Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2)

It worried her when Hudson took off after the medical staff released him, but she had faith that her brother wasn’t that much of a fool. He swore he was done with Julian and the rest of the Bloodlust crew, and she wanted to believe him, so when Colton offered to chase him down, she let Hudson go.

Her shields were still in a rebuilding phase. Her energy, her power, and her own depleted life force were slowly coming back. The last time she nearly killed herself healing someone else—okay, Hudson—it had taken weeks for Shea to be at full strength again.

Between the attentive hospital staff and Colt’s constant presence at her bedside, she was feeling more like herself after a couple of days. She let her consciousness slip under, helping her own exhausted body heal as she slept it off. No matter what, though, every time she came to Colton was sitting close by.

She lost track of hours. Days. Sometimes it was dark when she surfaced only to fall back under. Sometimes it was so bright, she had to screw her eyes shut to keep from being blinded by the daylight.

And, once, she woke up to find that Colton was on the phone.

He’d put the television on. Some Para action movie featuring a tiger shifter facing off against three or four armed humans. Definitely not a fair fight, and when the sequence started, it was a flurry of claws and fangs. A couple of seconds later, the shifter was the last one standing.

At first, Shea thought that the movie was what had woken her up. Nope. Colton had purposely kept the volume turned down so that he could hear it without bothering her; it was barely a hum in her consciousness.

That’s when she heard Colt’s murmurs as he spoke on the phone.

“...you need me to take a trip over, I might be able to fit it in. I’m sorry that I won’t be able to be there on Christmas, but I could probably spare a night before then.”

That’s right. Christmas wasn’t too far away. She hadn’t had much hope when it came to celebrating the holiday—as a witch, it was more a time for friends and family instead of being a religious holiday anyway—since her grandmother was still stationed in Europe and Hudson was, well, Hudson. Especially after Thanksgiving had been such a bust.

She gave a little smile. Maybe she’d spend Christmas with Colt. With—and Shea had to smother her giggle before it gave her away—her mate.

It had to be Maddox on the line. Though she couldn’t make out his exact words from her end, the booming voice coming through could only belong to Colt’s older brother.

When he finished speaking, Colton straightened from his casual lean in the visitor’s chair. His back was to Shea so she couldn’t see his face as he retorted, “Don’t have a witch. But, okay. I’ll see if Shea wants to come.”

Don’t have a witch…

Her heart sank.

She tried to find the bright side. It sounded like he was already making plans with her. But then why did he have to say that?

Don’t have a witch…

Colton told her he wanted Shea to be his mate. How? How, when it seemed like he couldn’t get past his biggest stumbling block? He might wish it was otherwise. Tough luck. Shea was a witch.

So what did that mean?

Don’t have a witch…

She didn’t know. And, when Colton suddenly ended the call before turning to her with a question in his voice as he whispered her name, she clamped her eyes shut and pretended to be sleeping so that she could avoid finding out the answer to that.

So it was the coward’s way out. She didn’t care.

For a little while longer, she wanted to believe that he really could be hers.

23

Colt insisted on bringing Shea home with him as soon as she was released from the hospital a few days later.

It took some convincing. He’d hoped that Shea would actually want to spend time with him now that they’d both agreed to give their mating a shot. That wasn’t the issue, though. She’d been out of work for more than a week and she was itching to go back and check on her shop.

During her recuperation, Colt got in touch with Ralph and Sloane again, arranging for them to repair the front door for her and clean up the last of Hudson’s spilled blood. He tried to tell her that the apothecary could wait a little bit longer, that Julian would know how to find her at her place.

Colt got through to her with that last part. Shea decided that, so long as she could go back long enough to grab her phone, pack an overnight bag stuffed to the gills with he didn’t know what, and place a closed until further notice, sorry for the inconvenience notice on the brand new door, she would go to the Bumptown with Colt.

Though his wolf howled liked its paw was caught in a trap, Colt gave Shea his bedroom while he bunked out in the guest room.

They were taking things slow. She was still recovering, and her missing brother weighed on her. Colt could tell. Now that they were being open with each other, he would suddenly have this feeling of melancholy, this feeling of concern, and he knew it was coming from her.