12. Jace

Follow, my wolf growled as Kirsten fled down the hall. Claim.

I mentally flinched away from that. The desire was there, the push from my wolf beyond powerful. If I wasn't careful, he would take control, and that wasn't something I could allow. The animalistic side of me couldn't simply do whatever it wanted. No matter how Kirsten was reacting.

Her heart had sped up like a drum solo in a rock song. Her scent had changed while I'd patched her up. A combination of arousal, fear, panic, and confusion. The heady smell had stolen my voice. Then she'd looked into my eyes. And the spark it had set off had nearly caused my wolf to lose his mind with desire.

As I glanced around the interior of the cabin, I saw one of the bedroom doors was open. The edge of a bed was visible. That was all my wolf needed to see.

Mate. Claim. Follow.

As though to punctuate the thought, an image flooded my mind. Kirsten, sweaty and writhing, arching her back as I thrust into her.

"Stop," I hissed, shaking my head to clear it of that tantalizing image. "Fucking stop it." I wasn't sure if I was talking to myself, my wolf, or both.

Acting without thinking of the consequences was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. I refused to let it happen again. No way in hell would I approach Kirsten. Not like that. Not when I still had a hard time believing she was my fated mate.

After a moment that felt like it had stretched into eternity, Kirsten finally returned, holding something in her hand. "Got it."

It was a small hairpin. I looked at it, then at her, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously? That?"

She sighed, and an adorable pink flush crept into her cheeks. "It doesn't have to be a big or super-important item. Just one that belongs to me or my enemy. This should work. At least that's what the book says," she added, pointing to the stack of books on the kitchen counter.

"All right," I said with a smile. "You're the expert. Not me."

Kirsten let out a derisive laugh. "If I'm the expert, we're in for a shit-ton of trouble."

Uncertain how my wolf and I would react to being close to her again, I stayed rooted to the spot as she moved past me to the books on the counter.

Kirsten cursed under her breath as she flipped through the pages. "You know, it would have been really nice if Nana had told me about all this when she was still alive. I have no fucking idea what I'm doing."

"So you never felt any magic before now?" I asked.

"Nope," she said, then glanced up at me. "Not until I met you."

So strange. It was a known fact that witches manifested their initial powers around the age of sixteen. For hers to wait until she was past thirty should have been damn near impossible.

"What about your parents? Did they ever say anything?" I asked.

Kirsten paused, tearing her eyes away from the book. "No. My mom died when I was a toddler. Plus, she wasn't a blood relation to Nana. That was my dad. And…" she trailed off, a distant look in her eyes. "Well, let's just say he wasn't one for long talks."

I wanted to kick myself for even asking. Waylan and I had already looked into her background. I knew her mother was out of the picture. Also, everyone knew magic was passed through the mother's line. Men were incapable of magic. When Kirsten's grandmother birthed a son, she probably believed the chance to pass her knowledge on had died. I could imagine how happy the woman must have been to find out she had a granddaughter. One last chance at some sort of heir. When Kirsten didn't manifest anything, she must have given up all hope. It was sort of sad. Close to what I'd been going through.

Unsure what else to say, I leaned over and scanned the passages in the book, hoping to help her find some sort of counter-curse to help me or a ward to protect her house—not that I knew what to look for, but I had to help in some way.

"Here," Kirsten finally said, pointing to a passage. "I think this is a basic recipe for a ward. Can you go outside and grab a few of these herbs? I think I have everything. I'll get the other stuff."

I checked the list and headed out to the flower bed outside. Kirsten took a small knife and the book to the edge of the yard. As I plucked leaves from the seedlings I'd brought for her, she gathered items and cross-checked them with the pictures in the book. When I was done, Kirsten joined me on the porch, carrying a strange assortment of things.

"What is that?" I asked, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

"An earthworm, seven inches of oak bark, an ink cap mushroom, and what I hope is bird poop." She held out the blade covered with white-brown paste.

"Gross. Is this what magic is?" I asked.

"Again, you are not talking to an expert. At least it's not ‘eye of newt' and ‘toe of frog' like in Shakespeare. Come on, let's see if I can make this work."

Kirsten dumped everything onto a cutting board and began dicing the items into a paste while scanning the recipe.

"Can you check in the bathroom for a bottle of witch hazel? Saw it when I was cleaning. Bring it to me, please?"

Feeling like a child helping his mother cook dinner, I hurried to fetch the new ingredient. The bottle was where she said it would be, crusty with old dust but more than half full. When I gave it to her, she dumped the entire thing into a pot on the stove and turned the heat on.

Kirsten deftly finished chopping everything up and dumped it into the pot of boiling witch hazel. For someone who said she had no idea what she was doing, it looked like she'd done it a million times before. She was a natural at this.

"Could you not stare?" Kirsten said. "You're freaking me out."

"Sorry." I chuckled and moved to the other side of the kitchen.

