Fated Magic (Claimed by Wolves 1)

“No one is lying,” Ridge says through gritted teeth. “Despite our somewhat colorful pasts, I know neither of these men are liars. And I’m certainly not either.”

The man named Trystan huffs but gives a sharp nod. “I’m not accusing anyone of lying. Although those two could be mistaken,” he adds pointedly, jerking his chin toward Ridge and the blond man.

There’s another small burst of muttering among the crowd, but the elder holds up his hand again, effectively silencing them all. He crosses his arms over his flannel shirt and levels his calculating gaze on Ridge.

“You are sure your wolf has claimed this woman?”

Ridge looks at me, his gaze fierce and protective. It’s like his amber eyes are made of fire, sparks dancing in their depths. “As sure as I am of my own name.”

Warmth blooms inside me as his words settle over me, and against my better judgment, I take a single step toward him. When he sees me move his way, his face softens, shifting his expression back to the man who held me beneath the shower last night as I pieced my mind back together.

“Trystan?” the elder says, turning to the blue-eyed man.

The shifter with chocolate brown hair and confident demeanor nods. “She is mine.”

Mine…

Even as I’m straining to fight the urge to reach Ridge, I sway toward this other man, this Trystan. I’m floored by the sudden and immediate response in my body at the sound of his voice.

Ridge growls under his breath, and there’s an echoing growl from the golden-haired man behind me.

Oh, fuck. If all three of them are so certain their wolves have claimed me, are they going to have to do something crazy like fight over me? Just the idea sends terror piercing through my heart. I reevaluate the open door, my gaze darting in that direction as I try to decide whether or not I should run.

The elder gives both men a stern glare, but then nods at the blond man and asks, “Archer? Are you positive?”

“Yes, Elder. My wolf is certain this woman is mine.”

Mine…

As if in a daze, I swivel on my heel to look at Archer, drawn to meet his eyes. While Ridge and Trystan are both darkly handsome in their own separate ways, Archer is a boy-next-door type, with shimmering blond hair and moss-green eyes. When our gazes meet, he gives me a soft smile that sends a little thrill through me, and I whip around, latching back on to Ridge’s gaze as if I’ve done something wrong.

Through the niggle of panic that’s still trying to burst free, I recognize that I’m reacting unconsciously to each man. None of them are willing to back down. They’re all certain I’m their “mate,” whatever that means. And weirdly enough, I’m drawn to all three of them too.

I can’t even pretend to know what’s going on here. Obviously, I know the textbook definition of a mate, and I know that for most animals, basic biology drives them to find a good match and propagate their species. I was kept away from the world, but not kept from books. Uncle Clint taught me to read before his treatment of me devolved into nothing but cruelty and neglect, and books became my lifeline in the midst of despair. I even watched some movies on the old TV he kept in the basement until it broke, so I’m not totally ignorant of the world.

But what does it mean for a shifter to mate?

I refuse to let myself explore that thought too deeply. So much has been thrown at me in the past two days that I’m confused and in borderline panic mode as it is. The last thing I need to do is add strong emotions to this circus.

The elder catches Ridge’s eye, drawing his attention away from me. “I think, Alpha, that in light of recent events, it would be best for us to postpone the rest of this meeting. Do you agree?”

Ridge shakes his head as if to clear it. As if he’s reminding himself who he is and where he is. He looks a little dazed, and I’m comforted a bit by the thought that I’m not the only one who’s been thrown by this new development.

“Yes.” The rugged man makes a circle where he stands, addressing the crowd. “You are all dismissed. Keep lines of communication open and stay vigilant against the witch threat. We will reconvene this summit soon.”

Though there’s a general air of agreement among the few dozen gathered shifters, I can tell many people aren’t amused by the turn. Lawson in particular stands beside me looking as if he’s about to make the terrifying transformation into a wolf so he can go for someone’s jugular.

“So we’re going to ignore the fact that Ridge brought a stranger into our midst?” he snaps at the elder.

The elder looks down his patrician nose at Lawson. “Calm down, cub. This is none of your concern. The mate bond is a sacred thing, and if that is truly what this is, it overrides our other laws and customs. Even the treaty.”

“And the next time you burst into a council meeting where you are not invited, brother, I won’t be lenient.”

Ridge’s words are full of so much controlled fury and power that nearly every shifter in the building backs up a half-step, as if Ridge is the epicenter of a bomb and they’ve all been hit by the blast.

Lawson growls, but he stalks away without a backward glance, shoving past the people gathered near the door before disappearing from the barn. Only after he’s gone do I realize how much his chaotic, aggressive presence was affecting me. My knees go a little weak as a rush of relief floods my body.

I barely move, but Ridge notices the change in me anyway. His gaze snaps back to mine, and he strides toward me, one strong hand wrapping around my good elbow.