Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Luther’s POV

*****

Montecito, 8:22 AM

"Do you think we shouldn’t have left till she woke up?" He swerved his head to his brother as they walked out of their first stop since they came to town.

A gun shooting range, owned by an Alpha wolf with big respect for Luther.

Silas shrugged, munching on a burrito in his hands. "Azrael and Atlas are there with her."

Heat crawled up Luther’s neck, making him tear his eyes from his brother.

The streets weren’t too crowded and most people were busy minding their business. Unlike the last time they were around these parts.

"I know that," Luther murmured, tugging at his jacket. "It’s just, it feels... Like we’re avoiding her. You know. After last night and all."

’You mean it feels like YOU’RE avoiding her?’ his wolf never failed to come at him in times like this. ’Silas wasn’t the one who brought up the idea of searching for activities. You did.’

’Thanks for the obvious.’

’Someone has to be your pair of emotional glasses.’

"Avoiding her?" Silas repeated the word with a frown. "Why would we? Do you... Regret what happened—?"

"No!" Luther yelled before the question even landed properly. He faked a cough, bringing his head down when he noticed a few people glancing.

Then he lowered his voice: "I–I don’t necessarily regret anything that happened. It’s just... It’s almost embarrassing to think about. All of us. In the same room."

Even saying it out loud made him feel like he had a microphone in front of his mouth.

Goddess forbid people overhear and start looking weirdly.

In contrast to Luther’s spiral, Silas wasn’t just calm. He laughed, wrapping an arm around Luther’s shoulders. "You, my dear brother, are overthinking when you shouldn’t."

That only made Luther’s frown deepen. "I feel like you’re the one who’s not thinking enough about this."

’No, no, no... Your brother’s got a point.’

Just when Luther was about to curse at his wolf, his phone dinged with a notification. He unhurriedly pulled it out, surprised when he saw a text from Atlas.

>"Hey, Luther. If you boys haven’t gotten too far could you get me these herbs and spices from any metaphysical store? There should be a few run by witches."< Read the message.

Then came a list of over ten ingredients that made Luther scowl. "And now Atlas wants us to get him witchy ingredients. For whatever reason."

Silas stretched his neck to his phone. "Oh? Let me see." After skimming through the message for a few seconds, his brother chuckled. "I think I spotted a metaphysical store on our way to the gun range. Let’s—"

"The last thing I feel like doing right now is shopping for potion materials."

"He’s making us breakfast as we speak, Luther." Silas patted his back. "Come on. Show a little gratitude."

He does show gratitude.

When he compliments the food.

But seeing there was no way out of this, Luther grumbled. "Lead the way then."

’You’re such a crybaby.’

’Shut it, furball.’

.

.

After walking for five minutes or so, they finally stopped in front of a store.

Mama Dominique’s Metaphysical Services.

Sounds like a hooker lounge.

Silas moved first, opening the French doors while Luther reluctantly followed behind. A bell rang above, signalling their arrival.

An influx of various scents and smells was the first thing to hit the Alpha’s senses. The store was spacious but the amount of shelves and cabinets containing witchy items made it feel cluttered.

It was lit by a soft golden chandelier above, and a counter sat at the end of the store. On a wall behind the counter was an entrance shielded by beaded curtains.

And standing behind the counter was an elderly woman in her sixties who immediately raised her head when they stepped in. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Luther found himself getting uneasy under the scrutiny of her hawk-like eyes. Her hair was grey and cascaded behind her, decorated with beads and shells.

She also wore a shabby green robe, gemstone-encrusted necklaces dangling off her neck.

"Ah, visitors," she was the first to speak, her wrinkled face lighting up with a welcoming smile. "I haven’t seen any all morning. Come in, come in..."

They moved forward at her urging.

Something about her made him feel like she was more than she seemed. If that even made sense.

’That’s just post-nut clarity speaking.’

’You little—’

"Good morning, Ma’am." Silas wore that smile he always had during business deals. Except this one had just the right amount of warmth sprinkled in it. "We’re here on behalf of a friend. He sent us to get some items."

The old woman smacked her gums, nodding. "It must be destiny that made you stumble into my store. Out of the tens in this town."

Luther’s brows furrowed.

Tens?

She seemed to notice his shock. "A lot of travellers—humans, wolves and even witches—don’t only come here to unwind. They also come here seeking answers. Some semblance of... Control."

That last word did a lot of heavy lifting.

Control.

Because it tied in to the last note they got before coming here in the first place.

Or was he finally losing it?

"Anyway," the woman clapped once, snapping Luther out of his reverie. "Is there a list? I assume your friend is a witch. And we witches don’t get only one item when shopping."

Silas gestured at Luther who waved his phone. "There’s indeed a list. Do you—"

"Follow me." She walked around the counter. "I’ll walk you to each item as you call them out."

Luther forced a smile, trailing beside the woman while trying to read through his phone. They got to a shelf filled with spices and he was about to call out a name—

Only for a burning sensation to pulse through his arms, making his phone fall out of his grip. "Argh!" He hissed, clutching his arms. "W–What the...?"

There were no marks or injuries. Just a lingering feeling like there was fire searing his veins. Doubled with that, the bond reverberated with heavy emotions.

Confusion. Fear. So much fear.

All from Celeste.

"Silas?" He barked, ignoring the concerned look the old woman gave him. "There’s a problem. With Celeste."

From the look on his brother’s face, he wasn’t the only one who felt it.

Bloody hell.