An Alpha and a witch, one cruel, one kind. Who will win and who will lose in this mateship? Will they come out of it hand-in-hand or part ways when the truth is revealed?
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A week crept by before I regained my full strength.
And that meant Alrik would finally take me out and stop teasing me with the plans he had for us.
All he had told me was that we would be moving a lot so I had to wear comfortable clothing, which was why I was waiting outside with a pair of sweats on as Alrik disappeared into his garden shed momentarily.
"Are we gardening?" I asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of my feet, "Although I have to warn you, the only thing I'm good at is pulling weeds. It's a great way to release frustration."
He chuckled and popped his head around the door, "I love your enthusiasm, but we're not gardening. I don't trust anyone with my garden, not even my parents or Reece."
"What sparked your interest in it?"
He kicked the door to the shed shut, revealing two axes in his hands, "I honestly don't remember. I mean, I started off with a fascination with trees before I worked my way up, but I don't quite remember why I got into trees. Botany just feels like a hobby that I've loved since birth."
"I can tell," I nodded, staring at the intricate formations of flowers and herbs, "There's no way this was a hobby that started a few years ago, and it's amazing how you keep everything so alive. Look at these stunning flowers."
I crouched in front of a flower bed, and Alrik kneeled beside me, "Any one in particular that catches your eye?"
"The pink tulips, for sure," I said, gently brushing my fingers along the vibrant pink petals as I inhaled the sweet scent. Alrik pulled a pair of clippers out of his pocket and pried a tulip out of the ground before clipping the bulb and a portion of the stem off.
"For you, kroshka," he bowed dramatically, offering me the tulip.
My heart warmed, and a broad smile formed on my face as I curtsied in return and plucked the flower from his fingers, "Merci, mon cherí. What does kroshka mean?"
He blinked, "Maybe I shouldn't tell you. You'll probably chew my ear off for it."
"Why? Did you call me slut or something?" I joked, knowing very well that he hadn't.
"Well," he scratched the back of his head, "In my experience, women don't like being called little."
"It means little one?"
"Basically."
I opened my mouth to defend my size but froze when I stared up at him, realizing that I really was small from his point of view.
"I'm not even going to bother," I said, shaking my head.
He smiled and handed me a pair of gloves that he pulled from his pocket, "Good idea. Now, put these on so you don't get blisters when you handle the ax."
I abandoned the tulip on the bench and yanked the leather material over my fingers, "What are we chopping up?"
