Page 31 of The Blood Witch
I growl internally.Do not tell me this dude has a girlfriend or, worse, a wife.
My smile becomes a fraction more brittle as I work to keep it plastered on my face. “Um, prize?”
Saxon’s features crumple with concern, and he leans toward me. “I’m taking the look on your face to mean that you didn’t understand how the competition worked, what was at stake?”
I shrug, thinking back to what Rogan said to me about it. The purpose was to knock the person on the stump off. You couldn’t use magic, and the winner gets something. Longing filters through me as I visualize the coveted jackalope antler that was almost mine.
So close.
And then I realize what Saxon is saying. “Wait. Nora? Like, as in a person...named Nora?That’swhat was at stake? You were competing for a woman?” I ask, my voice getting fractionally higher with each word spoken.
Saxon cringes infinitesimally, and I try to bring my tone back down to a decibel not offensive to lycans or nearby dogs. My heart slams against my ribcage like it wants to escape. I can’t even blame it for trying to fly the coop, this last week and a half has been a serious test of our cardiac health.
“It’s not what you think,” Saxon defends, and my stomach drops.
Men should just never utter that statement. It sends every woman’s bullshit meter right off the charts. I lean away from Saxon, my expression teeming withI’ve heard that before.
He shakes his head adamantly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I know what it sounds like, but let me explain,” he pleads.
Lassitude tugs at my soul, and I try not to sigh or feel fed up with the opposite sex all together. I want to spend a night working off a little stress with a decent dude; is that too much to ask? I resist the urge to throw my head back and demand answers from the universe, and instead address Saxon. “I’m listening,” I encourage, but I’m not holding my breath that what he’s about to say is going to make the warning bells stop ringing in my head.
He surveys my face and then nods. “Myfriend,” he starts, really hammering home the emphasis on the wordfriend, “Nora, was getting a lot of pressure from her family to settle down. She thought they’d back off after a while, but the more she stalled, the worse it got. So she came up with a plan. She pitched the idea to her family about having a competition at the next solstice gathering under the pretense that she’d find the strongest candidate that way. And then she asked if I would buy her a little more time by winning.”
I wait for a beat for him to continue, but it seems that’s the explanation in its entirety, and I can’t help but feel like he’s ignored some vital and concerning points. “Okaaay,” I hedge, sorting through the flood of questions streaming through my mind. “So you were going to marry her? Was that what was going tobuy her a little more time? Also, why couldn’t she just say no, that she wasn’t ready to settle down, and that’s that? Why all the hoops to climb through or should I say stumps to stand on?”
I almost chuckle at my own joke, and then horror seizes me as understanding seeps into my bones. “Oh shit! I knocked you off the stump, so does that mean she had to marry someone else?” My eyes get even wider. “By stump law, amIthat someone else?” I add, panic making my eye start to twitch and my mouth grow dry.
Did I just accidentally throw some girl to the wolves all because I wanted a jackalope antler?
Saxon chuckles, and I shoot him an unnerved look. “Lycan culture can be a bit archaic. Not all families are like that,” he reassures me, “but there are some that believe strongly in alliances through marriage. Males outnumber females four to one, and some families believe that a female’s most important duty is to make a prosperous match and breed stronger lycans. Nora’s family is pretty old school.”
“Okay, so does that mean same-sex marriage is out? Was I automatically disqualified then?”
“Well, technically you didn’t knock me off the stump,” he declares, a saucy glint in his eyes.
I open my mouth to defend that I pretty much did when I realize what he’s getting at.
Rogan.
He technically was the reason Saxon stepped off the stump. I cover my mouth with my hands, shocked. “Does that mean Rogan is engaged and doesn’t know it?” I ask through my cupped palms, ignoring the swirl of anger that spins through me with the question.
Saxon’s nostrils flare, but I’m too stunned to call him out about this whole smelling me thing. “Riggs declared Rogan the last man standing, so to speak, but since he didn’t stay to continue the contest until every lycan had a fair chance, the competition was put on hold.”
“So what happens now?” I demand nervously as I tamp down the swirl of conflicting emotions running amuck inside of me. I shouldn’t care. I know I shouldn’t. And yet, there’s no ignoring the flicker of emotion that wants a Nora-the-Lycan beatdown.
“Well, Rogan will be required to come to the next gathering and defend his claim. If he doesn’t show up, then he’ll be open to challenge by any lycan, anytime, anywhere.”
Amusement trickles through me at the thought of random lycans picking fights with Rogan while he’s grocery shopping or trying to go to work. Some might call that poetic justice. Now, if I can just keep him in the dark so he doesn’t see any of this coming, then we’d have a real knee-slapper on our hands.
“So, I guess one way or another, Nora bought herself some more time,” I point out with a laugh as I digest everything he just told me.
He chuckles, a brazen gleam in his golden eyes. “She’s very satisfied with the outcome. She now has the extra time to implement the second phase of her plan,” Saxon agrees.
The bell over the cafe door rings, and it pulls me from our focused conversation. I look over to see colors painting the sky as the sun starts to tuck in for the night.When did it get so late?
“So, does that mean, if you had won anyway, that you’d be a taken man right now?” I query, my gaze returning to Saxon’s, the question once again hanging between us.
I watch him and realize that I’m not sure what I want the answer to be, or maybe the real issue I’m having is that I don’t know if I care. I wouldn’t pursue anything with him if he’s with someone, that’s not my style. But as I wait for his answer, I realize that there’s no apprehension speeding my heart, no unease or lurking threat of disappointment at the possibility that nothing might happen between us.
