Monday
Heath parked in the main street. “I need to pick up some groceries,” he told her. “I am hoping that now that the pack thinks you are a witch, and the fact that it’s a public place, you will be safe, but I cannot guarantee it. Stay at my side at all times, keep a sharp eye out, and watch your back.”
“Wow,” she looked at him. “You are really taking this seriously.”
“You were shot by a policeman,” he pointed out. “They are not afraid of you, of the Triquetra, of the humans, Aislen. That is serious.”
“That was before you told them that I was a witch, though,” she reached for the doorhandle.
“And is it a coincidence that the moment I tell the pack that you’re a witch, you get hexed?”
“Yeah, actually, I think it is,” she opened the door and stepped out. He mirrored her. “If I was he
