effort, but I forced myself to hand him the bag rather than doing it myself. If I simply took over, Ian would assume it really was sabotage, and Nate would get even sulkier. “Here, you do that, and I’ll look at the book for a minute.”
Nate nodded, his cheeks still burning red, and took the bag.
We worked mostly in silence for a while, with me examining the spell to see what precisely it was supposed to do while Nate fiddled with the herbs. As I’d expected, it was a spell for containment: a large salt circle set closer to the wards, activated through our incantations here, that would be strong enough to hold a whole gang of angry alphas and keep them from crossing the line. It looked good in theory; all I had to do was figure out where Nate had gone wrong other than the mallow, and watch as he carefully adjusted the placement of the components.
Ian paced the clearing, making unhappy noises whenever Nate and I were close enough to touch, and sending and receiving the occasional text on his phone.
I bit my lip a dozen times when my mouth tried to start talking without my brain’s permission and ask who he was texting, what the rest of the plan was, and where the fuck Matthew was.
But by the time Nate and I had everything set up, I didn’t need to ask.
My nose tingled. I could smell Matthew’s unique pheromones. He was on his way. My cock stirred in my thankfully loose track pants. Fuck that little — well, not so little — traitor, anyway. A minute later, I heard quiet voices and footsteps crunching on the forest mould.
I kept my head down. The last time I’d met Matthew’s eyes, he’d just had his mouth on me, his big hand wrapped around my cock. Both our cocks. We’d been covered in each other’s come.
And then when he’d woken up, I’d been gone.
What would I see in his face when I looked at him again? I wanted to wait as long as possible before finding out.
It wasn’t that long. I was facing away from the approaching group, but I knew they’d stepped into the clearing when Nate glanced up and smiled. “We’re almost done!” he said, sounding like a kid looking for a pat on the head.
I wanted to sneer, but the low rumble of Matthew’s voice from behind me wiped the nasty smile right off my face. “I knew you could do it, Nate. We’re lucky we have a warlock in the pack.”
Nate lit up like a Christmas tree, his cheeks flushing from pleasure this time, not embarrassment. And I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach.
A warlock, not a shaman. They didn’t need a shaman if they had Nate. Yes, shamans had some talents warlocks didn’t, like the ability to use magic while shifted into animal form — and the ability to shift into animal form in the first place. And we had an affinity for bonding magic and other were-specific things.
But a warlock could set wards, do some healing, create illusions, and use magic in a fight; Nate had the pack covered.
And Matthew appreciated him for it.
It shouldn’t have mattered. I didn’t plan to stick around. But my gut still ached like I’d taken a physical blow.
“It wouldn’t be working without Arik,” Nate said. And sounded — chiding? I glanced up, startled. Was he defending me?
The back of my neck prickled. I knew Matthew was looking at me. “That’s why he’s here,” Matthew said gruffly.
Oh, so Nate got gratitude, but I was expected to turn up and help? What the fuck sense did that make? It was his pack. Not mine.
But Matthew was his brother-in-law. And Matthew was nothing to me. And maybe that explained it.
I stood slowly, gathering my courage, and finally turned. Matthew had been right behind me, just as I’d thought. Now he was right in front of me, his wide shoulders and looming six-feet-plus of alphaness making me feel small and insignificant.
I lifted my chin. It didn’t make me any taller, but at least I looked like I was going to stand my ground.
The look on his face defied interpretation. I’d noticed when he was coming around the Kimball territory before I’d put my spell on him — and after, too, when he wasn’t focused on me — that he had an uncanny ability to be neutral, unreadable. Not blank. Just — pleasantly not expressive. It had served him