Taking care of Colt was important. At the same time, his mate needed him, too. So he stayed.
Wright’s betrayal cut her deep. Knowing that she was a mated—and married—woman, he still tried to build a relationship with her. Wright had been a Cage cop. He had known all about Maddox from the beginning.
Evangeline was still coming to grips with her mother’s meddling, too. They’d had a long, tear-filled conversation the night after Cilla snatched Evangeline. Naomi Lewis confessed that she kept the truth about Maddox hidden because she blamed him for the accident that nearly killed Evangeline three years ago. All she had wanted was to protect her daughter.
That was Maddox’s job. And, he vowed, he would spend the rest of his life doing so.
Naomi was forced to accept his place in her daughter’s life; she had no choice, not now that they had both a marriage license and the bonding license. She was his mother-in-law and Maddox forgav
e her because, in the end, Evangeline’s happiness was all that mattered.
Wright could jump off a bridge for all he cared.
As if she could sense that he needed her, Evangeline reached out her hand. He clasped it in a grip like a vice. Pulling her near him, Maddox folded Evangeline in his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head.
Dodge scowled, a spasm of pain dashing across the shadows of his nearly transparent face before he shook his head. His expression closed off suddenly, only to be replaced by a familiar grin. “It ain’t the cop, either,” he told them. “You don’t gotta worry about him coming back. I tracked him down last night and told him if I saw him skulkin’ around the Bumptown again, I’d go haunt him myself.” Dodge shrugged. “Don't think he liked the idea I might see somethin’ I shouldn’t. He’ll stay away.”
Evangeline stiffened. “Oh, Dodge. You didn't.”
“Don't you feel sorry for him, Angie,” Maddox said. He lowered his head and pressed his nose against the crook of her neck and shoulder, nuzzling his bite. “He went after a mated woman. You’re mine. Far as I’m concerned, bastard deserves worse than Dodge getting an eyeful of his dick.”
Evangeline slapped lazily at Maddox. “Your brother has company. Stop that. Leave me alone.”
“Never,” he swore, even as he straightened. He turned his flashing gaze on the ghost. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“It’s not pack. Not the witch. Wright would have to be a fucking moron to come back. Who’s out there?”
Dodge thought about it for a second. His lips quirked slightly, his sudden grin devilish. “I think it might be best if I let her tell you herself.”
Then, before Maddox could argue, he floated back through the closed door and winked out of sight. Considering his grin slid off of his hazy face a split second before he did, Maddox decided Dodge wanted to escape the happily mated couple more than anything else.
He nearly followed Dodge out of the room; only his protective instincts held him back. He didn’t want to leave his mate or his softly snoring brother unprotected. And while he could bring Evangeline with him, Colt was passed out on the bed. He wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.
Instead, he let go of his mate, stroking her back gently before resuming his agitated pacing from one side of the master bedroom to the next. Every time he passed her, Evangeline murmured soothing words under her breath, keeping him sane and his wolf calm.
Maddox caught the scent an instant before he sensed a stranger approaching. The thud of a nervous heartbeat echoed in time to a pair of heeled shoes tapping gently up the stairs. He smelled soap, a twinge of sweat, and a faint wood-burning aroma. It wasn’t acrid, so it wasn’t fear, and he recognized it as determination.
Determination and something else.
There was something off about the scent, though. It was faint, sure, but fainter than it should’ve been; it didn’t get any stronger, not even when he could sense the stranger standing outside of the closed bedroom door. It was definitely muted, almost like it was close to missing the way that Evangeline’s had been while she wore that damned and enchanted perfume.
Maddox had a few seconds to put two and two together before the soft knock echoed around him. Sometimes you got four. And sometimes you got—
“It’s open. Come in.”
—a witch.
It wasn’t just that the woman who moved slowly into the room was cloaked in magic. She was magic. Maddox didn’t need his wolf’s nose to tell him that. Her vivid purple eyes were more than enough of a clue.
She was probably of average height; compared to Maddox and Evangeline, she was petite. Her skin was a rich olive shade, her witch’s eyes striking against the tone. She had hair that fell past her shoulders, a tumble of loose curls that were so black, they were nearly blue. She kept her head held high as she stopped just inside the door, though she gulped when her gaze fell on Maddox, then Evangeline.
Then, as if she were drawn to him, she turned to look at Colt. In an instant, it was as if no one else was in the room.
Maddox cleared his throat. The rasp caught her attention. With a jerk, she tore her gaze away from Colt. If possible, her purple eyes seemed to glow a little brighter. He didn’t sense her using any magic, but there was no denying what she was.
What was an unknown witch doing at Colt’s house?