Chapter 15 – REGINA #2
“That's... not what I expected,” I admit.
"What did you expect?" Micah asks, genuinely curious.
I fidget with the hem of my blouse. "I don't know. Something more food like, I guess. You’re wolves."
"We're shifters, not monsters," Killian says, his voice surprisingly gentle. "We don't see you as prey, Regina. We see you as our equal. Our complement."
"Yeah, we only want to eat you in the fun way," Sean chimes in, earning another glare from his packmates. "What? I'm just being honest."
A dry laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. They can’t be serious. How could they want that after seeing me without my glamour? Wanting to claim me is one thing, but… that ?
"Tell me about the spell," I say, clearing my throat and changing direction. "Last night, you mentioned something about a witch helping you find your Bonded?"
Micah adjusts his glasses, looking slightly uncomfortable. "My stepsister’s a witch. Not the friendliest witch, especially to wolves, but she agreed to help us find our Bonded because the university deadline was coming up."
"Deadline?" I repeat.
"All supernatural groups on campus have to have a magical counterbalance by the time they graduate," Killian explains. "For stability. We've been searching for two years with no luck."
"Doesn't that still leave you with two years to find one?" I ask warily.
The pack goes silent and I can tell from their awkward expressions there's more to the story.
"They… kind of upped the timeline for us," Rowan says carefully. "There was an incident last semester."
I arch an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
"Just a little tousle with some vampires," Killian continues, flashing me a grin that's clearly meant to be disarming. And it probably would be, if it weren’t for the pointed wolf fangs on either side of it. "No big deal."
"Uh-huh," I say slowly, unable to hide my doubt.
“And then Sadie's spell led us straight to you,” Micah explains. “We didn't expect a mate bond, though. That's different.”
"Different how?" I ask, genuinely curious despite my reservations. I know how mate bonds work in general, but they're rare. Rare enough that some people think they're nothing more than a fairy tale. When it comes to shifters specifically, my knowledge is intentionally vague.
Until last night, I never thought I'd have anything to do with wolves.
"A normal Bonded is a magical practitioner who balances the pack's energy," Rowan explains in his measured way.
Yeah. Definitely the least himbo-coded of the wolves.
"It's a practical arrangement, beneficial to both sides.
A mate bond is... deeper. It's not just about energy exchange. It's about connection. Completion."
"And it's mutual," Killian adds, watching me carefully. “You feel it, too, right? You have to. Maybe even when you were in our house.”
I want to deny it, but what's the point? "Yes," I admit reluctantly. "Your scents... affected me. But that could just be the siphon in me responding to potential energy sources."
"It's more than that," Killian insists gently. "You know it is."
I look away, unwilling to concede the point further. "Let's say, hypothetically , that I believed you. And we're mates. What exactly would you expect from me?"
"Nothing you're not willing to give," Killian says immediately. "We want to help you. You can break your bond with that asshole and his coven. We could give you a safe place. Beyond that, it's up to you."
"We'd never force anything," Micah adds, his voice thick with what appears to be genuine fear I’m going to say no.
"And what would you get out of this arrangement?" I ask skeptically.
Sean opens his mouth, then shuts it. Whatever he was about to say, he seems to think better of it, rubbing the back of his head and looking uncharacteristically serious for once.
“A potential mate, if we’re being honest,” Rowan adds carefully. “If you're ever interested in exploring that possibility. That’s a big if. We know. Especially after everything you've been through.”
I stiffen. "Which part of what I've been through are you referring to?"
Four sets of eyes flick briefly to where my scar lies beneath the glamour, then quickly drop again when I flinch.
“All of it,” Killian says solemnly. “The werewolf attack. That dickhead's coven treating you like a battery instead of a person. Being hunted and on the run.”
“You know about the battery thing,” I say, latching onto the opportunity to change the subject. “How much do you know about siphons?”
"We did some research," Micah says, perking up at the question. "You can't generate your own magic, so you have to draw it from external sources."
"Yeah, like fucking," Sean chimes in.
The rest of the pack glares. Micah turns beet red.
So do I, for that matter.
The worst part is, he's not wrong.
Good gods, I'm discussing this with a pack of literal frat bros. What the hell has my life come to?
"I see you've done your research," I say wryly.
"Yeah," Sean says with all the enthusiasm of a giant dog wagging its tail even in his human form. "Just to be clear, we're DTF any time you want. You need it, you got it."
"I'll keep that in mind," I say, stifling a laugh. The other wolves roll their eyes, but they don't disagree with him. "Nature magic is fine for small stuff, but anything significant requires a stronger source."
"Like a coven," Rowan says, sighing.
"Or a pack," Killian adds, holding my gaze steadily.
The implication hangs between us. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Wolves don't typically bond with witches. There's a reason for that."
“We're not that much more dangerous than vampires,” Rowan reasons.
“Yeah. At least we don’t drink people,” Sean mutters.
"You ripped a man's arm off last night," I point out.
“Killian did,” Sean says without missing a beat, pointing at him.
Killian doesn't flinch. "He was hurting you."
"You don't even know everything that happened," I remind them, still bewildered four complete strangers were willing to jump to my defense so quickly. And I’m sure it’s just because they think I’m their mate, but still. There was zero hesitation.
That’s the only reason I’m even considering this.
Gods … I really am thinking about it.
Fuck, this has to be the exhaustion talking. I'm losing it if I'm actually considering a bond with a pack of wolves. Even if they are absurdly hot wolves.
