“I’m your mate. I see you as you are, witch.”
“My name is Liz. Stop calling me witch.”
He felt a smile twitch at his mouth. He’d gotten the name. Already, he’d made progress. If only it would be as easy to get her to save his pack.
Chapter Two
Elizabeth Willow wondered if she had been dropped on her head. The concussion could at least explain all of the odd things happening. Her day had started out like any other one. She’d endured her servitude to the hell-twins, making sure they ate all their favorite foods before she cleaned up the mess they’d made in their hotel rooms.
Finally, when they’d had their fill of Virginia Beach, she’d put them in the car, seen to it they had their favorite movies available to watch on DVD, and driven them to New York City. They wanted to see The Lion King on Broadway. Again. Because a thirty-year-old couldn’t see it too many times, could they?
Now there was this big mess with Rex Kane—not just any wolf but Prince of the Royal Westervelt Wolf Pack—the most famous witch-killing wolves on the planet. She shivered at the thought even as watching Rex’s strong profile gave her goosebumps for very different reasons.
“Look, Rex, this whole mating thing…”
He interrupted her. “What about it?” Goddess, he was so prickly. She hadn’t said anything and already he jumped down her throat.
“I don’t think your being able to see me un-cursed is a reason to feel I’m your mate. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad you can.” So glad she might start bawling at any moment, but he didn’t need to know. “I just think you’d be better off with someone else.” Rex nodded. “I agree.”
He did? Elizabeth’s treacherous heart fell into her stomach. What was the matter with her? She didn’t want this wolf.
“But I don’t exactly get a say, so we’ll both just go with it, shall we?” She sat up straighter. “What?”
“I don’t decide who my mate is. Fate decided and my wolf informed me it was you.
So we’re both going to have to decide why fate thought it was amusing to put us together.”
“Let me get this straight.” She placed her bound hands on his arm, needing to know she had his full attention. The muscles beneath her fingertips were hard and well defined.
As fast as she could manage, she let go. “You don’t want to be mated to me?”
“It’s not a question of want. Did I desire a mate? Yes, of course. Would I have preferred you not to be a witch? Absolutely.”
“Well, I’m so sorry to disappoint.” Asshole.
She shifted in her seat again. This van was horribly uncomfortable. She’d spent nights inside of small hotel room closets more comfortable than this hellish vehicle. What was the matter with her? What did she care? He was nothing to her. Less than nothing.
He was a creature to be deplored, to be destroyed if she could manage it, which, of course, she could not.
Rex would probably be thrilled to hear the witch he’d been saddled with had little to no power of her own. The freezing spell she’d used on the bitch-twins in the restaurant was about the extent of her abilities these days.
A thought dawned on her. “What do you mean your wolf told you? You’re the wolf.” Rex’s jaw ticked. “It’s complicated.”
She bet it was. Narrowing her eyes, it occurred to her this might be the best thing to have happened to her in a while. Drea Dubrese’s coven would love any information she could bring them. Enough intel and she might be able to negotiate the release of her mother and return to her normal appearance. All she had to do was to get this frustrating, gorgeous wolf to tell her the things she needed to know, and then figure out how to get the heck away from him in one piece. “How complicated?” He scratched his head. “We never talk about it to outsiders. Hell, we barely discuss it amongst ourselves.”
“Am I an outsider? Or am I the woman you want to mate?” She realized how manipulative she was being. Never having done this before, she hoped she didn’t overplay her hand with him. For years, everyone around her had been using this trick to get her to do what they wanted. Surely, she must have some ability to do it on her own.
“We’re both man and wolf. One of the reasons for not discussing it is people don’t get it, no matter how much we explain.”
“I’m not just people. As you keep pointing out, I’m a witch. I’m sure I can handle whatever mystics are going on here.” She hoped. Considering she could be walking into a giant disaster…
“When we’re born…”