Page 4 of Knot His Type


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I didn’t want to be cruel. An arranged bond wasn’t as bad as a forced bond, but I knew it was still difficult on the witch. I wondered what had prompted her to enter into such a bond. Many times, it was familial pressure to make a certain connection between two witchkind families. It wasn’t unlike the sort of shit I used to see among humans back in England with their arranged marriages.

She huffed. “Jack, why don’t we just try it? Maybe we could board a plane, jet off somewhere far away and not leave our room for days on end.”

“You know there’s nothing in this world that would ever make me get on a plane.” It wasn’t the point, but everyone in Mystic Springs knew that Jack Beaumont and flying contraptions didn’t go together.

Her face twisted in a pout. Somewhere, there was a warlock that pout would work on. Hell, I suspected that pout would turn most straight human males into pure putty in her hands. She was far from unattractive.

She just wasn’t Claire Landon.

Part of me wondered if I would have been so unaffected by Lana if I hadn’t been the one standing in that cabin with Claire Landon all those years ago. If I hadn’t been the one to find her that day. Would I be dragging Lana out of my office and rutting her for days on end?

Ever since that day I’d happened on Claire at the worst moment of her life, I’d been unable to touch another witch. The idea turned my stomach. I hated myself for it. Hated how it made me feel.

But the bond that had been initiated between Claire and me had never been Claire’s choice. I wasn’t about to force her into something that had been thrust upon her. Hopefully one day, Claire could go out into the world and find her true mate and I could get back to being my miserable self.

Forcing Claire to complete the bond would only make her unhappy. Make her resent me. Maybe not immediately, but some day.

Much like Lana resented her own mate. She’d given in and allowed herself to be pushed into an arranged bond with the one she now called her mate.

And look where that had gotten her. Here, in my office, all but begging me to put my knot inside her. I never wanted to put Claire in that position.

“That’s never going to be possible, Lana, because I won’t rut another warlock’s mate.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Before Claire, I’d taken on a few unhappy witches who had been bonded just as Lana had. At the time, I hadn’t felt the least bit remorseful about it. They’d already given their mates the heirs they required. They deserved pleasure and happiness. And they had never complained because if there was one thing I prided myself on, it was that I knew how to see a witch through her heat.

“I’m sorry, Lana,” I said, rising from my seat. “I know you’re close, but you’re going to have to get one of your regulars to help you. There’s always the heat lodge.”

Lana sneered at the mention of the lodge.

“That lodge is for young witches who are too stupid to find a willing warlock to help them through their heats,” she spat. While Lana might have been the victim of an unhealthy arranged bond, she’d had no trouble acclimating to the elevated social standing her mate’s position had given her.

Standing over her, I raised my eyebrows, waiting for her to rise and make her way out of the office. Finally, she gave a huff and stood. But I knew that this little dance of ours was far from over. We’d been sidestepping each other for months and likely would be for months to come.

As I led her out of the station, I noticed Carson’s head snap to attention as his eyes tracked us. Another smirk. The bastard was asking for it.

Leading her to her car, Lana made several more volleys for my attention. Finally, I saw her into her car and heaved a sigh of relief as the car pulled out of the lot and the lights receded down the highway. The station wasn’t on the outskirts of town, but it was far enough outside the downtown area that people had to drive a couple of miles to get there. If Lana was smart, she’d make a U-Turn and head back toward the heat lodge.

As I turned and made my way back into the station, my chest grew tight. My mind seized on the worries of another.

Claire.

She was broadcasting. I didn’t know how she did it. I didn’t know how I always picked it up. But I did.

And this time, the feelings were nearly enough to make my knees buckle.

Fear. Worry. Displeasure. Irritation.

My breath caught in my lungs. My heart sped up and even though she was nowhere around, I knew my heart was mimicking hers.

She might not be my true bond mate, but I could feel it just as if she were.

Claire Landon was in trouble.

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