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I open the door—naked, because who else would it be besides pack?—to find a tiny woman dressed all in black standing at my front door and shading her eyes from the mid-afternoon sun.
My throat tightens as I catch her scent. Like Claudia, the tiny woman on my front porch smells vaguely like magic in a way my wolf nose can’t put a word on. And that scent brings back the memories of that awful night.
The Wendigo tearing her to shreds.
I grip the door casing and steady myself, grounding myself in what’s around me.
The scent of fresh paint.
A single crow cawing in the trees above.
The hum of the hot tub motor kicking on out back.
I don’t bother ducking behind the door, but open it wider for her to see she’s interrupting. “Can I help you?”
Unlike Claudia, who had a penchant for a corporate goth aesthetic with high-waisted pencil skirts and silk tops, this witch leaned into the romantic vibes. Bell sleeves made of black lace and a tiered lace skirt somehow don’t overwhelm her small stature.
My nudity doesn’t faze her. “Yes. You can give us our magic back, thank you.” She holds out her lace-gloved palm and points to it as if she expects me to simply drop it in the center of her hand right then.
“Ah, you must be from Laurel Cove. I expected you to get in touch much sooner,” I say, and usher her inside.
She all but turns her nose up at the interior as she steps over the threshold.
“Just move in?” she asks with a disdainful air.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Today, in fact. Which is why a phone call would have been preferable.”
She stares up at me, not something I can ever say a shorty like me has ever experienced before. But even with her smaller size, the witch in all black, covered from neck to ankles, still manages a death glare that tempts me into stepping back a few hundred feet.
I stay right where I am, obviously. This is my house, after all.
“Hey, Willa, who was at the door?” Rafe calls from the hall, appearing behind me. “Who are you?” The growl in his tone isn’t subtle.
“Just the witch left in charge after you allowed your bitch to go off with generations of knowledge.”
“Whoa! What’s with the name calling?” Jonah asks, coming to my other side.
The witch’s eyes bulge so wide, she looks a little froggy. “She is female, and a wolf. It seemed appropriate. And how else am I supposed to take your act of aggression?” She motioned vaguely to the three of us.
“Aggression?” I bark out. “We left to make sure my mate could keep his arm. We weren’t being aggressive.”
She purses her lips, crossing her arms over herself. “I’m not talking about that.”
Jonah steps forward, and in my periphery, he’s one long lean line of bronzed skin. I glance to my other side and, yep. Rafe is also buck naked. “Then what are you talking about? We were told you needed at least a month to observe your funeral rituals. We made every attempt—”
She cuts me off. “Meeting me like this! Ready and willing to shift into your more powerful states at a moment’s notice to keep me from getting what rightfully belongs to my people.”
“Oh! You think—” I shake my head, forcing myself not to laugh and make this even worse. “This isn’t a show of aggression. We’re naked because we were fucking, and we thought you were pack. Nudity isn’t a big deal to shifters.”
The small witch’s frame loosens. Her shoulders fall forward as she lets out a silent breath. “I apologize. I misread the situation entirely.” The witch’s eyes go distant for a moment before there’s another knocking at my door. “That’ll be my brother. He accompanied me to make sure I was safe.”
The witch marches her presumptuous ass over to my front door and lets her brother in.
And my stupid fucking heart stops.
Rafe and Jonah immediately step in front of me, throwing out growls like they’re going out of style.
The witch looks back, confused. She probably says something. I don’t hear it, though. I can’t. I’m locked in this new guy’s eyes.
