Wolf Spell: Shifters Bewitched #1 by Tasha Black (bearly read books .txt) 📗

Healing?

“Shifters have special healing?” I asked, all thoughts of woodworking suddenly gone from my mind.

“Yes,” he said. “We can heal quickly from most normal injuries.”

“That’s incredible,” I said, trying hard not to get ahead of myself. “Can you heal someone else?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t,” he said, shaking his head.

“How did you become a shifter?” I asked, my mind racing.

“What do you mean?” he asked me, a crease forming on his brow.

“I mean, can someone else become a shifter?” I asked. “You know, like a human?”

“Ah, like in the movies?” he asked.

I nodded.

“No,” he said. “I’m not going to bite you and turn you into a werewolf.”

“But you could, if you wanted to?” I asked.

“Wolves are born, not made,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Oh,” I said, the disappointment heavy on my heart. The colors in the room seemed to fade a little even though I hadn’t used any magic.

“But our children would be shifters,” he told me. “The male ones at least.”

I nodded, not wanting to speak over the lump in my throat.

“If we accept the mate bond,” he added.

His voice was oddly light. Until now, he had referred to the bond as an inevitable end to our time together.

“Come on, let me show you the kitchen,” he said, before I could dwell on it.

I followed him past the wooden table and chairs and through the rounded archway. His big body blocked my view, but when he stepped inside the kitchen revealed itself.

Wooden cabinets were topped with honed stone counters and there was a large window over the sink. Hand-carved open shelves housed fresh produce and seemingly endless glass jars of spices.

“This is lovely,” I told him honestly.

“The bedroom and bath are back here,” he said, heading through another doorway at the back of the kitchen. “It’s only the one bedroom for now, but one day I’ll add on.”

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of the room. It was the size of the front half of the house with a canopied bed, a wall of large windows and a glass ceiling revealing a jaw-dropping view of the stars. There was a sitting area on one side with a desk and chair and more bookshelves. And there was another crackling fireplace.

It was a far cry from the cramped cave of our first night together.

He led me to the other side of the room and pointed to an open door.

“That’s the bathroom, I tried to think of what a mate might want.”

I stepped inside to find a huge soaking tub and every luxury I could have imagined.

I reemerged, shaking my head in wonder.

“You thought I lived in a cave, didn’t you?” he asked, one eyebrow arched.

“No,” I lied, and then laughter bubbled up in my chest and I couldn’t hide my smile.

“Liar,” he said, shaking his head. But he was smiling too.

I stood in the middle of the room, feeling his pull like a magnet. I pictured the two halves of Lark’s metal ring, clicking together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Come,” he said. “Let’s sit by the fire and talk.”

I willed myself to sit and soak in the warmth. I would not meet his eyes, I would not touch him.

We sat on the fur rug in front of the fire and for a moment, the crackle and hiss of the logs was the only sound.

I swore I could feel his heartbeat, and his own musky smell, mingled with the woodsmoke, was incredible.

“What were your dreams?” he asked quietly, his deep voice playing over my senses. “Before… all this?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again.

I hadn’t thought about dreams for myself in so long. First, it had been worries for Jon, and then this business with magic, and now the mating.

“Is that a hard question?” he asked.

“The last time I thought about my own dreams I was seventeen years old, sneaking out to a party,” I admitted.

“What were you dreaming about then?” he asked.

“Some dumb boy, probably.”

I shook my head and watched the flames dance.

“Lucky dumb boy,” he said.

“I never made it to the party.”

“Why not?”

“I fell out of my window and barely survived,” I said. “I only didn’t break my neck because of my magic, though I didn’t know it at the time.”

“Incredible,” he whispered. “But you didn’t even suspect?”

I shook my head.

“Who would suspect magic? The doctors just said I was lucky.”

“Your world is so different from ours,” he said. “I’ve known since I was a child that it was my duty to guard the magic.”

“Did you like the idea?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Children are rare among the guardians. I was spoiled by the warriors, and they shared their knowledge with me. They were like gods to me.”

“And now?” I asked.

“Now I know they are men,” he said with a half-smile.

It seemed that something dissatisfied him, but it was hard to put it into words enough to ask him about it.

He turned to me while I was studying his face, his eyes meeting mine before I remembered to turn away again.

The air between us was electric. In his eyes I swore I could see universes colliding.

“Bella,” he murmured and reached for me slowly, as if giving me time to run.

But I had forgotten how to do anything but crave his touch.

He cupped my face in his hand and ran the pad of his thumb over my cheek in a featherlight caress.

I felt my insides melt and clench with need.

His thumb brushed my lips next, and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by even that slight sensation.

“Bella,” he groaned and when I opened my eyes again, he was leaning closer, his lips inches from mine.

His eyes were so blue they almost seemed to be made of icy fire. I could see the pain that his restraint was costing him, and the wonder at what our closeness felt like.

I felt it too, the indelible bond and pull, as I heard the voice in the back of my head begging me