Free Sorcha's Wolf by Billi Jean Page A

from you. Nothing you have is of any worth to me.”
    She jerked, feeling as though he’d slapped her. Easily she understood, even if he did not, the double meaning to his words.
    Nothing I offer is what he wants .
    Anger, the simmering cauldron bubbling inside her, rose to a hotter level, too hot it would seem to keep within her. She would leave him and when she did, he’d never see her again. Centuries of longing, of hope, slipped from her but this time, she dashed the dreams aside.
    He called her witch , thought her deceitful and sneaky, yet thought her weak, worthless without her power.
    She’d show him how strong she could be. As soon as she could touch her power again.
    “You know, you really are dense.” The words had burst from her and she kept going,
“I mean I heard you were cold blooded—murderously cold blooded—unfriendly, arrogant and just plain mean tempered, but dense? I’d not heard that.” She paused to catch her breath then rushed on, “But you have with you the most powerful witch in the world and instead of letting me help you, you’ve bound my powers.”
    “I don’t need your help.”
    She laughed. “Against a warlock? Yes, you do. You barely got us clear of those jackals. I nearly got raped because of you! And if you’re dumb enough not to know you need me against a mage, then can you at least let me go before you get wherever it is you’re going? Because, I have to tell you, I’d rather not burn with you because you’re unable to reach your wolf.” She rested her hands on her hips and faced him fully.
    It was true. He hadn’t called on his wolf. She saw that now. If he had, no one could have ever taken her down. No one could have touched her. He hadn’t.
    She’d spun dreams that when she was in danger, finally, his wolf had broken free and recognised her.
    Well, she wasn’t dreaming any longer.
    She was tired. And she was sick of his superior attitude. She hurt. “I mean, I like to suffer with people as much as the next immortal, but only with those I choose to suffer with.”
    “Quiet, witch.”
    “Just tell me what other names he goes by.”
    “Witch, I warn you. I don’t need your advice, nor your help .” He snorted and stepped closer, crowding her with his bigger, more powerful body. “Now, quiet before I gag you again and this time with something a great deal bigger.” He hauled her closer with a rough chuckle. Against her stomach, the outline of his erection burnt, leaving no doubt what his crude attempt at humour meant.
    The meaning behind his words barely registered before she raised her hand and slapped him. His head swung to the side, but she wasn’t finished. With a burst of pure feminine ire, she jumped up, caught the heavy branch above her head and swung her feet directly at his chest as he turned to come at her—no doubt to do more harm.
    He never got the chance.
    He went flying backwards with a satisfying oof bursting out of his surprised, arrogant, sexy mouth.
    Her temper snuffed out as soon as his body made a crashing impact with the forest. Birds took off in a scolding flock, whirling madly above the treetops. She heard him swearing and she winced when branches continue to break until she couldn’t hear anything else in the suddenly silent forest.
    Slowly, she lowered her hands from where she’d covered her mouth. “Holy Danu, protect me.”
    Then suddenly she was free of him. But she wasn’t was she? She was deep in the wilderness of Scotland, couldn’t reach her powers and a pissed off— enraged —Lykae was now going to be after her.
    Worse, there wasn’t a chance of her leaving him like this– not injured, possibly worse.
    She’d check on him first. He was a Lykae, they healed quickly. She’d check on him, then leave him. Just like she had centuries before.
    She exhaled slowly and squeezed her eyes shut, only this time she’d not dream of him, not ache for him. This time, she knew beyond a doubt that he would never be hers.

Chapter