Page 25 of Spookily Yours

I had a mission to think about. Except any time I was near her, every thought of that slipped my mind, and it was justher.

Long, brown hair tumbling down her back. Bright green eyes staring into mine. There was a lightness in them I’d never felt before. I wanted to experience it, too.

Groaning, I looked down at my rumpled clothes. If we were going into town, I’d probably need more than this. Human temperatures didn’t affect me much, but people often looked at you strangely if you didn’t match the locals. Although in a town of witches, I wondered if anything would be odd to wear around them.

Was I really doing this? Sauntering into town on the arm of a witch, knowing I absolutely shouldn’t? Her kind hated me. And yet… I couldn’t imagine letting her out of my sight.

So if she was going to work, I’d follow her. Make sure she was safe. Protect her from anyone who looked her way.

It wasn’t the first time she was taking me into town, and yet this time, it was different.

Maybe because I wasn’t a cat—I was back on my own two legs, with my wits about me. Or maybe it was the way something had happened, changed between us.

Did she feel it too?

I exited that line of thought as quickly as I’d entered it. I couldn’t afford to be distracted from my mission. Not when so much was at stake.

Leave no rock unturned, brother,he’d instructed me.

I’d trekked through dozens of witch towns, but the identity ofherremained elusive to me.

I snorted with the thought of how mad he’d be when he found out I’d wasted a month stuck in feline form. My brother didn’t share the trait, though he had other powers. His mother wasn’t a shifter like mine had been.

So deep in thought, it was her scent that startled me out of my stupor instead of the sight of her, her long brown hair down in a loose braid.

“You ready? I’m starving.” She asked, still tugging on the bottom of her boot. When her eyes landed on me, she froze. “You changed.”

I cleared my throat. “Yes.”

“Huh.” She peered up at me, a curious expression having settled over her face.

“What, Willow?”

“Do you… know how to glamor yourself?”

SEVEN

willow

There was something about Damien like this that I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of. Where he’d gotten his clothes from, I had no idea. Somehow he looked perfectly natural here in his pair of denim jeans, tight black shirt, and black leather jacket. It was effortlesslyhot.

When was the last time I’d been this attracted to another person? Years.

Tugging on the bottom of my forest-green sweater dress—one of my favorites, because it made my eyes pop—I attempted to pull it further down my thighs. I’d pulled on a pair of fleece-lined tights with it and my favorite heeled booties, but suddenly I felt completely out of sorts.

Maybe it was his demon magic. There had to be a reason they warned witches to stay away from them, right? That was what was making me feel like this.

Like I was seconds from coming out of my skin.

“What’s on your mind, little witch?” Damien asked, catching me staring.

“Oh.” My cheeks practically flushed pink. “Nothing.”

Except I could smell his cologne from where I stood by his side, wafting into my nostrils like the most intoxicating smell on the planet. I couldn’t even pin down the scent: some mixture of pine, musk, and smoke, but it seemed to envelop my entire being.

There was a part of me that wanted to pretend that everything was as usual—I came this way every day to go to the bakery, after all.

Except today was anything but ordinary. And Damien was a constant reminder of that.

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