Nobody moved.
We were all frozen, staring at the massive, tattooed and unconscious man bleeding all over my floor. He was completely naked. Shit. Aggressively naked. The kind of naked that made you forget how to form thoughts because your brain was too busy processing the sheer amount of muscle and skin on display.
Also, he was bleeding from multiple wounds that looked suspiciously claw-shaped.
Also, his eyes had been glowing red before he face-planted.
Also, he’d called me his mate.
Also, I was pretty sure I’d seen fur receding into his skin.
Bella broke first. She made a noise that sounded less human and more tea kettle reaching critical temperature. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-”
Krystin stood there with her arms crossed, staring at the man with the expression of someone trying to force the universe to make sense through sheer willpower. Daphne had grabbed my arm and was gripping it hard enough to cut off circulation, whispering “this is insane this is insane this is insane” under her breath.
My brain had blue-screened. Error 404: Reality Not Found.
“Did we-” My voice came out strangled. “Did we just summon a man? A naked man? With the book?”
The pitch of my voice was climbing with each word. I sounded unhinged. I probablywasunhinged.
“Is he dead? Did we kill him? Oh my god, did we commit murder via spell book? That’s not how I wanted to go to prison!”
“He’s breathing.” Krystin snapped out of her trance, pointing at his chest. “Look. We didn’t kill him. Yet.”
I looked. His chest was rising and falling steadily. Also, his chest was extremely nice. Defined. Muscular. In between the tattoos, he was covered in scars that told stories I probably didn’t want to know.Stop it, brain.There was a possibly magical man bleeding on my floor. This was not the time for horny thoughts.
“We should call 911,” Bella squeaked. Her face had gone white except for two spots of red high on her cheeks. “Right? That’s what we do? Call for help?”
But even as she said it, none of us reached for our phones.
“And say what?” I heard myself ask. “Hi, yes, we summoned... something... with a spell book and he’s bleeding in aisle three? They’ll institutionalize us.”
“We could just say we found him,” Daphne offered weakly. Her grip on my arm loosened slightly.
“A naked man. Covered in claw marks. Who appeared out of thin air during a thunderstorm. After we read a summoning spell. Sure. That’ll go over great.”
I forced my feet to move. One step. Then another. I crouched down near him, keeping my distance but trying to get a better look.
Jesus tap-dancing Christ, he was huge.
Six foot nine at least. Maybe more. Pure muscle, the kind you got from actual fighting, not from a gym. Fresh scars covered his body. Old ones, silvered with age, and fresh ones, still red and angry. His hair was black, long enough to brush his shoulders. Some of it had been tied back but had come loose during whatever the hell had just happened.
His face was gorgeous in a dangerous way. Sharp jaw. High cheekbones. Lips that had no business being that pretty on someone who might be a literal monster. And those wounds-
I leaned closer, trying to ignore the way my pulse kicked up.
Claw marks raked across his ribs. A bite on his shoulder that looked like something had tried to tear a chunk out of him. Agash on his thigh that made my stomach flip. Blood had pooled under him, soaking into the throw rug I’d gotten at a yard sale.
And I could still see the fur receding. Just the last traces of it, vanishing into tanned skin.
“Oh my god,” I whispered. My hands were shaking. “Is he... is he a mythical creature? Like a...”
I couldn’t say it. It was too insane. Too impossible. Too much like every paranormal romance novel I’d ever read, except this was real and happening in my bookstore on a Sunday night.
“A werewolf?” Daphne breathed.
The word hung in the air between us. Heavy. Ridiculous. Undeniable.
