Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2)

“A life for a life,” hissed Rafe, blood dripping down his chin as he looked dead at Shea.

He threw Wright’s mangled body at her feet.

The cop landed with a thump, spraying blood and Alpha knew what else up at his mate.

Colt was already on the move.

From the second he saw Rafe’s deranged eyes lock on Shea, he was already on the move. Wright hadn’t even settled on the ground before Colt looped his arm around her waist, lifting her from the floor as he put distance between Shea and this latest threat.

He’d killed Julian. Forget letting him leave the building. For that, Rafe deserved the same fate.

Taking down the Nightwalker’s number two would be child’s play for his wolf.

He never got the chance, though. Rafe lorded over the scene he had left before turning around and disappearing through the same door. Colt knew then that he couldn’t dare chase after the vampire with his mate in tow. What if he tried using his fangs on his witch next?

Colt turned for the other door.

“What are you doing? He’s going to die!” She slapped Colt’s chest, kicking her legs frantically as she tried to break out of his arms. “Let me down!”

“I’m getting you out of here.”

Shea twisted. Colt didn’t want to squeeze her. He didn’t want to hurt her, either. So, when she bucked against him, he let her down, though he didn’t let go of her hand.

He knew what she was trying to do. If he could prevent her from having to deal with Wright’s brutal murder, he would. “I can’t let you go over there.”

“No. You don’t understand. I have to save him!”

“Shea, I think it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late.” She looked up at Colt. Her purple eyes burned with a need to do something. “I have to help him. I can save him. I know I can.”

The denial began to claw its way up his throat. He was there when she nearly killed herself trying to heal her fucking reject of a brother and, shit, Colt was still scarred by the way his heart nearly stopped when Shea collapsed. It wasn’t that long ago, and she was still adjusting to his bite and their bond.

Their bond—

Colt clamped his jaw shut, his mind spinning, his thoughts racing.

The night she took him as her mate, Shea asked him if he could ever accept her for what she was. At the time, Colt thought she meant could he ever accept that she was a witch. It was his biggest stumbling block and, seconds before he entered her sweet body that first time, he vowed he would.

She hadn’t believed him. Of course she hadn’t. Despite what they were to each other, Colt hadn’t given her any reason to trust his word.

Instead, he promised he’d try. Lucky for him, that had been good enough for Shea.

Know what? It was time Colt proved it. Because, staring down at his determined mate, his fangs slicing through his lips and Adam Wright died in front of him, Colt realized something. Shea was a witch—but that wasn’t how she thought of herself.

She was a healer, damn it. And he’d be the worst fucking mate ever if he didn’t accept that, or accept what she was born to do.

Fate knew that. Fate knew what was up. It gave Colt Shea, a healer who managed to fix something broken inside of him. And it gave Shea Colt, an alpha wolf shifter who had a shit ton of pent-up aggression, a stubborn streak a mile wide that only matched his protective nature, who never took no for an answer. It gave her someone who needed her.

And fate gave them a bond. It was unbreakable now—had been unbreakable all along—and, as they both discovered after his fight with Priscilla Winters, it went both ways even before it was snapped into place.

Her healing energy had its limits. But what if she combined that with his shifter strength and the regenerative properties inherent to his kind?

Only one way to find out.

Besides, Wright was kind of growing on him. A bit like mold, but the guy was brave for an Ant. For going up against Julian like that? He deserved a second chance.

“Help him,” he said gruffly. “But let me help you.”