Page 11 of Blue Moon Mistress

Including me.

I manage not to laugh as his nose hits the back of my hand, and instead give him a scratch behind his ear.

It may have won me a friend for life.

I check the time. It’s a little early, but there’s no reason to delay.

Moving to the altar, I grab the scissors and turn back to them slowly—never a good idea to startle a werewolf.

Holding up the antique, silver cutting tools, I make sure they all see them. “I’m going to take some of your fur.”

I wait for one of them to back away, or leave, or make a noise to let me know they aren’t actually okay with it.

When no one does, I take a step forward. Again, treating them like they are easily spooked deer, not wolves who could so easily kill me.

But they aren’t going to hurt me. Even if they didn’t need me, my observations have made that much plainly clear.

They sit on their haunches in an uneven semi circle in front of me. A patient and deadly audience. A beautiful one.

I go to the one closest to me, furthest on the left.

The cloak pooling around me as I squat down, I meet this one’s eyes. I was right.

“Thank you, Thomas.”

His ears twitch in recognition as I snip the small bit of fur. I imagine he’d like to ask me how I know.

The eyes aren’t exactly the windows to the soul, but they definitely show more than most people care to look for.

The next wolf’s eyes are wide, deep brown, and curious. “Happy Halloween, Johnny.”

His fur snipped, it mixes with the strands from Thomas.

The next wolf knocks his nose against my chin as I rough up the fur on his chest too. I have to smile as I narrow my eyes at him. I snip the fur, and then bop him on the nose with my fingers. “Be nice, Chase.”

The sound that filters from behind his teeth is a laugh—or as close as he can get with his wolfy larynx.

And then, all that’s left is Joshua.

He lifts his head, giving me access to both his chest… and his throat.

I don’t snip his fur right away.

I take a moment to stroke him, to bury my fingers in his coat, and squeeze, just a little.

He looks me in the eye, and smiles, bearing all of his teeth.

I snip the last bit of hair I need, but before I stand fully again, I gently turn him back to me. His dark eyes hold a memory and I smile at the one it sparks for me as well.

With one last look, I stand, but only far enough that I can lean forward and place a kiss to the soft fur on his forehead.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll get you all back to walking on two legs.”

I walk back to the altar, turning my back on them as I gather the rest of the ingredients for the spell.

Layering the hair at the bottom of the chalice, I pour honey over top to keep the rest of it from sticking out of the mix. Five other items go in as well. And then the last… the most risky.

Wolves aren’t as affected by blood, but they still feel the primal tug.

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