I settled on a spot closer to the fridge than the stove, looking over her shoulder to see what she was doing. Once the pot was steaming, she plopped the hairpin into it and stirred.

"Seven times counter-clockwise," Kirsten read from the book. "Then nine times clockwise? I can't imagine how many times some Stone Age witch had to try to make this before getting the numbers right."

"Trial and error, I guess."

Kirsten snorted. "Good Lord, that sounds miserable."

Despite my promise to give her room, my curiosity won out, and I slowly inched forward. Would the concoction burst into colored flame, or maybe start swirling on its own?

Before any of that could happen, Kirsten pulled a small ladle from a drawer and grabbed a small glass jar.

"I don't have any delicate little vials like the other one. This will have to do," she explained as she unscrewed the lid of the jar and set it aside. She ladled the concoction into the jar, the hairpin plinking against the edge.

"Can you hand me the lid?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah."

I picked up the lid and handed it to her. Kirsten put it on, spinning it tightly to seal it.

"What now?" I asked.

"It says I need to name the people I want to keep out." Kirsten shrugged. "Don't hold this against me if it sounds dumb."

"Absolutely not," I promised.

Raising the jar, she said, "I hereby ward this property from any and all men, women, or creatures that might wish to do me harm. Most importantly, I bar Eren Miller from accessing these grounds."

I leaned closer, eyeing the jar, hoping to see some spark or something to confirm that it had worked. In doing so, my forearm grazed Kirsten's. She gasped, and I felt a rumbling, pulsing shockwave tremble across our skin. It was similar to what I'd experienced earlier when I'd held her fingers, except this was more powerful. My eyes widened in surprise, and my inner wolf flinched back, whining as the magic took hold.

What looked like a small, noiseless explosion rocked the liquid inside the jar, and then the liquid vanished, leaving only the hairpin. The cabin doors flew open, and another loud pop had me and Kirsten jumping apart.

"It worked," Kirsten breathed almost reverently.

She was right. I could feel the new ward. The sensation was already fading as the spell settled into place, but there was no doubting it. She'd created a new ward.

"Holy shit, it worked," she repeated, setting the jar down. "Oh, holy shit." All the reverence had left her voice, panic setting in.

"Are you all right?" I asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know," Kirsten croaked. "I just did magic. Like, for really real magic."

"Let's get you some air," I said, leading her to the door as she pulled in heaving gasps of air. I was worried she was about to have a panic attack.

"You're okay," I said. "Big, deep breaths now."

Her breathing settled somewhat, and then she was laughing. Great belly laughs of enjoyment.

"Jace, I did it!" she shouted, beaming at me. "Magic is real, and I did it!"

Her smile was infectious, and I grinned, my shoulders sagging in relief now that I knew she was okay. She'd done magic. She'd created a ward, and I'd been a part of it. There was no doubt in my mind that touching her had somehow helped fuel the magic within her. Strange but amazing. I couldn't help but feel a small twinge of pride that I'd managed to help her in some way.

"This is so crazy," she went on. "I'm a witch. I'm supposed to just be a teacher, you know? I teach kids how to read and write and do math. I'm not some professor at a magic school or something." She paused and looked at me with renewed interest. "Wait, are there magic schools? Like in the movies?"

It was my turn to laugh. Once I recovered, I shook my head. "Not that I know of."

"Just checking."

Kirsten ran her fingers through her hair and turned in a slow circle, obviously still coming to grips with everything. It was endearing to see her with her guard down, simply enjoying the moment.

Letting her take a moment to process, I walked to the edge of the ward. My skin buzzed as I drew near. It actually felt stronger than the previous ward. A testament to Kirsten's power, maybe?

"Thank you, Jace," Kirsten said.

"Me? For what? The herbs?"

Kirsten rolled her eyes. "For being here. Helping me. I've never been big on asking for help. Especially in the last few years when Nana was sick, I did all the helping. It's not something I'm used to, but it does mean a lot. So… thank you."

"Anytime," I said. "At least now I can deliver your groceries to the front door. You won't have to come out and meet me in the driveway."

"True. Maybe I'll figure out some way to remove your curse, too, now that I've proven I can do stuff."

"That would be great, but I don't want to put any pressure on you. If you can, it would obviously be great." I shook my head to get it back on straight. "I need to fill you in on tonight."

"What's tonight?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling.

"Nothing bad," I said, holding my hands up in defense. "I just remembered what tonight is. With all the excitement, I almost forgot. Do you know what a pack run is?"

She nodded. "I've heard of it. You guys all get together and, like, howl at the moon and stuff?"

"Sort of," I chuckled. "The whole pack gets together and runs through the pack lands. Best way to describe it is that it helps us build camaraderie and blow off steam. Mostly, it's instinct, and we're sort of driven to do it." I sighed in frustration. I was getting sidetracked. "Sorry. Tonight. We're doing our run tonight. I figured I should let you know, though I doubt many of us will come anywhere near your cabin. But in case you see a bunch of wolves running around, I don't want you to freak out."

