The Lycan and His Witch Read online

  Zora groaned softly as she stared at the mess that she had to clean. She heard movement in the living room and knew Bryce had finally returned. She left her bedroom and saw him staring at the dinner table.

  “I hope you like lamb,” she said

  “I do. Thank you.”

  “I’ll join you in a minute. I have to clean something first. Luna made a mess.”

  Bryce raised a brow. “Luna?”

  “My cat.” She motioned to the table. “Somehow, she managed to jostle my mirror with her paw and there’s broken glass everywhere. Please have a seat.”

  “I’m going to wash my hands first.”

  Back in her bedroom, as she finished collecting the last piece of glass, she heard a strange thud followed by a muffled curse from the bathroom. Worried, she fled from her bedroom and sped into the hall. Bryce stood there, holding her mirror against his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It appeared crooked and I tried to straighten it. I guess the wire was loose and it fell. I’m afraid there are a couple of long cracks in the glass.”

  Two mirrors in a span of five minutes. “Never two without three,” she muttered, thinking about her remaining mirror in his bedroom. “It’s not your fault, Bryce. It was loose and I’ve been meaning to fix it. Did you get hurt?”

  His mouth quirked. “Yes, but I’m a Lycan, remember? My cuts heal instantly.”

  “Right.”

  “Where can I put this?”

  “In the backyard, there’s a black, metal container. You can’t miss it.”

  He nodded brusquely. “I’ll put this away for you and meet you in the dining room.”

  Bryce moved towards her and she jumped back. His elbow had come dangerously close to her.

  Ten minutes later, they sat at the table, eating in silence. Every once in a while, his dark gaze clashed with hers and his mouth thinned. She wondered what he was thinking about and wished she had the power to read minds—but only vampires held that distinction.

  “Why do you want the cure for your werewolf curse?” she asked softly. At Bryce’s sharp look, she continued breathlessly. “I mean you heal instantly and from what I know about werewolves, you’re immortal.”

  His mouth twisted wryly. “And you see immortality as a blessing. It’s not. It’s a curse.” He reached for his ale, taking a deep swig.

  “You’ve watched all your loved ones die and you’ve stayed young and healthy,” she offered gently. He didn’t look more than thirty years old.

  His face darkened. “Yes. And those who were Lycan, I’ve watched staked through the heart with silver.”

  She gasped softly. “I’m sorry, Bryce.”

  He nodded, remaining silent.

  “How…how old are you?”

  “I’m three hundred years old.”

  His tone was abrupt, telling her he didn’t want to talk about this. “People see immortality as a gift, but I suppose it does come with a terrible price,” she offered gently.

  “And you? What is the terrible price you pay for your ability to conjure spells?”

  She didn’t take offense to his harsh tone. “Look around you, Bryce. Do you see anyone else here? I’ve been alone since my mother died five years ago. I…I have no friends, no family. Witches keep to their kind and my line has dwindled down to me.”

  “You’re the last of your generation?”

  “Yes.” Except for Morganna, she thought. Her mind went back to that day when she’d learned how Morganna became immortal.

  “Momma, how could she still be alive after all these centuries,” Zora had asked as a young girl.

  “A witch turns immortal when she kills another witch,” her mother had answered grimly. “She killed her sister.”

  Zora tore her gaze away from Bryce’s penetrating eyes.

  “You must have felt pressure growing up knowing you were the last one to continue your line,” he said.

  “No. I never wanted to follow my ancestors’ footsteps and marry without love,” she said without thinking.

  His brow rose. “Indeed. That was an odd choice.”

  “It was the only choice.” She had said too much and decided to choose her next words carefully. “My ancestors chose good, strong, capable men to marry for the sole purpose of having a family. Love was never a factor, although they did grow to have affection for each other.” She cleared her throat delicately and reached for her bread.

  “If witches keep to their kind, did they wed warlocks?”

  “Some did, others didn’t and just kept their heritage a secret.”

  A thick silence fell over them as Zora avoided Bryce’s gaze.

  * * * *

  Bryce knew she was hiding something. That meant she could also be hiding the cure for his werewolf curse. He flicked his gaze over her face, taking in her softer skin, her fuller mouth. She was an enigma with her flashes of beauty in her unpleasant appearance.

  She told him she wanted him to leave in two days. He had until tomorrow to find the truth. Could she cure him of his curse?

  “How did you turn into a werewolf?” she asked. She was obviously changing the subject.

  He didn’t mind. He didn’t really want to know about her family history, not that he didn’t find her interesting. He did, Bryce grudgingly admitted to himself. It was just that he had to deal with more pressing matters. Such as his damn werewolf curse, and how he could end it, short of plunging silver into his heart.

  “A pack of werewolves raided my village one night. They either killed or turned us. They turned most of my family—mother, father, brother, sisters. My…my wife and son were killed that night.”

  Her expression was horrified. “I’m so sorry, Bryce.”

  His heart warmed at the concern in her voice. Her tone was husky, sexy, and if he wasn’t looking at her, he could swear he was talking to a different woman. Her soft voice belonged to that of a beautiful woman. He froze at his strange turn of thoughts.

