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“I’m already trying not to panic every single damn day that I might kill you,” Sable blurts, her gaze darting between the four of us. “Every night, I worry my magic is going to rise up and attack you. Or that Cleo won’t just drag me into the bond, but she’ll take over my body and use me to massacre the entire village. Strengthening the magic inside me feels like the very last thing I should ever do.”
I can see by the stubborn set of her jaw and the way her lower lip juts out that she’s adamant on this. I get her point, really. I’d give anything to go back and protect my pack the way she so stoically protects us, even at the risk of denying an inherent aspect of herself. But I’d die if something happened to Sable, and Archer’s right. The only way to keep
her safe—truly safe—is for her to master the witch and use that power to her advantage.
And I think maybe I can talk her into it.
I lift my chin, catching Archer’s gaze, then jerk my head at the door to indicate I want the others to leave. Luckily, he’s a smart guy, and he gets my sign language without me needing to explain.
He grabs Trystan’s arm as he slides off the bed, and the two of them gather their clothes off the floor.
“I’m going to make some coffee,” Archer says. “Ridge, you wanna help?”
Ridge raises an eyebrow at me, and I just give him a single, almost imperceptible nod. I know they’re all wondering what the fuck I’m doing taking point on this particular battle. I was the one who fought hardest against Sable’s transition to witch. I was the one who almost gave her up because I couldn’t handle the truth.
But that’s precisely why I’m the right man to convince her. When you almost make the worst mistake in your life, you’ve got the point of view necessary to prove how wrong you were in the first place.
Archer leans over and kisses Sable on the head, and Trystan does the same except on the lips and with more than a little passion behind it, because he’s a goddamn show off. Ridge simply touches her face and says, “I’ll have a mug waiting for you,” and then the three of them leave the room. Archer glances back once before he closes the door, his expression still worried.
No need for that, I think. I’ve got this.
If Sable thinks their sudden departure is weird or out of character, she doesn’t mention it. In fact, she doesn’t even lift her head. She’s staring down at her hands in her lap, and she’s got her fingers so intertwined they look like undoable knots. The last time I saw her look so dejected, her skin was racing with black marks against her will. I think it shows growth that she’s bleeding anxiety and the magic hasn’t appeared painted across her body.
The bedroom falls silent, though I can hear bright, happy birdsong outside with my heightened hearing. I’m sure she can too, except she’s too worried about what’s happening inside of herself to stop and smell the roses.
“I wish I wasn’t a witch,” she says in a small, broken voice. “I wish I was all wolf.”
I reach out and take her hands, gently untangling each finger from the ball she’s created. “You shouldn’t wish for that, moonlight.”
“Why? It’s the truth.” The words come out forcefully, but I can hear the tears behind them. She finally looks at me, and her blue eyes are red-rimmed, glittering with unshed tears.
My heart feels like a fucking stone in my chest, and I wonder how much of this is my fault. I set a precedent that made her feel only half-loved. Made her feel like only half a person. And even though I’ve told her how much I love her and tried to make up for the shitty way I acted in the past, I haven’t done it well enough. I haven’t done it right.
It’s up to me to fix this.
I tug her into my lap and wrap her in my arms. Her soft hair tickles my face as I rest my chin against her head, and I clench my jaw as self-recrimination rises up in me. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been a better mate.”
“What?” She shakes her head in confusion, shifting a little in my hold. “You’ve been a wonderful mate.”
“No, I haven’t,” I say simply. “I fell in love with you when I thought you were a wolf. When my wolf recognized you and chose you, before your wolf came out. But then your witch side showed itself first, and I… lost it. I just lost it.”
Sable straightens and pulls away just enough that she can look up into my eyes. “For obvious reasons, Dare. I haven’t forgotten about your pack. Some wounds can’t be healed.” Her hand brushes over the scars on her abdomen, and I can almost hear her unspoken words—I should know.
“I was even more of an asshole when I learned to love you despite the fact you’re a witch,” I say. “Because the truth is, my job is to love you for all of it. As your mate, I should love you for the wolf, for the witch, for every part that makes you Sable. I love you. You’re half witch. Therefore, I love your witch side just as much as I love your wolf side. I love all of you. Not despite anything. Because of everything.”
“That’s sweet,” she says, bumping my chest with her shoulder and offering me a small, fragile smile. “Thank you for loving me, Dare. I love you too. So much.”
I can tell she’s trying to shift the conversation, that she still doesn’t quite believe me. I grit my teeth, furious at the asshole I was in the past. I know I’m not the only person who made her doubt herself over her witch powers, but I hate that I played any part in making her question herself.
Still cradling her against me with one arm, I rest one hand on her chest, ignoring the way my cock thickens at the feel of the swell of her breast beneath my palm. Her breath hitches a little before resuming its steady rhythm.
“This heart?” I murmur, dropping my voice low. “It’s the best one I know. I’ve never met anyone like you, moonlight. I trust you with my life. I trust you with my heart. I fucking love and accept every single part of you. Just like you need to accept every part of yourself.”
She catches my hand in hers and looks away from me, her gaze sliding out the window into the golden afternoon light. “I don’t know if I can.”
Looking at the way the sunlight illuminates her face reminds me of the night I first saw her. I brush her hair back, sliding my fingers through the silken strands. Sometimes, when I fall back into old habits and think about running out into the wilderness to lay waste to the witches, I think of Sable in the moonlight. I think of how much I love her, and how thoroughly I know she belongs to me.
And all I want to do is stay.
