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“It’s more of a domestic dispute than anything else. The Alpha’s son, Phoenix, fancies himself in love with a Romani girl. Daddy swears he must be bewitched.”

I frown. It’s a grave accusation. Controlling someone with magic is expressly forbidden on this scale. The punishment would be severe if they were caught. “How old is he?”

“Twenty.”

“The stupid age. I’m not judging, mind you. I’m speaking from experience. The only thing running that boy is his hormones.”

“Exactly.” Her lips flatten as she purses them, and she shakes her head.

It’s no secret the two species can’t stand one another.

“I don’t know why the Wolves get so butthurt about Romani. It’s not their fault they can speak to the wolves inside them,” Sacha says.

“No, but they’ve been enemies for so long I’m sure it’s hard to see them as anything else. Their lore is linked for a reason.”

She briefly glances at me before returning her gaze to the long stretch of road before us. “You think it’s true then? That they actually cursed the wolves into creation?”

“I don’t know about that. I think the details are muddled. But there’s a reason why the wolves are the only one of their kind so intimately bound to the moon, and able to control their inner animal. There’s something more human about them than any other shifter I’ve ever come across. It’s why they govern the rest of the shifters. The push-and-pull with the Romani is also mutual. Perhaps, one day we’ll come to understand why.”

“When did you become so philosophical?” Sacha asks.

I huff. “I did a lot of thinking when I was gone.” And studied every magical text, ancient book, and myth I could get my hands on. I wanted to understand what happened between Cristobal and I. What I quickly came to realize was that vampires are closed-lipped bastards, who like to perpetuate false information to lead people astray. They’re the masters of subterfuge and aversion.

When cross the border into Lunar Falls, the subtle shift in energies washes over us. The hairs on the back of my neck threaten to stand on end as my senses go on high-alert. My instincts recognize the sensation of being near predators. Even now, they’re among the trees watching and communicating in that silent, telepathic manner that allows them to act as a pack.

It’s beautiful on this strip of land. Trees reach to the heavens and on, then to one another, bending to connect their branches. The earthy smell of damp soil, moss, and pine drift in through the vents. After a time, the mansion appears in the distance—the two-story renovated plantation with its traditional columns and massive stone porch. The black shutters stand out against the crisp white paint.

The bright fuchsia-colored flower bushes add a splash of color to the landscape. Rocking chairs line the porch. The blankets draped over the back of the chairs make me smile. As big, loud, and masculine as wolves are, they always see to the happiness of their other halves. It’s evident in the feminine touches that the Alpha, Flint, is no different.

“Before we walk up there, I want to make sure I have this right. We’re here to check for spells, and mind tampering, which we know we won’t find because no Romani in their right mind would match their child with the Alpha’s son.”

“Mostly.”

“Why couldn’t you tell him this on the phone?”

“You want me to pay half the bills, right?”

“Sach.”

She laughs. “I told him all this, believe me. He insisted I come in and check in person, and strengthen the wards to keep out undesirables.”

“For the house? I’m pretty sure he’d know if the boy was sneaking someone in and out with his keen senses.”

“Not exactly.”

I turn to face her. “What?”

“He wants them for the property.”

My jaw drops. The home sits on close to thirty-five acres easily.

“How exactly were you planning on casting this spell solo?”

“Very carefully?”

I growl. “You pull a stunt like this again, and I’ll kick your ass myself.”

“I wouldn’t risk overloading my system. I knew you were back when I took the job. I’m poor and eager to make a buck, not suicidal. If I tried to cast a spell of this magnitude over this plot of land solo I’d drop dead from the strain. Split between the two of us, we’ll be fine.”


Tags: Shyla Colt Witch For Hire Paranormal