Page 60 of Bonded Through Bite

“At least seventeen shifters and nine witches,” the alpha replies and now I can see the rage shimmering in his eyes. That relaxes me further, he’s actually pissed about this.

“The witches know the exact number?”

“Apparently, they ‘keep in touch’,” he mutters.

Ahh, so the feelings toward the witches are not too fond either. “And none of them have been found?”

“Not that I know of.”

“When and where was the latest disappearance?”

“Two weeks ago, my pack,” the alpha says and his shoulders slump for just a fraction before he pulls himself back together. “Will you make inquiries? This has to stop.”

“I agree. Come along, and bring the witch,” I say, turning on my heel.

“What? Where are we going?” the alpha asks, but I hear them following and the car door opening. Still, I don’t smell her. Naughty witch, masking her scent. From me or from someone else? Witches can be tasty. I’ll readily admit to draining one or two in my youth, but they are on my land now.

“Drop the spell,” I bark and spin to face her. She’s pretty. Large brown eyes, wide with surprise—not fear—look back at me from an oval face. Her hair is luscious brown and her olive skin tone complements the package. Every detail that I notice irritates me further, and her scent is still absent. “If I can’t smell you in two seconds, you are going to be my next snack. Drop. The. Spell,” I growl and let my fangs show.

“Mr. Moretti,” the alpha tries to butt in.

“It’s all right, Alpha,” the witch says.

“Time’s up,” I say and take a step closer to her.

“Wa—” The witch falls silent when I snag her arm and bite down on her wrist.

It only takes the tiniest sip to push past whatever spell she has going on and I taste her smell in her blood. Lavender and other herbs, the tiniest hint of smoke, cloyingly sweet like incense.

I release her and wave a hand to indicate that they should move forward. Several of the wolves are growling, ready to pounce, and when the alpha opens his mouth, I let my own growl loose. The deep timbre and strength of it overpowers the younger wolves and reminds the alpha who he’s dealing with.

I’m old enough to walk away from this, even if they all pounce at once. Agreeing to eight wolves wasn’t arrogance, it was calculated, a move to throw them off their game. Make them overconfident so they would play their hand faster. The illusion is no longer needed.

“Shut the fuck up and follow me,” I grind out and point at the witch. She’s the only one who doesn’t seem to be on a warpath as she stares at the neat marks on her wrist. “You, stay close. No magic without my say-so.”

“Why—”

I cut her off by turning my back on her and storming toward the forest. A few of the wolves are still growling, but it’s more anxious and they all fall in line behind me. Quickly, I lead them through the garden and blur forward so that I have the tarp off by the time they catch up with me.

“She was dumped on my grounds sometime this afternoon or early evening. One of yours, I presume,” I say to the alpha who turns white and drops to his knees next to the body.

“Alyssa,” he whispers, horror clear on his face.

Growls and howls rise around me. The witch sidles next to me and whispers very, very quietly, “The alpha’s mate. I saw her this morning.”

“You didn’t know she was missing,” I say, not bothering to modulate my tone.

“Where did you find her?” the alpha is barely coherent, his body shaking like he’s trying to hold back the shift.

“Here. As far as I could see, she was killed elsewhere and dumped here.”

“Call the Wolf King,” the alpha barks to someone. “Bring her home.”

And then his wolf breaks free. A large, gray wolf stands in his place and howls out his heartbreak. He noses the body a couple of times and sniffs around before pounding into the forest. I watch him go. He’s on the hunt, looking for revenge. Maybe his nose will lead him in the right direction, but I doubt it.

Still, he needs to run.

The pup, Jere, lifts the body in his arms and the pack turns to go. I set my hand on the witch’s arm, holding her back. She raises an eyebrow but stays in place when the pack trudges back toward the cars.