Chapter 11

ELEVEN

Drogo

We've been riding all day, and all I can think about is Tara. I've never felt this way about any woman in my life. Like I'd be willing to tear off my own skin just to be with her. Every inch of my body is in pain from spending the day tensed and miserable, trying not to look at her. Ignoring my hard cock every time I do.

It's like she has me under her spell.

I'd almost had sex with her. There hadn't been a question. The moment I'd touched her, I knew I was finally going to have her by that river. And I would have, if she hadn't asked me that question. If she hadn't shaken me free from her spell.

Fuck.

This has to be magic. It's got to be a love spell, because that's exactly what this feels like. Like love. Like she's my mate. Even my damn wolf aches to be near her.

But I can't trust her. She's a witch. A witch who claimed not to be able to do Battle Magic, but then did it right before our eyes.

Lies. Witches always tell lies.

I have to shake this all-consuming feeling that I need her away and stay on my toes when I'm around her. I can't slip up with her again, because I don't think I could survive that if I did. I'd have to bury myself inside her, and then all our careful planning would be ruined. We'd be tied to the witches, and the bears, forever.

The plan. I have to stick to it. No matter what.

"We should set up camp here," Garrick says.

Like he's in charge. Which I hate.

And yet, this is the smartest place to camp. I would have suggested it myself, if I wasn't so lost in thought. About Tara. Again.

After another full day of traveling, we've reached the base of the mountains. We shouldn't start climbing in the evening. Yet, I don't like it. I hate being this deep in bear territory. Things could get ugly, fast, with an attack from the bears while we have our guard down.

I don't trust any of them, starting with Garrick. Sure, he fought the monster with us, but that doesn't change my feelings. He's a bear. And a bear doesn't change its claws.

"This looks like a good place," Arlys says, and gets off of his horse.

Following his lead, I dismount, and we all lead our horses to a nice open spot, surrounded by trees. The sound of the river flowing close by hums in the distance, and birds chirp. It might be nice, if we weren't in a fight for the lives of our people. If we weren't with a bear and a beautiful witch.

Our stuff is unpacked. The horses are cared for. And a fire is built up. I unroll my pack and set up my area to sleep tonight. Rinan and Arlys do the same. Garrick sets up his and Tara's packs next to each other, and I fight the urge to demand to sleep next to her myself.

But who am I kidding, sleeping next to her would be hell.

But having him sleep next to her is a different kind of hell.

"I keep seeing carvings on big rocks on the ground. What are they? Do they mean something?" Tara asks Garrick.

Like he's the only one who can answer. Like hell.

"Those are markings left by wolves in places where our kind was murdered by the bears," I answer for him, knowing he won't give the real answer. Let Tara see the truth. All they do is kill and maim, and they direct their violence towards us.

"Bears took just as many losses in those same battles as the wolves did," Garrick says, directing his comment right at me.

I can't stand this asshole. He waltzed in here, forced us to let him marry our wife, and now he has the nerve to talk about bear losses? I want to break every bone in his face.

Leaping to my feet, I close the distance between me and the damn bear. "You have some nerve," I snarl, getting in his face and baring my teeth.

"No, you have some nerve. Painting us as savages when your losses are all on our land." Garrick puffs his chest out and bares his teeth back at me.

"If your people stayed off of our lands, we wouldn't have to come to yours . You don't know anything about loss. We have lost so many of our people, and bears are always the aggressors," I shout.

He glares. "Bullshit. I've lost a number of good men to the wolves. And now, that's not the only thing killing us. My cousin just died from the Illness. And two others are sick right now. Don't tell me about loss. I know what it feels like."

Tara gasps and concern fills her eyes. Rinan and Arlys stop what they're doing and stare at Garrick, mouths wide. In all this time, the bear hadn't mentioned anything about this. Why? And why tell us now?

I reach for my anger, trying not to be distracted by his words. "Ok, and? Your two cousins are still alive, and we might be able to save them. I lost two brothers to the witches and their Battle Magic. The same Battle Magic Tara here said she just realized she can use." My blood boils, thinking about how Tara could still be playing us. How all of this might be some big ploy.

