Page 66 of His Hunted Witch

“You’re not alone here,” he persisted. “If not me then Paul or Ellis or my mom. We have allies.”

She paused. Kathleen was a witch with full control of her magic. Goldie couldn’t put him in harm’s way, but she also couldn’t do this alone.

“Have you talked to your mom recently?” she asked.

He looked surprised. “Between chasing teenagers and chasing you? No, I haven’t checked in.”

“Could I go see her? It’s just that she promised new nail polish.” She held up her ragged hand.

“Of course! You are not a prisoner.”

He winced; she laughed.

“You are literally a prisoner,” he corrected, “but I am doing everything I can to set you free.”

This time, she winced. She didn’t want to be free of him. She wanted to watch the sun come up in this crazy room every day for the rest of their lives. She wanted to add her trophies and dolls to the shelves.

There had to be a way to make this right without endangering him.

“I’ll just head out.”

He got up and escorted her down the winding stairs and out to the front porch. He still had to help her through the wards. When it looked like he was going to keep following her, she crossed her arms, faking insouciance. “You not letting me out of your sight is not doing a whole lot to convince me I’m free.”

His face went blank.

This is for your own good,she thought hard, trying to beam it into his brain because she couldn’t say it.

His gaze slid into watchful acceptance that didn’t seem human. Was she really hearing his wolf? “It’s the big house by the barn. You can’t miss it.”

She nodded once and left him. She could feel his eyes on her as she made her way down the path. Even when she was out of sight, she could feel the wolf’s attention.

Relax, I’m fine.

The moment the animal attention left her, she heard a twig snap. She tried to keep her heart rate calm even as she scanned the trees. The sun was up, but the weak winter light didn’t penetrate the depths of the woods. Still, she could swear she was not alone.

“Hello?”

Nothing and no one moved, which should have been her first clue. No forest was this quiet. It was always teeming with little mice, bugs, and birds.

A forest was never this quiet unless there was something a lot bigger coming through, forcing all the little guys to hide. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was being hunted. She didn’t like it.

“Come on out,” she said, tapping her foot in time with her heart. She forced herself to keep still.

An older man she didn’t recognize stepped onto the path. He wore overalls and a beard down to his navel. Everything in her had been expecting Buck.

“Morning,” she said.

“How do?” He tipped a non-existent hat.

“I’m Goldie.” This was probably another old wolf going after a witch. “And you are?”

“Nathan Scott at your service, ma’am.”

Goldie froze. She’d heard that name. Buck’s father. She couldn’t hold him responsible for his son’s actions, but this dude was a big part of why Buck was the way he was. She could blame him for that.

He had to be in his fifties or sixties, the age of most of her aunts. He looked like the rest of the Scotts, his brown hair tousled and thinning in places.

“I wondered when you’d get out from under him,” he said, looking very pleased.

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