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“Flowers mostly. There’s also a touch of emerald flame. Two drops to be exact of a very purified product.”
“You’ve used a flame drug to heal me?” He lifted his hand and waved it in the direction of the pot.
She lowered her shoulders and set her chin. Again, she looked more wolf than witch. “I did. I’ve found a small portion of emerald flame increases the potency of whatever I’m working on.”
He shook his head slowly. “This isn’t right, Maeve. No drugs of any kind. That’s my rule.”
She shrugged. “I used to think that way as well. But I’ve found the drug to be a powerful delivery system for my spells. I’m also extremely careful with it. You’d been in a coma so long, I finally decided to
create an infusion with the drug. And I know it’s helping, even now.”
He almost told her to take it away. But his wolf stopped him. He breathed in the aromatic substance and could feel the level of healing that came from the infuser. He’d be a fool not to make use of it. He was an alpha-wolf, a Border Patrol officer, and he was on a mission to find his wife’s killers. He needed to get back to his usual strength as soon as possible.
“I have to get out of here.”
“Sure. You’re free to go anytime.” Maeve rose from the bed and waited.
He glanced at her. He’d caught an odd intonation in her voice. “What?”
“Go ahead. You can go. No one’s stopping you.”
He moved as if to sit up, but all he could do was lean forward about five inches. Then nothing. He flopped back against the pillows.
He tried again.
Same result.
Dammit, he was so weak, he couldn’t even lift himself to a sitting position.
She chuckled softly. “You’ll need at least a few more hours to get back to full steam. The good news is, you woke up. Beyond that, are you hungry?”
The thought of food put his stomach into overdrive. He placed a hand on his abdomen. “I could go for a big steak. Ribeye, bone in. Rare. Really rare.”
“I’ll be back in a few.”
He watched her leave the room. She wore snug blue jeans which meant he had nice view of her ass. His body warmed up again, only this time he felt a growl form in his throat. He decided what-the-hell and let loose. The rumbling sound drove through the bedroom and straight for her.
The witch stopped in her tracks.
He smiled.
~ ~ ~
As she put her feet back in motion, Maeve trembled. She felt as though Braden’s growl had unhinged every joint in her body. She couldn’t even fathom why she was still standing upright.
She supposed it was a wolf thing designed to put a female on her knees. She’d heard stories about shifter males, how they liked to take their mates from behind and bite the back of their necks. A shiver tracked straight down her spine.
She’d always been drawn to Braden, even from the first time he’d come into her candle shop and grilled her about her witchiness. He was a six-five pile of muscle and bone with shoulders so broad she’d recently tried to compute the size of them. That had been two weeks ago. He’d caught her looking and had asked if he had something on his shirt. He’d made a big pretense of wiping non-existent things off his sleeves.
He was being absurd. “Don’t pretend women aren’t checking you out all the time. Why would I be any different?”
His smile had remained but something grew more serious than she’d expected in the gorgeous green shards of his eyes. “I don’t care about other women, Maeve. But I confess I like that you’re looking.”
Something about the way he was with her, direct and no-nonsense, had always appealed to her. She had a strong sense he respected her even if he disliked witches generally.
She felt lightheaded as she formed the thought, I want him.
She passed through her living room and crossed the stone floor to the spiral staircase leading to ground level. She had a kitchen in her apartment, but she rarely cooked. She preferred to take her meals with the Landing residents in the communal dining room.
