Page 104 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

Or perhaps she was braver than he deserved.

His fingers traced idle patterns on her shoulder as exhaustion finally began to tug at him. Eventually they’d find the knife. She’d get back everything that had been stolen from her.

And then she could decide if a dying wolf was really worth chaining herself to.

But tonight—tonight she was his. Safe in his arms. Exactly where she belonged.

His eyes drifted closed, and for the first time in decades, Axel fell asleep without the wolf clawing at his mind.

Just peace.

Just her.

26

Sunday afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the porch in gold and shadow. I’d claimed Axel’s Adirondack chair, my stack of physics exams balanced precariously on the wide armrest, red pen tucked behind my ear. The autumn air carried the scent of woodsmoke and fallen leaves, cool enough to need my cardigan but warm enough to enjoy being outside.

Perfect grading weather.

Not that I was getting much grading done. There was too much happening inside my head. Axel’s shocking revelation last night. Our argument. The way we’d cuddled afterward. What we’d done this morning.

Waking up with his head between my thighs, his tongue and fingers doing absolutely sinful things while soft morning light streamed through the bedroom windows. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d coaxed three orgasms from me before we’d even gotten out of bed, lazy and thorough, like he had all the time in the world to worship my body.

I forced my attention back to Tyler Brennan’s exam. He’d mixed up the kinematic equations for projectile motion again, using the wrong formula for vertical displacement. But at least he’d shown his work this time. Progress.

I marked down partial points for the parts that were correct.

The workshop behind the cabin had been quiet for the past hour. Axel had disappeared into it after lunch, claiming he needed to work more on one of his projects. I suspected he was just giving me space. When I’d asked if I could go in there and join him, he’d been cagy. Which certainly had my curiosity raging.

Before that, we’d had a brief disagreement about the caves—he’d wanted to make another attempt today, push himself further, but I’d put my foot down. Especially after our late start to the day. “I have seventy exams to grade,” I told him. “And you’ve been in that cave three times in the last two weeks. You’re making incredible progress, but you don’t have to punish yourself.”

He’d looked like he wanted to keep arguing. That stubborn set to his jaw, the one that meant he was going to dig his heels in. But then his gaze had softened, taking in the stack of papers on the kitchen island.

“Fine,” he’d said finally. “You’re right. We’ll go next weekend instead.”

Now I was second-guessing myself. What if we could have made it all the way to the chamber today? What if I was letting the curse win by choosing grading over breaking it?

But that thought didn’t consume me the way it would have two months ago. Two months ago, I would have sacrificed anything—my job, my sleep, my sanity—to get closer to that knife. Would have pushed Axel past his limits without a second thought if it meant breaking the curse one day sooner.

Now? Now I could wait until next weekend. Could prioritize my students’ exams and Axel’s mental health and just...living.

When had that happened? When had the knife stopped being my only reason for breathing?

I knew the answer, even if I didn’t want to examine it too closely.

Deep down, I knew I made the right call. Axel needed rest as much as I needed to do my actual job. Besides, we were close. I could feel it. A few more attempts and we’d reach the knife.

Then everything would change.

A part of me was still fuming about what he had said. About the mate bond. About how I’d feel differently once I had my magic back, once I didn’t need him anymore.

He was wrong. I knew that.

But the fear in his eyes when he’d said it? That had been real.

A sound cut through my thoughts. The crunch of tires on the gravel drive.

I looked up, squinting through the trees. A sleek black sedan was making its way up the lane, picking through the winding path toward the cabin. My brows pulled tight.