CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

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“I’ll get back to you on that,” Thorn growled. The prospect of suddenly dropping down dead, be it by the witch’s hand or fates, wasn’t at all appealing to him.

He’d found his mate – witch or not – he needed to shake off the funk and be happy.

“No rush — maybe nature will just take its course, and we’ll both get lucky,” Martha snapped back. Two could play his game.

 Mason leaned in toward the old alpha, and the man turned to eyeball him with a whole heap of suspicion. “You do remember that you’re supposed to be wooing your mate — don’t you?”

Thorn took in a deep breath, bit down on a long list of curse words like he was counting to ten, and slowly released that breath. “Oh — joy.”

“Nobody is asking you to be here, you old buzzard — there’s the door,” Martha said and tossed up a hand to show him the way.

“Now what kind of a mate would I be if I didn’t bite down on the sour taste of having a witch mate, and at least try to stomach the prospect?” Thorn growled. It was true — he didn’t relish the thought of having a witch for a mate — but, she was a feisty one, and that he did relish.

He’d waited a long — long time for his mate. He’d never settled for another, never had a family of his own, pups, but he’d reveled in his pack’s happiness for the ones that had found their mates — had pups, and he’d been content.

Now fate had thrown him a curveball. Just when he’d finally settled into retirement — the prospect of being alone for the rest of his life was daunting — and he was rushing toward that end at what felt like an alarming rate — it had felt to him lately like there was unfinished business to be had.

Now, there she was, all snappy one-liners and zap-happy, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at their lost life together. If only he’d met her thirty-forty years ago — how things could have been different.

Mason’s eyebrows slowly lifted up his forehead toward his hairline. Even if Thorn couldn’t see what he could see on the elder witch’s face — the man had still taken his life, his balls in his hands — not literally — and hit Martha where it hurt.

Yep, Mason could see that the elder witch was boiling up toward the point where she might just explode. The man either had balls of steel to challenge his witch mate in that way and risk losing her — or, he truly had gone senile.

“You,” Martha let that word roll around her tongue for a little bit. Her mind was sharp, even through the alcohol, and she was locked and loaded on him like a heat-seeking missile. “I might not be a catch — but, you’d be out of your depth with me in a puddle.”

“Now,” Thorn let that word roll over his tongue for a moment, as he mentally bent over and kissed his backside goodbye. He needed to filter. He needed to get in the game and get his brain in gear.

He wasn’t miffed at her — he was damn angry with fate and all those wasted chances.

“Stomach the prospect?” Martha rumbled those words like they were a growl stuck in the back of her throat.

Thorn’s beast paid attention. The wolf didn’t care if she was a witch or not. The wolf didn’t care that fate had dealt them a bad hand — their mate was him now, and he wanted his mate.

The beast growled within him. It warned and reminded him of the ultimate goal.

Mine …

Mason took a big sideways step away from old alpha as the thought of self-preservation rallied deep within him, he had his own mate to safeguard his balls for, and he wasn’t about to get the fallout from Thorn’s stupidity by mistake.

Thorn flicked a look in Mason’s direction, there was sympathy, and a grimace etched on Mason’s face. Yep, Thorn mentally bent over and kissed his backside goodbye.

“Now, don’t go getting all bent out of shape, sweetheart,” Thorn rushed out, between his beast and Mason, he knew he needed to do a little damage limitation.

“Sweetheart?” Martha’s eyebrows reached skyward. “Don’t try to backtrack like a coward…”

“Coward!” Thorn growled, and his beast rose up within him, not at her words, but at the man that had caused them.

“Is anyone else predicting World War Three?” Jai asked, temporarily distracted by the elder mates from his own wooing. If he didn’t have a mate of his own to worry about, to woo, then this would have been the perfect popcorn moment, but he did – so, it wasn’t.

“At least we’ll always know where we were when it started — my kitchen,” Bree said with a small wince.

It might have been her spell that had put the mates together, but she certainly wasn’t responsible for anything that followed. But still, there was a tweak of guilt within her.

“You heard me!” Martha growled back. When in Rome.

“Oh, I heard you, woman,” Thorn growled as he fisted his hands at his sides and considered doing the unthinkable — then he went and did the unthinkable.

 

 

~

 

 

“I’m too old to be carried like a sack of potatoes!” Martha bit out as her upper body swung against his back. There was his backside right in front of her – talk about temptation — she could pin the tail on the donkey and enjoy every second of it. “Have you lost what little sense you were born with?”

“Since meeting you?” He hummed on that one. “Yep.”

“Well, put me down before I…”

“More threats?” Thorn growled as he reached his pickup truck and thrust his hand out to open the door.

“Nope!” Martha snapped back and zapped his backside so hard that his eyes snapped wide open, his whole body tensed with the pain of a thousand suns, and he made a sound like Scooby Doo — as he dragged in all of the oxygen, he could get his lungs and yelled at the top of his voice.

“Yeeeeoooowwwwwiiiieeee!” He slammed his palms against the frame of the truck and braced his body so that it didn’t go down. If he went down — she’d end up with a wake-up call to her brain. That might not be such a bad thing, but on the other hand, it was a tempting prospect.

Jon twisted his head on his neck, folded his arms around himself, and lifted a hand to cover the big, wide grin on his lips as he watched the elders at war — otherwise known as wooing.

He noted when Mason came to stand beside him, but couldn’t bear to tear his gaze away from the elders just in case he missed something really good.

“I’m guessing that hurt,” Mason chuckled.

“Been there…”

“Done that…”

“Set fire to the damn T-shirt…”

“And miraculously lived to tell the tale.” Mason chuckled harder.

“More importantly — we managed to woo our mates,” Jon said.

“Wanna lay odds that she kills him?” Mason asked.

“The next time that you zapped me there had better be a damn good reason for it,” Thorn growled out.

“Oh, you’re male — there’ll always be a good reason for it,” she snapped back.

“I’ll take that bet,” Jon grinned.