Page 3 of Ensnared By the Werewolf

Belinda

I jumpat the sound of the bell above the shop door, almost dropping my current embroidery project.The dreams from last night have left me a little on edge.Dreams of running through trees with an impossible mix of emotions: fear, adrenaline, and a tantalizing thrill that bordered on the sensual.I’d woken panting and confused.

I blow out a breath, trying to slow the race of my heart.I center myself before greeting the newcomer to my shop by finishing pulling the pale thread that will make up the moon of my thread nature scene.I love stitching nature because I can chaotically continue to add layers and details until my heart sighs with happiness.

The stranger fidgets in the entryway.

Finally calm, I blink at the man.The wards pulse at his presence, telling me that this isn’t some human walking in from the street to ooh and ahh at my wares or to ask about casting a love spell.I’ve become rather jaded to humans pulling my magic shop up on Google out of curiosity.

Maybe I should take my cousin up on her offer for a ward to dissuade humans from entering the shop proper, but the situation doesn’t seem to occur enough to make the time worth it.

It just makes me a little cranky.

But the man in the doorway isn’t human and won’t be asking whether the crystals on display would make good table centerpieces.Instead, this individual is wearing a glamour.I raise a brow at the visitor and carefully set my embroidery hoop next to the register.The man’s dark hair is disheveled, and his hands are deep in the pockets of his jacket as if trying to make himself seem smaller.His face is attractive enough, but the appearance he’s wearing isn’t real.

Even still, his presence...pullsat me.Something in me perks up.What has fate brought me this day?

“Hello,” I say.“What can I do for you?”

The man pulls his gaze from a framed embroidered design declaringGet Witchy!to me, and I suck in a breath.His eyes are a hazel so light that they almost look gold, and my body freezes for a moment as if I’m a rabbit halting in the presence of a hawk.No, that’s not right.

A deer in the presence of a...wolf.

Ah.

The man’s gaze drops, and he clears his throat.The spell over me that most certainly isn’t magical in origin breaks.

The stranger looks around the shelves of spell books and lore encyclopedias.

“There are no humans here,” I say.We’re alone.I don’t say that.It would be silly to go out of my way to tell a stranger that I’m all alone.Though...there’s an odd feeling in the air that makes me think that I don’t need to worry.

It’s not that he feelssafe.A shiver runs over my skin and my whole body is alight, alive.

Why do I trust him?

“I heard—” He cuts off before starting again.The man’s voice is deep and smooth even if he seems to bleed discomfort.“I heard that you could help me.”

Now it’s not just my body responding to my mystery visitor.My professional interest rises, and I catalog the appearance of his glamour.His jeans are worn light in spots with what looks like sawdust brushed on one pant leg and the dark jacket is similar.The clothing he wears seems much too large for his frame.

I push my glasses up my nose.His glamour is a high-grade one that doesn’t include the clothes he’s wearing, so I’d guess this is a permanent glamour for him.

I let myself analyze just a small bit of the magic of the spell.The glamour is very well made from the tight stitches of power.

What is he hiding?

“That depends,” I say.“What are you looking for?”

“I-I’m pretty sure I’m cursed.”

4

Belinda

I bite backmy excitement long enough to flip the open sign to closed and lock the shop door.Curses do not come along every day.My greatest skill and interest is in breaking curses, but the rarity of them means that a different source of income is necessary, hence the shop.

I do love my shop, but the idea of detangling some nefarious magic has me practically skipping.

The man freezes at the door of my workroom as if he’s stuck in glue, and I mentally sigh at myself for forgetting.

---