Page 30 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

Blackthorn, on the other hand, leaned back to regard him with distaste. “We’re in the middle of a private conversation.”

“Doesn’t look like the lady wants much to do with your… private conversation.”

“Axel.” She was still blinking, as if the sight of him was completely unexpected. Or perhaps she hadn’t expected him to intervene. In fact, why was he? This wasn’t his business.

Yet, he would never stand for bullying.

“Making friends with the locals, are you?” Blackthorn made his disgust clear.

“Who I ‘make friends with’ is none of your concern, Ambrose.”

“I’ll not have my fiancé⁠—”

“I am not your fucking fiancé,” she cried, loud enough that the entire coffee shop went quiet. Heads turned.

Color rose on Blackthorn’s cheeks. His eyes darted around the establishment. He opened his mouth⁠—

“I think you should leave, Blackthorn,” Axel gritted out. “Preferably now.”

“No one wants you here, Ambrose,” she added. “Least of all me.”

Blackthorn shot to his feet. “I am not leaving this backwater town alone. I will bring you home.”

“Good luck with that, ye bloody bastard,” Axel said, taking a step forward. Over his dead fucking body was this pathetic excuse of a person taking her anywhere against her will.

He tried to tell himself he would have reacted this way for anyone, female, male, or otherwise, but somehow he knew that wasn’t true. Knew he was reacting because it was her. Because somehow, she’d gotten under his skin.

Blackthorn’s expression darkened. The male might have power—that much was evident from the stench pouring off him—but he was a child in comparison to the years Axel had lived. His tantrum ended now.

“Get out.” His voice was a low, wolfish growl.

Blackthorn scoffed. “We’re not done here, Rebecca.” Then he strode from the establishment.

Axel immediately took the vacated seat, studying the witch in front of him. He’d once thought her scent unsavory—the witchy parts, anyway. But it was paradise compared to Blackthorn’s foul odor.

Her cheeks were flushed. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. They were pierced, her ears. She had several rings decorating her cartilage and a set of diamond studs in her lobe.

He cleared his throat, his gaze locking with hers. “Are you all right?”

His voice came out rougher than intended. He needed something to drink. She’d disrupted his schedule.

“I… I’m okay.”

“Thought the two of you were together.”

“To-together? Why would you… Oh.” She closed her eyes briefly. “The tabloids?” He hummed in confirmation. “Right. He’s my ex.”

“I’ve gathered that.”

She scrubbed a hand over her face. There were bags under her eyes. She looked tired, like she hadn’t been sleeping. And… Had she lost weight? It had only been a week since they’d last seen each other—right here in this very building. That was too soon to lose weight, wasn’t it?

“Have you been eating?”

“Have I been…? That’s what you’re going with?”

“You don’t look well.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Believe it or not, I just ate one of your favorites, a chocolate-chocolate-chunk cookie. The last one, by the way.”