The early morning light filters through as I descend the stairs, determined to break free from the confines of my room. Seeking solace in the company of Beatrice, I make my way to the maid quarters, a desire for fresh air propelling me forward. A soft knock on her door precedes the anticipation of her response.
The door swings open, revealing Beatrice and her words hang in the air with unexpected weight. “Great, both of you are here together,” she declares, and suddenly, the strong scent of my mate envelops my senses.
As her words linger in the air, I spin around in a desperate attempt to validate if the reality matches the unexpected revelation. In a swift turn, my head collides with his broad chest. His powerful arms encircle my waist in that instant, drawing me close. Held securely against his chest, the warmth of his body spilling into mine.
“Be careful,” he cautions, his hand tenderly rubbing my forehead. Startled by the unexpected touch, I instinctively recoil. Nickolas, silent in response to my reaction, conveys more through his eyes than words ever could. In that fleeting moment, I catch a glimpse of hurt before he strides past me and enters the room.
My gaze lingers on his retreating figure, searching for any visible signs of the wounds that likely marked him just the day before. Clad in a black t-shirt, his back reveals no hints of the wound he may have. The urge to inquire about his well-being lingers on the tip of my tongue, but the unspoken understanding between us restrains me. We aren’t the type of mates to exchange such intimate concerns, and I hesitate to breach that unspoken boundary, aware that he might not offer answers even if I dared to ask.
“Are you ready?” Nickolas inquires, turning his attention to Beatrice as she reenters the room and hands him a bag.
“Yeah, we can be on our way,” Beatrice replies, her movements purposeful as she heads toward the door where I stand.
I can’t help but feel a sense of confusion at their exchange. “Is there something going on that I should be aware of?” I question, eyeing them both carefully as they approach me.
“You didn’t tell her,” Beatrice interjects, turning to face Nickolas with a pointed look.
“I didn’t have the time,” he ressprings casually.
“Tell me what,” I demand, my confusion growing with each passing moment.
“That we were going over to my place in witch territory,” Beatrice reveals, gripping my hand and leading me out of the maid quarters, with Nickolas following closely behind.
“No, and why are we going over to your place?” I ask, my mind racing with questions as we step outside the castle and approach a BMW parked out front.
“So you could bathe in the healing spring in witch territory, and hopefully, your wolf will finally wake up,” Beatrice explains, opening the car’s passenger door and gesturing for me to get in.
I turn to face Beatrice and envelop her in a deep hug, overwhelmed by gratitude for her selfless gesture. The mere mention of the healing spring, a sacred site to witches, fills me with a sense of awe, knowing the sacrifice it must have entailed for her sisters to grant me access as a werewolf.
“Thank you so much,” I express sincerely, squeezing her tightly in my embrace.
“You’re welcome, dear, but stop killing me,” Beatrice teases, prompting me to release her with a chuckle.
“Sorry,” I apologize, a smile tugging at my lips.
“It’s fine, dear, and I wasn’t the main reason it’s happening. Nickolas is,” she reveals cryptically before making her way to the backseat, leaving me to springer her words.
I watch in a daze as Nickolas approaches the driver’s side, our eyes briefly meeting before he enters the car. Her words echo in my mind, casting a shadow of doubt over my perceptions of him. Nickolas had a hand in this? It seemed inconceivable, yet the weight of Beatrice’s revelation lingers in the air, leaving me stunned and unable to comprehend the implications.
“Get in the car, Amelia,” Nickolas’s voice jolts me from my reverie, and I quickly comply, strapping my seatbelt on as the car purrs to life.
Throughout the journey to witch territory, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from Nickolas, my mind consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and unanswered questions. His involvement in orchestrating this trip remains shrouded in mystery, leaving me to grapple with the unsettling realization that perhaps I didn’t know him as well as I thought.
We pull up to Beatrice’s secluded cabin, nestled deep in the heart of the forest. Witches, known for their affinity for solitude, often find solace in secluded abodes. Beatrice’s rustic cabin in the woods is no exception. The tranquil surroundings exude a sense of serenity, a sanctuary away from the chaos of the outside world.
Stepping out of the car, I’m greeted by her beautiful daughter, a living embodiment of her late husband’s legacy as an air witch. I exchange heartfelt greetings with her before venturing into the depths of the forest behind Beatrice’s house, where the healing spring awaits. The canopy of trees overhead casts dappled shadows on the forest floor. Nickolas trails closely behind me, his silent presence a palpable weight in the air. Though he utters not a single word, his unwavering gaze and the faint trace of his scent are unmistakable indicators of his proximity. Each step I take is shadowed by the weight of his silent observation, his penetrating gaze drilling holes into my back as we navigate through the forest.
