129: Out of Place

LOGAN

My antsy fiancée scooted closer to me until our thighs were pressed against each other’s, then she looked around the room cautiously, rubbing her hands together like a brainstorming villain.

“We should leave now, before she says our star signs aren’t compatible and we’ll face eternal doom if you get married to me instead of your mate,” Ashley whispered doubtfully, she’d been doing so for the past ten minutes.

We were seated on a straw mat, but that was the only thing that seemed ancient about the living room we were in. The rest of it was furnished with high quality modern furniture and ornaments, so it didn’t look like the home of a sorcerer.

“I drove seven hours to get here because the jet makes you nauseous on your period, if you’re not going to go through with this for yourself, do it for me and my aching arms that drove all evening,” I tried to reason with her.

“I’ll massage them in the hotel roo—”

“Ashley, this sorcerer came highly recommended by Alphas in high places that