“Shut up!” I scream.This is too much. Way too much.“I can’t be mated to a werewolf! I have a mission. I can’t… I don’t…”
This is a nightmare. It has to be. But the pulse of foreign magic beneath my skin, the phantom pressure around my wrists—it’s all terrifyingly real.
“Mated?” The word escapes my lips in a strangled cry. My hands shake violently as I rake them through my hair, tugging painfully at the roots. “No. No. This isn’t happening.”
Bast pulls against his bonds, and a strangled whimper tears from my throat as phantom pain lances through my wrists. I stumble backward, crashing into his dresser.
“Stop!” I scream, my voice raw. “Just…stop!”
“Bridget, please,” Bast pleads, his eyes wide with concern. “Let me explain. We’re physically bonded now. What I feel, you feel, and—”
“Shut up!” I roar, slamming my fist against the wall. Pain blooms across my knuckles, and I watch with sickening fascination as Bast winces. “This isn’t real. It can’t be real.”
My breath comes in ragged gasps. The room tilts and spins around me, reality fracturing at the edges. “Take it off,” I demand, thrusting my wrists toward him. “Whatever sick magick of yours this is, undo it. Now!”
“I can’t.” His voice is maddeningly calm. “The bond is permanent and once we fully seal—”
“There is no ‘we’!” I shriek, the last slivers of my control snap. A surge of wild magick pulses through me. The lights in the room flicker ominously. “This was supposed to be simple. A one-night stand. I can’t be…be tied to some fairy-tale monster!”
I pace the room. My eyes dart around searching for an escape, a weapon, a spell book, anything to make sense of this nightmare.
“Bridget,” Bast starts again. “I know this is overwhelming, but—”
“Overwhelming?” I laugh, the sound bordering on hysterical. “You think this is just overwhelming? My entire world is imploding, and you’re talking about some mystical bond like it’s a gift? Like I should be grateful?”
I whirl on him. “I don’t want this. Any of it. I just need to find Meredith Banfield. That’s it. That’s all I’m here for.” I start picking up my clothes from the floor and pulling them back on. Pants first.
“You’re here looking for Meredith? Fucking hell.”
His reaction sends a fresh wave of panic through me.What else does he know? What else has he been hiding?The walls seem to close in, and I struggle to breathe, my chest tight with fear and fury.
“What?” I growl, yanking my T-shirt down over my head.
Bast’s expression hardens, his earlier concern for me is replaced by a dangerous glint. He yanks against the sheets, ignoring my wince of pain. “That’s why you fucked me, isn’t it?” he snarls. “To get to Meredith? You were just using me.”
I take an involuntary step back.
“You’re from the New England coven,” he spits out. “The ones she was running from. Christ, I’m such an idiot.”
My blood runs cold. How does he know about the coven?
“Where is she?” I demand, trying to keep my voice steady.
Bast laughs, a harsh, bitter sound that sends chills down my spine. He jerks against his bonds again, harder this time. I cry out as searing pain lances through my wrists, but he doesn’t stop. The sheets begin to tear.
“Meredith is dead,” he growls. “She died protecting my family.”
The world tilts on its axis. My legs go weak, and I grab the dresser to steady myself. “No,” I whisper. “That’s not possible. They would’ve known.”Wouldn’t they?
If Meredith is dead, my mission is a failure. TheMathairswill be furious.My sister…oh god, my sister. What am I going to do?
“Believe it. There’s even a memorial for her at the Faire today.” Bast snarls. With a final, violent tug, the sheets give way. He’s on his feet in an instant, advancing on me with predatory grace. “Now, you’re going to tell me everything. What the fuck are you really doing here,witch?”
I throw my hands up and shout an attack spell. Bast flies across the room, his body slamming into the wall with a sickening thud. The impact rips through my own body, stealing my breath. My ribs scream in protest as we both crumple—him to the floor, me to my knees. The shared agony clouds my vision for a moment, but survival instincts cut through the pain.
I force myself up, ignoring the phantom ache in muscles I didn’t hit, and bolt for the bedroom door, my bare feet slappingagainst the cold hardwood. With trembling hands, I cast another spell, sealing the bedroom door behind me.
The kitchen swims into focus. My purse, sitting innocently on the counter. I snatch it up and look around the room for my shoes. I don’t remember where I took them off… “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I chant, a litany of panic.
