Page 18 of His Hunted Witch

“You’re the son of a shifter and a witch.”

She only knew one other person like him. Her little niece was one year old, the daughter of her sister and a werewolf. No wonder they built such strong wards. His existence was a carefully guarded secret.

Then the full import of his words hit her. “Onewitch made this?”

He chuckled, and she felt his diaphragm spasm. “I helped, and my brother.”

“Youhave magic?” She fought the urge to dive off the horse away from him.

This, she had never heard of before. Women were witches; magic was a form of defense for them. She’d never heard of a man wielding power.

“Which talent?” she asked, gobsmacked.

“None in particular. At least none that we know of. My ma can harness it when we are connected, but to me, it just feels like my wolf is particularly strong.” It sounded like he was describing a Circle where witches teamed up to share power.

She twisted to see the barrier. “She did this with your magic. I can’t believe it.”

“It’s what any dire wolf can do,” Aiden said. “When we shift, we disappear. She just held it in place.”

“How?”

“You’d have to ask her.”

“No, how did a witch end up in the backwoods with a wolf pack?”

“It’s a long story.”

“It’s not a long story. It’s an extremely short story. You’re the son of a witch and a shifter.”

“Well, that part presumably wasn’t very long.”

She contemplated the man who still had a hand around her middle. He was incredible. He was powerful, gorgeous, loaded, and… And her family had just declared war on his. Her kidnapping guaranteed that. They weren’t just historic enemies; this was personal. She was insane for even looking at him twice.

Well, she’d be out of reach of temptation soon enough.

He clicked the horse faster now that they were clear of the barrier. Her spell faded, and she tried to look behind her, but she could see nothing.

“How do you know where to get in?”

“Forgive me if I don’t hand you the keys to our pack lands.”

It was personal, all right.

A timeless walk later when her thighs burned and she wondered if they’d had taken a wrong turn, he pulled the horse to a stop.

“Quiet,” he whispered.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Shh.”

“You just—” She bit her lip when something rustled in the woods.

Gently, he urged the horse forward, and even it seemed to realize it had to be quiet.

In another fifty feet, she heard a familiar voice.

“We can do a summoning spell. We can find her anywhere.” It was one of her aunts.

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