Chapter 18
Humiliating. That was the best way to describe the past hour.
Axel kept his eyes forward as he navigated the rough terrain, bumping and bouncing around in their seats on the drive back to his cabin.
His little witch was silent beside him, gripping the handholds. He resisted the urge to glance at her.
She hadn’t seemed…disappointed about the early end to their day, but he knew she would be. There was a lot at stake. He’d promised to help her get her magic back. He’d done that knowing it would be a challenge—facing his fears. Facing the cave.
He hadn’t anticipated a full blown meltdown.
Useless.
That was another way to describe how he felt.
What good was he if he couldn’t withstand thirty minutes in a fucking cave?
What would he do when she went back? Wait outside while she navigated the unknown?
There could be all sorts of danger in there.
Dark crevasses. Loose rocks. Creatures that resided in the dark.
No.
He’d try again. And again. And again. Until he got past this…this wound.
Because that’s what it was. A festering wound. One he’d buried, hoping it would never resurface.
The hours passed in a self-depreciating haze. He was almost surprised when the back of the cabin loomed before them. He pulled to a stop and cut the engine.
Neither of them rushed to unbuckle their harnesses and the silence stretched.
“I was thirty-six when they came.” The words tore from his chest, like they were desperate to break free. Quick and eager. A sore in need of lancing. “It was a pack of wolves. We had a small croft just outside the village—in Scotland. Where I’m from.”
He didn’t turn to look at her.
“It was the middle of winter—just the three of us. Me, Fiona, and Eilidh—my wife and wee daughter. Fuck.” He took a deep, steadying breath. “That’s the first time I’ve said their names in centuries.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
He could feel Rebecca’s gaze on him, heating his skin like a phantom touch.
Then she did touch him. Just a gentle squeeze on his forearm.
The gesture steadied him. Gave him the strength he needed to keep going.
To take her up on her offer to listen. When she went to remove her hand, his eyes snapped open.
He pressed his palm over hers, keeping her hand in place.
“The pack of wolves—we thought that’s all it was—raided our little croft.
Killed the livestock, then set upon our dwelling.
A fierce storm had rolled in. They broke inside.
I sent Fiona with Eilidh to the back room to hide.
It didn’t matter. There were too many. I couldn’t hold them off.
They…they killed us.” His voice cracked. “Well, Fiona and Eilidh, anyway.”
“Oh, Axel.”
“Must have been at least twelve of them. I lay there, minutes from death, in a pool of my own blood. Listening to my wife’s screams, my daughter’s screams, as they died.
Listening to the wolves as they moved about.
Then I saw naked men—humans. But I was already half-dead.
Thought it was just a dream. After that, everything went black. ”
The silence that fell was heavy and painful with memory.
“You can guess what came after.”
“You survived,” Rebecca said. “That’s how a werewolf is made. You aren’t a wolf shifter, you’re a werewolf.”
“Aye.”
“And Fiona and Eilidh?”
“Their bodies were cold when I found them. I was confused. None of it made sense. There were no wounds on my body. No way to explain how I’d survived. I felt like the biggest coward. I’d failed to protect them—failed to…”
He growled.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice choked.
“My first shift was the worst. It takes longer for a young wolf. I was an abomination. I wanted it out—the thing living inside me.”
“That’s how you found the witches.”
“They found me, living in squalor. Told me they could cure me. Remove the curse.”
“But it’s not a curse.”
His laugh was bitter. “Feels like it—most days.”
Rebecca lifted the hand he had pressed over hers and kissed the back of his palm, finally meeting his gaze. “They took you into a cave and tortured you.”
“Aye, that’s the gist of it. For six days.
Used my pain while they drew my blood from my body to work whatever magic they wanted.
I was saved by the thing I hated. I finally snapped when they thought I was too weak to save myself.
Managed to shift and break free. Hated witches and wolves ever since. ”
“You’ve been alone all this time?”
He huffed. “No. Can’t go alone as a wolf.
It’s not healthy. I tried for years. Found a pack and settled in, then I eventually moved on.
Found another. Then another. The years passed.
