Page 32 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

“Unless Iris is a supernatural with powers that rival Ambrose Blackthorn, then I don’t think so.”

“Oh! And you are?”

His jaw clenched. “You’ll be far safer with me, lass. You’ll come to no harm under my watch. And just think of it, unlimited access to my land.”

“You cannot be serious. That’s how you want to convince me? Axel, what about my job? There’s a reason I rent a bungalow close to campus.”

“I’ll drive you to work.”

Rebecca scoffed. “And you’ll what, offer to take care of my bunnies too?”

“Your… what?” His mind tripped over her last question.

“Bunnies? You know, the things you people probably eat when you’re hungry?”

He reared back. “You have…bunnies?” He didn’t bother disguising the absolute look of horror forming on his face. “Like…as pets?”

“That is what one does with bunnies.” She stared at him. “Okay, well, someone who isn’t a wolf.”

“Leave the bunnies.”

She gasped. There was true anger in her expression. “Take it back. Take it back or you can leave my table.”

“It’s not your table.”

“Axel.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “God almighty. Fine. The bunnies can come too. But I won’t make any promises⁠—”

“If you so much as salivate in their direction, I will end you.”

Now didn’t seem a good time to tell her that it was statistically impossible, given the odds of her against him. Instead, his head lolled back before he pinned her with his gaze. “You and your bunnies will be safe in my home.”

She stared at him for several beats. It spoke to how much she feared Blackthorn, because at last she nodded and said, “Fine. But only because you’re the only supernatural I know. And…it would be easier to search for cave entrances.”

He felt his shoulders relax. He’d unpack that reaction later.

Her rental smelled like her.

Fortunately, her back was to him so she didn’t notice the way he closed his eyes and inhaled.

“Do you think bunnies can smell mongrels?” she called over her shoulder.

“Funny.”

“Just wondering if they’ll be nervous to meet you.”

“They don’t need to meet me.”

“They do if they’ll be living with you.”

He exhaled, not bothering with a response.

Her living room was cozy. It was already decorated for fall. Which told him enough. She was one of those—a holiday fanatic who barfed holiday themed decor over every surface.

“Is there a problem?” She was staring at him. He blinked and pulled his gaze away from the pumpkin floral arrangement taking up half her dining table.

“Problem?”