Page 22 of Fat Enemy Mate

I hear her sigh over the line, a silent shrug. “She can’t say. These kinds of things don’t tell us what, only they and the witchthat designed them will know that. She did say that it’s a magical barrier rather than a physical one, so it's not designed to stop an attack by a shifter or knife, but rather an influence or other magic. Like a shield. Not much help, I know.”

“Right,” I say, slowly.

“Whatever the Cheslem’s witch made these for,” Nick says in the background, “she made them because she thought the wearers would come up against something they’d need to be shielded against. We need to make sure that’s not any of our wards, so Connor is out checking them with the patrols.”

"Anya wants us to keep her updated,” Luna says, “something about the style of them bothered her. She’s heading back to the coven now, but said she’d keep looking into it for us.”

“That's good, appreciate the update,” I say quietly, thinking it all through and knowing that I should mention Lara’s strange ability, but something stops me. Perhaps the thought that she wouldn’t want me to tell them.

“Wilf,” Nick says.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“Just say the word, and I’ll send a truck up to bring you and that girl in once the snow clears a bit, ok?” He says, and I hear the question loud and clear. “And get in touch with Connor before he bothers me again.”

I groan, ignoring the first part of his statement, “I’ll text him now.” I tell him and thank Luna again for the update before I hang up.

A protective talisman, then—that points to it being connected to the witch Lara said they were going to bring in to get around her powers. It makes sense as they were chasing her down, but part of me hoped it wasn’t connected. If they’ve goneto the trouble to get a witch to prepare a defensive shield, they’re clearly serious about getting her back and somehow using her. Though if her power isn’t working well against me, they might be disappointed. Either way doesn’t end well for Lara.

I fire off a text to Connor, mainly about the snow and reiterating some of Luna’s update. Hoping that will appease him because if he calls and starts asking questions, I’d find it difficult to lie to a man who has been nothing but loyal to me my whole life. I know I need to decide what to do with Lara. I know she’d rather I just let her go, but the reality is that the rogues aren’t going to just forget about her if they’ve gone to this much trouble. She won’t be safe without protection.

The exact kind of protection she doesn’t want.

I’m just putting the coffee pot on when I hear the bedroom door open and the sound of footsteps in the hall. I turn to see Lara walk in, wearing rolled-up sweats and a T-shirt tied at the side. She’s obviously had a shower, as her hair is still damp. She looks beautiful just as she is, and my damn wolf notices.

“Hey,” I say, grabbing a second cup.

“Hi,” she replies, and I wonder if she heard the call. I don’t want her to think I’m hiding anything from her, considering how well that went last time.

I make the coffee and hand her a cup, setting my own down on the kitchen island. “I spoke to Luna. Anya, the witch who helps my pack sometimes, has checked over the talismans, and they’re like a protective shield. They protect against influence rather than the physical.”

“So, against me, you think?” She asks quietly.

I sigh, “I was hoping it might point in another direction, but that does seem the most likely. You said they were bringing in a witch, after all. Perhaps you only just missed her, and she went ahead with the talismans, and then they started tracking you.”

“I was surprised I didn’t hear them on my trail sooner; they must have waited for the talismans to be ready. So that tracks.” She mutters, watching the fire.

“It does,” I reply.

“Have you told them about me? About my voice?” She asks.

“No,” I tell her, and she watches my face for a trace of a lie, but she won’t find it.

“Don’t you trust them?” She asks, and the question takes me by surprise.

“Of course I do, but this just feels like something that needs working through first,” I tell her. “I didn’t think you’d want me to tell them.”

“I thought shifters were only loyal to their alpha and pack, so I figured you’d tell them everything,” she replies.

I smirk and take a sip of my coffee. “Yeah, well, that’s kind of true, but they’re used to me doing things my own way.”

“A lone wolf, huh?” She says, eyeing me carefully.

“I guess so,” I say quietly, “I live on the ridge and don’t bother much with town. My father stole from half of them growing up and then cut and ran, leaving me behind. They’ve all been good to me, but I think growing up like that kept me on the edge of the pack. Nothing much has changed…”

I trail off, unsure why I just spilled all that, and she stares at me for a moment, seemingly processing it before speaking.

“That’s a lot to carry around with you,” she says, eventually.