SableI shake my head and latch on to his arm. “No, I think I’d like to shower first, if that’s okay. I feel gross after…” I wave vaguely at the bed, indicating the fact that I’ve lain there for three days, sweating like a pig through my transformation. I feel so gross, I’m worried he can smell me.Luckily, Archer doesn’t need me to put that concern into words. With a nod, he secures his arm around my waist and walks me to the bathroom, moving slow so that I don’t keel over.My legs are weak from being in bed for days, and the tingling in my feet makes it feel like I’m walking on pins. Archer takes as much of my weight as he can without physically lifting me off my feet, and I lean against him gratefully. I don’t know how he seems to anticipate my needs the way he does. He has a deep sense of empathy and compassion, but the way he reads me goes beyond even that sometimes. It’s like he can peer directly into my brain.In the small, narrow bathroom, Archerdeposits me on the toilet seat

SableAs he steps out of the tub and tugs the curtain closed behind him, I notice a ripple of blackness coloring the scars on my hands and arms. It happens so quickly that I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t looking right at my skin.Fear washes over me. Even though Archer, Ridge, and Trystan stayed with me despite the witch transition, maybe they shouldn’t have. Maybe Dare had the right idea by leaving. The black magic churning inside me means I’m a danger to them all. I’m a witch—not a wolf. No matter what the shifters think or what Elder Jihoon’s magic sticks said or even what my soul wants to be true. I’m a witch, and I’m terrified of what that means.I close my eyes and focus on taking a few deep breaths of humid air, the way Archer has coached me to do when the panic gets to be too much. After a moment, my fear lessens, and I open my eyes to see the black marks fading away. And I did it all on my own. I grin and flex my fingers a few times, silently congratulating myself on a jo

TrystanWhile Ridge and Archer carry food and dishes to the table, I find a short glass in the cabinet and pour her a cup from the carton in the fridge. I don’t want to overwhelm her with too much to drink after three days without. We managed to get little more than a sip in her here and there during her more lucid moments, so her body is likely in starvation mode. But I don’t want her to not have enough to drink either.My indecision ends up with me pouring way too much in the small cup. I pick up the overflowing glass as carefully as I can, but I still splash orange juice on the floor multiple times before I set it before her, a little lighter than it started out.“Thank you,” she says, giving me a smile that makes it all worth it. She makes no comment on how full it is as she lifts the glass to her lips.Ridge throws a dish towel on the orange juice puddles. I should thank him, but I’m too busy staring at her.I take a seat across the table as Ridge brings over the finished eggs an

SableHis hard torso anchors me to the present. I lean against him and bury my face against his t-shirt, taking a couple deep breaths until the lump in my throat fades and the tumult of magic inside me calms. Ridge’s scent surrounds me—woodsy and spicy and uniquely him.It’s one of my favorite smells in the world, and it was even before the man himself came to mean so much to me. Now, I think I’d bathe in his scent if I could.Finally, he pulls back enough to give me a sweet kiss with just enough heat behind it to make me forget how awful I feel. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s go help Dare.”Inside the cabin, Trystan and Archer have already stretched the injured shifter out on the couch and are back in the kitchen, digging around for supplies. Archer’s filling up a bowl with hot water and soap, while Trystan’s rifling around in the pantry.“Doesn’t this stupid cabin have a first aid kit?” he gripes over his shoulder as we appear in the doorway.“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom,” Ridge r

sableMy cheeks burn. Hearing them list all the ways in which I’ve been in danger makes me feel like a weak little kid who shouldn’t be allowed to do anything without supervision.From his place near the coffee maker, Archer goes on, switching gears. “Obviously, Dare’s leg is a situation that needs addressing,” he says, crossing his arms. “But we also need to address that there’s a very real chance Dare has witches on his trail now.”Ridge scrubs a hand down his face. “Dammit. I didn’t even consider that.”I sit up straighter, a pang of fear rolling over me as I process what Archer’s implying. “You mean witches might be following Dare here?”“I’m not saying it’s a definite,” he assures me, “but it’s a possibility. He specifically sought them out to fight them. To kill them, not to make negotiations. They aren’t going to just sit back and accept that level of threat. He’s put himself, and all of us, in serious danger.”“Please.” Trystan scoffs. “The witches won’t be able to step foot o