Witchful Thinking Read Online Free

alive. Little by little, she nursed him back to health, using her magic to make him forget the details of the witch he’d bonded with until he could no longer recall her face, name, or anything else about her. He survived, but only by a thread, and the fact that he endured the “death” of his bond mate was testimony to Rand’s incredible strength and stamina.
    But there’s more. On my tour de 1878, I met Randduring his initial steps in warlock training. To make a long story short, we both fell madly in love and bada bing bada boom, we had the best sex ever and yep, you guessed it, we bonded. Our happy little tryst didn’t last long, though. Before I knew it, Mercedes insisted that I return to my own time, saying I had to save the world or some other such crap, and I reluctantly had to leave my Rand of 1878 behind.
    If you’re following my story, you probably just figured out the whole thing. If not, let me spell it out … 
I
was the witch Rand bonded with, and my departure nearly killed him. It was a truth that had been hard for me to digest … one I had to share with Rand.
    “What happened out there, Jolie?” Rand asked as he glanced down at me. “Where did Mercedes come from? And why were you wearing my mother’s ring?”
    It was the same question he’d asked me when I died on the battlefield. God, it felt weird to say that. I didn’t imagine I’d ever get used to it.
    I swallowed hard and glanced down at my hand, where I still wore his mother’s ring. Suddenly I wanted to cry over the injustice of it all: Rand had once loved me and given himself to me and I to him. He’d also asked me to marry him and I’d said yes, although I knew all along that I would have to return to my own time. He’d given me his mother’s ring and forced me to promise him that he and I would reunite in my own time. Even as I made him that promise, I’d wondered if I’d be able to keep it; if I’d be able to convince the Rand of today that we were meant to be together.
    “Something amazing happened,” I said simply and racked my brain, trying to figure out the best way to explain.
    Sometimes the best route is the direct one. “I traveled back in time, Rand,” I said slowly, hoping the words would sink in.
    “And?” he prodded, as though my comment was completely understandable. That was one thing I could appreciate about Underworld creatures—nothing really surprised them. When you got hairy during a full moon or had a hankering for O negative, it only made sense that what might be considered unusual by some standards seemed little more than commonplace and ordinary.
    “I traveled back to 1878. Mercedes is the one who orchestrated it.”
    He nodded but didn’t seem to get the gist of what I was saying, so I figured I should start from the beginning.
    “It was wintertime, Rand, in England. Even though it was summer when the battle here began—”
    “About that,” he interrupted in a scathing tone. “You knew I didn’t want you anywhere near that battle, Jolie.”
    Yeah, that was true. But I was stubborn and I’d made up my mind to fight even though Rand had forbidden it. I was determined if nothing else. I’d also been smart about it, though, realizing I would need some form of false identity in order to deceive Rand into letting me participate in the battle. With the help of Mathilda, I had managed to drum up a spell that changed my outward appearance so Rand wouldn’t recognize me. I fought alongside him, alongside our legion, and none of them was the wiser. That was before I nearly died. Once that happened, and I’d been transported back in time, all my careful spell preparations had been for naught because my false identity was stripped from me. Upon my return to my own time, with Mercedes in tow, I was again sans my disguise, and of course Rand had recognized me instantly.
    “Rand, that’s in the past,” I reminded him, not up forbeing chided about something that really didn’t matter