her. Half the clothes are too long and slightly too large for her, so I know they don’t belong to her. Wearing too-large clothes gives her a child-like, innocent look that suits her personality. She’s clearly packed and ready to go, but her heart isn’t in it. She’s staring down at the backs of her hands, her eyes red-rimmed and glassy. I’ve seen the black magic rising beneath the scars on her skin, especially during her transition and right after, but right now, her scars are pale and untouched.
Regardless, I’m absolutely certain all she can see is magic. It’s all I can see in my nightmares, and my trauma happened a long time ago.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Sable murmurs, turning over her hands until her palms are facing up. Shiny scars mar the moonlight-pale skin of her forearms. Sometimes, I get so lost in looking in her eyes that I forget about the constellation of her past decorating her body.
Or maybe I just hate to think of the pain inflicted on her during her years with her uncle. It reminds me that we have a truly awful thing in common. Torture like that is something no child should ever have to endure.
“I think it’s the best idea we’ve got.” Sinking down next to her on the mussed blankets, I nudge her with my shoulder. I keep the rest of the thought—it’s the only idea we have—to myself.
“Are you sure?” Her blue gaze finally moves away from her hands and settles on mine. “Maybe we need a plan that doesn’t include any of the packs. Maybe you could take Dare to get help with your pack, and Ridge or Trystan could take me somewhere else safe that won’t break any of your laws…”
I reach over and take both her hands, tugging her fingertips to my lips. Her skin is soft and cool as I press a resolute kiss to every knuckle. Finally, I tuck her hands against my chest and smile. “Sable, we’re sure. We all care about you. It’s not even about the bond anymore—it’s just you. You’re our friend, our companion, and possibly, one day, someone’s mate. Wolves don’t leave their own behind.”
“But I’m not a wolf.” Her voice cracks, and tears well in her already bloodshot eyes.
Fuck.
I usually know what to say. My ability to use reason and logic and to put things into the right words is something I’m proud of. But Sable disarms me in a way that leaves me scrambling for the right thing to say. She’s not taking this transition into being a witch well.
Honestly, none of us are, even when we’re trying to keep up the appearance that everything is fine.
I can’t speak for the other men, but Sable being a witch changes nothing for me. I just don’t know how to assure her of that truth. She was mistreated, abused, and lied to by her uncle for so many years. Being conditioned to expect pain and dishonesty is not something a person can easily overcome.
Still holding her hands against my heart, I lean in and kiss her.
The sensation of her lips on mine makes me want to throw all caution to the wind. The wolf inside me wants to push her back onto the blankets and make her his, while my head is screaming at me to go slow—don’t scare her, keep it gentle and restrained. The two warring sides are enough to drive me insane. Especially when her fingertips slide into my hair and she pulls me closer, her curves settling against me.
I pull away before the kiss can go farther. I want her more than anything, but not right now, when we need to be fleeing the area.
“Maybe you are a witch,” I murmur. “But that’s not what my heart says. My heart says you are a wolf, and you belong with us.”
Sable smiles, her blue eyes sparkling. She seems a little buoyed by my short and sweet pep talk, so hopefully I was able to do some good here. She squeezes my hands, then gently extricates her fingers from mine before she reaches over to zip up the backpack, avoiding my gaze. “Thank you.”
Her voice is too small, like she’s trying to hide her emotions behind her gratitude. Our time together here at the cabin hasn’t been that long, but it’s been long enough that I’ve learned to read her well.
“What is it?” I ask softly. I slide my fingers into her silken hair and