Page 97 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

Axel’s hand tightened on mine. “Dance with me.”

I blinked up at him. “You sure? You don’t have to⁠—”

“Want to.” He was already pulling me toward the barn entrance. “Said I would, didn’t I?”

Inside, the barn had been transformed. The usual farming equipment pushed aside to create a dance floor. More string lights crisscrossed the ceiling. The band—a fiddle player, guitarist, and someone on stand-up bass—played from a small stage at the far end. Hay bales lined the walls, offering seating for those taking a break.

We made our way onto the floor. A nervous, excited energy made my pulse race. Everything about this moment felt like a date. Felt real.

Axel drew me close, one hand settling warm on my lower back, the other holding mine against his chest. We weren’t really dancing—just swaying, letting the music move us. His chin came to rest on top of my head. My cheek pressed against his heartbeat.

For a moment, everything else faded. The crowd. The noise. The ever-present worry about Ambrose. There was just this. Just us. Wrapped up in each other under the autumn stars.

“This is nice,” I murmured against his chest.

“Aye.” His arms tightened around me. “It is.”

The song ended, shifted to something more upbeat. Neither of us moved.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “For coming tonight. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“Worth it.” He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes warm in the firelight. And I knew he meant it. “Seeing you like this. Happy. That’s worth anything.”

My heart clenched. I stretched up on my toes and kissed him. Soft. Sweet. Not caring who saw.

When I pulled back, his eyes had gone dark. “Careful, little witch. Keep looking at me like that and I’ll drag you behind the barn, flip that infuriating skirt up over your arse, and have my way with ye.” His accent thickened, making my belly clench.

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Because I wanted sex—had wanted it for the better part of a week.

“It’s a promise.” But there was warmth underneath the heat. Affection.

I laughed, taking his hand and tugging him back toward the crowd. “Later. I want more cider. And I still need to find Iris.”

We made our way toward the cider stand, weaving through the press of bodies. The festival had grown more packed as the evening wore on⁠—

And that’s when I saw him.

A flash of familiar features in the crowd. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Eyes that met mine for just a moment before disappearing behind a group of teenagers.

My blood went cold.

Ambrose.

I stopped so abruptly that Axel nearly ran into me.

“What?” His voice was instantly alert, his body shifting into something predatory. He could smell my scent, the way it had changed, if his wolf nose was working as it should. “What is it?”

“I thought I saw—“ I craned my neck, searching the crowd. But there was nothing. Just strangers. Just families and couples and people enjoying the festival. “Never mind. I thought I saw someone.”

Axel’s hand found my waist, pulling me against his side. “Who?”

“It was nothing. I’m sure it was nothing.” But my heart was racing, that cold dread spreading through my veins. Because I knew it was Ambrose. And I knew that if I told Axel, it would ruin the mood between us. I wanted to hold on to our wonderful evening, just a little longer. “Can we just... can we get that cider?”

He studied my face for a long moment, clearly not believing me. But he didn’t push. Just nodded and guided me toward the stand, positioning his body between me and the crowd.

I tried to shake it off. The fact that he was here. But I couldn’t quite manage it.

Because for just a moment—just a split second before he vanished into the crowd—I could have sworn he’d smiled at me.