Chapter 4

Lisa

The tables were more sparse towards the edge, the crowd thinned, most everyone pushing towards the front of the garden where Lacey stood hand in hand with Fin, trying to politely dislodge herself from the crowd.

My eyes landed at the farthest table, only drinks spread across it. Just behind that stood the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on.

He was tall, well over six foot. He had dark brown hair, the perfect mix of messy and styled, like he had run his hands through it many times but it still looked perfect. His shoulders were broad, his frame solid, the kind of build that made it obvious he could hold his own without even trying.

He had tanned, almost golden skin, covered in intricate black ink designs that I couldn’t pull my eyes away from. The markings wrapped around his arms, disappearing beneath his sleeves, curling up toward his collarbone. They weren’t random, I could feel that much even from here. As my eyes slowly trailed up his body to his face, they connected with emerald green ones, the telltale sign he was with the coven.

Lucille buzzed inside of me, practically bursting with excitement as the wind blew the man’s scent towards us, filling my nose with that perfect citrusy pine. It hit stronger this time, richer, deeper, wrapping around my senses until it was all I could focus on.

My heart stopped.

“MATE.”

The word slammed through my mind so hard it stole the air from my lungs. “No,” I whispered instantly, my head shaking before I could stop it.

No.

That wasn’t possible. Not just unlikely. Not rare. Impossible.

“A witch,” I breathed, the realization settling heavy in my chest.

Hybrids existed. I knew that better than anyone. Lacey stood at the center of everything we had rebuilt, proof that two bloodlines could exist in one body and not tear the world apart. Her grandmother’s lineage, her power, her control… she had made it possible for everyone to accept something they never would have before.

But she was the exception. The only one.

And even now, even after everything she had done, there were still whispers. Still fear. Still people who watched her just a little too closely, waiting for something to go wrong.

That kind of existence wasn’t normal. It wasn’t common. And it sure as hell didn’t come from a fated bond. Wolves and witches did not find each other like that. They didn’t snap into place like this.

There were no stories of it happening now. No real ones, not ones anyone trusted. Just old myths, things people said existed before the world broke, before the war, before numbers dropped so low most people couldn’t even find their own kind anymore.

This didn’t happen anymore.

It couldn’t.

Lucille surged forward, her excitement turning sharp with certainty. “Our mate.”

“No,” I pushed back harder, my jaw tightening. “That’s not how this works. That’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

It didn’t matter that witches sat on the council. It didn’t matter that we stood beside them, fought with them, built something stable out of something that used to be impossible. That was structure.

This was instinct.

And instinct didn’t lie.

Which was exactly why I couldn’t accept it.

My chest tightened, the pull wrapping around me, pressing in, dragging me forward even as my mind tried to reject it. If this was real… if this was what Lucille was insisting… then it changed everything. Not just for me. For all of it.

“Lisa,” Lucille warned, low and unwavering. “You feel it.”

I did.

That was the problem.

It was too strong. Too clear. Too certain. It didn’t feel like confusion or magic interference or anything I could explain away. It felt like something locking into place, something that had always been meant to happen whether I wanted it to or not.

I hated that.

I took a step back instead.

Pain flickered through me instantly, sharp and wrong, like I had just gone against something I wasn’t supposed to. My breath hitched, my hand twitching slightly at my side like it wanted to reach forward and fix it.

My eyes snapped to his. He had felt it. His expression shifted, just for a second, something darker flashing behind his eyes before it disappeared.

Good.

That made it real.

That made it something I could fight.

“This isn’t real,” I muttered, the words coming quicker now, more desperate. “It’s the crowd. The magic. There’s too much power in one place. It’s interfering with things.”

Even as I said it, I knew it sounded weak, like I was grasping for anything that would make this make sense.

Lucille growled low in my mind. “You are lying to yourself.”

“Maybe I am,” I shot back, my jaw tightening. “Or maybe you’re wrong. Maybe this isn’t what you think it is.”

“I am not wrong.”

She never was.

That certainty hit harder than anything else, because it left me with nothing to stand on. The pull tightened again, stronger, more insistent, like it refused to be ignored.

And still…

I looked at him.

That was my mistake.

Because the second our eyes locked again, everything else faded. The noise of the crowd dulled, the music blurred, the world disappeared. It was just him. Just us.

He was watching me like he already knew. Like there was no doubt in his mind, no hesitation, no questioning what this was.

Like it was simple.

Like it was real.

And that made something in me crack.

“How are you so calm?” I asked before I could stop myself, my voice quieter than I meant it to be, edged with frustration I couldn’t hide.

Because I wasn’t calm.

I was barely holding it together.

His brow lifted slightly.

“I’m not,” he said simply.

I frowned, my breath uneven.

He took a slow step closer. Not enough to touch, but enough. Enough that the space between us tightened, the pull reacting instantly, surging stronger like it approved of the distance closing.

“You’re just louder about it.”

My breath caught.

“No,” I tried again, weaker now. “This isn’t… this can’t…”

My words broke apart as my gaze dropped briefly to the markings on his skin, then back to his eyes.

Witch. Mate. Unheard of. Impossible.

“This doesn’t happen,” I whispered.

“It just did.”

Simple. Certain. Unavoidable.

And that was the worst part.

Because I didn’t know how to fight something that wasn’t supposed to exist. The bond didn’t care. Lucille didn’t care. And the longer I stood there, the harder it became to pretend that I did.

My fingers flexed slightly at my sides, the urge to move forward building again, stronger, harder to ignore. My body leaned before I could stop it, just barely, a subtle shift that still felt like too much.

Everything in me was starting to give.

And I didn’t know how much longer I could keep pretending this wasn’t real