Arriving at the spring, I anticipate Nickolas to avert his gaze while I undress, but not to my surprise; he remains rooted in place, his unwavering presence unmoving. I would have been more astonished if he had granted me privacy. Turning away from him, I begin to peel off my clothes until I am left only in my underwear. Glancing back at him, I find his eyes scanning my body, their intensity cutting through me. Prepared for disgust or disdain, I am instead met with a simmering anger, evident in the tight clench of his fists and the rigid set of his jaw. Turning away from him, I shake my head in silent frustration before immersing myself into the healing spring. A sigh escapes my lips as the warm water comes in contact with my tired muscles.
Leaning back against a smooth rock, I relish in the sensation of the water caressing my skin, the gentle embrace of the natural remedy soothing my weary body. With my eyes closed, I allow myself to surrender to the tranquility of the moment, hoping against hope that the healing properties of this sacred spring will work their magic on Marie, coaxing her slumbering form back to consciousness.
***
An hour later, I emerge from the spring with a heavy heart and shoulders slumped, a pout etched upon my lips.
“Nothing,” Nickolas inquires, extending a towel toward me. I accept it gratefully, wrapping it around my damp form as I shake my head in response. Despite the renewed strength coursing through my veins and the fading traces of my scars, there is still no sign of Marie stirring from her slumber.
“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Nickolas assures me as we begin our journey back to Beatrice’s house.
And so, we repeat the ritual for the remainder of the week. Each morning and evening, I return to the healing spring in hopes of rousing my dormant wolf. Yet, each day ends in disappointment as Marie remains unresponsive.
Nickolas’s fury is palpable, mirroring my own frustration with the outcome. Whether his anger stems from Marie’s failure to awaken or from a perceived squandering of his deal with the witches remains uncertain to me.
Tonight marks our final evening here before we must return to the castle, as Nickolas is bound by his kingly duties.
After dinner, I bid everyone a good night and retire upstairs, the weight of disappointment heavy upon my shoulders. Despite my efforts, I still feel no connection with Marie. I climb into bed with a heavy heart, hoping for a restful night’s sleep despite the turmoil within me.
Later at night, hushed voices rouse me from my slumber, but I feign sleep, hesitant to confront the source of the disturbance. However, my pretense is short-lived as a sharp jolt of pain courses through me, and I find myself wincing as fangs pierce my skin, sinking into flesh. My eyes snap open in shock, only to be met with the unexpected revelation from Marie.
“Mate!” she says. I turn to face Nickolas, realization dawning upon me that he is the one who has bitten me. His eyes, filled with an unexpected sense of joy, meet mine, causing my brows to furrow in bewilderment.
“I can’t believe it worked,” Beatrice gushes from across the room, drawing my attention away from Nickolas.
“What’s going on?” I ask, confused.
“Your wolf is back,” she exclaims.
“She’s back?” I repeat, feeling a surge of disbelief and hope wash over me. Quickly, I try to connect with Marie, and there she is. Tears of joy fill my eyes.
“Marie,” I whisper.
“Hello, Amelia,” she greets, her voice wrapping around me like a warm blanket, soothing my soul.
“I’ve missed you,” I say, feeling a rush of relief.
“Me too,” she replies softly.
“Please don’t ever leave me,” I plead.
“Never,” she promises before our connection fades.
I bring my focus back to the room, and the sight that greets me leaves me stunned. Nickolas is delicately licking the small trickle of blood from my wrist, a gesture that sends a shiver down my spine. Quickly retracting my hand, I hold it close to my chest, my heart racing. His jaw tightens, and he rises to his feet in a swift motion.
“Sleep well. We leave early tomorrow,” he states before exiting the room, leaving me to grapple with a sense of bewilderment. His recent behavior has been increasingly perplexing since my return, and I’m left pondering the reasons behind his unsettling actions.
“Goodnight, dear, and sorry for the way Nickolas did it. I told him we should wait until morning before we try, but you know him,” Beatrice apologizes, her words tinged with understanding. I nod in agreement, all too familiar with Nickolas’s tendency to act on his own accord, regardless of others’ suggestions.
Lying back down, my mind feels muddled with confusion. Nickolas’s recent actions weigh heavily on my thoughts, leaving me grasping for clarity in a sea of uncertainty. As I close my eyes, I exhale deeply, determined to quiet my mind and find solace in sleep. The last thing I need is to spend another restless night pondering the enigma that is my mate.