“Our Alpha and Luna,” I said. “Pretty big deal. We need something good.”
She was quiet for a moment, then said, “I can do it.”
I believed her.
There was a pause, long enough for the clock over the counter to tick three times. I tried to picture her in this place, alone at dawn, mixing batter and humming to herself. I wondered if it made her happy, why she was here alone.
“What’s your story?” I asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “You mean, why is a witch baking cakes in the middle of wolf country?”
“Something like that.”
She looked at her hands, then out the window. “My mom died. Before she did, for some reason she bought me this place. Said it’d be safer here than with my coven. She actually told me to run. So I ran.”
“Sorry about your mom. Why would you need to run from your coven? Thought they are usually your family.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t say anything for a long time, then, “My entire coven always said I wasn’t much of a witch. Treated me like garbage. Never called me by my name, just ‘dud.’ I could never do what the others did. Never reached the point to where my magic manifested. But my mother, who was the most powerful witch in our coven next to the Wyrdmother, taught me how to bake. Don’t know if she knew what the future held or what, but here I am.”
The last word trembled, and I saw it for what it was: a plea not to push any further.
I cleared my throat. “We’ll take the lemon. It’s delicious.”
She tried to hide her smile. “That’s the first real compliment I’ve had since I can’t remember.”
Her reaction to the praise hit me in the balls. “Well, you should get used to it.”
She hesitated, then said, “What’s your actual name, Big Papa?”
I considered lying, then thought better of it. “Jonas. But everyone calls me JT, or just Rice.”
She nodded. “Nice to meet you, Jonas.”
I looked at her again, really looked, and the urge to run had faded. There was an edge to her. She wore the look of someone who’d been through her own hell and survived it, same as I did.
“I’ll send payment through Pearl,” I said, standing.
She followed me to the door. “I’ll make a small sample cake by tomorrow. Prefer a style? I can do fancy, but I like it simple.”
“Simple’s better,” I said. “And Aspen?”
“Yeah?”
“Keep the magic to yourself. Most folks in Dairyville are human, and they don’t like what they can’t explain.”
She nodded, but there was a spark of defiant humor in her eyes. “If I ever figure out how to make my magic work, I’ll be sure to keep it under my witch’s hat.”
I smiled, despite myself. “See you around.”
As I stepped outside, the sunlight hit me like a slap. My wolf grumbled inside, annoyed at how I’d handled her, like I should’ve been softer or at least less of an ass. Because I truly was mostly a nice guy.
I turned back. She was in the window, hands pressed around a coffee mug, looking after me like she half expected I’d vanish.
My wolf growled, deep and low, a wordless warning. Then he said the word that I’d already had rolling around in my brain and had been trying desperately to dismiss:
“Mate.”
I started my bike, the engine snarling, and took off down Main. The taste of cake was still on my tongue. The girl was still in my head. This was something I didn’t need right now with everything else that was on my plate. How could I explain it? I didn’t know any examples of wolf and witch mated couples. Was this even a thing? Maybe I just hadn’t been laid in so damn long my dick was just confused by the first new gorgeous flesh it had seen in forever.