I walk over to her, curling my hands into fists. "All witches are evil with your spells and magic. I saw what you did to that monster. And I've heard all the stories of what you've done to my people!" I'm nearly shouting the words, not caring about how her face crumbles with each word I say.

She deserves it. She's one of them. I only trust wolves.

Garrick is the first to step in, of course, placing himself between me and Tara. Next, Arlys and Rinan step in, pulling me back. It's a shitty feeling, knowing I'm losing control over my temper again, yet not being able to stop myself.

"You can't blame her for what her people have done," Arlys argues with me, maintaining his grip on my arms. "I think she's shown herself to be different from her people time and time again."

Rinan gives me that look. The one that makes me feel like I'm an inch tall. "All witches aren't the same. You know that as much as you know not all wolves are the same."

Garrick doesn't say anything. He just stands in front of Tara and stares at me with murder in his eyes. Like he's her protector. Like he needs to protect her from me , which he doesn't.

"What about her love spell?" The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

She peeks from behind Garrick, looking small and unsure. "Witches can't do love spells."

Of course she'd say that, because otherwise she'd have to admit the truth. She used her magic on us. That's the only reason Arlys, Rinan, and I feel the way we do. Because of her damn spell that has nearly left us on our knees, begging for her.

"The hell they can't!" The words explode from my mouth.

Garrick smirks. Fucking smirks . "There's no spell, asshole. I hope you're going to enjoy reaping what you sowed."

Tara looks confused. "Reaping what he sowed?"

Garrick half-turns, pulling her against his body, against his body , smile still in place. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm just talking about yet another way this wolf is a moron."

I try to leap at him. Arlys and Rinan keep me back, but my pulse is racing. My head is swimming. We both know damn well what he's saying, even if Tara doesn't understand. He thinks I'm really in love with her. He thinks I'm being a fool, and that I'm going to lose the woman I love.

He's wrong. She's a witch. Witches killed my brothers. I can't… love a witch. It's impossible.

"Maybe take a seat for a minute," Arlys says softly in my ear.

"Have a drink of water," Rinan adds, and I realize everyone is staring at me.

I look at each of them, all shifters like me, siding with a witch and ganging up on me for speaking the truth. I don't need this. Turning, I walk away, not wanting to face them again tonight, needing some space.

"Drogo!" Rinan calls after me.

"Just need some air," I shout back, because otherwise I think he'll follow me.

I walk around the mountain base until the sun sets completely, and I'm sure they're all asleep. Weary from travel and the betrayal I was dealt, I head back to camp, my thoughts swimming around Tara and the hurt look in her eyes.

It's true I don't completely trust her, but I'm starting to wonder if that has less to do with her and more to do with my own screwed-up past, and that's a shitty feeling. I would never want to lash out at someone who doesn't deserve it. I just wish I could know for certain if she deserved it.

Will I ever know the truth about the tiny witch?

When I get back to camp, the four of them are tucked in under their own blankets. The men form a perimeter around Tara. Something I don't understand draws me to lay next to her, so I gently step between Arlys and Rinan and crawl into the blankets with Tara. Her warmth immediately makes me feel calm. She's so comforting and soft; it's hard to stay away from her, no matter how hard I try.

I watch her sleep, her pretty face relaxed as she breathes ever so softly. She's the picture of peace. And faced with her it's impossible to ignore the truth. I can't blame her for what her kind has been doing to mine for decades. She didn't kill my brothers. She wouldn't do that. I know that deep down, even if it hurts less to cling to my anger.

Tara contradicts everything I know about witches, and I don't know how to handle that, but I need to figure out a healthier way than what I've been doing, because it's not working. I try to dismiss the thoughts of my own stupidity from my mind, and instead hold Tara tighter.

I close my eyes. But sleep doesn't come easily; my mind races on, wondering how I can hate all witches and be in love with one at the same time.