Page 8 of Rogue Witch

I push the white light around and inside the wolf. His head whips around and he stares at me. I flush, oddly embarrassed. The white light falters and I imagine the Shadow’s satisfaction. I clear my mind. No, not my mind, I realize with a touch of panic. My heart. Serenity comes from the soul. I can’t allow the shifter to sacrifice himself for me. Rarely, are people truly selfless. Stony is selfless. My heart swells with love. She is a true friend.

“Give into the light,” I telepath the wolf.

His mouth relaxes and the snarl disappears as he returns his attention to the Shadow. Sadness tinges my peace. How can something so magnificent be evil? The white light dims. What the hell? I jerk my attention onto the ribbon of obsidian. It hovers five feet from the wolf.

Waiting.

That’s how the thing is working me. Sidetracking me with sadness over the waste of such beauty.

Sneaky mother fucker.

I dim the white light until instinct tells me the light won’t blind me, then open my eyes. The white light remains visible to my third eye, but I’m also seeing the rippling ribbon of black against natural sunlight—if natural can apply to a blue sun. The shifter twists his head and looks at me. I swear, he’s frowning.

“What?” I say.

Thankfully, he doesn’t answer. I would have serious doubts about my sanity if he did. Even here in this weird place.

“Why don’t you shift into human form?” I demand.

I watch the Shadow from the corner of my eye and refocus on relaxing. Peace and harmony are my swords. The wolf stares at me, but I sense he’s watching the Shadow from his peripheral vision, as well. I long for my sword or even a knife.

Shit, weapons don’t help against Shadows.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” I ask the wolf.

He continues to stare.

“It’ll go away if we ignore it,” I say. God, I hope I’m right.

The wolf doesn’t move.

I sigh. “Okay, then. You stay. I’m leaving.”

I start to turn. He gives a low bark.

I halt. “What? You think I’m going to face off with that thing?” I shake my head. “This might be your home, but it’s not mine. I’ve got to find my friends—not friends, so much.” I roll my eyes. I’m an idiot.

He looks at the Shadow, then lowers onto his belly and drops his snout onto his front paw. I blink. Nap time? I realize the white light has dimmed. I concentrate my third eye on the white light. The Shadow slows its ripple. Is the white light having an effect? I increase the brightness, but the Shadow doesn’t change.

The wolf heaves a deep sigh and I wonder if he is taking a nap. The Shadow grows fainter. What’s happening? I take two steps left so I can see the wolf’s face. His eyes aren’t closed, but he appears as docile as a kitten. I experience the strange desire to drop to my knees and run my fingers through his thick fur.

Dare I?

I study the Shadow. It’s still hovering. Is its color a little fainter? The teacher didn’t cover any of this in class. I look back at the wolf. His eyes are almost closed. I wonder if my touch will startle him, then realize that’s stupid. It’s almost impossible to sneak up on a wolf. But will he allow me to stroke him—and do I want to get closer to that fucking Shadow? I take a step toward the wolf.

His head jerks up and he looks at me. My heart jumps into overdrive. Okay, so he doesn’t want me near him. The Shadow grows darker. What the hell? Did the slight tension I just felt feed the Shadow? Not just me, the shifter clearly experienced some stress when I stepped closer. Excitement whips through me. Hell, that’s why the wolf laid down. He was relaxing, putting himself at rest…at peace.

The need to free my wrists nags at the back of my mind. My fingers are numb and will hurt like hell when I get loose. I look at the shoestring. “How the fu-heck”—I flick a glance at the Shadow, which doesn’t so much as flicker—“am I going to get untied?”

The wolf cocks his head.

“Any ideas?” I return my attention to the shoestrings. I guess I’ll have to gnaw them off.

The wolf pushes to his feet. I retreat, step on something uneven beneath the covering of snow and slip a few inches before catching myself. He stares at me.

Warmth begins a slow creep up my cheeks. “All right, fella. Let’s keep our distance.”

He takes another step closer. Fear tightens my stomach. The Shadow’s ripple grows more pronounced. My heart picks up speed. The wolf sighs—I think that’s a sigh—and lowers his backside to the ground, then lifts a paw in the air as if waving. Or inviting me to come closer.