"Oh, well, thanks. I probably would have freaked out, so it's good to know. I appreciate it."

"Good," I said.

"Good," she agreed.

We stared at each other, the silence growing ever longer. The more it dragged on, the more awkward it became. This had been a very strange day, and I had no clue how to end this little encounter.

"Well," I said lamely, "I guess I'll head out. Do you need anything else?"

"No. I'm all good. Thanks again." Kirsten looked like she didn't know how to say goodbye, either, worrying her lip between her teeth. A small solace.

"If you do, give me a call. You've got my number," I said as I got into my truck.

It was all I could do not to look in my rearview mirror. Instead, I kept both eyes glued to the road. No matter what I saw in that mirror, it would be bad. Either she would be hurrying inside without giving me a second glance, which would make my wolf—and, all right, a part of me—sad and upset. Or, she would be gazing longingly down the driveway, watching me drive away. That option made my wolf happy, and deep down, the part of me I didn't want to admit to would have been excited by it as well.

I left it up to my imagination.

I was sure once I got home, I'd be able to put Kirsten to the back of my mind. Unfortunately, the opposite proved to be true. All the way up to the pack run, I thought of nothing but Kirsten. I replayed the events at the cabin over and over in my head, nitpicking every dumb thing I'd said, every mistake I'd made, and everything I could have done better. Worse than that, I did my level best to try to read into Kirsten's reactions to everything. Had she felt the same connection? Did she notice that weird electric charge whenever we touched? Had the arousal I'd smelled on her been real or wishful thinking?

Wishful thinking? What the fuck was wrong with me? She was a witch. It didn't matter that she was beautiful or that she hadn't been the one to curse me. She was still a witch, and I couldn't look past that.

Could I?

At the pack run, I was called on to speak to our members. I made some sort of speech, everyone cheered and clapped, but I had no idea what the hell I'd even said. At least it was good, apparently.

Kirsten's face was emblazoned in my mind. Those eyes, the lips, that body.

Waylan must have noticed there was something wrong because he sidled up next to me before everyone shifted. "You good? Seems like your head isn't in it tonight?"

"I'm fine," I growled, casting my gaze up at the full moon. "Let's get going."

Waylan regarded me strangely. Not like he was offended by my abrupt attitude, but more like he saw through my show of irritation to what I might actually be thinking. That alone pissed me off more than anything.

The pack shifted, a wave of men and women slipping from their human bodies into the lithe and lean forms of wolves. Brown, gray, red, and black, padding silently into the night. I joined them, relishing the freedom and release that came with shifting. The wind rustled in my fur as I ran along with my pack. For several minutes, my mind was gloriously clear, and I lost myself in the scents of the forest, my pack, and the world beyond.

Not long after, the howling started—at the moon, to signal that prey had been spotted, along with playful yaps as friends pounced upon each other. It was everything I'd hoped it would be. The whole pack charged through the forest until we crested a ridge. I stopped to rest, panting, tongue lolling from my mouth. Below the ridge, my eyes latched on a slight orange glow far down in the valley. Crestwood was on the far side of a hill to the east. This was a lone light. A single building. Kirsten's cabin.

Pulled by some unknowable, inescapable force, I left my pack, padding down the hill toward the house. My fast walk eventually turned into a full sprint until I stood at the edge of the forest in front of the cabin. I could move through the ward now, but then I'd be visible. Instead, I stayed hidden in the undergrowth and tree branches, watching, waiting, hoping to see her again.

Soon, my wish was granted. Kirsten walked past the kitchen window, talking on the phone while munching on a slice of pizza. At the sight of her, my wolf whined and pressed me to go to her. If he'd been in charge, I'd be slamming through her door. It took more effort than I wanted to admit to keep him under control, especially when I was in wolf form.

I was so intent on watching her that I never noticed the scent or sound of the wolf sneaking up on me. Waylan nudged me from behind, and I yelped. I twisted around and snarled at him.

He shifted back to human and squatted down. "I thought you might come this way. Figured our lovely Ms. Holly might have been why your mind was elsewhere. Seems I was right," he whispered with a knowing grin.

I growled again, but this time, it was at myself. I could only imagine what I looked like, sitting here in the forest at night, staring longingly into a window. Some lovesick kid who didn't know how to talk to a girl. Pathetic? Maybe, but I couldn't stop. Something about Kirsten intrigued me. More than just the pull of the fated mate curse. More than her being a late-blooming witch. It was something I couldn't even describe.

I padded past Waylan, giving him a go-to-hell look as I did.

He laughed, knowing I couldn't stay mad at him long. He shifted back to his wolf form and joined me as I ran to rejoin the pack. Even then, all I could think about was seeing Kirsten again.