Page 41 of Hex and the Kitty

Mari reached across the table, brushing a curl from Molly’s forehead—a tender gesture from childhood. “Arden says Warrick’s been prowling around the station like a lovesick teenager. Apparently, he nearly took Reed’s head off when Reed suggested a double date that might keep you out past midnight.”

“Really?” Molly couldn’t suppress her smile.

“Tigers are territorial, Molls. And from what I hear, Warrick’s made it clear to every shifter in town that you’re under his protection.” Mari raised an eyebrow. “That’s not fake dating behavior.”

Molly pushed her food around her plate, stomach fluttering. “Last night during the firehouse ward check, we kissed. I’ve never wanted anything so badly. When our faces were close, I could smell cinnamon and cedar on his skin, and my magic triggered this ridiculous glowing spell. We lit up like fireflies. It was mortifying, but the way he looked at me afterward...”

“Like you’d hung the moon?”

“Like I’d created it just for him.” Molly met her sister’s gaze. “I think I’m falling in love with him, Mari. And it terrifies me.”

Mari squeezed her hand. “Of course, it does. Love’s the biggest magic there is—unpredictable, overwhelming, and completely worth it. But ask yourself this: does the thought of not pursuing this connection scare you more than taking the risk?”

Molly closed her eyes, imagining life without Warrick’s quiet strength, his rare smiles, the electricity when their hands brushed. The hollow ache that accompanied the thought provided her answer.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Losing this chance terrifies me more.”

“Then you already know what to do.” Mari’s smile turned mischievous. “And for goddess’s sake, next time just kiss the man before your magic turns you both into nightlights.”

When they parted an hour later, Molly hugged Mari fiercely. “I can’t believe my big sister’s having a baby.”

“Believe it. And prepare for 3 AM calls when I need magical teething remedies.” Mari pressed her cheek against Molly’s. “Follow your heart, Molls. Tigers mate for life, you know.”

THIRTY-ONE

Butterflies erupted in Molly’s stomach at those words. As she walked back toward the bakery, she allowed herself to imagine a future with Warrick—passionate nights, quiet mornings, a partner whose strength matched her spirit. The mere thought sent heat pooling low in her belly. She’d never experienced this consuming desire, this bone-deep certainty that someone could become essential to her happiness.

Lost in daydreams, Molly almost missed the ornate package on her bakery doorstep. The gilded box tied with midnight-blue ribbon caught the afternoon sunlight, a handwritten tag proclaiming, “For the enchanting baker.”

A gift? Her fingers brushed the package, detecting a whisper of magic prickling beneath the shimmering paper. Something about the energy signature nagged at her memory, but the elegant presentation disarmed her suspicions. Perhaps a thank-you from Mrs. Henderson for those recall-enhancing scones?

Unlocking the bakery, Molly carried the box inside. The familiar scents of vanilla and cinnamon embraced her along with the lingering aroma of the morning’s cardamom buns. She placed the box on her workstation counter, untying the ribbon with curious fingers.

The moment the lid lifted, darkness exploded outward.

Foul-smelling smoke erupted from the box, twisting into grotesque creatures with glowing red eyes and razor-sharp claws. They moved with malevolent intelligence, screeching as they darted across countertops, knocking over displays and shattering jars.

“Goddess preserve me!” Molly ducked as a smoke monster dive-bombed her head, its shriek cutting through the air. She grabbed her enchanted rolling pin, swinging it in a desperate arc. The creature dispersed momentarily, only to reform twice as large.

Panic surged through her veins. These weren’t ordinary magical mischief—they responded to her magic by growing stronger. Five more creatures materialized from the churning smoke, crawling across the ceiling like nightmarish spiders.

The door burst open, bell jingling frantically.

Warrick stood in the doorway, golden eyes blazing. His chest heaved beneath his half-buttoned uniform shirt as if he’d sprinted across town. His gaze locked on Molly, relief and fury warring across his features.

“Get down!” he commanded, voice deepening to a growl.

Molly ducked behind the display case as Warrick charged forward. His body transformed partially—not a full shift, but enough that deadly claws extended from his fingertips and his muscles rippled with inhuman strength. He slashed through the nearest smoke creature with lethal precision, dissipating it into wisps.

“They feed on magic!” Molly called. “Physical attacks only!”

Warrick nodded curtly, his movements fluid and predatory as he leaped onto the counter, slashing through two more creatures. His grace stole Molly’s breath—even in battle, he moved with controlled power that made her heart race for entirely non-life-threatening reasons.

The remaining smoke monsters shrieked in unison, emitting a high-pitched tone that made Warrick wince in pain. Blood trickled from his ear as he staggered.

Understanding dawned on Molly—these creatures targeted enhanced shifter hearing specifically. This attack wasn’t random; it was designed against tiger shifters.

Against Warrick.

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