The witch’s tart words sent a jolt through him, making his lion back down, grumbling but compliant. With a start, Dean realised how close he’d been to losing control of his beast. That had never happened to him before. The two of them had worked in harmony from the beginning. His father said he’d never seen anything like it. His mother had warned him not to be complacent. That one day Dean’s lion would challenge him, and he’d need to be prepared for it, or lose his mind to the beast.
He’d certainly done everything he could to prepare, but Dean was starting to wonder if it was enough.
“Thanks, Mrs H,” he said, lowering his head to her. Even his lion understood that she’d helped him, not protesting the movement that placed him as under her. Less. Lower.
“You’re a good beast, Dean,” she said abruptly. “I’d hate to see you go feral. I’m always here to give you a tap on the nose.”
His lips twitched. Dean could just picture it, the portly witch bopping him on the nose with a finger when his lion roared at her, threatening to eat her alive. She’d take it in her stride, tell him not to be stupid, and then ignore his stupid ass until he calmed down. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. Dean couldn’t help himself, the burble of laughter that escaped his mouth was as embarrassing as it was inevitable. He snickered.
Mrs Hardinger grinned at him.
“Welcome back, Dean,” she told him with a wink.
Somehow, he knew it was all deliberate. That the humour was the last thing he’d needed to make him fully cognizant of where he was and who he was with.
Melody was watching him with wide eyes.
“Don’t fret, Melody. It happens to a lot of shifters when they first bond. I guess you’ve never had one long enough, but most of them go through an adjustment of their inner bond between man and beast. You haven’t failed him, so don’t go there. Dean’s lion is one of the most arrogant, stubborn yet placid beasts I’ve ever met. Dean’s never had to wrestle him into compliance, so it’s a bit harder for him right now than usual. But you’ll both get there. Just keep him in the here and now. Let him know what you need, and the two of them will work out their differences in a flash to make sure you get there.”
“We’re not a concierge service,” Asher snapped.
Mrs Hardinger tutted at him. “Of course you’re fucking not. You’re hers. End of story. Just as she is yours. So don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
“Provost,” asked Melody quietly, instantly catching his full attention. Asher stilled too. “Have you heard anything? Anything at all?”
“I’ve not heard of any accolades for you yet, Melody,” the provost said carefully. “I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as that changes. I’ve got high hopes for you. Speaking of which, how are your advanced studies?”
“I’m making progress in botany, Provost,” she said. “I had a moment when nothing was sticking, but then it all started to click, and I’m doing well. Well, at least I think I am.”
The provost nodded. “I’ll check in with your professors again soon. For the good of your coven, I hope that you reach the rank of top of all of your classes. It would bring you all great honour. I could only imagine the opportunities that would arise then.”
Dean shook his head. The woman wasn’t saying anything against Bestia, yet they all understood the subtext. Melody was likely to get more offers if she could improve her marks. She needed to advance, to learn and to achieve.
It was just like Mrs Hardinger had said. Whatever Melody needed, he would provide it, or die trying. His witch needed him, and he would answer her call.
13. Melody
The waiting was going to kill her, she was sure of it, and if it didn’t kill her, it would certainly end up killing both of her familiars. Every day Melody attended classes, studied until her mind was numb and slept for fitful hours between, and still there was no word from the provost or Professor Ludwig.
Things weren’t looking up with Carla either. Now she not only sneered openly at Melody, but sometimes she joined in when they harangued her. Quinn looked more miserable than ever, but he refused to talk to her when Melody caught him alone for a moment.
The Apex had picked up on her agitation as well, all of them becoming irritable. Arguments broke out over the smallest things and the atmosphere in the cottage became thick with tension. It got to the point that Melody sent them all back to the shifter dorm after dinner, except those who were due to tutor her for that evening, because she couldn’t cope with any more negativity.
In desperation, she turned to Mrs Hardinger, but without being able to tell her what had her so agitated, the older witch was unable to help. They both knew what the situation was, and nothing had changed. They would have heard of it straight away. Still, the sense of impending doom was beginning to crush her spirit.
Mrs Hardinger recommended that she get more sleep, and applauded her for sending the argumentative shifters home for the night.
“Part of the issue for them, is that they’re desperate to challenge you,” she held up her hand as Melody opened her mouth in protest. “It just means that they’re more irritable than usual. Add to that the fact that they’ll be sharing their witch with a bunch of other shifters, something that none of the dunderheads probably ever considered, and that there’s a threat hanging over you, and oh yes, the fact that you’re
