Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2)

With the beast in charge again, it seemed inevitable that he’d end up at Shea’s doorstep.

He didn’t fight it. After a sleepless night following the shock of finding that dead human girl so close to his territory, Colt had decided that his brother was right for once. He needed to see Shea and make sure she was okay. He couldn’t actually protect her—he gave up that right when he refused to acknowledge their mating—but he could at least prove to his wolf that she was safe and sound.

The man needed to know, too.

It was like a compulsion. He’d thought he worked through the worst of it by now. Between her shields and his stubborn nature, he could usually ignore the bond connecting the two of them. Usually, but not always. And then he’d had the scare of his life when he saw that girl and for a second he thought it might be Shea and…

Yeah.

So now he was here and, Alpha, was he beginning to regret it.

Once the witch got over her surprise at his sudden appearance, Shea had slammed her shields into place. She was locked up tighter than a cell over at the Cage. He didn’t blame her, either. Five months ago, he’d made up his mind that this—the two of them—was never going to be a thing. She’d agreed. Of course she had. It wasn’t like she honestly wanted to be his mate. This was just fate and unlucky circumstances at play.

Still. Tell that to his libido.

She didn’t greet him. It was obvious that he

wasn’t welcome in her territory. Too bad that Colt was a born alpha shifter who spent his entire life as part of a pack. Gauging dominance, establishing hierarchy, respecting strength… it came as easily to him as healing came to this witch.

Plus, his wolf was more powerful than her witchcraft. They both knew it. So while Shea wanted him gone, she didn’t try to kick him out.

Instead, she kept on staring until Colt’s hackles—among other parts of his out-of-control body—started to rise.

“What?” he said gruffly.

“Passion flower.”

What?

Colt blinked. “What did you just call me?”

“Or rhodiola,” the witch mused. “I think either one of those would be good for you. Hang on. Can you take herbs?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yeah. Well, I’m more concerned about your wolf. Most of my customers are human, some witches, too, but I’m not sure about you shifters. Do you think it would help?”

Wait a minute… was she trying to sell him some of her worthless natural medicines?

“You’re kidding, right?” Colt snorted. “Come on. Humans? Sure. I can see them falling for that vitamin/herbal remedy bullshit racket. They don’t know that it’s just fancy grass in a capsule. And witches… well, I don’t know why witches do anything they do, but I don’t think your pills’ll do shit for me.”

Then again, if she thought it might… he jerked his chin over at her.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll bite. What do you think they’ll do for me anyway?”

She uncrossed her arms, placed a hand on each hip. “I thought they might help with your anger management and your stress issues.” Then, under her breath, she added, “Too bad it won’t do anything for your dickish personality. If there was a supplement for that, I’d make a killing.”

Any good feeling he had just being in her presence disappeared in a heartbeat.

“Oh? I’m a dick because I don’t think the grass you sell here works miracles?”

“No,” she said honestly. “You’re a dick because you’re judgmental and you think anything to do with my kind of Para is a waste of time.”

Colt growled deep in his throat, one part pissed, the other part embarrassed that his… well, his almost-mate had pegged him so perfectly.

“Am I wrong?” she dared him when he didn’t argue back.

As her witch’s eyes seemed to darken, the vivid purple turning plum-colored, the hairs on Colt’s arms stood on end. The air crackled with barely repressed magic—and that wasn’t all. Breathing deep, he caught a whiff of something dark, something syrupy.