Page 37 of Fake It ’Til You Mate It

Chamomile makes sense. Like Abigail said, it helps with nerves. Nightroot powder is a little different. My grandmother has a very small jar of it. Deep violet when the normally blue leaves are ground down, just a pinch is enough to activate ‘dream’ spells. I don’t mess with those. I’m only a quarter-witch, and they are well out of my league. Dream spells are a supe’s answer to human drugs. They lift you up, and if the witch casting the spell knows what they’re doing, they’re harmless; if the witch doesn’t, the crash is brutal.

A tea with those four ingredients would have you smiling and at peace as you shuffle your way off the mortal coil so long as you’re a supe. One mug means death.

In Abigail’s case, not even a full mug did.

And she gave me a sachet.

Did she mix this herself? She was a doe shifter, but I know better than anyone that you can appear to be one thing while being something else. I faked being a full witch for months when I’m three-quarters opossum. Maybe Abigail had witchblood, too, but if she did? It didn’t save her.

If I was a tea drinker, it wouldn’t have saved me, either.

“I didn’t make that. I mean, Abigail gave it to me last night. She said it would help with the nerves that prey shifters get living in a town full of predators.”

“Nerves?” Max cocks his head slightly. “Do I make you nervous, Killer?”

Yes, but not the way he thinks—especially when he growls a little as he calls me by that nickname. Since this is the worst possible moment to mention that, I shake my head. “I didn’t plan on drinking that tea. Not a florally tea person here.” And even if it didn’t have a strong scent—thank you wolfsbane—I’m not a fan of chamomile… or dying “If I knew it was poisoned… I would’ve told Abigail not to drink it, either. But she said she made it.”

“If she made it, she must have known it was poison,” Max muses, letting me off the hook when it comes to answering his question. “But she drank it.”

“Doesn’t mean she wanted to. Doesn’t mean someone didn’t swap out a clean batch for poison.”

He nods, thinking over my suggestion—and then he frowns. “But she would’ve still tried to poison you.”

Yeah. It’s kind of hard to deny that part.

“And that’s why you’re coming with me.”

I don’t understand. “But I didn’t do it! You can’t arrest me.”

Max firms his jaw. “I’m not arresting you. I’m taking you into protective custody.”

Protective custody, as it turns out, means being ferried away to the heart of Moonshadow Pack land, and given a spare bedroom in Max’s Alpha cabin.

He gave me a minute to argue before pulling the Alpha card. He doesn’t even go straight to being Sheriff Lobo. He’s Max, the most powerful wolf in Moonburrow, and if he wants to keep me safe, he’s going to keep me safe. His wolf insisted on it, and when his dominance poured off of him, I didn’t even bother to keep up the fight.

Instead, I made it a point to tell him that Gus was coming with me—Max smartly didn’t push back on that—before saying we’d need ten minutes to pack everything we would need for an extended stay. I thought about reminding him that I would need to be back at work tomorrow at five in the morning, but I decided that I would keep that surprise to myself.

I should’ve known better. By the time I had pack two small overnight bags—one with a couple of changes of clothes and toiletries for me, another with everything Gus might need⁠—

By order of the sheriff of Moonburrow, Dough You Believe in Magic will be closed until further notice.

I’d quirked any eyebrow at him, clamping my teeth together.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “This way nobody in town thinks that you’re another victim.”

Oh, no. But they’ll sure as hell figure out that the sheriff has a vested interest in me. For good or for bad, I’m not staying off anybody’s radar anymore.

Go Honey. Whee!

I tried not to pout too much as Max drives Gus and me toward the far edges of Moonburrow. Gus sat on my lap, both curious and wary. I haven’t figured out what Gus thinks of Max yet, though I remember the way that Gus was letting Max pet him.

Hm. Maybe my sidekick was showing me a hint of his approval, too.

I honestly didn’t believe that Max was really going to put us up in his actual cabin. That’s… I know enough about a wolf pack that what he’s insisting on… it’s unusual.

An Alpha cabin is more than just a house for the pack leader. It’s a symbol of his position at the top of the pack. Wolves think of their hierarchy as a triangle. The Alpha is the point at the top. Next comes the Beta, followed by Gammas, the older enforcers that have retired after protecting the pack. Deltas make up the bulk of a wolf pack; they’re the rank-and-file members with varying levels of dominance.

In Moonburrow, there is one final tier: everyone else. Specifically, prey shifters and witches, since no matter how powerful we might be in our own ways, the wolves will always see us as weaker than them.