The Witching Moon: The Witches of Redwood Falls - Book 1 Read online

  Waking with the sun, Poppy still glowed from Drake’s kiss. Sleep had come easily, and she’d savored the wicked dreams she’d envisioned during the night. But with morning came unpleasant thoughts as well. As wonderful as last night was, as much as she’d enjoyed being with Drake in that way, he wasn’t her mate. No matter how much she cared for him, longed for him, nothing could change that fact.

  Drake’s proposal was sound. She didn’t know who her mate was, how to find him, not even what he looked like. Until she did, she’d enjoy her time with Drake, because for once, she’d do what she wanted. Something selfish. Something that wasn’t dictated by a cosmic force. After years of fighting it, this was her chance to be with Drake.

  Not wanting to think of it any more, she set a kettle on the stove for tea and organized all the ingredients she’d need to make lavender lotion. She’d been gifted in herbs, and she’d worked to hone their uses, not only in magic but in therapy as well, since she was a girl. If she happened to add a regenerative spell, or a touch of something for relaxation to aid the herbs, well, so much the better. She financially supported herself with her concoctions and was grateful she’d been able to.

  By the time Drake arrived, the ingredients lined her counter as neat as any surgeon’s tools. His muscled body leaned against the door frame, a brow raised at her supplies. She tried not to drool.

  “I thought you were going to wait for me.”

  She shrugged playfully, lightening her mood. It was either that or jump him. “That’s what happens when you sleep in.”

  He snorted. “I hardly think 8:30 in the morning is sleeping in since I’m here and dressed.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I was hoping you’d feed me.” He grinned wolfishly, stalking toward her. “I can tell you exactly what I’m in the mood for.”

  She gasped when he lunged for her, wrapping her in thick arms. His kiss was hot, possessive. Everything she’d dreamed. Everything that had tormented her during the night.

  She arched against him, relishing his touch, his taste.

  He came up for air, tucking her head under his chin. She grinned at his racing heart. “Now that’s the way I prefer to say good morning.”

  “Good morning,” she breathed out.

  He released her, even if he did so reluctantly. “Come on. Let’s get started or else we’ll never get it done.”

  A grin cracked her face. He was adorable. He valued her for who she was, not just for how she made him feel physically. After being friends for so many years, she’d known this, but loved that nothing had changed in the last few days.

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  She tossed her head to the counter. “Slip around to the other side by the pestle. I’ll have you start on the lavender sprigs. I’m running low on lavender oil, and I’ll need to replace what we’re about to use.”

  “You make your own oils?” He ground the herbs she placed in the stone. “How did I not know this about you?”

  “Guess you don’t know everything.”

  “Guess not. Anything else I should know?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  Snorting a laugh, she shook her head. “Just keep grinding.”

  “I take it that’s a yes?”

  “Who knows? I’m a mystery, apparently.”

  He eyed her slowly from her head to her toes, awakening each inch of skin his eyes caressed. He finally nodded. “You are. But I look forward to learning all your secrets.”

  Color flushed her cheeks, only making him grin. “I don’t think I’ve made you blush since we were teenagers.”

  She turned away, clearing her throat, blindly reaching for an herb to crush. “It still happens sometimes.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Her mouth dropped open as her eyes darted to his.

  He set the pestle aside. “You’re beautiful, Poppy.”

  She shifted.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just… nothing.” She squirmed under his knowing gaze. She felt raw, exposed. Like he could see all the way to the depth of her soul. Maybe he could. Could he be her mate? This connection between them was too strong, too meaningful. There had to be a reason.

  As she watched him, she started to believe that he might be hers.

  “Has no one ever told you how gorgeous you are?” He whispered. “How incredibly graceful, strong, and sexy you are?”

  She shuttered a breath, shaking her head. “No. Well, yes, I’m sure my parents and few others have mentioned I was pretty. But, it didn’t feel like this.”

  Her words lit up his eyes. “You’re mine, Poppy. Mine. You just don’t know it yet.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t ready to agree with him, to concede. Still, her heart recognized his words as truth. The realization shook her.

  As if sensing her struggle, he turned a back to grinding. “Do you need the powder finer than this?” He angled the stone toward her.

  “No.” She cleared the lump in her throat. “No, that’s perfect.” She poured the powder into a cloth, tightly securing the material before setting it in boiling water.

  “That’s all you need?”

