Chapter 5
5
J ackson tossed a couple of logs into the firepit over the flame he’d created with kindling and a brick fire starter. The sun had begun its descent behind the mountains. Soon it would be dark, and the temperature would drop, but he didn’t want to be locked inside with Amanda, especially when she was looking through some book while talking with her father about this stupid protection spell that, like an idiot, he agreed to let her cast.
Witches had always made Jackson nervous. When he was in second grade, the girl who sat next to him had been a witch. She had been his first crush with her strawberry-blond hair, generally worn in pigtails, and a freckled face with big bright-blue eyes that always drew him in like a rabbit to a carrot. But being around her family, when they performed witchcraft, even though they seemed like decent people with good intentions, the actual rituals made him wonder if she’d put a spell on him to like her to begin with.
As an adult, Jackson knew his paranoia stemmed from his abusive father, who always told him no one ever likes anyone for no reason. Everyone had a hidden agenda, and everyone would want something from Jackson. His father also constantly told him what a loser he’d been. Even today, from prison, his father would send him letters, telling Jackson what a horrible actor he was and how rotten his films were. He knew he shouldn’t even bother opening the letters, but something inside him made him keep them. His mother had been supportive but believed his inability to believe in himself truly was because he didn’t burn the letters and cut his father completely out of his life.
His mother was right.
He was the idiot who got hit with a baseball bat every time he opened the door but kept opening it anyway, expecting different results. He knew the results he wanted. Wished for. Prayed for. And that was to hear his father never intended to kill anyone.
But that was a pipe dream.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He stared at the contact information for Trask Blue.
Toldar. The great wizard fairy.
Jackson sighed, tapping the green button. Amanda would hate him for this, but he needed to do something.
“Hello?” Trask picked up on the second ring. “Jackson Ledger? Is that you?”
“The one and only,” Jackson said.
“We watched the press conference at the farm earlier. I have to say, everyone was a little shocked you’re doing a film with Lady Amanda Windsor.”
“So am I.” Jackson glanced over his shoulder.
“I’m not, however, surprised to hear from you,” Trask said.
“Really? And why’s that?” Jackson wanted to call Trask a friend, because Jackson could use all the friends he could muster. But it was difficult for Jackson to let anyone outside of his siblings in, something that Trask constantly called him out on. Trask had reminded him of the visions, which hadn’t changed very much over the years. He told Jackson that something big was headed his way, but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was or what form it would take. Just that Jackson was part of the bigger picture. Part of the wolfairy future.
Jackson wasn’t sure if he believed it or not, but there had always been a tickle in the back of his brain, calling him back to these parts; otherwise, he would have stayed in California.
“Well, let’s just say I’m sensitive to fairy dust emulating from a royal witch,” Trask said. “Not to mention, her father called me.”
Jackson’s heart skipped a beat. He opened and closed his mouth three times but couldn’t form any words. He’d kept a watchful eye for the magical sparks and saw none during the media onslaught.
“Don’t stress. The naked eye couldn’t see it,” Trask said. “Not even her father, though it won’t stay hidden long. And he does know she’s been spewing the stuff.”
“I’ve got a million questions. But the two jumping out at me right now are: how do you know it won’t stay hidden long? And how does her father know?”
“The prince told me about what happened in the director’s office. How long it will remain hidden, well, that I can’t be sure. The watchers’ roles these days are limited and what they do tell us is even less. And the legends and myths are more obscure than those that came before. Only visionary and oracles are any insight and that’s limited. Though, we do have new history books that started writing themselves a few hours ago. Cheryl and Dayton are trying to make sense of them, but so far, nothing. Just royal markings and a wolf.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Not sure we do either, except Lady Amanda Windsor may not be exactly what she appears to be, and something sparked her fairy side,” Trask said. “She’s going to need to learn to contain it. Something her father would like me to help her with. He’s coming up there tomorrow. Is that why you’re calling? Because I gave him some ideas.”
“Wonderful,” he mumbled. Being around the prince again wasn’t high on his agenda. “But no. That’s not my reason for this chat.”
“Oh. Then why did you call?” Trask asked.
“We were almost in a bad car accident today. She mentioned something about feeling black magic, but some protection spell made it hard to hone in on it. She wants to cast a protection spell on me. I want to know if it’s safe.”
Trask chuckled. “It’s safer than not having one, and from what I understand, Lady Amanda is a strong, powerful witch. Her magic isn’t as strong as her father’s or as good as mine, but it will work well if someone uses black magic to harm you. I highly recommend you let her. In the meantime, tell Lady Amanda that if she focuses on the energy in her heart, she can control the dust. It will take practice, but she can do it.”
