SableArcher’s promise to help me come to grips with the witch magic has lifted a weight from my shoulders.I don’t know how much he’ll be able to tell me. He’s a wolf, after all, not a witch.But I won’t be alone in this.I won’t have to face it on my own.With a slightly lighter heart, I snap my backpack into place and follow the men out to the clearing in front of the cabin. I’m still not comfortable with their current plan of breaking laws and putting other shifters in danger, but now I have a future plan that gives me something else to focus on.I’ll figure out how to master my magic, and how to control it.The sun is high, filling the woods with warmth as we congregate outside the cabin. Ridge’s arm is around Dare’s waist. The injured man hobbles along beside him while Archer carries two bags and Trystan the third. The drugs in Dare’s system have turned his dark gaze glassy and unfocused. It’s haunting to see, but at least I know he’s not in much pain anymore. Once Dare has his

SableThe late afternoon air is hot as we leave the healer’s cabin.Part of me wants to remain behind and keep an eye on Dare. Not just because we’re leaving him half-conscious and with a total stranger—which would be grounds for absolute terror if I were in his shoes—but because I feel somewhat responsible for his current state.But I know if I say that out loud, I’ll get a lot of blowback from the other three men about how it’s nobody’s fault but Dare’s for running out into the wilderness and picking fights with witches.Maybe it’s because I’ve done my fair share of dealing with shitty things in my life, but I’m more inclined to see that Dare’s behavior had a trigger, and that trigger was me becoming a witch. So in a roundabout way, it is my fault. I’m still hurt over him running away, and over the way he’s rejected me even being near him since he showed back up. Mostly though, I hurt for him and the deep, underlying pain he feels over the loss of his pack. I’m not stupid enough to

RidgeWe’re a subdued group as we say our goodbyes to the alpha and leave his house. Some of the levity and politeness seemed to seep out of the atmosphere after Malcolm’s question about whether or not any of us would give up our claim to Sable.Back at the mating cabin, we were able to live in the present, build upon our friendships, and get to know Sable in slow, sweet moments. It genuinely felt like we were just five friends getting to know one another better on a backwoods vacation.But now, back in the real world of the packs, things are different.There’s a definite line in the sand between the world that existed in the mating cabin and the world out here. Archer and Trystan look more like competition and less like friends. And I’m feeling antsy too, with a deep pull to return to my people and make sure everything is okay. Even in my best moments with Sable, I haven’t been able to shake my concern over my brother Lawson and what kind of trouble he might stir up while I’m gone.B

SableI’m not even aware of falling asleep wrapped in Ridge’s arms. But as his warmth and that crisp, woodsy scent so unique to him wash over me, my eyelids fall shut. A short while later, I give in to dreams.I’m back in the mating cabin, standing in the middle of all four men: Ridge, Dare, Trystan, and Archer. I don’t have a care in the world—there’s no magic around us, nothing but the desire rising between us. Ridge’s lips meet mine, and Trystan’s hands move over my bare skin. Dare presses into my back, evidence of his arousal hot against my ass, while Archer places a dozen tiny kisses to my collarbone, moving with agonizing slowness. I close my eyes, my skin humming with need.Then I’m on a bed with them. This is where it changes from memory to fantasy, as Ridge’s naked form rises over me and settles between my legs. I don’t know what it feels like for a man to be inside me, so in my dream, I can’t even make out the sensation. Trystan and Dare are on either side of me, fingers on

sableIt’s just me and him.I suddenly do feel a little shy, but I don’t let that stop me from reaching out and resting my hands on his chest. His pecs are muscular and slightly rounded, and they flex under my touch, as if it’s taking all his restraint to stay still while I explore him. Butterflies flap around in my stomach and my breath picks up a little as I drag my palms downward, feeling the slight prickle of his chest hair against my skin.My fingertips drop lower, tracing the contours of his abs, and when my gaze flickers down to the bulge in his pants, my mouth goes a little dry.He seems so big compared to me. Large and imposing in every sense.My fingers graze the skin below his belly button, following the small trail of hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his pants, and Ridge’s breath catches. I see his hands curl into fists at his sides, but he still doesn’t move, allowing me the freedom to touch him and explore him however I want.Fuck, there are so many ways I w