Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Maybe if I hear the story again, I can discern some way to sense whether Kari is my mate.
Nathanial shrugs. “My great-grandfather married a Councilman’s daughter. Ugly thing, but a powerful family. He had no instinct for her, but such are political matches among magickind. Not long after, he met a beautiful human. He burned for her, but confessed that he was… What is the human word? Married. Yes. The woman cried. He kissed away her tears and discovered she was destined to be his. When he tried to break his bond with his current mate, the witch screamed and cursed the family—she swore no Wolvsey mating would ever last. My great-grandfather paid her no heed, broke their bond, and mated with the human. She delivered him a healthy son. Then she died, as have all Wolvsey mates since. We’re not fit for one woman, son.”
So I’ve heard—over and over. “When was the last time a Wolvsey mated?”
My father strokes his chin with a frown. “Your great-uncle Martin, I think. He Called to this tall, exotic witch. I was a lad, but I recall her beauty. Shortly after their pairing, a freak accident separated her head from her body.”
My great-uncle Martin, hundreds of years ago. I’ve never even met the wizard. “No one has tried since?”
“Of course not.” My father peers with concern and drifts closer. “Our mates all die, and the wizards are miserable for centuries. Are you daft enough to think of tempting fate?”
“Precisely what I want to know.”
I jump at the sudden boom of the voice behind me. Raiden. Damn it all. Shit is going to hit the fan.
As I turn to my twin, I can’t think of a single reply. I know better than to ask whether he’s tired of shagging a different woman every night. I would lay money that Raiden is living his dream.
My twin and I used to be identical—except Raiden has a golden mane of hair to my dark. But lately, our ideas and attitudes have diverged more each day.
“I’m merely asking a few questions about the family curse.”
Raiden raises a golden brow. “For the same reason you screamed Kari’s name last night while you shagged Sophia?”
So that was the brunette’s name? Wait. I screamed Kari’s name? “I don’t remember that. Shit.”
“After you dashed away, Sophia, full of tears, visited her best friend, Lily. You cheated me out of a very promising morning. I had to assure her that you were far too inebriated to remember your own name, much less hers. Both friends decided we’re womanizing prats, so there ends my association with Lily.”
I refrain from pointing out that Raiden would never have darkened Lily’s doorstep again anyway. He rarely spends the night with the same woman twice, but my twin wouldn’t welcome the observation just now.
“Congratulations on the impending birth of your first youngling.” I change the subject.
Unfortunately, Raiden isn’t diverted. “You’ve lost the plot. Since our transition into magic, we’ve frequented pubs and shagged countless females. We’ve never failed to secure a night with the women we most want because we function well as a team…until recently. Last night, I had to work damn hard to talk Sophia into inviting you home because you were busy mooning over Kari. It’s making my evenings more difficult, and it’s going to stop.”
Doesn’t my brother realize I’ve tried not to think about the woman I can’t have? Probably not. Until two years ago, Raiden’s perspective was mine, too.
The more I’m with Kari, the more that changes.
“Son,” Nathanial interjects. “You should know better than to mate. It’s no state for a Wolvsey.”
Especially if it means Kari’s death.
I should walk away, never return to the Witch’s Brew or set eyes on her again. But she’s a fever in my blood that I can’t cure—at least until I know if the curse is real. And I can only know that if I touch her…
Chapter
Three
Kari
Sunday night at the Witch’s Brew is quieter than the rest of the week, but the early snow on top of leftover slush from another recent cold snap has made roads unbearable.
A few customers sit in dark corners of the pub. Tynan has already come and gone. Auropha died a month ago today, and his grief is still so raw.
The usual collection of rowdy wizards remains in the back with their billiard sticks and ales. A smattering of people collects around the room, some magical, some not. I don’t always know the difference.
In truth, I’m too busy watching the door. Nearly ten o’clock, minutes until closing. I should face facts; Ronan isn’t coming. Likely, he’s already procured a woman for the night and he’s pleasing her with those deft hands and his sinful mouth…
I shouldn’t care. After Edward, I swore off men, particularly gorgeous ones who only want one thing.
But I can’t stop fixating on Ronan.