  “It was a long time ago. My last family member died three years ago. My brother. A Lycan hunter killed him with a silver tipped arrow.”

  “And that’s when you had enough and wanted to end your werewolf curse.”

  “Yes. After living all these centuries, I’ll rid myself of this curse and die as a human, or…or I will kill myself.”

  She gasped. “You’re not serious!”

  “I am.”

  A howl in the distance drew her gaze sharply to her door. Her expression was apologetic when she looked back at him. “Bryce, I’m sorry. I have to…I have to go out for a minute.”

  He lifted a brow in surprise. “Now? It’s dark. Can I help with anything?” He watched her rise, walk to the kitchen area, and pick up a box from the counter.

  “No. I…I just have to…to take care of something. Please stay here and finish your dinner. I’ll be back shortly and we can continue our conversation.”

  Soon after she left, he rose abruptly. Grim-faced, he followed her.

  * * * *

  Zora sped through the dark woods, sorely disappointed she had to cut their conversation short. She wanted to learn so much more about him.

  She heard the crackle and snaps of twigs behind her, and ignored the sounds. She wasn’t afraid of the woods. It was her home.

  She stopped by the large boulder beneath the old tree and waited. She heard them coming. They growled softly as they approached. Zora caught sight of their gleaming fur in the light of the near full moon. She knew they smelled the meat in her box and she smiled.

  The big wolf, the black one she’d grown fond of, appeared. She placed the box down and opened the lid. The rest of the lamb and yesterday’s meat was there. The black wolf approached steadily on its haunches, snarling as it crept closer to her.

  She’s always thought he resembled a huge black dog. The sound of a growl behind her drew a frown on her face and she wondered if this pack had acquired another member. The black wolf stopped before her and buried its face in the box, gnawing and gnashing at th
e food. She giggled and bent down to rub it behind the ears as its two other members pounced on the scene. They nudged the black wolf aside and the three began to eat. She petted them behind their ears and glided her hand over their rich coats.

  The black one growled, snapped his massive head to her hand, and licked her wrist.

  Zora laughed.

  * * * *

  Bryce’s gut clenched in reaction to her soft, lilting laugh. He watched the wolves taking a moment out of their feeding to lick her hand. What…the hell…was happening, his mind roared?

  He stood there in his Lycan form and could not believe what he was witnessing. The three wolves were the ones that had attacked him earlier in the day. When he’d seen the black one approach Zora, he’d growled his turn to his Lycan form and was ready to vault through the air and pounce on the animal when, to his utter disbelief, the animal let her pet him as if it was a…a dog.

  Unbelievable, he thought, frozen where he was standing. She’d befriended three wild animals, animals that could rip her to shreds—or had she placed them under a spell? For what purpose, he thought? He was so damned confused, he wanted to raise his head to the dark night and howl like a madman, but he refrained. The wolves would hear him and attack him, and he didn’t want to place Zora in any danger. At the thought of Zora getting hurt, his heart squeezed.

  The wolves stopped eating and vaulted up into her arms, almost knocking her over. Bryce froze, his heart nearly stopping. Shocked, he realised the animals were showing her their affection and thanks. She rubbed their backs, laughing softly.

  Slowly, the wolves drew back and left.

  Bryce couldn’t decide what he felt—awe, respect, admiration? He’d seen many incredible things in his three hundred years, but he’d never seen anything like this. Damn it, he couldn’t befriend those beasts earlier, and he was a blasted wolf himself!

  As she walked towards him, he felt a thread of tension run up his spine. Something was different about her. Her silhouette was not the same. It was much slimmer and he saw a hint of a waist. His gaze narrowed on her breasts as she approached him and he sucked in a harsh breath. They definitely appeared higher, firmer, the full breasts of a young woman.

  As she walked slowly towards him, he caught sight of her hair. All the grey was gone. Her golden hair shone under the moon’s glow, silky and soft.

  Astonished, he narrowed his eyes.

  She caught sight of him and gasped, jerking a gloved hand to her mouth. What was it about those damn gloves she kept wearing, Bryce thought angrily? He shifted back to his human form, naked, and gave her startled face a dry look.

  “Can you conjure up a spell to repair my clothes? I have nothing left to wear,” he said, unable to take his gaze away from her beautiful golden hair, then lowering it to her breasts rising and falling sharply with each alarmed breath.

  Zora was now a half beauty, half hag and Bryce knew instinctively there were dark forces at work here. He just needed to find out what the devil they were up to.

  Chapter Six

  Zora averted her gaze from his naked loins. This was the second time today she’d seen him naked and she didn’t think she could handle a third. He was a perfectly sculpted, raw masculine perfection that threatened her very resolve. “Bring them back to the house and I’ll fix them,” she said stiffly.

  He wasn’t even in the least bit embarrassed, standing there with an arrogant lift to his mouth. She turned on her heels and walked back to the house. She heard his steps behind her, her back tingling with awareness.

  “Can you tell me what the hell that was all about back there?” he asked abruptly.

  Her back tingled from his tone, but she kept walking, refusing to turn around. “What was what all about back there?” she countered, but she knew what he meant.

  “The wolves, dammit! They tried to kill me earlier and they acted like damn puppies with you.”