Centuries passed. Eventually I found myself here in the states in the eighteen hundreds, when everyone was moving out west. Found a pack in the Pacific Northwest. Belonged there for a little over a century before I left. ”
“And came here?”
“And came here.”
“Why?”
“Because I grew too powerful.” He glanced at her, taking in the little crease between her brows. He lifted his free hand and pressed the divot, smoothing it. Rebecca’s eyes softened at his touch.
“Not sure how much you know about wolf politics?” She shook her head.
“When a wolf grows more powerful, they challenge for higher positions in the pack. It keeps things healthy, maintains the pecking order. My age—the strength and dominance that comes with it—surpassed Magnus. The pack’s alpha.
For a while, I let it be. But the tension between us grew. ”
“And you didn’t want to challenge him?”
“Can’t. Can’t be alpha. Not cut out for something like that. Not when…” She squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue. To lay it all at her feet. So he did. “Not when I’m on the verge of going feral.”
“Feral?”
“It’s what happens to old wolves.” Already, he felt lighter now that the admission was out in the open.
“Wolves who have walked the earth for numerous centuries. Turned wolves—werewolves, not wolf shifters. Born wolves are born with the wolf. They’re one with the wolf.
Turned wolves must always fight for balance. That takes its toll on the mind.”
“Oh…” She lifted a brow. “So you’re mentally deranged, is what you’re saying?”
He huffed. “Something like that.”
“I had a feeling when you tossed me over your shoulder that day.” There was laughter in her voice.
“Lass.”
“So, you decided to make things worse by condemning yourself to a life of solitude.”
“Better that than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“Let Magnus put me down.”
“What?” Her mouth fell open. It was much the same reaction most people had when they learned about the fate of old werewolves.
“That’s what we do. Old wolves become a liability—risk the exposure of our kind when we go on killing sprees, or get careless because we’ve cracked. Then the Supernatural Council steps in. Causes problems for everyone.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am. I’ve had to put down a few myself. Isn’t easy, killing a wolf.”
“Oh, my God. No one is putting you down. I won’t allow it. You’re not…you’re not a rabid dog, Axel.”
He snorted. Because the past few years had felt that way at times. He knew the day was coming. When he’d have to make the call.
“I’m serious,” she said, her voice fierce. “You’re...”
“What?” he asked, hanging on to her every word. She was quiet for a long moment, studying his profile. Then she unbuckled her harness with quick, determined movements. “What are you doing?”
“Something I should have done the moment you started talking.” She climbed over the narrow space between their seats, settling into his lap, straddling his thighs in the cramped confines of the UTV.
Her hands found his face, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones.
The closeness, the feel of her pressed against him, made all the noise in his mind go quiet.
“You were saying?”
“I was saying…” Their eyes held. Hers were the prettiest shade of hazel.
Large and innocent. He could imagine an entire future, just gazing into her depths.
A future they’d never have. “When we first met, I thought you were a little wild. Almost…crazy, the way you tackled me. Like you were a mad man. But then I got to know you. And there’s…
there’s just so much more. You’re kind and thoughtful.
You have the biggest passion for the things you do.
Like your greenhouse, and your cooking. And—this cabin.
” She gestured at it. “You take care of my bunnies as if they were your own, even if you’d rather eat them.
You think of little things—and big things.
You decorated your entire freaking house just to make me feel more at home. You—”
She blinked, her eyes turning glassy. Then she pawed at them. The sight of it made his heart wrench. Hearing her words…
“Rebecca—“
“No. Shut up. Let me say this. I’ve met a lot of men. Human and supernatural. And you’re the best of them, Axel. No one is putting you down. Not now—not ever. Over my dead body.”
She might as well have cracked his chest wide open, reached in, and wrapped her hands around his heart. Cradling it in her very palms. His throat felt thick but he managed to say, “That may not be for you to decide, little witch.”
“Why not?!” Her expression was fierce. Like she’d go to battle for him.
Fuck. He wanted that. More than anything. To know what that was like. To know what it would feel like to have this woman’s protection.
