Page 44 of The Lone Wolf Café
Since I had been up so early to work at the café, sleep weighed heavily on my brain not long after I made myself comfortable. I still didn’t have a clock, but my wolf instincts knew the night was young. After all, this time of year in Maine, it was dark by late afternoon. It was truly the season of night, since we spent more time in darkness than we did in daylight.
I had nearly fallen asleep, leaning against the wall with my open book sprawled across my lap, when I heard voices through the cracked window.
I opened my eyes, blinking blearily as my brain struggled to process the conversation. It was two people – a young woman and a much older man.
I realized it was coming from Rowena’s house.
And that was definitely Rowena’s voice.
My wolfish senses piqued, and I debated letting my ears pop out so I could hear the conversation more clearly. But their tones gave me a lot of clues – the man’s words were hushed and urgent, and Rowena’s were calm and firm.
I sat up straight, peeling my back away from the wall, and removed my book from my lap. But as I went to rise and walk over to the cracked window, I stopped.
I was eager to learn more about Rowena, and find out why the town was so wary of her. But this felt…wrong. It was her house, and she was entitled to her privacy. Just because she had a guest over and was talking to them didn’t mean she was up to anything nefarious.
Plus, I was exhausted, and I didn’t have the energy to snoop into other people’s business. I slouched my spine, settling back against the wall, and closed my eyes.
The last thing I remembered hearing was the sound of a door slamming and footsteps crunching through the fallen leaves before I fell asleep.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Rowena was quiet on the walk to the café.
To be fair, so was I. On the outside I was calm and relaxed, as we walked side by side in our usual companionable silence. But on the inside, I was burning up with questions.
Why isn’t Rowena part of the coven? Why are the other witches so cautious around her?
Who was she talking to last night?
I lifted my gaze from the ground, where I’d been watching the autumn leaves crunch under my feet, and peered over at Rowena. She looked so stoic and peaceful, with her thick bangs hovering above her eyelashes and her big, dark eyes placidly taking in the scenery. It was still dark outside, which made the normally fiery fall trees look like black, looming specters high above our heads. But they were just as beautiful as they were in the daytime, in their own eerie way.
Rowena was an evasive, quiet witch, but she’d been incredibly kind to me since I first stumbled into her café. Hell, she’d been more than kind – she offered me a much-needed job while promising my safety like her life depended on it. And in some ways, it might. I imagined she would be in deep trouble if the rest of Wisteria Grove found out she was harboring a werewolf.
I thought back to my panic attack the day before. How she didn’t scold me or get suspicious. Instead, she comforted me. She taught me to breathe through it. I could still feel her hug – the way she wrapped her arms around me, hooking her chin over my shoulder, pressing her fingers against my long red hair. I remembered the scent of her lavender perfume washing over me. I could even smell a hint of it now as we walked, every time our shoulders brushed or a stray breeze swept across both of us.
I liked her. I was strangely, foolishly, inexplicably attracted to her. She was beautiful, caring, and mysterious – three traits that were irresistible to werewolves. But this was more than just my kind’s curious and hormonal ways. There was something deeper to our budding friendship, something I struggled to describe. It was as if those big brown eyes could stare straight into my soul. As if she knew me better than I knew myself.
I just couldn’t explain why.
“Did you have a good time at the coven meeting last night?”
I startled. Rowena hadn’t said a word the entire time we’d been walking, and we were almost to the café. Whether it was a simple attempt at conversation or something more, I couldn’t tell. I looked over at her, and her brown eyes flickered with curiosity.
I don’t understand. Why aren’t you part of the coven?
Did you not want to join?
Or would they not let you?
“Oh, uh, it was fine.” My reply tumbled awkwardly out of my mouth. “More than fine, actually. It was nice. I enjoyed getting to chat with the other witches. The food was really good, too.”
“Did Juniper have anything important to bring up?” Rowena asked.
My jaw tensed. I dreaded mentioning the upcoming werewolf frenzy. Rowena was likely already aware of it, or would be told soon by one of the other witches. But the thought of bringing up anything werewolf-related made me nauseous.
“Uh… yeah. About the full moon coinciding with Halloween…”
I paused. Because as soon as I mentioned the full moon, every muscle in Rowena’s body tightened. It was like she was made of stone. I knew the news made her just as uncomfortable as it made me, but for different reasons.
