Bewitched (Bewitched, #1)(10)

The prolonged walk does give me time to think, namely about the freshly lost memories. There’s no way for me to know which ones or how many of them burned away with the spell. That knowledge is haunting—because I could’ve lost something formative or wonderful or important, and I wouldn’t know it. On the other hand, if I don’t know what I’ve lost, it’s hard to grieve it.

I feel a tingle of power along my skin, distracting me from my thoughts. At first, I think it’s the same magic that has been calling to me, just, well, louder.

But it feels different in some intrinsic way. I halt when I see the magic itself. Unlike the indigo power I’ve been following—which even now lingers above me—this magic glints like iridescent dust motes in the air. As I stare at it, the magic coalesces, thickening around me.

My queen…

The compulsion in those words nearly gets me moving again, but I can’t seem to look away from the magic right in front of me. Movement catches my eye, and I lift my gaze just as a massive shadow leaps from the tree directly in front of me, lunging right for my body.

I don’t have time to move or scream. It slams into my chest, throwing me to the ground and pinning me beneath its weight.

Can’t breathe.

A massive set of black paws rests on my sternum, holding me in place. I let my eyes drift up, taking in the silky dark fur that coats the animal’s forelegs and chest. My attention snags on the creature’s terrifying serrated teeth for a moment before my eyes rise the rest of the way, and I meet the amber-green gaze of a panther.





CHAPTER 5





Oh, my fucking goddess on high.

This strange magic led me right to a panther. I repeat, a panther.

I would scream, except my throat isn’t working.

I’m going to get eaten and then shit out by this ferocious hellcat, and no one is ever going to know what happened to me.

Pull yourself together, Selene. You have magic at your disposal. No overgrown pussycat is going to end you, no matter how terrifying it is.

The panther opens its jaws slightly—enough for me to get a whiff of big-cat breath, which is as awful as it sounds.

The panther leans forward, bringing its head close to my face. The entire time, it stares at me.

I feel something then, something that gathers in the very center of my body. It takes another second for me to realize it’s my magic. There’s something in the air—or maybe it’s in my bones—that calls to this creature. It has the same ageless feel as my magic does.

And the longer I look, the more I sense some aspect of myself behind those eyes. My fear is gone, replaced by an instinctual familiarity.

My magic hums at the thought, moving out from the center of my body and flowing into my limbs. The urge to touch the great cat, to pet it, is nearly overwhelming.

Tentatively, I lift a hand, feeling my power gather in my palm. My inner skeptic is still positive this is where I die, but my intuition is saying something different, and I trust it above all else.

The magic coiled in my palm builds, driven by some primeval witchy instinct. It makes my flesh tingle and causes my fingers to twitch a little.

The panther closes the last of the distance between us, pressing its face into my outstretched hand, as though desperate for the touch of my magic.

And that’s exactly what the creature gets.

Power bursts from my palm at the contact, turning the air around us a glittering pale hue of orange. It slips into the panther just as easily as a breath of air, and I feel it connect. Something deep within me snaps into place then, magically linking me to the creature.

I stare up at the big cat as it gazes down at me, its face still pressed against my palm.

After a moment, it moves from my hand, leaning in as though it needs to get a closer look at my eyes. Then, all at once, it gives my cheek a lick that feels like it took off a layer or two of skin.

I reach up and dazedly pet the animal, my hand shaking a little, while inside…inside, I sense our freshly forged bond.

Holy shit, I think I just bagged myself a familiar.





I stare at the big cat for the dozenth time as I brush myself off and get my bearings.

The coven is going to shit bricks when they see my familiar.

Shit. Bricks.

I actually smirk a little at the thought. The phrase “be careful what you wish for” came from witches.

The panther—my panther—is massive. I’d never truly appreciated that about these great cats until now, when I’m standing next to one.

Of all the animals I could’ve gotten matched with, I got this one. He—and uh, dude’s definitely a boy—is much prouder and scarier than the familiar I imagined for myself. To be honest, I was thinking I was more of a chinchilla girl.

Apparently not.

Even now, I can feel the soft hum of my connection to the great cat. It’s a strange feeling, being bonded to another essence—and to that of an animal, no less. It’s like discovering you have an extra appendage, only this one is sentient.

I close my eyes now and focus on that sentience and the bond that binds us together. The longer I concentrate on our connection, the more I feel a pull to slip down it.

So I do.

One moment I’m sensing the magical bond, and the next, I slide into the panther’s mind.

Most of the creature’s thoughts are barred from me, but I can feel his mild hunger, and I sense that he’s otherwise in good health. His strength simmers just below the surface, and inside his head, I feel stronger, more athletic.