  “Yes. It’ll boil for several hours and then dry out before I can finish the process.” She threw on a stained red apron, the ruffled pockets holding oils she’d need. “Let’s start with the first batch of lotions. They’ve ordered ten more eight-ounce bottles of lavender lotion, a variety of soaps, and more rose shampoo.”

  “Like the one you use?”

  “Yes. It’s quite popular.”

  “I didn’t know you sold that.”

  She sent him a wry smile. “I told you, I’m a woman of mystery.”

  “You did.” He grinned, leaning over the counter to watch her mix the ingredients. Occasionally she needed something from his side and he’d hand it over to her. It was easy, right, being here with him.

  It’d always been comfortable to be around him. They understood each other on so many levels, but this was new. This awareness of him.

  As she stirred the mixture over the stove, she studied him from the corner of her eye. The sunlight that filtered in through the kitchen window teased red highlights from his hair that she’d never noticed. His fingers were smooth, long. Manly. She could imagine them on her body.

  “Poppy?”

  “Hmm? What?” She tore her eyes from his hands to his face.

  “You were staring at my hands. Is everything all right?”

  “Oh.” She rubbed her cheek, hoping her blush didn’t give her thoughts away. Her attempt at discretion had failed. “Yes. I’m fine. Just lost in thought for a moment.”

  “Anything you want to share?”

  She sighed at the glimmer in his eye, at how it affected her. Did he have any idea what was going on inside her body at that moment? She hoped not. “I was just thinking that you had nice hands. They’d be good for casting.”

  “Casting… spells?”

  She bit her cheek. “Yes.”

  “Yeah… I don’t think so.” He shifted uneasily now. “I’d have no clue what to do. I think I’ll just sit and watch you if that’s all right.”

  “Come on.” She set her bowl aside, the contents mixed together. “We’ll do this together. Can you grab those empty lotion bottles over there and line them up here? It’s easy to pour them assembly line style.”

  He did as she asked, and she divided the warm mixture into the bottles. Once full, he moved to cap them.

  She stayed his hand. “No. Not yet. It needs a little something extra.”

  “What’s that?”

  She grinned slowly. “Magic.”

  “You put magic in your products? Does it make people buy more?” he teased.

  She smacked his arm. “I wish there was a spell for that. I’d be rich, and trust me, I’d buy myself a bigger place somewhere much more glamorous than here.”

  His head shook softly. “No you wouldn’t.”

  “No
?”

  “You love this place. You’ll never leave.”

  Her hand stilled, all joking left. “How’d you know that?”

  “Because I know you, Poppy. Have you not heard anything I’ve told you lately?”

  “Of course.” She dusted off her apron, not knowing where else to put her hands. She was worried if he came closer to her, that she’d launch herself into his arms. “I just didn’t know, didn’t realize, that you knew those things. Most guys don’t pay attention to things like that.”

  “When it comes to you, I pay attention to everything.”

  Her mouth went dry.

  “Come on,” he nodded at the bottles. “Let’s finish this so we can drop them off. Then you’re all mine.” His eyes warmed on hers.

  Her heart fluttered as desire wove through her. She couldn’t fight this. She needed him, wanted him. Desired him. “Take my hand.”

  He took it without question. “Clear your mind. Repeat my words in your mind. Focus channeling your energy through your hand and into me. Visualize it. Ready?”

  At his nod, she closed her eyes, her face tilting up. Words floated from her lips like silky wind, calming, soothing the tension in her body. It floated in the air, diffusing in the light, and when it pulsed into the opened containers, she knew she’d succeeded.

  At the end of the incantation, power surged through her arm and filled her. She gasped, breaking contact with Drake.

  “Poppy?” He gripped her arms, keeping her upright. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Her hand went to her throat, struggling to balance her center. “I don’t know. Something happened. I felt this surge of power whisk through me, amplifying the spell.”

  His mouth was grim. “Are you hurt?”

  She tested her weight again, relieved that she was all right. “Fine. I guess it just startled me.” He still gripped her as if he was worried she’d fall. “I’m really fine now. You can let go.”

  He lifted one finger from her at a time. “Why did this happen?”

  She did a mental check over her body. She wasn’t hurt. In fact, she was great. Any depletion she normally felt after a spell was gone. She felt stronger, healthier... just like yesterday’s spell. What was doing on? “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the prophecy and the full moon coming. Maybe my powers are changing.”

