Roman Eliot

Twenty-eight:

Roman Eliot

This was always the difficulty with witches as mates. There was always someone coming after them for their power. Nora’s parents had been killed by a shapeshifter because her family’s coven hadn’t wanted her mate to be a werewolf. To be him. Now, there was some warlock trying to claim what was his. He wouldn’t let that happen.

When she woke, gasping, and told him of the dream he’d had it took everything in Roman’s power not to shift then and there. The wolf inside of him wanted to chase after Merrick Maddox and tear him to shreds until there was nothing left but his blood and bones. Instead, he listened to her, then they got up and dressed.

Together, they went to his study. “Aion’s off with Lucy trying to find someone to help us with getting Winters enchantment taken off. But I thought we could talk with Ares about his brother, like you mentioned,” he told her.

“That’s good,” said Nora, “because I actually have