Page 2 of Magic's Rise

“It’s time for me to go.” Hands pressed against the table, I attempt to heave myself up but only make it an inch off the chair before flopping back down with a groan.

Any movement now, and my stomach will burst.

Jesse checks the clock on the wall and his eyes widen in panic. “How is it already nearly three o’clock?”

Barron walks over to kiss his scruffy cheek. “You’ve been in the kitchen for twelve hours. It’s time to take a break.”

Tris strolls into the room, still wearing his blue scrubs from work at the clinic. In deference to the chill outside, he wears a pink hoodie that perfectly matches the dog collar around his throat, the tag with his name on it framed by the V-neck of his top.

Honey-brown eyes land on me. “Ready for magic class?”

“Help. You’ll have to carry me.” I lift my arms toward him. “I’ve eaten so much pie that I’ve turned into one.”

His eyes crinkle at the edges with amusement, and he shakes his head. “No can do, my tiny apple dumpling.”

My arms drop back to my sides. “Why not?”

“My hands will be full.” Turning to the counter of pies I taste tested today, he wiggles his fingers in anticipation. “Reject babies, come to daddy.”

He opens the utensil drawer and grabs a fork before scooping up an entire pie pan. At the first bite, a hum of enjoyment rises from his throat. “Cardamom. Me likey.”

Jesse’s eyes gleam. “If you like that, try a slice of?—”

“We gotta go!” With mighty effort, I heave myself to my feet. “Magic class waits for no witch.”

“You heard the woman.” Tris takes another pie pan and thrusts it into my hands to carry while he eats the one he holds. “We’re off.”

Jesse trails us to the door like a lost puppy. “You’ll be back tomorrow, though, right? Or I can bring the pies up to the house after your lessons are over.”

“Yes.” Tris points his fork at Jesse. “Do that. Haut made enough stew for an army.”

“Dinner.” Jesse’s eyes widen. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“We’ll be there.” Barron wraps an arm around the larger man’s waist and rests his cheek against one flour-dusted shoulder. “It will be a nice reprieve from ordering pizza again.”

“See you both in a few hours.” With a wave, I grab my jacket before we step outside.

The crisp autumn air slaps me in the face, and I juggle the pie I hold while pulling my scarf from my coat pocket to drape it over my head. “Remind me again why we don’t drive into town?”

“One, it’s not that long of a walk. Two, we need the exercise. Three…” Tris gestures to the booths being constructed on either side of the street. “Where would we park?”

My sigh puffs into the chilly air. “I guess you’re right.”

Jesse and Barron’s house is close enough to the heart of Hartford Cove for it to be surrounded by the festival. When I had first learned of the annual, wolf shifter get-together, I don’t know what I envisioned beyond the pie contest and rumored orgy, but the citizens really go all out.

Shifters have already begun trickling into town for the week-long gathering, which looks like a fair minus the rides. Owen told me there will be booths selling homemade goods, a craft alley, and even games.

The orgy part is just a byproduct of the overall event.

The festival gives wandering wolves a brief respite within the barrier, a place to take off their shoes and relax among their own kind, safe from fear of being exposed to the human world. If it also brings new blood into the town, that’s just a happy bonus.

Fallen leaves crunch under our boots as we walk down the center of the road. The forest that surrounds Hartford Cove swirls with pops of fiery orange, crimson red, and sunshine yellow. The change had happened overnight, turning the greenery to a kaleidoscope of color.

Tris’s breath forms white clouds of fog as he eats his pie, and I snuggle my nose into the soft scarf Haut gave me, trying to ward off the cold. While the sun shines brightly in a clear blue sky, frost still clings to the shadows.

Tris nods to a row of narrow townhouses. “Should we swing by Delilah’s house to see if she’s left yet?”

“Sure.”

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