  “Does the prophecy say this will happen?”

  Her lips pursed. “No. But I don’t understand what all of it means.”

  “And you still won’t tell me what it says?”

  She wanted to tell him. Wanted to confide everything she knew about it. But something still held her back. She shook her head.

  He gripped the back of a chair, but he nodded. “Is there anything else we need to do for these?” He waved at the bottles.

  His hands shook. He was upset. She couldn’t blame him. If their positions were reversed she’d be mad too. She trusted him. She just wasn’t willing to tempt fate again. “No. Those are finished. The store needs other items, but I have some extra stock in the bedroom I can give them. I can make more later.”

  He turned from her then, and it cut her deep down. She wanted to reach out to him, explain herself, but what good would that do? She still couldn’t tell him what the prophecy said.

  He repacked the bottles into a box and took them out to the car.

  What was wrong with her? Why was she doing this to him? To them? Why couldn’t she just accept this, accept him?

  As they drove in silence into town, she lashed herself with the same questions. Why couldn’t she just follow what felt right?

  Because doubt ate at her. What if he wasn’t her mate? What if her mate showed up and she’d already committed herself to another? That would only end up hurting both men.

  Why was this so hard? She’d always taken comfort in the prophecy. It’d given her hope that there was someone out there just for her. All she had to do was bide her time and he’d come to her. How naive. Life was never that simple.

  She’d been a fool this whole time. Waiting for some knight to show up and sweep her off her feet when she’d had this amazing, sexy, caring, wonderful man in front of her all along.

  After juggling boxes into the store, chatting briefly with the clerk, she marched back outside. She needed to end this limbo for them both. To tell Drake that she was all in. That she was sorry for being an idiot.

  “Drake.” His name felt right on her lips. She stepped in front of him while he leaned against a light pole. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For—”

  “Poppy, is that you?”

  The question, uttered from someone on the sidewalk, jerked her out of the moment.

  Her mouth dropped open as the world spun. “Zander? What are you doing here?”

  He laughed, racing toward her before swinging her up into a hug. “I knew that was you.”

  Once he placed her back on solid ground, her wide eyes glanced from Drake to Zander. “I can’t believe you’re here. When did you get into town?”

  “Halloween actually.” He grinned. “I couldn’t resist visiting for the holiday. Brings back fond memories.” He finally nodded to Drake, reaching out his hand. “Drake. It’s nice to see you. It’s been a long time.”

  Drake swallowed hard before shaking Zander’s hand. “It has. What’s brought you back after all this time?”

  “Oh, you know. It was passed time for a visit.” Zander eyed Poppy and Drake. An awkward silence descended.

  Zander had been here. On Halloween. And he was a descendant of a founding member of the magic community. All the pieces fit. “What did you end up doing on Halloween? Anything fun?”

  Drake’s eyes darted to hers, his jaw clenching. She couldn’t help it. She needed to know.

  “Not much really. I visited with family earlier on and passed out candy. After that I took a walk in the forest. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was.”

  “The forest?” she choked.

  “Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. “I thought I’d go see the stones. It was All Hallows Eve after all. It seemed fitting.”

  The bottom dropped out of her stomach. “But you didn’t end up going?”

  He shrugged. “I heard some people there and didn’t want to disrupt them. It sounded serious.”

  “No kidding?” Drake finally reentered the conversation.

  “Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I have to run. Tell your grandma I said hello.”

  “I will. Will you be staying in town for long?”

  Drake shifted his weight. “I don’t have any solid plans.”

  Drake took Poppy’s arm as he said, “Well, we’ll see you around then.”

  Poppy said her goodbyes to Zander and stumbled away with Drake.

  Why was this happening to her? She’d just started to feel like something was there with Drake. She’d begun to accept it. She may not fully understand the prophecy, but then again, what else could born of magic mean? You either had magic or you didn’t. Unfortunately, Drake didn’t.

  But Zander did. He’d attended ceremonies when they were younger. What he’d done in the last eight years, she had no idea. But did it even matter? He had magic, he was in town on All Hallows Eve, and he’d gone to the stones.

  Her heart cracked. He had to be the one. It lined up. It made sense.

  But why did it hurt so much?

  Her hand fisted at her stomach as bile rose. She had to see this through, had to let go of Drake. She had to fulfill her destiny and accept her mate.