyatt, two very hot, explosively hot, witches.)

  That’s it for me! Catch ya on the witch side!

  Even destiny can't get in the way of what is meant to be.

  Hazel Knight is a Promised One—a witch born with unique magic abilities. As a result, her future is laid out for her. She is to join the Circle and spend the rest of her life meditating, chanting and devoting her healing magic to bolster her fellow witches. It’s a commitment Hazel is proud to make, and she’s just one internship away from fulfilling her destiny.

  But just because Hazel’s committed to her destiny doesn’t mean she can't have some fun before she takes the final step. For the past year, she’s enjoyed many clandestine nights with a man who has given her a lifetime of memories to take with her. A mysterious lover whose name she’s never asked, whose face she’s never fully seen.

  Yet when her internship begins, she has no trouble recognizing Healer Duke Hart, the exquisitely sexy witch whom her mother has handpicked to serve as her mentor.

  Hazel only meant to have a little fun before she devoted herself to a life of servitude, but Duke is bound and determined to prove that nothing, not even destiny, is written in stone.

  Chapter One

  “So you’re slumming it tonight? For real, Haz? You’re going to ditch me?”

  Hazel snorted lightly as she held up yet another wispy gown. “It’s not slumming, Mahdyia, and yes, I’m definitely going. Wouldn’t miss it. You should come.” But she knew before her cousin barked her disdain that that would never happen.

  “Hang out with the humans?” She made a gagging noise. “Not on your life.” Her voice echoed, the phone on speaker suddenly amplifying in an obnoxious way. “It’s our last night of freedom! How can you do this to me?”

  Last night of freedom. The night of the Spring Moon Festival she’d attended every year since she’d been old enough to get into trouble.

  “What would your mother say?”

  Mahdyia would never say a word to Hazel’s prudish mother and they both knew it. All the same, the threat was enough to make Hazel gasp.

  “Mother won’t find out. She never finds out. She has no interest in human rituals. Besides, I’ve been going for years and I’m not missing this one. It’s fun, Mady. Seriously. A night of drinking, dancing—”

  “And fucking. Yeah I get it.”

  “Making love, under the stars,” Hazel corrected. “You’re acting like I’m some angsty teenager. I’m a grown woman, about to embark on the next phase of my predetermined life. I’m allowed to have a little fun.” She sighed. “I know you had big plans for our last night of freedom but I have to go.”

  “To see him.”

  Hazel’s heart squeezed. Him. He’d texted her to tell her he’d be there. In town for work, he’d said. “It’ll be the last time. Forever. And then you’ll have me by your side, training, working, for the next year of our witchly lives.”

  A silence hung between them. One year was all they had left together.

  “It’s dangerous to play with humans. They could mess with your destiny.” Mahdyia’s tone was mocking, but not in a biting way.

  Hazel knew Mady felt the same about Hazel’s destiny, forged in stone on the night she’d been born, as Hazel herself did at that moment. Shit luck that she had been born into the Knight clan and to one of the most powerful white witches of all time.

  “But it’s such fun,” Hazel tried to keep her voice light. Every moment she got to spend with him was delicious torture because she knew it was fleeting. “I have to say goodbye to him. I can’t leave him wondering forever.”

  “Oh Haz.” Madhya scoffed. “Such a romantic. Fine, go, spend time with your human. See if I care. I’m going to have the time of my life tonight anyway. Don’t be late tomorrow. We have to make a good impression.” She gave a little harsh laugh. “Or at least, I do.”

  “Reputation is everything, darling,” Hazel chirped, mimicking her mother’s tone.

  “Easy for you to say.” Mahdyia made a kissing noise that sounded more like a squawk. “Love ya. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “Love ya too. And I plan on doing all the things you wouldn’t do.” She waved her finger and disconnected the call.

