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Love you, I wrote back, tears pricking at my eyes.
Another wave of emotion overtakes me, thankful to have Chloe on our side through this chaos. I can only hope the coven will understand Jules had nothing to do with this—my wolf betrayal—and allow her to attend the academy. Maybe I can talk to Gideon about working at the bar to continue saving up to pay her tuition. If the academy doesn’t know where it came from, they shouldn’t ask any questions… I hope.
A breeze picks up through the window, and Gideon’s scent wafts into my room—cedarwood and caramel… I frown. And a small touch of mint? Aramin’s red hair flashes through my mind, and I get out of bed quietly, stepping toward the window. Gideon’s black wolf rushes into the forest—alone. My brows pull down as I chew on my lower lip. There was a vague minty smell at the dinner table tonight. Could that have been him? Could it have beenher—did he see her on his way back?
My nails lengthen into claws, carving into the wood windowsill as a searing jealousy blooms in my chest. I try to shake the thought from my mind. It shouldn’t matter who he sees or what he does. He isn’t mine.
Yes, he is. He is faithfully ours,my wolf says.
I scoff at her words and roll my eyes. It doesn’t matter because he won’t be ours for long. Once I get back to Lockwood Forest, I can find that witch and then the well. Then, we won’t have a mate, and maybe everything can go back to normal.
Back to normal? To the abuse of the woman who wants to kill you?My wolf laughs, mocking me, and I clench my jaw.
“Oh, just shut up,” I whisper. I hold back the crushing weight of sorrow, knowing normal will never come back. My home is gone, my mother will never stop trying to kill me, and my coven may never accept me back, even if I get rid of my wolf. But as a witch, the wolf council will never accept me, either. I have nowhere to go… nowhere to belong.
You belong here,with Gideon.
Groaning, I run my hands through my hair and pull it into a bun on the top of my head before sinking down onto the bed. If I can’t have normal back, then I can at least make a better future for Jules. Maybe Chloe needs a permanent roommate, even. I could live with her when I get my wolf under control—or gone. Jules can go to the academy. I can work with the humans, or maybe get my coven to believe I don’t have a wolf. Monique never had any proof I could shift anyway, right? We can make a new normal—abetternormal. Hope touches the edges of my mind, and a small smile lifts my lips.
It’ll be fine. But first—training.
Sleep evades me all night, and I toss and turn in between studying the shadows playing along the ceiling. Sighing, I throw the covers off as the first rays of sun peek through the window. I never heard Gideon come back last night, so I don’t bother pulling on my leggings, making my way downstairs in just his t-shirt. I yawn as I start a pot of coffee, the house quiet as the pot gurgles and the smell of caffeine permeates the space. Rubbing a hand over my face, I lean my elbow on the counter and rest my chin on my hand as I wait for it to finish brewing.
I quickly realize I don’t know where the mugs are and start opening each cabinet. Scrunching up my face, I try to think back to Mila and where she got the glasses for breakfast yesterday, but I remember they were already sitting on the counter.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I mutter, coming up empty handed on the fourth cabinet. For a brief moment, I consider a finder’s spell, but I dismiss it quickly. Knowing my luck, I’ll melt the cabinets instead of just the coffee pot like the last time I used a more complicated spell.
“Top cabinet, on your right,” a soft, husky voice says from the doorway.
I gasp and whirl around, finding Gideon leaning against the doorframe in sweatpants that hug his hips in a way that makes my wolf whimper inside. His hair is wet, as if he just showered, the dark waves pushed back from his face. The tanned skin of his bare arms and chest look so soft that I ache to run my fingers across them.
He chuckles, a smirk stretching across his mouth, as he catches my gaze.
Blushing fiercely, I turn back around. I start to reach for the cabinet he mentioned, but stop, realizing the t-shirt rides up to my waist when I reach for the top shelf. “Um…”
“I’ll grab them.” He comes into the kitchen, stepping behind me and pressing his body against my back, my stomach against the cold counter as his arm raises above my head to grab two mugs. “Here,” he says into my ear, the vibration of his voice rumbling against me. He sets the mugs on the counter in front of me, his fingers grazing my wrist and traveling up to my elbow.
My breath hitches, and my heart plummets when he steps away, feeling the loss of the warmth of his body as he sits on a stool at the island. I glance over my shoulder and find him watching me, his gaze both hungry and… happy? My mind is spinning at the back and forth of his moods.
“Cream is in the fridge, and sugar is on the counter there,” he says, motioning to the white ceramic jar in front of me.
I make my own coffee how I like it—medium brown and sweet—then turn and raise my brows at him with the second mug.
“Black.”
I scrunch up my face. “Black?”
He chuckles as I set the full steaming cup before him. “I like my coffee strong and not diluted, just how I like… other things.”
I break my gaze from his, trying to ignore the warmth that floods through me at his words as I move around the island to sit on the other stool beside him. I tug down the shirt to cover my thighs. “I didn’t realize you were home.”
He shrugs, lifting the mug to his lips and taking a sip. “I wasn’t. I only just got back.”
“But your hair is wet,” I say, shooting him a look.
The corner of his mouth lifts again, his eyes finding mine. “Ever observant, little witch.”
I scowl at him, choosing not to press the conversation further despite the desire to hear his voice.
