Ame offers him a sweet smile. “Well, I’m a witch. So, go, Blossom!”
He nods, as if that decides everything. “Go, Blossom.”
“Now, wait a minute, Jack,” Griffith chimes in. “You’re a wolf. You’ve gotta root for Manny.” He points to the man at my side, who’s currently running his thumb gently along my collarbone.
Wait, what is he doing? When did this start? Why is he touching me like this? Why am I letting him?
Why does it feel so good?
My nipples pebble again, but this time, it’s not from the cold.
Jack’s hard stare flicks between Griffith, Manny, me, then back to his mate.
“Go, Blossom,” he repeats.
The show of loyalty—to his mate, not to me—has me smiling.
Then, the wolf, who’s still manhandling me, opens his annoying mouth.
“Eh, can’t blame you.” Manny laughs. “If I didn’t like seeing her in a temper so much, I’d be rooting for Blossom too.” The hot fingers of his free hand pinch my chin, holding my face in place as he presses a loud kiss to my forehead.
A rush of emotion blots out all rational thought, and in self-preservation, my hands dance through conjuring motions before I consider the consequences.
Manny slips away fast, catching and dodging three separate apples I rocketed his way. Unfortunately, one misses its target and instead knocks Owen’s cider out of his hand, sending the spiced beverage spraying through the air. Jack turns his body in time to shield Ame, blocking any of the splatter from hitting his witch.
“Damn. I was enjoying that.” The seal shifter scoops his empty mug off the ground, voice mournful.
I’m not in the apologizing mood. “Well, that’ll teach you to root for the wrong competitor.” Nose in the air, I stalk away from the group toward the next challenge, where I plan to ignore the unwanted reactions my body has toward Manny Ramirez as I dominate the rest of this competition.
“Go, Blossom!” Ame cheers at my back.
4
BLOSSOM
Cornstalks stretch tall above us,their towering heads swaying in a light breeze. The corn is a wall with a single opening.
“Corn maze,” I mutter before shooting a glare toward the grinning werewolf.
Of course he’s happy. Speed is going to be a huge component in this next challenge. Sure, I go jogging a few times a week. But that hasn’t prepared me to race a werewolf.
Maybe if I’d known I was going to be the Pumpkin Princess a year in advance, I could’ve joined a gym and practiced my sprinting.
But, no, I got a week to prepare myself, and now, I’m looking at the second L of the day.
Don’t think like that. Mazes take speed but also brainpower. And Manny has always been shit at directions.
One time, he grudgingly agreed to drive me to my friend’s house on the other side of Folk Haven, and he made the wrong turn at least five times. Practically doubled the travel time. I never thought I’d get to leave that car.
“Thank you, everyone, for joining us once again.” My father claims the crowd’s attention. “I hope you enjoy the spread! Make sure to fill your plates and settle in because we’re about to say good-bye to our combatants. Who knows when we’ll see them again?” Papa shares a grin between Manny and me from his temporary hay-bale podium. “This corn maze is full of twists and turns that could fool even the best puzzle master.”
My father faces me with a delighted expression. The man loves a good game. Whenever I come home for a visit, he always has a new board game for us to try out. Usually, it is Papa, Heather, and me playing. But they often invite Manny to join, and I have to sit across from the wolf and tolerate his teasing taunts, cocky moves, and intense stares.
Now, the board game is life-sized, and Papa is giddy.
“Hmm. Alone in a maze with Blossom Fernmore. What could happen?” Manny smirks my way.
“Most likely, I’ll beat you so bad that you’ll be too ashamed to come out,” I sling back, voice full of pure confidence that I don’t feel. “Better get cozy in there. It’s gonna be your new home.”
