Page 33 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

“You’re staring at my decorations like they pissed all over your favorite tree. Wolves do that right? Mark up their favorite trees? Then get mad when another one tries to mark over it?”

He stared at her like she was crazy. “I wasn’t⁠—”

“Let me guess. You’re one of those.”

“Those? The fuck?!”

“The holiday grinch. Someone who hates decorations.”

“I don’t—” But he cut himself off. Because while he didn’t hate them—he didn’t fucking like them either.

“So I guess you won’t want me bringing any with us to, you know, lean into the holiday spirit.”

“What holiday spirit?”

“Autumn?”

“Autumn isn’t a holiday.”

“Halloween is.”

“None of these decorations are spooky.”

“The bats⁠—”

“You think bats are spooky?” He gaped at her.

“Oh, my God. It’s… It’s the principle of it.”

“Right. Don’t you have some packing to do? Not—the decorations.”

She made a scoffing sound and stomped away.

His gaze fell on the enclosure at the side of the room where she occupied herself. “I’ll need to pack everything up for them.”

That was when he processed exactly what he was looking at.

“God, woman, how much crap do they have?” There were toys and boxes and…was that a fucking castle?! What the hell had he gotten himself into?

It was dark by the time he turned his truck up the lane to his cabin. Two hours, mostly spent packing up the bunnies’ belongings and hustling them into a carrier. It had only taken Rebecca fifteen minutes to pack enough clothes and toiletries for herself.

He bit his tongue to keep from commenting on that little fact.

A sense of giddy unease made his gut tight. He’d never brought anyone here. Sure, he got the occasional random person who thought to knock on his door for directions or deliver a package. But no one had ever been invited into his home.

He stole glances at her when her face was turned toward the window. She had Basil and Sage—because of course she would name her bunnies after herbs—in their carrier on her lap. She’d cooed to them nearly the whole drive. Which was annoying, because—and he wasn’t being jealous—he wondered if there was another reality where she’d do the same to him if he were in wolf form.

“Oh.” The word was soft and breathy as she looked up at his cabin. The porch lights were on, casting a warm glow on the surrounding area. Her look could only be described as delighted.

It made something rather annoying happen to his stomach.

He tried to take in the sight from her perspective. An A-frame cabin with a sloped roof to ward off snow in the winter. Large front porch. All glass windows on the front, with another set above to allow an unobstructed view from the loft and second floor. Potted plants hanging along the porch. Two rocking chairs because one would have looked strange, even if the second had never been used. And a padded porch swing on the opposite side.

“It’s…” Her throat bobbed. “You live here?”

“Obviously.”

“Right.” She blinked. “It’s just…like something out of a magazine.”