But dread curls low in my stomach.
“Let’s hope it’s just stress,” I mutter, then silently add,please let there not be any other problems to contend with.
Cade and the council, plus Malrik are more than enough.
A soft knock taps against the dining room threshold. I look up to find Stephanie entering, hands clasped behind her back like she’s not sure if she’s allowed to enter.
That alone is strange.
What is wrong with everyone around here?
The last time I saw her in this very space, she was cryptic and almost aggressive with her words. I’m not sure what to do now, but Cade mentioned something about her gathering pack help for us, so I try not to judge.
“Well, hello there.” Her gaze sweeps the room, from Archie in my lap to Marius, then finally lands back on me. There’s a shift in her face—caution, curiosity, something almost like…respect. “You look different.” She points to my eyes. “What’s going on there?”
Right.Those.The blue-green coloring is now haloed with threads of gold and violet, while silver and brown also weave their way through. According to Cade, my wolf form eyes are even more interesting.
“Fate,” I say, deadpan.
Stephanie chuckles. “Yeah, that tracks.” She darts another glance toward Marius. “You must be the long-lost daddy.”
“Must be,” he replies, clipped and unimpressed.
The dryness in his tone makes me snort into my coffee. I wonder if all alphas are required to take the same class on Brooding and Intimidation 101.
“Great. Another one.” Stephanie drags a hand down her jeans, then studies me with the intensity of someone trying to decide if they’re admiring a masterpiece or checking for hidden explosives. “Look, I hope whatever’s changed in you ends up being for the betterment ofeveryone. Not the destruction. I went out on a limb for Cade—brought some of our people here. I’d prefer not to regret it.”
Marius stiffens beside me, but I lift a hand to stop him.
“Stephanie,” I say lightly, “if I wanted to ‘destroy’ the supernatural world like the prophecy suggests, do you honestly think step one on my villain agenda would’ve been eating at an awkward family breakfast?”
Her mouth twitches. “I mean, yeah, fair point.”
Still, she keeps staring, like she’s weighing every rumor she’s heard against the evidence in front of her. I get the impression this woman forms her own opinions, and no force on earth—supernatural or otherwise—is going to sway her once she has one.
“Right, well,” she says, rocking back on her four-inch heels, “since Cade’s busy, I came to tell you the witch he requested will be here tonight.”
“Witch?” My brows pinch. “For what?”
Her smirk widens like she’s been waiting all morning to drop this bomb. “For you. Did you really think your mate—who is also an alpha—was going to tolerate you being unable to shift without your clothes returning?”
Oh, right.That. I’ve actually been hoping for one of those tattoos and to never be seen in another pink muumuu.
“Of course,” I say with forced confidence. “Do I need to know anything ahead of time?”
Her eyes brighten with pure mischief.
“Bring something to bite down on.” Then she pauses, snapping her fingers. “Actually? Ask Cade to borrow his arm. His bones should be strong enough.”
I blink at her. “I’m sorry. What?”
But she’s already spinning on her heel and disappearing out the door with a little hum, as if she didn’t just threaten me with magical torture.
I stare after her, then slowly turn to Marius.
“What exactly did she mean by that?”
He sighs, folding his arms. “Supernaturals don’t use normal ink for spell markings. Essentially, the witch is going to brand the magic into your skin. Hot enough to sear an incantation straight through the flesh.”
