Page 106 of Bewitching the Wolf

Finally, the rumble turns into a baritone voice, warm at the edges.

“Egh, Jax Summers. I’m right here. I’ve always been here. That bite Traggar gave you, it just opened you to my presence. I gave you the determination to keep searching for your mom. I gave you the courage to claim your mate. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you fuck up when her sweet little ass is waiting for us back home. So hold on for the ride, because you and me, bro, we are taking this lousy bitch down…”

I feel my wolf’s strength flooding through every bone and muscle and sinew until there’s no separation between Jax the man and Jax the wolf. And I realize there never has been. I just needed to wake up and freakin’ own it.

My eyes fly open.

I stare into Marsha’s grotesque visage.

And roar.

CHAPTER 33

TIPPY

I sit beside Aunt Felicia in the Vault, watching the three books of runes throw sparks of light between them, like a secret game of ping pong. I wish I could understand what they’re saying, but my magic is not strong enough yet.

There are so many things I still have to learn. But I know I am ready for the challenge.

I am the mate of the High Priest of the Dawnwrought Coven.

I will be the first wixen to welcome monsters and humans to Earth’s bounty.

But first, we have to get through today. It would be untrue if I said I’m not anxious, but deep in my heart, I trust the white magic. I trust Aurora’s judgment.

I trust Jax.

I’m trying to devise an energizing potion for Jax to take when he returns, and it’s complicated And okay, yes, it does have aphrodisiac components, which is new for me… but obviously, that aspect is vital. He may be exhausted on his return… I, on the other hand, am still charged from him edging me before he left. I need relief, but I promised Jax I wouldn’t pleasure myself.

And I always keep my promises.

I glance at Aunt Felicia’s face. Her expression is calm. From time to time she looks at the books on the plinth, then resumes her knitting, a mix of silver and gold yarn she’s turning into some kind of loose flowing garment.

“That’s pretty,” I remark, trying for something mundane to keep my nerves steady. “Is it for a special occasion?”

“The Spring Moon Festival.”

“Ah.” My mouth dries a little.

“This year, it will be held on Earth. I’m helping Traggar organize it.” Her lips get that coy slant to them I often see when she’s around the handsome wolfman. “And you will be there with Jax, of course.”

“Goddess willing,” I mutter.

My aunt puts down her knitting. “It’s going to be fine, Tippy-Anna. Trust the runes.”

I nod, then, plucking up my courage, I decide to ask about her relationship with Traggar.

“Auntie, you and Traggar, were you ever…”

“Lovers, you mean?” She cocks a brow at me.

I nod.

“We came close to being. But no. The time was not ours. Back then, the runes were not aligned. We had to accept that there was something bigger than our wants and needs, something much more important that we had to devote ourselves to.”

My jaw drops. “You sacrificed your relationship⁠—”

“For the greater good, yes Tippy-Anna.”