“Any idea what unlocked the dust? She said her mother is part fairy but has no magical powers at all.”
“Her father did tell me that. Thing is, witch fairies don’t mate. Not like wolves and that’s how this has happened in the past.”
“I didn’t claim or imprint on her. I would know if I had.” Jackson closed his eyes for a brief moment. When his birth pack had shunned him, his mating instincts had been diminished. It would have been nearly impossible for him to claim anyone. But now that he’d pledged an alliance, it was once again possible.
But fated mates? That went beyond imprinting. Even beyond what some called soulmates, which witches and fairies both believed in.
He was not part of that plan. Nor did he want to be.
“Black magic could have interfered with your sense of imprinting, depending on when it happened. How do you feel around her?”
“I’m not having this discussion with you. Not only is it absurd, but I didn’t imprint. I would have known. It’s a wolf thing. You’re not a wolf. You can’t understand.”
“My mate is wolfairy. Please.” Trask laughed. “You forget that when I was living my life as a human wizard, there was no way I could claim my mate. The only way I could do that was as Toldar, or if my mate found me, which she did, and that broke the black magic, releasing my fairy self. I didn’t know it happened until she unlocked all of me. If black magic was involved in your near-accident, that tells me there is the potential for other forces to be involved. So, please, answer my questions. Are you attracted to her, but feel conflicted? And I’m not talking about the obvious because of your father. I’m talking about a sensation. A coldness. A feeling as if there is a barrier.”
Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kind of,” he admitted. “It’s complicated.”
“I need to talk with Dayton. He’s the ruler of the fairies. He might have some insight into this. I’ll call you in the morning.” The line went dead.
Fucking wonderful.
The fire crackled as sparks flickered toward the sky. He sat in the plastic Adirondack chair, nursing a beer. He wanted to shift into his wolf form and run in the woods, letting all the tension from the day’s events evaporate into the night air. More than anything, he wanted to get Amanda out from under his skin. He had never expected to see her vulnerable. She exuded confidence in the way she moved across the room. Her words were always articulated with the right vocal inflection that commanded everyone to listen.
Her luscious plump lips made him want to cup her face, fanning his thumbs over the moist, supple skin that lined those lips before bringing his mouth over hers, drawing in her tongue…
Fuck.
The woman made him crazier than if he’d caught rabies.
The screen door screeched.
“I’ve got it,” Amanda said in that dazzling voice that made his ears perk up and his blood turn to molten hot lava. “Not sure how strong it will be, but my dad found a way for us to connect so that we can sense any kind of black magic or danger between us.”
He wouldn’t have agreed to a spell had he found something wrong with the steering on his Jeep or if Trask had told him not to do it, but in the two hours he had under the hood, he’d found absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m sorry for being a bit of a dick, but what if whoever cast that spell on my Jeep is from your family.” He knew nothing of her sisters, except that they were all in the entertainment business of some kind, except for the oldest, who was a journalist for an art magazine.
“It wouldn’t be anyone from my immediate family.” She pulled up a chair, sitting next to him. The fire kissed her tanned skin against the darkening sky.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m very close to my sisters and parents. They don’t hold you accountable for your father.”
“Not the point. They could still wonder if I’m not just a chip off the old block.”
“Yeah, well, you come off like a moody lone wolf, and that scares people.”
He let out a short laugh. “It keeps people at a distance.”
She leaned forward, stretching out her arms. “I need you to hold my hands.”
“That’s asking a lot of a man on the first date.” He glanced toward her fingers. “Is fairy dust going to go flying?”
“I have no idea.”
“Don’t get mad, but I spoke with Trask. He said to focus on the energy in your heart or something. That might control the fairy dust.”
She recoiled. “You told Toldar about what was going on with me? You had no right.”
“Are you going to tell me your father didn’t tell him?”
She glared. “Not the point. It’s not your business. You shouldn’t have told him.” She snagged his hands. No dust appeared. A smile spread slowly across her face. The flames from the fire danced in her blue eyes.
“Are you going to kiss me now?” He blinked a few times, desperate to break the intimate eye contact that made it impossible to keep his thoughts to himself.
Her lips parted as she tilted her head, arching her right brow in a seductive curve. “The more contact we have, the stronger the spell.”
Taking her soft hands in his, he leaned forward, feeling a pull like metal being tugged toward a magnet. Kissing her would be a mistake. It didn’t matter that they would have to kiss in the movie or have an intense love scene.
