Page 61 of Rejected By the Winter Wolf

After a moment, I feel her weight settle on my back. Heat flushes through me, and I ignore the way my cock jumps to attention. Her heartbeat fills my ears.

She stays like that for over an hour, completely still. My mind wanders, but it never goes far from the mate bond that’s singing between us. Can she feel it? The way this is so right and wrong at the same time is a painful realization.

It shouldn’t feel right at all.

I shouldn’t want the witch to touch me, or to touch her in return. But my control doesn’t work like this, as shown by our moment against the door last night. Loathing and peace take up equal space in my chest.

Her death grip on me eases as soon as we cross from gravel to pavement.

“Thank God,” she murmurs, barely audible over the roar of the engine.

I reach down and pat her leg without thinking. To comfort? She doesn’t need that from me. Well—she might need it, but I shouldn’t want to give it.

She picks her head up off my back and finally looks around. We’re still a good way outside of the closest city, but there are signs of life. A stop sign, a driveway vanishing into the trees. Around the corner is a gas station, and I need to put some distance between us before I combust.

This place is used to us coming in every so often. It’s the closest place to fill up our bikes and equipment. Every other month, I come down in the truck and refill our gas cans. The owner doesn’t particularly like me, but he also doesn’t object either.

I coast into the lot and park next to a pump.

Astra is a bit slow to climb off. Her legs are unsteady. I cup her elbow to stabilize her and get a scalding look in reply. She yanks out of my hold as soon as she gets her balance back.

“Can you show me how to get my bag? My wallet.”

I raise my eyebrow. “What do you need money for?”

She pauses. “I’m thirsty.”

“You don’t need money.” It’s a selfish instinct to provide for her that makes me say it. I instantly hate it, but it’s too late now. “I’ll get it.”

“I don’t want to owe you anything.”

She doesn’t, does she? That eases the self-guilt building in my chest. I’m not doing this for her—I’m doing it to spite her.

“Well, too fucking bad.” I head into the store.

She huffs behind me, then follows. Grudgingly. I swear, her footsteps are more like stomps.

The guy behind the register is the owner. His brows rise when he spots me. “Didn’t think I’d see you for another few weeks yet, Kian.”

I lift one shoulder. “You know my plans are always changing.”

Astra pushes in behind me, her hair swinging in front of her face and barely concealing her Mark. She isn’t using one of those stones she snuck back. Or, okay, took back after I got a little distracted. That could be the real reason she wanted to get into her bag.

When I first saw her in the bar, she was concealing her Mark, but she didn’t smell like magic.

I snap my fingers. I knew I had to be careful around her.

She avoids the man and darts down the closest aisle, heading for the cooler in the back. I follow her, snagging a chocolate bar. My secret weakness. I keep track of the top of Astra’s head as she moves from waters to sodas, then farther down.

While she looks for something, I head to the front.

I toss the candy on the counter, then lean against it to watch for the witch. And to make sure no one else comes in and fucks with us.

“Do you pay any mind to those news reports?” the store owner asks.

I raise an eyebrow. “Not a big fan of the news these days.”

He nods his agreement. “Same. This time, they’re saying a bad virus is going around.”