“Because what’s happening to me—it’s inevitable. Those things you mentioned? I seem normal right now because…because of you.”
“Me?” Her brows pulled together.
“Being around you—it does something for me. It calms me. Quiets my wolf. Like medicine.”
“Oh.” A pink flush crept across her cheeks.
“Things weren’t quite like this before you came along.”
“How so?”
“I spent most of my time in wolf form. When I wasn’t, I was itching to shift.
That’s the reason for all the projects. The greenhouse.
The workshop. The cabin. Keeping my hands busy.
It used to help. But recently? I can’t ignore the shift.
And the wolf is wilder with each passing day.
I wake up in places I didn’t remember visiting.
Fresh kills I don’t remember making. It’s why I live so far from town. I can’t risk…”
He took a deep breath. She waited patiently. Not urging him or demanding more. Just…being with him.
“I came here to live out my remaining good years in peace. But…I always planned to call Magnus in the end. Let him know my location so he could send along one of his marshals.”
“No. That’s not happening. I won’t allow it.”
He cupped her face, pressing her cheeks into his palms. “It’s not for you to allow, Rebecca.” Her chin quivered. “I’m old, little witch. Very old.”
“How old?” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, sucking in a long breath. “A thousand years, give or take. One of the oldest wolves in North America, I’d wager. Probably shouldn’t be allowed to live this long.”
“Great. Well, you’re helping me break my curse. So I’m going to help you with yours.”
“It’s not a curse. It’s just reality—”
“No.” Her expression turned angry. She grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away. “If being near me calms your wolf, keeps your madness at bay, then I’m not going anywhere. We’ll break my curse. I’ll keep living with you. I can keep teaching at RCC. I like my job. I… I like it here.”
She blinked. Almost as if she was making a realization. One she was surprised to admit.
The wolf inside him was turning in circles of delight. This was exactly what he wanted. His mate, beside him.
“I won’t have you chain yourself to me. You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you. A bright future, once you get your magic back. Besides, you’re medicine. Not a cure.”
“Sometimes, when no cure exists, medicine is the best we’ve got. I can live with that.”
“Becca…” Her name was a fierce growl. Because maybe she could live with it. But could he?
The answer was certainly no. But he wouldn’t ruin this moment by saying so. Wouldn’t push her away just yet. Not when he needed her so fucking badly.
“Look, Axel. Why don’t we take it a day at a time, yeah?” She looked hopeful, like this was an endurance race she planned to win.
And fuck, he found it hard to argue with her. “Fine.”
“Good. Because I’d like to kiss you now.”
“That so?” His lips twitched. He loved her in this moment. Loved how she could take all his heartbreak and turn it into something light and playful, something good.
“Yep.” She nodded, eager. His cock immediately went hard. He pulled her to him and pressed their lips together. It was sweet at first. A kiss to bring comfort. To soothe.
Their mouths moved gently against each other, tentatively, lips slipping over lips.
Her chamomile and honey scent wrapped around him, making him forget his past, his pain, the fears he carried about the future. There was only the feel of her, the weight of her in his lap, warmth and flesh beneath his palms.
She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth and his breath hitched.
Taking the invite for what it was, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, reveling in the taste of her.
Their kiss turned wilder, becoming an outlet through which he could pour his emotions.
Everything about his revelation. Offered up on the altar of her lips, her acceptance, her need.
If they only had this one afternoon together—he wouldn’t waste it.
He had promised her something earlier. He’d failed to get her knife. But that didn’t mean he would fail elsewhere.
Unbuckling his harness without breaking their kiss, he held her tightly while climbing from the UTV. His long legs ate up the distance to the cabin. It felt unbearably far as he carried her inside, to his room, to the bed he’d fantasized about fucking her in.
His bed.
Neither of them came up for air.
Their bodies were a tangle of roving hands and clashing tongues. Stilted breaths and racing hearts. Hungry mewls and low groans. He set her down on the rug, not caring that they hadn’t shed their muddy boots. That he’d be mopping the floor later.
The only thing he cared about was licking every inch of her skin. Covering her in his scent. Then burying his face between her legs and drowning in her cunt.