Though, it did hurt his pride a little when, after Colt explained how this was a mistake, that he’d been nastier than necessary, but he didn’t want to mate anyone, Shea had agreed.
She didn’t want to mate a stranger, either, she said. And, so long as Colt stopped scowling whenever she mentioned magic, she’d work pro bono to snap their bond. Since the alternative was either go through the bonding—full works, too: mating, claiming, biting—then get a notarized bonding license before heading to the D.P.R. to get the whole thing erased, he was willing to do what she said to get what he wanted.
Otherwise, according to the bylaws in the Claws Clause, the only way to truly break a bond was through death.
Luciana la Sorcière, the head witch of Coventry, insisted that no witch could snap a bond on their own. When it came to the Cage, it took a small coven of government-employed witches to dissolve the half of the bond remaining in the surviving shifter. That was all.
Even Cilla, using countless diamonds to practice forbidden magic, hadn’t been able to fully sever Maddox and Evangeline’s connection. A jagged edge lingered in both of them, making Maddox miserable, and leaving Evangeline with haunting dreams while Cilla’s spell blocked her memories.
Shea was determined, though. She wasn’t going to willingly tie herself to “a grumpy and disinterested shifter”. She would find a way to separate them. She promised him.
Only now it was five months later, Shea was no closer to disc
overing how to do just that, Colt was seriously having second-thoughts, unknown Nightwalkers were on the hunt, and, worst of all, the one woman he was fated to love absolutely wanted nothing to do with him.
So of course Colt was torturing himself by finding any excuse to see her. Because he was a glutton for punishment.
Music suddenly blared on, covering up the awkward quiet between the two of them. It wasn’t so loud, almost tinny, and Colt cocked his ears as the song played.
There.
It was coming from the phone lying face-down on the strange black countertop.
“What’s that playing?” he asked, grateful to have something else to focus on. “An old song, yeah? I think I’ve heard it before.”
“1980’s. Phil Collins. He’s an old-time human singer that I like. I set this song up as a personal ringtone. It’s appropriate, trust me.”
When she made no move to reach for the phone, he nodded at it. “Shouldn’t you answer that?”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I know who it is.”
Shea might.
Colt didn’t—and Alpha help him, he wanted to.
4
Hudson was calling.
Hudson. Her brother, and the bane of her existence.
Shea shook her head. No. While that was a little bit true, it wasn’t very kind. Hudson didn’t mean to be such a screw-up. Deep down, she knew he cared about her. Knew he loved her. He just had piss-poor impulse control.
He always had. Even though Hudson was four years older than Shea, twenty-nine to her twenty-five, he’d been getting into trouble his whole life—leaving his younger sister to clean up after it. Which she did, no matter what, because that was just who she was.
Hudson was forever saying yes. She wished she knew how to say no.
The gorgeous shifter glaring daggers at her cell phone was a prime example of that. Goddess, her life would be so much easier if she could find a way to tell him no.
No, she didn’t want to help him break their bond.
No, she didn’t think that this was a big mistake.
No, she didn’t want to walk away from him…
But Colton had asked her to leave him alone and, well, Shea never said no.
She shot a look toward the back of her phone. It was a newer model, one that came with all the standard Para extras: privacy wards, increased volume control, Para-proof shock blockers for energy-based paranormals. Othersiders tended to short out their electronics without one and, though Shea’s magic wasn’t so powerful as to need it, the human sales associate threw it in for some strange reason. He’d even added a free protective case that he picked out just for her.