Isabel's Choice

Chapter 40 - Isabel

Our ceremony didn't take place as soon as my Alpha would have wanted to have it.

Ayn's intervention had convinced the Witches' Council to drop their charges against me, but they instead targeted Lars. And Sven. By calling them to do a true craft test every week.

The first time when this happened, my Alpha and his brother assumed the Seven from across the River were just trying to shit on them for the Red incident. It had gotten the Witches in so much trouble with the other subspecies, that some retaliation was almost understandable.

„Why are they calling you?" Ale asked rhetorically as we were telling our mates goodbye at the River Border.

"Because we are unbelievably strong," Sven grinned, raising a flaming claw in front of Lars's face. My Alpha extinguished it with a raining fist, adding:

"And never use our powers responsibly."

They came back the next day, pleased with their performance. But then another summon came, also with less than a day's notice, also with no other reason than „routine request per the Witches Council's laws."

"Bro, what the fuck did you guys do?" Eino jumped to the logical conclusion and it was very hard to blame him. These were Lars and Sven we were talking about, the two-thirds of the brotherhood that seemed to have every day in the calendar associated with a bigger or smaller crime.

"Just what they asked us to," the Alpha clawed frustrated at his neck. "Seriously, we have been on our best behavior.  Ayn thinks it's because of the pressure the Shifters put on the Witches to come clean about the Defenders. Maybe raise some."

"So what, are they trying to dry the pool? Annoy you to the point where you renounce your magic cores?"

"Annoy us, destabilize our packs, ruin us financially...in this order," Lars smiled, but it looked awfully forced as if the Witches' plan was already working. He was annoyed.

And so was Sven, when he arrived on our territory, clad in a bloody shift suit,  the fattest joint hanging from his lips.

"Here. Your formal attire made by my Luna," the Eagle Rock Alpha smirked, throwing Lars a t-shirt. On the front side, it had the picture of a humanized and very obviously male donkey, blowing a kiss. My Alpha doubled over with laughter, but then he bit his lip and shook his head.

"Bro. We cannot. We'll get in so much trouble."

"Bro. We are already in trouble just because we exist. If you don't put it on, I will. I'll remove my pants though because I have to keep constant the number of clothes I wear. Get in the car."

Miraculously, they made it to the Witches' Plains and back alive.

Less than five days passed before they got called again, and I got very annoyed.

It was impossible to set a date for our bond celebration, not knowing if the witches weren't going to want to see my mate exactly on that day. And we had both underestimated what marking our fur side first would do to our ability to be away from each other. It was physically painful, and our wolves were getting crazily aggressive when we were apart, jealous of everything that moved. During Lars's last trip I had almost killed an unmated female and her friend because I overheard them gossiping about my Alpha's looks.

I tried to convince my mate that I didn't care about the ceremony anymore. We could just mark each other on a random Wednesday. Seal our bond right there at the River Border, against a tree or the back wall of the coffee shop.

I didn't say this last joke out loud. I was however pleasantly surprised that I had been able to think about it, because, even if our bond felt safe, its magic had certain limits.  My body responded to Lars's touch as soon as Owen's mark disappeared. My brain however did not instantly forget the association between mating and pain. I was a little bit scared that the actual lovemaking won't be as enjoyable as the kissing and more or less indecent cuddling sessions we had in the last weeks.