The Bound Witch (The Osseous Chronicles, #3)

by Ivy Asher

I’m in gear, pulling out, and then shooting down the road in less time than it takes Hoot to rip a fat one. Gah, I can’t wait to see that stinky little fucker.

“I’ve never seen so many people use bread as a weapon,” Rogan observes, clearly referring to the French bread beatdown I gave Prek before. “It’s a skill; feel free to be jealous,” I smirk at him. “One passed down in the Osseous Chronicles, I’m sure,” Rogan teases, and my smirk turns into a dopey smile. I like playful Rogan.

He reaches out and wraps one of my curls around his finger, his gaze heated and filled with so much promise and conviction it makes my toes curl. “Will you go to war with me, Lennox?” he asks, his tone sultry and earnest.

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to war we go.