Page 38 of Good Luck Charm for the Wolf

“There’s gotta be a glitch in Date to Mate. Dina and me? No. Nope. Not compatible. She’s sunshine and soft curves and smiles. I’m cursed, cranky, and allergic to hope. Not exactly soulmate material.”

Horace raises an unimpressed brow.

“Doug, you’re literally her match. You saw the app.”

“Algorithms can be wrong!” I insist, pointing dramatically at Uzzi. “Tell him, Uncle Uzzi! Horace, you coded this thing with Bear hands or whatever.”

Uncle Uzzi smirks like a man who’s heard every excuse in the history of single supernatural males and is not buying a word of it.

“My hands are very nimble, thank you. And no, Doug. The app’s fine. You? Not fine.”

Horace grunts, arms folded over his massive chest.

“Yeah, you’re the problem, Wolf. Not the app. Or the lovely Dina.”

“Easy with the pet names,” I growl at the amused older Witch.

“Take it easy, dear boy. Why not tell us the real problem?”

“YOU mean the one where I know I’m going to fuck this up and I’m scared to death to even try?”

“Pussy,” coughs Horace.

“Really? Thanks for the support, Asshole,” I mutter, flopping onto the couch like my bones have given up.

Uncle Uzzi leans forward, steepling his fingers like he’s about to lay down divine wisdom.

“Doug, let me be blunt.”

“Like you’re ever not?”

He ignores me.

“You’ve spent your whole life convincing yourself you don’t deserve more. You think being a Lone Wolf, Packless, mateless, friendless, not to mention miserable, is a safer way to live. Easier.”

“Because it is,” I shoot back. “People leave. They get hurt. Hell, I get hurt. Look at me! I’ve spent the last week as a walking, talking PSA for supernatural disaster insurance.”

Uzzi just snorts.

“Right. Because nothing says emotional health like avoiding happiness, just so you don’t risk losing it. Doug, this is exactly what Mrs. Goyle is trying to teach you with her spell!”

Uncle Uzzi is just being honest with me, but dammit if I don’t resent him for it.

Horace jumps in, voice gruff but surprisingly earnest.

“Look, man, I get it. Before Carina, I figured I’d end up old and bitter, fighting with squirrels in the woods and dying alone.”

“That still might happen,” Uzzi mutters—so helpful.

“I thought we were friends, Uncle Uzzi? Never mind,” Horace says, before turning serious again. “Look, the truth is, mating changed everything. Yeah, it’s scary. Yeah, it’s intense. But you know what’s worse? Waking up every day thinking you don’t deserve someone who makes your life better.”

His words hit harder than I want to admit.

“Love,” Uzzi says softly now, “is the only thing that breaks curses, Doug. Not half-assed attempts. Not scratching an itch. Real love. Effort. Vulnerability. That’s why Goyle’s spell is still clinging to you like supernatural herpes.”

“Classy,” I mutter, rubbing my face.

“You need to try,” Uzzi finishes. “Not sleep with Dina and ghost her when it scares you. Not shove her away the second she gets close. You, my friend, need to really try.”

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