The Witch and the Wolf ✔️

Greenheart Mountain

When I awoke, it was still night— but dawn was on the horizon. My cheeks turned red as I realized I'd literally cried myself to sleep. I sat up as straight as I could with my hands pinned above my head. Huron across from me was asleep.

He almost looked innocent when he was asleep— not that that counted for anything, in my mind.

I glanced out the window— still in the middle of mountains.

Shouldn't have slept. Then I'd know how to get back home.

But I was a witch. A damn good one, by the accounts of Aunt Sabrina and Aunt Regina. And because this dress had a pocket in the skirts, a hidden one, I had my grimoire with me still. That was most important.

I couldn't help it— I smirked.

Wolves- 1 and Lorna- 1.

That put the game a little more in my favor.

My smile faded immediately when I saw Huron shift positions, before sitting up. He wasn't the sort to be vulnerable in those few moments of a little consciousness. He was immediately alert, bright-eyed and clear.

"You're awake," he said.

I raised my eyebrows— not saying a single word. I didn't need to, and I wasn't used to speaking to the beasts, anyway.

"Look, I am sorry about last night—"

My eyebrows went higher. "I doubt that."

"If it was up to me, I would have just let you go right then and there," Huron said. "I don't want to force anyone to be with me."

I disagreed, but I knew the wolves could be convincing. For all their allergy to silver, they certainly had tongues crafted from it. Especially Huron Lamar, I'd decided. But I needed to play the game, too. Be meek. Be exactly what they expected from a witch.

So I said nothing at all.

"I think we got things off on the wrong foot," Huron said. Out of his pocket, he pulled the red ribbon used to ensnare young she-wolves in the mating ceremony. "I'm not going to hurt you."

That's never a reassuring phrase.

But I kept my eyes on him, wondering if he'd do exactly what I wanted him to do— release my hands. Then I could fling the door open, duck and roll.

"If I may—" He glanced up to my hands nervously.

"You think I like not being free?" The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"No, I imagine not." There was a slight humor to the edge of his lips as he reached for my hands, and gently undid the ropes around them. My hands were striped red and white, and I shook them out, allowing the blood to come back in.

"Thank you." I didn't want to say it— but I wanted— no, needed— to be charming just then and there.

"You're welcome." He held out the red ribbon. "May I?"

"No." My voice was still firm. "I still think you're making a mistake. I'm no one's mate, and I never will be."

He was silent— I don't think he quite knew what to say to that. No one probably ever told the wolf no.

Maybe I should tell them off more often.

"Maybe we've started this all on the wrong foot," he said. "I'm Huron Lamar. What's your name?"

Maybe that was the punchline to the whole damn ordeal. Even after taking me far from home, he still didn't even know my own name.

I shook my head. "Names have power."