That would all be acting, and he was a professional.
The fact that his lips were less than an inch from hers had nothing to do with acting and everything to do with being unprofessional. He shouldn’t lick his lips in anticipation of pressing them against hers, but that was exactly what he was doing.
“Open the gate of protection and allow this wolf in the bubble of connection. Alert us to the harm lurking in the dark shadow and allow us to disarm the threat with the force of the buffalo,” she whispered before her eyelashes fluttered closed over lust- laden eyes. A few specks of fairy dust lifted from her face and landed on his with a gentle touch. Her fingers curled tighter around his hands as their mouths gently touched.
A shock vibrated from his lips, shooting down to his toes as he darted his tongue between her lips, tasting the sweetness of honeysuckle seeping from her to him. A rush of heat coated his skin. It was as if he could feel this bubble of protection hug him like an overprotective grandmother with her fierce and unwavering love.
And there it was.
A lingering imprint. As if it had been there all along.
The first claim. It wasn’t a mating. But the intent was clear.
She was his. She’d always been his. It had been there for years. But how?
Well, shit.
He jerked back as more shocks pelted his body like little needles.
“Don’t fight it,” Amanda whispered, squeezing his hands. “The more you feel, the stronger the spell.”
Little did she know this was more than a fucking spell. She was going to have his wolf head on a platter. Her intention was to bond them together for protection.
Not for life.
He hadn’t imprinted at this moment. The imprint had been unlocked. If that made any sense.
The blood flowing through his veins burned. Swallowing scorched his throat. He squeezed her tighter as tremors erupted, jerking his extremities.
He stared into her wide eyes, trying like hell to relax. It felt like he’d been struck by lightning and his body was on fire, only it didn’t hurt.
But he still wanted it over with. The spell was one thing.
Knowing he’d imprinted on her sometime in the distant past was something entirely different.
His body stilled. He sucked in a deep breath, grateful the heat inside his body subsided. “If that is going to happen every time we kiss, we’re never going to get through a love scene during filming,” he joked. Now all he had to do was find the courage to tell her about the imprinting. Another wolf would have felt it. Succumbed to it.
But a witch?
He had no idea.
A fairy? Still no idea.
Especially considering the imprint had been there for years.
Or maybe it was the spell that messed with his perception.
Letting go of his hands, she reached up and leaned in, kissing him once again, only this time, his body reacted more like a normal hot-blooded werewolf, which was disturbing on another level.
His soul knew she belonged to him, but his heart struggled to find the connection. It was as if a cosmic layer of energy prevented them from beating as one.
He let out a low growl, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist and pulling her gently to his lap. Leaning back on the chair, he let his hands roam the curves of her hips while his tongue explored the inside of her mouth. All the tension that had built up in his shoulders had been released through the massaging of her fingers.
A little voice in the back of his mind kept telling him to stop. That kissing her like this would only lead to heavy petting and, inevitably, him taking her to his bed and ravishing her body as if there might not be a tomorrow.
But he ignored the voice, gliding his hands up her sides, just under the swell of her perky, round mounds. He nibbled from her earlobe, across her neck, and down to the first button of her blouse, toying with it between his teeth. He managed to wiggle the button through the hole in the fabric, popping open her shirt and exposing the small space between her breasts. He kissed the top of the soft mound, fanning his thumb over her tight nipple.
Her back arched in response, lifting her breasts higher.
He scrambled to unbutton her shirt, shoving it to the sides. Her lacy black bra held her swells, pushing them high, her areola peeking out. He ran his tongue over the top, slipping it inside, drawing out her nipple.
She shivered. “Jackson.”
He sucked in a breath as he pulled her shirt across her body. “I’m sorry. We can’t do this.” No matter how badly he wanted her, too many unanswered questions loomed in the background.
“I know.” Her fingers fumbled with her shirt as she slid from his lap, taking a seat next to him. The flames of the fire behind her roared up toward the sky. “The spell was much more powerful than I thought it would be, and we just got caught up in the sensations of the magic bringing us under the same blanket of protection.”
“It was more than that.” He snagged his beer, downing the last of it. His skin prickled with the heat that only imprinting could leave behind. But it didn’t make sense. It was as if it either hadn’t been completed or it had been hidden.
But that didn’t make sense.
It couldn’t be.
He’d never heard of such a thing with any wolf.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a wolf thing,” he mumbled.
“You can’t say that and not explain.” She glared.
“I need to go run. I’ll be back in an hour, and we can have dinner and I’ll tell you what I meant. Do you like steak?”
