Sebastian didn’t go home. Instead, he sat in the darkened doorway of a closed shop near the only other car parked on the street besides his own and waited.
He’d f****d up. More than a mistake of underestimating the shifter’s strength, he also hadn’t bothered to use a seduction spell of any kind. He hadn’t needed to, but it would have given him control over the situation. And now, cut short as he was, he’d not done anything to fog the wolf’s memory, hadn’t even thought about it, so when M woke up he’d remember him—what he looked like, that he was a witch—and his guard would be up.
Hugo would have been ashamed of him and he would have been justified. It would be nearly impossible to try and question M again. And Sebastian was even more convinced now that M was exactly who he needed to talk
