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I did not love Phil. Not even a little. What was I doing with this guy? He was human. He knew nothing of my real life. Even the physical aspect of our relationship had taken a huge nosedive. And it wasn’t all that to begin with.
Shit. I really needed to break up with him. I’d told him in the beginning, this would not be a forever kind of deal. He’d thought I was issuing a challenge, playing hard to get. But he had to know I didn’t love him. And he sure as fuck didn’t love me. We hadn’t even had sex in months! I grabbed my phone and scheduled a reminder for later that week.
Break up with Phil.
What? Don’t judge me!
I was bound to get sidetracked by family shenanigans, and this had to get done. Shivering in earnest, I checked the time. What the heck was going on? Fifteen minutes had passed, and the temperature was dropping.
I thought about the welcome I would get when I walked into Harbor House and my Wolf perked up. A long while had passed since I’d come home. Ever since Davian and Erryn, my adoptive brother and sister-in-law, had taken to globetrotting, it seemed kind of pointless. Sybil and Nova were busy with their own lives, and I was doing fine with my law career, living in the Big Apple.
Some life, huh? I was living the dream, or so I told myself. But the truth was my Wolf was out of sorts and my powers were wonky as fuck. The second I got the call from Davian asking me to come home to celebrate the birthday I shared with our two sisters, I knew I was going to say yes.
How could I say otherwise? My big brother did everything for me. For all of us, really. Davian Harbor was a saint. Okay, maybe not a saint. He was a Witch. But he’d raised Sybil, Nova, and me after our foster mother, Mama Anne, passed away, and that meant a shit ton of sacrifices on his part. He wasn’t perfect, but none of us were, and Davian loved us just the same.
When Erryn came into our lives—literally from another world—we were struggling a bit. But after they took care of a couple of goons who wanted to hurt us, Davi and Err put all their strength into raising the three of us. But that still wasn’t why I said yes to coming home for a visit.
It wasn’t out of obligation. No way. That was a copout, and I was not into lying. Not even to myself. I was coming home because I needed to recharge. My life was going according to plan, but lately I had started to wonder—what if the plans were wrong? What if I was supposed to do something besides help wealthy businesses cheat the government?
Did I mention I worked in corporate law? It was challenging at first and fun, but lately, it seemed to have lost its appeal. My Wolf yearned for something else, and the way I kept setting the sheets on fire at night—because of bad dreams not super smexy times—all pointed to one very obvious thing. I was homesick.
Our little makeshift family was anything but normal, and that was exactly how I liked things. But coming back to Maccon City? That left me feeling kind of iffy. I had a complicated relationship with the town where the biggest, baddest, and most powerful Werewolf Pack in the entire world had its headquarters.
See, back in the day, Witches were a big no-no to those guys. The problem was, I was one of those guys. A Werewolf, or Wolf Shifter. But only half. The other half of my DNA was pure Fire Witch. Of course, that sort of magic was something most covens feared, and therefore hated.
So, there you have it. Outcast on both counts. Hated by Wolves. Feared by Witches. I was left to rot on the outskirts of town, which was exactly where Mama Anne had found me almost thirty years ago to the day. God, I missed her. She was the kindest, most giving person I had ever met. Her example was a strong one, and somehow, I felt that I disappointed her with my life’s choices.
Before I could get too maudlin, however, an enormous, cherry red pickup truck pulled in behind me and out of the driver’s side came the tallest, widest man I had ever seen. He had a thick scruff of beard covering his face, a skullcap pulled down tight over his head, and a pair of reflective sunglasses covering his eyes.
Wolf, my inner beast growled, having sensed his animal before I even had time to register, he was coming towards me.
The stranger wore a thick, hooded sweatshirt. It was one of those brands people who worked outdoors favored, and it molded to his powerful chest and arms perfectly. He had dark blue jeans on his long legs and work boots, and the prints they left on the snow-covered ground had to be at least twice the length of mine.
“You gonna come out or what?” he asked, his Jersey accent brisk and no nonsense.
Fuck. I startled hard, grabbing my chest before I remembered myself. Motioning for him to step back, I opened the car door and gasped as the freezing wind whipped against me.
“Did Davi send you?” I yelled above the noise of the traffic and bitter January weather, and the man nodded.
He hadn’t backed up a step either, which meant I had to push him a little with my hip to wiggle out of the car.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled, and the man bent down.
“What for?” he growled.
Damn, but that accent of his was so familiar. Jersey natives tended to drop r’s sowhat forbecamewhat faw, and so on. It took me a really long time to get rid of my accent, which was a necessity in the legal world. I bet I’d have it back in an hour, being home.
Sexy voice. Good body.
“Oh, just—hey! Did you just sniff me?” I asked, shocked at his bad manners.
I knew the Macconwood Pack had stopped its ban on Witches and magic, but that didn’t mean I liked this big, strange Wolf sniffing at me like I was a bag of Cheetos, for fuck’s sake.
“Smell good, sweetheart. Got any bags?”
“Yes. Two in the back, and I am not your sweetheart,” I growled, stomping my way to his truck.
I stopped short, certain I heard him say “not yet” but when I glared at him, he totally ignored me. I noted the stenciled logo on the truck door and frowned.
