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I turned my head at the sound of the voice whispering to me, my eyes landing on my tarot deck beside my bed. They were hand-painted. My grandmother had created them before gifting me the deck when my specialty became apparent. They were my prized possession and the greatest tool of my craft.
Let us help you.
I smiled, hoping they would tell me my plan would be just crazy enough to work. Quickly, I shuffled the deck before drawing three cards and placing them on the bed before me. The four wands, the moon, and the hierophant stared back at me. My eyes narrowed at the moon, the sign of hidden enemies, no doubt pointing towards my supposed mate—the psychopath from the park. The four wands was a sign of good results coming with the choice I had made, paired with the hierophant for alliance. I was convinced my plan would work.
Collecting my cards, I dressed quickly and rushed downstairs to the kitchen. Anthony stood by the stove eating an apple as he talked Mom’s ear off about his latest adventures. However, everything faded as my eyes landed on Nyte. I could feel the same familiar butterflies in my stomach that I had always felt around him since Anthony first brought him home. His grey eyes met mine, and his lips with the perfect cupid’s bow lifted in a smirk.
It took me a minute to collect and remind myself what I needed to do. Walking up to the table, I leaned forward and looked at Nyte, his eyebrow lifting in interest.
“Can I have a word with you, in private?” I asked, nodding toward the front porch.
“What do you need to talk to him about?” Anthony asked, suddenly losing interest in bragging to Mom.
“What part of a private word, don’t you understand?” I asked back, resting my hands on my hips.
“Yeah,” Nyte spoke up between us. “You can talk to me.” He brushed his hands through his chestnut-colored hair, smirking as he caught me watching how his bicep popped out.
We went out to the porch, closing the door behind us so Mom and Anthony wouldn’t hear our conversation. The last thing I needed was for one of them to jump in with their opinions.
“So,” Nyte asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the column. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I want you to pretend to be my fiancé,” I blurted out before I lost my confidence in this plan. “Only until I can find a way to sever the ties of the fated mate bond.”
Nyte’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, his eyes widening like saucers.
“You want to sever a mate bond?”
“Yes, mine. It’s a long story, but I had a premonition about my mate, I’m pretty sure that it’s this creep who was chasing me through the park last night, and I can’t do it. I know that people like to think that the mate bond is never wrong, but this time, it is.”
Nyte’s eyes darkened, his brows dropping back from his hairline and creasing.
“Someone was chasing you last night?” he growled, the sound sending shivers through my chest into my stomach.
“Yes,” I answered, watching his jaw tick with anger. “But I lost him. I covered my scent, but he will find me if he is truly my mate. That’s how it works, right? But he can’t have me if I’m already someone else’s mate.”
Nyte looked over my head; his gaze locked into the distance as he stood in front of me in thought. Just when I thought he was going to tell me“No,”doubting my plan, his eyes fell back to me.
“I’ll do it,” he said, “under one condition.”
“Yes! Anything! Whatever it is, I’ll do it.” I said without thinking.
“If we’re going to do this, we will do it right. Which means you are going to come live with me at the packhouse.”
It was my turn to lose my eyebrows in my hairline. I stepped back, grabbing the porch's handrail as my thighs hit a baluster. I hadn’t expected that to be his condition. But to say I was entirely opposed to it would be a lie. It would be nice to get out from under my parent's roof, even if it was only temporary; it would give me more time to sever the bond.
I looked back up at Nyte, my head bobbing in a quick nod. “Deal,” I said, holding my hand out to him.
Chapter two
Nyte
“Deal,” I answered, accepting her hand and giving it a firm shake. I smiled at how her body tilted forward, then fell back at my acceptance of her deal. I was careful not to laugh as she tried to play off her momentary lapse in balance, clearing her throat and smiling up at me as if she had won the lottery.
I don’t blame her for being surprised by how easily I had agreed to her proposal. Werewolves and witches didn’t usually get along. One myth believes that all werewolves came from a curse. It is a curse that is still around even today, although its last known use was centuries ago. In fact, the last family known to suffer the curse had only broken it a couple of decades ago with the birth of a daughter between the descendants of the witch who cast the spell and the wolf it was placed on.
Some hated the witches believing they had punished some ancestor over a thousand years ago. Others hated them because they felt the rumor gave the witches too much power over werewolves and the belief that we are better than witches who, aside from their magic, were just humans compared to us.
Not every werewolf is cursed. Some, like my current pack’s alpha, are bitten, while others, like me, are born werewolves. It doesn’t make a difference in the pack's hierarchy which way one becomes a werewolf. A human bitten can still come out as a powerful alpha and a born werewolf can be the weakest member of the pack.
