Chapter 10 – REGINA
Chapter
Ten
REGINA
T his can't be happening.
Not wolves. Anything but fucking wolves.
And they’re himbo jock wolves, as if the universe isn’t fucking with me enough.
My fingers twitch toward my face, toward the glamour that hides the permanent, hideous reminder of what beasts like these are capable of. The skin beneath feels hot, pulsing with a phantom pain that never truly disappears.
"You feel it too," Killian says, those ice-blue eyes devouring me. "You know it's true."
Do I feel it?
Yes.
That inexplicable pull toward their scents despite every logical instinct screaming danger. But that doesn't mean I have to accept it. The universe has a sick sense of humor. Just because it thinks this is funny doesn't mean I have to play along.
"This is absolute bullshit," Kyle snarls, bringing me back to the present horror show unfolding on the mansion's front lawn. His face flushes crimson as he gestures wildly toward the wolves. "They're fucking lying! They can't just claim someone's Bonded witch. It's against supernatural law!"
Killian turns on Kyle with a feral grin that sends ice down my spine. "Who are you calling a liar, piss pants?"
Kyle blanches, his gaze darting briefly down to the dark stain on his designer slacks. Humiliation flashes across his face before hardening into rage. I might have enjoyed this moment under different circumstances.
The stranger observes this exchange with the weary resignation of someone who's reached the outer limits of their patience. He turns toward the dark-haired man who had been the silver wolf. "Is that true, Mr. Miftah? Is this woman your mate?"
The shifter nods. "Yes, Professor Villeneuve." His voice carries a slight accent, rich and melodic. "Micah's sister did a spell to find our Bonded, and then she showed up. Tonight."
My head snaps up. "What? A spell?"
"A spell?" Villeneuve echoes in disbelief, eyes narrowing. "Of course there was a spell. There's always a spell."
The russet-furred wolf suddenly shimmers, bones cracking and reshaping until a lean man with tousled brown hair stands where the animal had been. Despite my terror and hatred of shifters, I can't help but notice these ones are ridiculously, unfairly attractive.
And hung.
Can't help noticing that, either, no matter how much my brain is trying to keep my eyes from drifting lower than their muscled torsos. This one's transformation leaves him grinning broadly.
"Yeah! And it worked!" he says, practically vibrating with excitement. "The dean's office was breathing down our necks about finding our Bonded by the end of the semester, so we called my sister for help, but we didn't think we'd actually find our mate ."
Sister? So this must be Micah.
And he's staring at me with such unadulterated awe that I want to crawl into a hole and disappear.
"Ridiculous," Kyle growls. His lightning-filled hands tighten into fists as he takes another step toward me, piss pants and all. "Regina, enough is enough. You're coming home this instant."
Something snaps inside me. Five years of swallowing my anger, of making myself smaller to avoid his displeasure, of ignoring my instincts. It all boils to the surface like a cauldron left too long on the fire.
" No ."
The word emerges charged with power I didn't know I still possessed. A spark of invisible yet potent energy bursts from my aura, crackling through the air between us. Everyone startles, but no one more than me. I'm supposed to be drained dry. Where did that come from?
"I'm not going back with you," I continue, my voice steadier than I feel. "I'd rather die."
The truth of this statement hits me hard. I really would rather die than return to that cage, that life of service to a man who never valued me beyond my utility. The realization is as terrifying as it is liberating.
Killian steps forward. "I can offer you a better option." His eyes never leave mine as he speaks. "Bond with us. Sever ties with this asshole and you never have to see him again."
I do need a bond, both to survive as a siphon and to break my connection to Kyle. Without a new bond, I'll either waste away magically or remain tethered to the Crescent Hollow Coven forever.
But wolves ?
The very creatures that haunt my nightmares?
The creatures that left me permanently fucking disfigured ?
Kyle's laugh cuts through my thoughts, cold and cruel. "I can put an end to this bullshit right now." His eyes lock with mine, filled with malice. "You want her? Let's see about that."
He raises his hand in a swift, elegant gesture that I recognize too late. Pain explodes behind my eyes as he pulls viciously and mercilessly at the thread connecting us. He's draining me, ripping what little magic remains in my reserves through our coven bond.
I crumple to my knees, a scream tearing from my throat. The glamour spell—the one thing protecting me from the world's stares of disgust and horror—shreds like tissue paper.
Someone gasps. Another curses. The big wolf that was crushing Kyle into the dirt a few minutes ago makes a high, distressed whine.
Horror and humiliation wash over me in crushing waves. I've spent years hiding these scars, and now they're on display for everyone to gawk at. There are too many scars to hide beneath my hands, but it doesn't keep me from trying.
"There's your 'mate' in all her glory, without the glamour," Kyle sneers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking her?—"
The rest of his sentence is lost in a spray of blood and a blur of midnight fur. Killian shifts so fast I barely see the transition before his massive wolf form slams into Kyle. All I register is his jaws separating Kyle's left arm from his body with the ease of popping off a doll's arm.
Blood fountains from the wound, painting the grass crimson. Kyle's scream is inhuman, filled with shock and agony. Killian doesn't stop. His blood-soaked muzzle goes for Kyle's throat, fangs bared for the kill.
