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“You had major surgery. Your ribs had collapsed your lungs and one of them had pierced your heart. Alfonso took care of all of it.”
“Right. He was here. Alfonso. A few minutes ago.” He’d removed his catheter, but he didn’t say that to Maeve.
“You were transfused as well.”
“With your blood?” The thought he might have witches blood running through his veins, troubled him. He was a wolf.
“Mine and a couple of shifters.”
She looked pale. Another thought hit him. “How many times did you donate?”
“Twice.”
“Wait. How long have I been here?”
“Four days.”
He shifted his gaze away from her and could feel his brow tighten. He could remember lying face down in the rocky dirt of the Graveyard, blood flowing over his face from a head injury. “I should have died out there.”
“You would have. And yes, you should have. We don’t know why you survived.”
He remembered. “It was my wife. She came to me. She said I was supposed to live another two hundred years. How could she come to me?”
“Ghosts visit dead-talker territory all the time. It’s not that unusual.”
“Right. I should be used to it by now.”
“Yes, you should. You’ve lived here ten years.”
“I have.” Maybe it was losing so much blood or having other alter blood in his body, but he couldn’t bring his thoughts together. His mind kept jumping around.
He turned to look at her again. Because she sat so close, just on the edge of the bed, he could see her clearly. Her light blue eyes always got to him. They carried an internal light that made him trust her when he knew he shouldn’t.
She was so beautiful. Her lips were full. Kissable. He recalled some of his more inventive fantasies about her and his body warmed to the thought. Over the past couple of weeks, he’d toyed with the idea of asking her on a date.
As he looked at her, a sudden lightning-like sensation began in his head and traveled the length of his body. Without warning, everything he was as an alpha male wolf came alive. He could feel a light layer of fur rise on the backs of his hands and the back of his neck and on his cheeks. Desire for her sharpened.
Something had changed with her and his alpha wolf loved it.
Much to his shock, realization struck: Maeve had alpha-female capacity. If he’d needed confirmation, her next move confirmed the truth. She parted her lips, lifted her chin and when she flared her nostrils, he knew she was scenting him, though not like a witch at all. In this moment, she looked wolf.
She seemed startled. “What am I smelling, Braden? What is that? It has a sharp edge, but it’s like a kind of vanilla I use called Madagascar. Why are you releasing a vanilla scent?”
The fogginess in his head dissipated completely. “You’re smelling my wolf, Maeve.” When had this happened? How had he not seen it, sensed it, or smelled her potential before now?
She looked as though she would say something then stopped. She glanced at the ceramic pot she’d brought into the room. It had a small, flat candle beneath to heat up the contents and gave off a floral scent.
Finally, she reverted her gaze to his. “Why am I scenting your wolf now? I don’t understand.”
It was exactly the right question, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer it. “I’m not sure I understand the timing either.”
“I’ve always been attracted to you, Braden. But this feels like something more, much more. Are you doing this to me? Is it a wolf thing?” Again, she glanced at the black pot.
He turned to look at it as well. In fact, he was feeling much better. “Wait a minute. What is it you’ve set up over there? Is this a witch thing?”
“Yes. It’s a healing infusion. You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”
“I am. But what’s in that?”