“We know enough,” Killian says, eyes burning. “We know he used you. We know he hurt you. We know he tore off your glamour to make you feel vulnerable.”
“And what happens if I say no?” I ask, needing to understand all my options even if I know I’m leaning toward yes because I’m insane, apparently.
The wolves all look at each other as if they genuinely hadn't considered that possibility. Then again, I get the feeling not a lot of people tell them no in the first place.
"Then we respect your decision," Killian says, his jaw ticking as he turns back to me. "We'd still offer to help you break your coven bond, no strings attached. And we'd obviously be hoping you reconsider, but… we'd never force you."
The honesty in his expression is almost painful to witness. All four of them wait, tense and hopeful, for my response.
"Oh, right," Killian says suddenly, breaking the silence. "We brought you something."
He nods to Micah, who reaches into a leather messenger bag I hadn't noticed before.
With careful hands, he extracts three ancient-looking leather-bound books, their spines cracked with age and use.
I notice with amusement that someone has tied a lopsided red bow around them, the kind you'd put on a freaking birthday present.
"These are from my great-grandmother's collection," Killian explains as Micah places the wrapped grimoires on the coffee table between us. "Family heirlooms, actually. We thought... well, we know witches usually like books."
I reach out hesitantly, running my fingers over the worn leather covers once I untie the bow. The books practically hum with old magic, sending a pleasant tingle through my fingertips.
"They're grimoires," Rowan explains. "Some of the spells are specifically for energy manipulation. We thought they might help with your situation."
The gesture is unexpectedly thoughtful—and slightly hilarious with the cheerful bow decorating such serious magical texts. A strange, equally unexpected warmth unfurls in my chest at the realization they went to great effort to make their present look nice.
“Thank you,” I tell them, looking up at their expectant and stupidly handsome faces. “That was… sweet.”
Sweet.
I just told a wolf pack they’re sweet.
And I… meant it?
"More books where that came from," Killian says, flashing me a grin that’s all fang. "You're welcome to check out the library in the pack house."
"Gods know no one else is using it," Micah mutters, not quite under his breath.
I take a deep breath, considering my options.
I could stay with Villeneuve, but for how long?
I don’t exactly know him, either, and as kind as he’s been, there’s an edge to him that makes him just as much of a wildcard as the wolf pack.
And eventually, I'll need a permanent solution. I could go to Cadence, and I’m sure that’s what she’ll insist on when I call her tonight, but that means putting her in danger when Kyle inevitably gets his arm fixed and tracks me down.
Or I could try these wolves, wolves of all things, who are offering exactly what I need with surprisingly few strings attached.
I’ve gotten pretty damn good at reading people since being burned in every way possible by Kyle and his coven, and these four men might be wolves, but they’re honest wolves.
Brutally honest wolves with no filters. I don’t think they could lie if their lives depended on it. Sean certainly can’t.
It would be temporary, I tell myself. Just until I break the coven bond. Just until I figure out my next move.
"I have conditions," I say finally.
They all perk up simultaneously like I just held up a fucking steak.
"Anything," Killian promises instantly.
“I’ll come to your house on a trial basis,” I explain. “To see if this could work. No commitment beyond that until I'm ready—and I might never be. If at any point I want to leave, I can. No questions asked, no attempts to stop me. I come and go as I please.”
“Like a cat,” Sean offers, grinning.
“ Exactly like a cat.”
"Agreed," Killian says, speaking for all of them.
"I keep my own room. Private space. With a lock and wards."
"We can do that," Rowan says, nodding.
“I need to focus on breaking the coven bond first,” I say, sighing. “That's the priority. Everything else—” I wave a hand vaguely, “—can wait.”
"We'll help you break it," Micah says eagerly.
"Yeah, we'll help you break it real hard," Sean says, eyeing me appreciatively as if I don’t look like a freak. Maybe they really didn’t see as much as I thought. That’s literally the only explanation for why they’re acting like this.
I sigh. "Touching. And what do you need from me in return?"
The wolves exchange glances.
“We get you in our house,” Killian says, as if it should be obvious. “But it would be great if we can register you as our Bonded with the university. If you decide to stay with us, obviously.”
"Okay," I say before I can talk myself out of it. "I'll try it. On a provisional basis."
Sean lets out a whoop of joy that makes me jump out of my skin, leaping to his feet hard enough to shake the freaking room.
Micah flashes the brightest, whitest grin I’ve ever seen, sharp canines poking out over his full lower lip.
Rowan's usual stoic expression softens, then he’s grinning, too.
And Killian’s entire body sags in the chair so much, he looks like he might actually pass out from relief and adrenaline.
"You won't regret this," Killian promises.
I already have regrets, but none of them are strong enough to change my mind. "I need to tell Villeneuve," I say, standing up.
"Of course," Killian agrees, rising with me. "We'll wait here."
As I move toward the door, I feel their eyes on me.
Not threatening, not predatory, but watchful.
Protective. I don’t know what to do with that.
I’m not usually the focus of positive attention.
I’m used to the objectifying gaze Kyle cast on me as his prized siphon, and I’m used to the revolted stares my scars draw when my glamour slips.
I’m certainly not used to being looked at like I hung the damn moon in the sky.
But they're still wolves.
Still dangerously close to the creature that left me scarred inside and out.
And no matter how convincing the puppy eyes are, I know better than to let my guard down.