" ENOUGH !"
The word reverberates through the clearing like a thunderclap.
Everyone freezes mid-motion—the wolves, Kyle's coven, even the air itself seems to stop moving.
It's the kind of magic witches devote their entire lives to learning and still can't pull off.
I wait for the same paralysis to claim me, but it doesn't come.
I can still move, though my body feels leaden with exhaustion and shock.
Professor Villeneuve calmly walks past me, his movements smooth and unaffected. He has to be the one responsible for the paralysis spell, and yet, he hasn't even broken a sweat.
What is he?
He approaches Killian, leaning down to hiss in the frozen wolf's ear. "You fucking fool . She's a siphon, and she's still bonded to this cretin. If you kill him, do you have any idea what would happen to her?"
Despite whatever magical hold Villeneuve has on them, Killian's muscles strain visibly against the invisible bonds. A low growl rumbles from his chest, and I swear his massive paw shifts slightly. The effort must be monumental, requiring strength beyond anything normal.
The professor turns toward me, and his expression makes my blood run cold. His face remains serene, almost placid, but his eyes... his eyes are burning with something ancient and beyond this realm.
"Who did this to you?"
I shiver at the strange softness in his voice, unable to look away. I'm used to people staring at my scars with horror, sometimes pity. Often disgust. But Villeneuve looks... enraged . Not at me, but the fury rolling off him is intimidating nonetheless.
My body trembles, partly from adrenaline crash, partly from the sudden and complete absence of magic.
Whatever Kyle just did drained me entirely.
I'm empty now, a hollow vessel. But something about Villeneuve's gaze compels honesty.
Maybe it is compulsion magic, or maybe I'm just too weak to resist, but the truth spills from me regardless.
"A wolf," I manage to grit out.
He nods slightly, as if confirming something he already knew. "I see."
Whatever Villeneuve is, he's ancient and impossibly powerful. Nothing I've ever encountered could freeze multiple powerful supernaturals in place with a single word of cold, implacable authority.
He makes a dismissive gesture. Whatever spell held them immobile releases with an almost audible snap. Killian immediately bristles, hackles raised, muzzle still dripping with Kyle's blood. The other wolves form a protective semicircle, watching Villeneuve warily.
Kyle writhes on the ground, screaming and clutching the ragged stump where his arm used to be.
Ryan and Rebecca rush to his side, their faces masks of horror and panic.
Rebecca frantically traces sigils in the air, attempting some kind of healing spell while Ryan tries to stick Kyle's arm back on. Backwards.
Villeneuve turns away from the gruesome scene with chilling indifference. "You have precisely five minutes to leave campus before I have you escorted," he announces, his tone conversational. "There's a hospital about ten minutes away. You'd better get to it."
To my horror, small vines and tendrils of grass are already creeping over Kyle's arm, slowly reclaiming it for the earth. I have a feeling Villeneuve is responsible, though I can't fathom how or why.
Ryan and Rebecca give up on the arm and help Kyle to his feet, his face ashen from blood loss. They look terrified, both of the wolves and of Villeneuve.
I assume Villeneuve's ultimatum applies to me as well.
I need to get the fuck out of here. Maybe with Kyle's arm torn off, I can get a head start on making it to Cadence's place before either group can track me down.
I begin to back away, hoping they'll remain distracted by each other long enough for me to slip away.
"Not you," Villeneuve says without turning around. "Come with me."
I freeze in indecision. The professor radiates danger, but so do the wolves. So does Kyle, even bleeding and one-armed. Not nearly as much as any of these men, but he's still a threat to me in my weakened state.
Killian and Rowan immediately protest. "She's our mate," Killian snarls, having shifted back to human form. There's blood dripping from his mouth. Kyle's blood. "She stays with us."
Villeneuve raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by their display. "Perhaps we should ask Ms. Cook who she would prefer to accompany while we sort out this... situation."
All eyes turn to me, and I've never felt more exposed. The wolves watch with hope plain on their faces despite the scars I know they got a good look at before I covered them with my hand. Evidently, Kyle's plan didn't work. At least not enough for them to decide they don't want me.
They're fucking insane.
"I want to go with him," I mutter, not meeting the wolves' eyes.
The bulky wolf lowers his head with a low, growling whine, ears flat against his skull. Micah's hopeful expression crumples. Rowan's face remains neutral, but his eyes darken with disappointment.
Killian looks the exact right combination of confused and frustrated for a man who's probably never been told no in his life.
For a moment, I almost reconsider. Villeneuve hardly seems benign.
But then I remember what Killian just did to Kyle.
The savage efficiency with which he tore off a man's arm.
The bloodlust burning in his eyes. Whatever pull I feel, however "destined" this cruel joke of a match might be, I cannot— will not—put myself at the mercy of wolves again.
Whatever Villeneuve is, whatever he wants, he's the devil I don't know. And right now, that's preferable to the devils I do.
"Come, then," Villeneuve says, extending an arm I don't take. "Let's leave these gentlemen to clean up."
I follow him across the lawn, feeling four pairs of eyes boring into me. The weight of their collective gaze makes my skin prickle, but I don't look back even as my own energy signature strains for them.
What the everliving fuck .