Page 3 of Bewicched

When he turned to Declan, the physical change was extraordinary. Relaxed and flirtatious morphed into clenched jaw, puffed chest, tightened fists. “You know the rules. You can’t come into my territory without meeting with me and getting my approval. I’m Alpha.” Logan crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Declan, eyes going wolf gold.

Declan didn’t flinch, didn’t seem the least bit concerned. “I’m not inyourterritory. Pack grounds are in Big Sur. I live and work in Monterey. Eve is the Master of Monterey.”

Logan growled, “Bloodsuckers don’t rule us. You want to stay here, you meet with me.”

“Gentlemen,” I interrupted, “I have reason to believe this won’t end well. What do you say you just shake hands and walk away? In fact,” I added, glancing back in my studio, “I can offer you both a freshly baked fudge brownie with a layer of caramel in the middle. Can you smell them?” Being werewolves, they’d never back down from a fight, but it was worth a try.

Declan studied me a moment, lifting his head to scent the air, and then grinned. “I’m in.” He stuck out his hand and waited.

I didnotexpect that.

Logan smacked Declan’s hand away.

Yep, totally expected that.

Declan blew out a breath and leaned against the doorframe. “Where and when?”

“Pack grounds. Full moon. And since I had to track you down, you’ll join our hunt instead of meeting me in my office. You think you can handle that?” Logan sneered.

Declan’s expression was priceless, like he was dealing with a toddler having a tantrum. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”

I had to bite my lip not to laugh. Laughing at a pissed-off Alpha was a good way to get bitten.

“We’ll see what happens when you’re on pack lands and whether or not I allow you to stick around.” When Logan grinned, for just a moment his teeth seemed too long, too sharp, but it could have been a trick of the light.

And then his eyes were back on me and all the aggression was gone. “You Corey girls sure do have the biggest, prettiest blue eyes.”

“Green,” Declan corrected.

“Right. So, I’ve been meaning to ask you, there’s a new Mexican restaurant in town I’d like to take you to. What do you say?”

“Well, I’ll have to think about that, won’t I?”

“You do just that. And I’ll see you again real soon.” With a warm grin, he sauntered off.

Logan had been doing his damnedest to seduce me since I was fifteen, bragging about what a powerful couple we’d make. When I turned back to Declan to discuss railings, though, he wasn’t watching the threatening Alpha depart. He was watching me.

2

Chocolate Makes Everything Better. Mostly

“Ibelieve you said something about a brownie,” Declan said.

I blew out a breath, shaking off the weirdly charged, testosterone-fueled moment, and went for the baked goods. When I realized he was still standing in the doorway, I beckoned him forward, saying, “Come on in.”

I could use a brownie too. The way this guy blew off impending werewolf trouble for baked goods made me want to classify him as a decent guy. Of course, that might have been because I couldn’t hear his shitty thoughts. Trusting, I was not.

I put two brownies on a plate for him and one for me. “I have coffee, tea, milk, soda, or water. Do you want anything to drink?” I grabbed myself an orange soda and a fork. Wearing gloves meant I almost always ate with utensils. Try eating chips with chopsticks. Go ahead, I dare you.

“I’ll take an orange soda too, if you’ve got another.” His voice was closer than I’d expected.

I turned, trying to decide if I needed to drop the baked goods and get that spell ready again. Nope. He was just studying my paintings. That was a relief. I didn’t want to have to drag his huge unconscious ass out of here after I’d put him down.

My studio was part workroom, part apartment. I had an oversized worktable in the center, with cabinets against the far wall for supplies, finished pieces, whatever. There was a door in that wall that led to the Fire Room. I did glass blowing and pottery in there. Opposite that wall was the door to the gallery space, which was double the area of my studio. I also had a couch and a chair in a small living room area.

Along the back wall was my kitchen. I had an industrial-grade stove because when the nightmares woke me, I baked. A lot. My gallery—when she finally opened—would have an area where I sold baked goods and my mom’s tea. She ran a very popular tea shop.

I had a small toilet downstairs and a full bathroom upstairs in my bedroom loft. Stairs ran along the wall in common with the gallery and led to a huge loft that served as my bedroom. My bed was soft and inviting, with water-colored bedding and a mountain of pillows. Over the years, I’d tried everything in an attempt to sleep through the night. As that never actually happened, I also had a comfy reading chair. Above the bed, there was a new skylight. When I lay awake in bed, I was now able to watch the stars, the movement of the moon, the shifting of the clouds.

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