Page 152 of Shifter Situations

He nodded, biting his lips together before saying, “I need you to use this spell on me.”

“What? It’s not a spell, Palmer. It’s an idea, an experiment.”

“It’ll burn his tracker off of me.”

“Yeah, maybe, but it’ll burn you in the process,” I argued.

He shrugged. “We have to do it before we go to Belfast, Love.”

“It’s going to hurt you, Palmer. I can’t do this,” I stressed.

“It’ll hurt worse if he shows up unannounced and catches us off guard.”

I shook my head, whispering, “I can’t—”

“You have to,” he interrupted. “It’s the only way.”

* * *

The trek back to the patio was the wrong kind of quiet. I stewed over the spell, nearly begging the universe to give us another way to free Palmer of the tracking magic.

He was positive there was no other way to do it short of politely asking the angel himself to remove it.

I wanted to kill the fucking angel even more than before.

I wanted to pickle his fucking head in a glass jar, preserve the look of defeat on his face when I tore him to shreds for being the reason that I—

Godsdamnit.

I wasn’t ready.

How could I prepare myself to knowingly harm my mate?

The spell didn’t call for a little heat. I needed a full-blown fucking inferno of hellfire to be rained down on him.

I paced the yard, memorizing the Latin phrases as he prepped the runes and drawings from his paper. I hated this so fucking much, but I worked on settling myself.

I would do anything for my mates.

I was capable of the magic needed to complete the spell. I didn’t need to understand what he was doing; I just needed to get the words right.

I could do that for him.

But would I be able to live with myself if it all fell to shit because I messed up?

He was confident, unwavering in his decision, so I took a deep breath and channeled his feelings.

When everything was ready, he approached the patio, stripping his shirt off then unbuckling his belt.

“What are you doing?” I asked, concerned I may have misinterpreted the Latin words.

“Taking my clothes off.”

“I see that, but why?”

He grinned. “The tracker is on my skin, Love, or under my skin. I can’t have anything interfering with the magic, so I need to be naked.”

“This is how I picture demon summoning rituals,” I mused with no humor.