  “I have a way with animals, especially wolves,” she replied tightly.

  Quickly, she sped up her steps and went into her home. Without looking at him, she went to the centuries-old chest on the floor by the fireplace and lifted the lid. The book of spells was old and dusty and she made a mental note to wipe it later. She lifted it from the chest and took a deep breath, having forgotten how heavy it was. Bracing herself, she turned around and faced him.

  Relief flooded through her veins. He’d taken one of her throw rugs and had wrapped it around his middle, leaving his tattered clothes on the arm of the sofa.

  He eyed the big dusty book in her arms. “What is that?”

  She hugged it close to her chest. “This is my book of spells. I usually take a needle and thread to repair clothes. I try not to use my spells for everything. I…I want to…to…” her voice trailed at penetrating stare he gave her.

  “To try to live a normal life,” he said, finishing her statement.

  “Yes.” She tore her gaze from his and put the book down on the table. She opened the cover and wrinkled her nose at the musky smell that rose from the yellow pages. She felt his presence behind her and froze. Did he have to stand so close to her?

  Quickly, she flipped through the pages, numbered and alphabetised…cats, cinder… She breathed a sigh of relief. There it was. Clothes. She scanned the ancient words and found what she was looking for. Mothisestrum—the spell for mending clothes.

  “This book has been handed down for centuries with each generation adding new spells to its binding,” she murmured. “Unfortunately, my ancestors weren’t all great spellers and I hope I pronounce this right.”

  This had better work, she thought. The last thing she needed was Bryce prancing around naked until he left tomorrow.

  She raised her hand and pointed it towards the clothes.

  “Mothisestrum,” Zora whispered and watched a magic mist lift and attach his tattered clothes.

  * * * *

  A book of spells, Bryce thought. He ignored the magic happening with his clothes and stared at the ancient pages. Was there a spell within this book that could remove his werewolf curse? Bryce snapped his gaze to her profile and narrowed his eyes. He still couldn’t believe the changes to her appearance. Her softer skin, her silky hair, her sensual lips. He blinked.

  He would look at the book when she was asleep tonight and because it was in alphabetical order, all he had to do was search for werewolves. After he got what he came for, he would find out what the hell was happening to her appearance along with what happened out there in the woods. Bryce didn’t buy for a moment she had a way with wolves. No human did. He was certain she was lying.

  Another thing Bryce was certain of was that Zora was unaware of her changing appearance.

  She looked up at him, captivating him with her beautiful eyes. They were the colour of the sea on a sunny day, deep blue, dazzling…inviting. Damn it! He’d never met anyone who disturbed him so much.

  He heard her say that his clothes were ready.

  He swallowed hard and nodded as she took the book away and walked to the chest that was on the floor.

  He watched her backside as she bent and warmth invaded his loins. Lust made his gut clench with primal need. Annoyed with himself for his lack of self-control, he went to his clothes. Without a flicker of shame, Bryce dropped the blanket from his middle and dressed, ignoring the soft gasp behind him.

  He lay in his bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, listening to Zora’s breathing in the next room. This was one time Bryce welcomed his Lycan blood. Since turning three centuries ago, his senses had amplified and he could hear and smell things hundreds of paces away.

  He heard her soft sigh, his mind going to her lips.

  After a while, her breath came out slow and regular and he got up.

  Zora is asleep.

  Without making a sound, Bryce went into the living area and stopped before the chest. He opened the lid and took the book to the table, opening it slowly. He ran his finger over the inside of the spine that was threaded with a fine, gold threa
d.

  He was at the letter K, and he glanced quickly at the entries. Kitchen: clean, paint, repair, circa 700BC, page 1214.

  He heard Zora rustle in her bed and he stiffened. He had to hurry. He flipped over to the L’s and froze. Love: Curse, The touch of death spell. circa 1056, page 2154. This page was different from the rest. Newer.

  Curious, he read the entry.

  Morganna’s female descendants will find true love with a Lycan and upon their first touch, he will perish. Only the purest of love can break the curse.

  “What are you doing?”

  He froze. Slowly, he turned to the sound of her voice and gently closed the book. “Looking for a spell that could break the werewolf curse,” he said. He didn’t think lying would help his cause. Zora marched to him and took the book from the table. He stared at the gloves she wore.

  “And I told you none exists.”

  “Show me,” he said, anger rising to his surface. Bryce reached for the book she was holding and she jumped back.

  “Stay away from me!” Zora snapped.

  He saw fear rise in her eyes and he froze. Something at the back of his mind flared and he tried to ignore the unbelievable implications.

  Since meeting her, she’d always kept her distance from him and she’d always worn her gloves. She didn’t want him to touch her. Also, where he’d thought she was a reclusive, old witch, slowly, her appearance was showing him otherwise.

  He frowned, his mind going to what he’d just read in the book of spells.

  Impossible, Bryce thought. Without thinking, he lunged forward and tried to touch her face, but she was quick.

  Zora let out a shriek and jumped back, falling over an ottoman, trying to hold on to the book she was embracing as she fell. When she landed on the ground, her white nightgown rolled up her legs to reveal lovely calves.