“I do. But please don’t tell me you’re going to go hunt and kill?—”
He waved his hand. “I buy my food at the grocery store like everyone else.” Not that he didn’t dabble in the occasional hunt, but he generally didn’t make a habit of doing it to bring home a meal for a woman he was trying to impress.
Fuck. He’d imprinted on a royal witch. The one whose uncle had been murdered by his father. The one he was about to star in a movie with.
Imprinting couldn’t be undone. If he tried to break it, or not honor it, he would die a lonely wolf. Well, at least he hadn’t mated. That would suck, because it would break his heart and he’d die a slow and painful death.
“Can I do something to help with dinner while you’re gone?” she asked. At least she didn’t beg him not to run. Something he honestly did need to do.
“Sure. You can make a salad. I’ve got everything you need in the fridge.”
“Easy enough.”
He nodded before strolling toward the side of the house so he could shift. He didn’t bother to contain the deep, menacing growls as he shifted from one form to another. It wasn’t painful, but the call to the wild was difficult to control, and howling was part of the process. Normally, around a woman who wasn’t a wolf, he’d do his best not to frighten them with the change, but for some reason, he wanted to exert his power as a wolf around Lady Amanda.
He shook his body, ruffling out his fur as he slinked around the corner. As a man, he was taller than average, and as a wolf, he was larger than most. He turned his head, making eye contact with Amanda, who seemed to be unfazed by the fact that the top of his wolf head came to just under her breasts.
She inched forward, her arm stretched out as if she wanted to pet him.
He lowered his head, scratching his paw into the ground, puffing air through his nostrils. It wasn’t an overly aggressive move on his part, but it should have frightened her at least a little. However, she kept moving forward until she stood in front of him, fingers digging into his head, rustling his black and white fur. A tickle, much like a cat purring, vibrated in his throat.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.
He stared at her for a long moment, holding her kind and tender gaze. Whether she knew it or not, she’d accepted his imprinting.
And it had happened long before this moment.
He shook his head and took off running.
Just as he came to the top of the hill that overlooked his cabin, a darkness gripped his bones. The hair on his back stood straight up. The earth shook below his paws. He growled low and long, baring his sharp teeth, turning in a circle, unsure of where the threat came from until three wolves showed themselves to his right.
All three were mediocre in size, but their eyes were nothing short of unusual with their gold tint and sparks that danced like bullets exploding from the chamber of a gun. Their thick coats shined under the moon like nothing he’d ever seen before. It was unnatural to say the least.
Who are you and what do you want? he spoke to the other wolves with his mind.
They responded with a howl, digging their front paws into the ground, ready to attack.
Back off. This is my land.
But the wolves didn’t take heed. They lowered their heads, foaming at the mouth, flanking to his left and right, inching closer.
His heart tightened as if someone had reached in and curled their fingers around it, squeezing the life out of him. He blinked, trying to regain focus as his vision blurred, making him dizzy. His legs tingled with weakness. Just as he thought he was about to pass out, a surge of strength flowed through his blood.
One of the wolves whined as he paused. The other two took a step back, yelping.
The sky swirled above him as a figure hovered over him.
It was the most majestic thing he’d ever seen. A swirl of fairy dust—red, blue, pink, and yellow—circled her body. “Reverse the magic that made you strong and return to the thing of your song,” Amanda’s voice echoed in the night.
The three wolves howled and whined in pain as their bodies convulsed, dropping to the ground, transforming into sparrows before flapping their wings and flying away in defeat.
Amanda’s feet hit the ground with a soft thud. She stared at her hands as the dust floated around her fingers.
“I thought you said you couldn’t actually fly,” he projected, knowing she couldn’t hear him.
She cocked her head, narrowing her gaze. “I can’t really. Only Toldar can truly fly. But this.” She waved her hand and more dust flew from her body. “It hurled me to where you were in seconds. It’s so powerful and I have no idea how to harness it. But it instinctively knew you needed me and its power.” She inched closer, cupping his wolf face, running her long fingers through his fur.
“You can hear me?”
“Is that not supposed to happen?”
He shook his head. “Try talking to me in your mind, using only your thoughts.”
“Okay. Those wolves were definitely created by black magic.”
“No shit.” He grunted and then took off running down the hill. Only wolves could project to each other.
Or a few select humans and their fated mates.
Fuck.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Hey. Wait up.” She waved her hands, creating dust, and followed along through the air like a floating rainbow.
He stared at her and sighed. She glided across the uneven earth like an angel. She was going to kill him, and if she didn’t do it, her father would certainly pull the trigger.