  Hazel went back into her closet and pulled down the dress she’d been avoiding. It was stunning with its sheen of gold and slips of gauzy material. It dipped low on her chest, almost showing her nipples, and cinched at the waist, leaving her back exposed as the rest of it cascaded to her toes. And if it caught the right light, like when the ritual fires flickered against the dark night sky, yeah, it was damn near see through.

  Was she bold enough to pull it off?

  It was hardly practical, the chill she’d feel when she danced away from the flames would be unpleasant, especially if the wind was whipping like usual. She’d get it tangled on the low hanging branches and brush as she ran through the woods, chased as a part of their fun and games. He liked hunting her. She liked being hunted. Her dress would snag for sure. But what did it really matter? Before the night was through, he’d have her in his arms and they’d both be naked on the grass, her dress forgotten somewhere along the way. And she wouldn’t need it after tonight.

  She had a year to prepare her body, mind, and skill for her inevitable journey to her destiny. There would be no time, no room, for romantic fantasy, especially not under her mother’s watchful eyes.

  With a sigh, she held the dress up to her frame once again and examined herself in the mirror, a small smile creeping on her lips. Yes, for him, it was worth the snags and chills. One last time.

  The city was off in the distance, blazing with the light of typical modernization. Much of its inhabitants still clung hard to the old ways, with over eight hundred practicing witches among them. Human witches. The city was nestled in woods so thick you wouldn’t even know it was there if it weren’t for the massive highway connecting it to the rest of the world and the big billboards advertising its existence. A tourist attraction that boasted all sorts of enticing and accessible forms of magic: love spells, fortune telling, crystal healing and perhaps a few curses here and there. They catered to the curious of their kind—humans who wanted to learn about witchcraft and all things Salem. Including the notorious witch trials that had almost ended Hazel’s kind. The humans, even the non-witch ones, paid tribute and honored the fallen. The human witches were harmless dabblers in natural magics, making fistfuls of cash on the tragedy. She didn’t fault them for that. Everyone and everything had a price.

  Hazel felt a chill from her vantage point on the grassy hill, looking down at the twinkling lights of the city. It was the only appealing thing about Salem—the city and its believers, the pulse she got from their worship made her almost giddy. Her mother didn’t value it—the humans were hardly worth her notice, even though they did provide a boost to the Healer’s magic. Her mother felt their power was minor and insignificant, but she’d never ventured outside of the walls of White Willow Hospital, other than to come home and instruct Hazel in all the ways to be a proper white witch. She was a strict woman with high standards, expecting much, maybe too much, from her only daughter.

  Hazel turned, scanning the horizon for White Willow itself. There, off in the distance, it stood, muted lights hazy in the darkness. Only w
itches of the non-human variety could locate it. A haven for those in need of magical healing, and soon to be her place of residence for the next year. There she’d train before ascending to her role as a Promised One, designate for her mother who was far too important, far too powerful, to ever give up her role as the Great Mother of all Healers.

  Music wafted toward Hazel, floating on the breeze, pulling her from her dark thoughts. Away from the city and from White Willow was a small ceremonial valley where a cluster of cottages stood. She called it The Village—it was where the human witches assembled to celebrate their faith. Only the elders of their kind actually lived there but it was mecca to the city witches and to Hazel as well. The bonfires were already burning in the center of the village. She could see the wisps of flame calling to her.

  Her dress billowed behind her, the wind tickling her thighs. He was waiting for her. Somewhere down there where the fires were warm and the music was loud, where the wine flowed and the food was laid out. He was there, she knew it by the flutter of her heart. She lowered her mask, covering most of her face, as was the custom for the festival. With a jolt of excitement, she picked up her dress, freed her legs, and ran down the dirt path, her feet barely touching ground.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His breath on the back of her neck made her shiver in a delicious way.

  She swayed backward, feeling the warmth of his body just behind her. “You’ve never actually seen me,” she teased.

  He chuckled softly as he lowered his lips to her neck, sending another sweep of pleasure over her. Goosebumps rose all over her body. Somehow, even though he was barely touching her, he noticed. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”