Page 3 of Loched in Love

I tried to explain to her that it wouldn’t be right and told her in no certain terms I’d only beget bairns with my true mate, which is what led to her attacking me in the first place.

But a true mate…

A true mate is something every supernatural creature craves. After being alive as long as I have, I’d almost given up on one.

The one being meant for you above all others, and to find such a treasure is a blessing that should be protected and cherished at all costs. I glance up at the gray brick of the castle and out across the expansive moat that wraps around it like a lover, watching the fading light of the sun dance across its iridescent surface.

Aye, this will be as good a spot as any for my mate to find me, and perhaps a change in scenery won’t be so bad.

“Dinnae get yer knickers in a twist, Vlad. I’m sure my lass will be along any time now, and you’ll be free of me soon enough,” I say, stretching my serpentine form along the deep waterway beneath the vampire’s castle.

“Fine, but she’d better find you sooner rather than later, and if you think I’m inviting humans to try on your moat like some bloody Cinderella story, you’re sorely mistaken,” Vlad announces from the bridge.

“What human would take an invitation from you?” I say, unbothered by the blighter. Vlad is the most pessimistic creature I’ve met in my long years and is put out by almost everything.

“I don’t know why I continue to be pulled into your little magical games, but if all of you could stop needing me for a few months that would be grand,” the witch queen counters in response to our exchange.

She stands several feet from Vlad and Doyle, magic pooling together in her palms, no doubt to leave us to our respective lots. I notice how she calls it to her as if it’s as easy as child’s play, unlike anyone I’ve seen. I spent most of the day searching villages near Vivian’s lair before reaching out to my selkie cousins. But the magic of a seal shifter can’t battle the Lady of the Lake, and so they sent me here to the one witch that could help me.

Luckily, Odette was here soothing one of the werewolf Doyle’s episodes, and not in King Louis of France’s court, when the selkies sent me here.

The heaviness of the day’s deeds and assortment of magics touching me in the last twenty-four hours takes its toll, and the fatigue of it all spreads. “Always a pleasure, Odette. I’m off te nap. Wake me up in a few years will ye?” I nod to Connor and close my gaze. My mate will come soon, I’m sure of it, and a wee bit of shut eye sounds just the thing.

Chapter 1

ELENA PIERSON

“If I die, delete my kindle history,” I mutter, standing frozen in place, while my heart thunders in my ears. My gaze is cemented squarely on the deep dark woods several yards from where I sit under a large willow tree, trying to survive one of my worst fears. “There weren’t supposed to be bears in these woods.”

“What?” Natalie answers, her voice low and confused coming through my earbuds.

I had trespassing, possible jail time in a foreign country, and soreness from years of not taking my brother up on more of his rock climbing classes at the gym as a list of possibilities when I decided to adventure to Romania.

Locating and taking a sample of the only fresh water in existence that’s been untouched by humans for almost a millennia is priceless, but being eaten by bears is one thing I thought I’d crossed off.

“Just hurry and Google for me if there are any bears near the castle,” I whisper back to her, my gaze darting through the shadowy tree line for any sign of movement.

Whatever that was, it was freaking huge.

“We’re going to circle back to what you’ve been reading, but you know there aren’t any bears. You told me yourself when I asked last month, remember?” my best friend says.

“Something big just ran behind the castle,” I tell her, if only to reaffirm it for myself. My thighs burn as I stand up from the squat I’ve been in and realize that my butt, along with the phone I had in my back pocket, is damp from the wet ground.

I grimace as goosebumps pebble along my skin, and resist the urge to shiver when the cold seeps in through my clothes.

I glance back at my backpack on the bridge and wonder how quickly I can grab my supplies without alerting whatever animal is in the forest, but a sharp and piercing howl in the distance has every hair on my body standing on end.

“You did mention wolves,” Nat replies helpfully, obviously having heard them too.

Shit.

I did mention wolves, which is why I bought an air horn yesterday at the closest hunting store I could find once I landed in Romania just in case, but no way am I going to use it unless I absolutely have to.

I can just imagine the news headline: ‘Elena Pierson, Twenty-Six-Year-Old Nerdy Biologist is Detained After Trespassing on Private Property and Waking up Castle Owners Via Air Horn.’

I’d really rather not.

Another howl fills the quiet, overcrowding the soft hum of night insects and occasional hoot of an owl I’d been listening to for the last hour and I frown. That’s odd. The wolves now sound much further away.