Page 47 of Bad Witch

“Do they?” What did that have to do with me? Fender was in some kind of romantic entanglement with Aradina Stonebridge.

“And growly and domineering and just plain possessive,” she added.

I screwed up my face. “I don’t like that kind of behavior.” I’d been raised to fear males, to see them as the enemy. It had taken me a lot to trust anyone, especially the males I’d met when I’d first left the cottage. The only reason I’d approached Raiden when I had was because I’d overheard a female here at the hospital talking about him, saying he was a good lover, gentle, and undemanding. Apparently, we had different definitions of gentle, lover or not.

“Right,” Mags said, a strange look on her face. “I guess I thought that there might be something more going on between you and Fender.”

He was very handsome, and yes, he was most definitely a good male, but he was also a little unpredictable. Okay, yes, I experienced more moments of ease when I was with him than fear now, but there were still the odd moments of concern. He was volatile at times, but I guessed that was his nature.

“There are very few males I have time for,” I said, telling her the truth. “Bram seems like a good male. But that’s something I can only assume. Based on the fact that you’re in love with him, and since you seem happy and content, I believe he is good, at least to you. Jack is level-headed and doesn’t behave in a way that concerns me. Luka is a kind male as well, and gentle.” And sadly, for me, not an option. “Those are the kinds of males I prefer. Yes, Fender has become a friend, but I would never choose him as an intimate partner. I would never choose a male who runs hot, or is quick to anger. There are too many risks, too many variables.” For a brief moment I had wished Fender was a real option. I was most definitely attracted to him, but there were a lot of reasons why it wasn’t a good idea. He was my patient, and despite the things I’d just said to Mags, my friend, and I wanted to keep his friendship. He was also seeing someone else, but the main reason was Fender was a hellhound. Gentle and hellhound had to be an oxymoron.

He tried, I could acknowledge that, but being so temperate around me, had to be going against his nature, and going against one’s nature never worked, not long term.

That odd look was back on her face. “Just so you know, hounds can be a bit extra when they care about someone. And now that you’re his friend, he might be a little on the overprotective side. But hounds don’t hurt females. Ever. They pretty much worship them. The one hound I know of who did try to hurt a female was put to death and sent to Limbo. That’s how seriously they take it. Fender might get a little growly, or demanding, but he would never harm you. Not ever.”

Fender had said something to that effect, hadn’t he? “Oh, I just assumed...” What, that because he had an animal side he was dangerous? When I’d panicked in the forest and he’d shifted to his beast’s form, he’d been nothing but gentle and patient with me. I’d known instinctively that he’d never hurt me, hadn’t I? I shook my head. “I don’t know what I thought,” I said instead of admitting I’d judged him harshly, that I’d allowed ingrained deep-seated fears to blind me.

“You can ask anyone. A lot of females hang out at Hell Fire, the hounds bar, not just to hook up with one of them but because they know they can go there, drink, get messy, have fun, and they’ll be safe. Literally every female shifter, witch, and vamp in the city knows it. So you don’t need to worry about him doing anything that could hurt you, okay?” She held my gaze. “Fear can make people behave rashly or lash out, but I need you to know you have nothing to fear from him, or any of them.”

“Okay,” I said, confused by the odd note to her voice.

My heart started to race a little faster. Why was she looking at me like that? Was she worried I’d hurt him or one of his brothers? No, she couldn’t know. There was no way. She was just being a good friend, that’s all. “Thank you,” I said and quickly stood. “I, uh, need to get back to work. I promised Mrs. Griffin I’d read her a couple pages of her book before I finished up.” Then I rushed out of there.

After my shift ended, I headed to the clubhouse like I promised Fender I would, even though all I wanted to do was curl up on my bed with Glinda and sob. I’d struggled today, even more than yesterday, probably because the hope I’d been holding on to, that I’d been desperately trying to cling to, had slipped away. When you were forced to sit with a deathly sick and unconscious child while his parents were fighting for their lives in the bed beside them or an elderly couple died within minutes of each other, hope chipped away until it was impossible.

“Temp,” Roman called as I walked by the garage, lifting a hand in greeting. “Fen’s in the clubhouse.”

I waved back and smiled, because showing pain, like fear, was a weakness, and weaknesses were dangerous. It didn’t matter that Roman wouldn’t harm me, it was my ingrained survival instincts, always at the ready, always searching for the threat.

He returned the smile and I couldn’t help but notice how attractive Roman was, they all were unusually handsome, but I guess it depended on your preferences. They were handsome, yes, if a bit hairy for my liking, and large, but after what Mags said, I felt a lot more at ease entering their territory.

The clubhouse was quiet when I walked in. I searched the room and spotted Fender. He was standing at one of the tall tables, a coffee mug in front of him, looking down at his phone. The sun streaked in through one of the windows and his auburn hair, knotted at the nape of his neck, shone. It wasn’t just auburn, it was threaded with golds and deeper reds. His beard was neatly trimmed and he ran his hand down it while he concentrated on his screen. The muscles of his forearms flexed. He had very nice arms. A little flutter swirled behind my sternum and spiraled down. What the heck was that?

He looked up, and his mouth curled into a smile when he saw me, flashing the tips of his canines. His amber eyes crinkled at the corners as that gold shimmer slid over his irises.

“Peaches.”

The swirl-and-flutter combo happened again, and I sucked in a breath. “Hey, Fender.” I walked to where he stood, then looked around us, because suddenly looking directly at him seemed difficult. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s usually pretty quiet in here during the day. I set everything up over there. Thought you might prefer it to being in the den, since it’s nice out and you’ve been stuck in the clinic most of the day.”

I tilted my head back, looking up at him. “That’s…really thoughtful, thanks.”

“No problem.” He headed for the table and I followed.

He really was huge. I’d been aware of it, of course, but I hadn’t really allowed myself to think about it too much—now I could think of nothing else. I couldn’t believe that he’d shifted into a ginormous hellhound and I’d ridden on his back. He’d done that for me, to stop me from panicking. He’d been protective, putting me first, making sure I was comfortable. Magnolia’s words filtered through my head. If I was looking for someone to experience sexual pleasure with, then maybe a hound, despite their size, would be the way to go.

“Do hounds enjoy casual sex?” I said as I sat across the table from him.

He was lowering himself into his chair, and he stilled midair, his gaze slicing to me. “Say again?”

“Hounds, do they have a lot of casual sex?”

His fingers curled around the lip of the table and he slowly sat. “They do, yeah.” His eyes had gone darker but were just as warm and attractive. “Hounds like sex. They also have limited emotions, so no strings suits us. At least until we find our mates.”

“What happens then?” I asked, because I’d seen Warrick with Willow and he was, for lack of a better word, besotted with her.

“Our emotions develop, and we’re all about our mate.”