“Please refrain from doing anything crazy and getting yourself murdered,” I said, imploring him to take me seriously.
He squeezed my hand. “Best behavior. I swear.”
Hoping Mack would take me seriously, keep his word, and survive, I led him up the stairs, following the smell of damp, salty air through the door and out onto the rooftop. Unlike the first floor of Sereana’s residence, the garden wasn’tdark and scary. Strings of colorful lights hung from pole to pole like a canopy, holding the shadows at bay.
As we passed beneath the first archway, Mackiel froze, his muscles rippling beneath his skin. A strangled growl tore from his throat, and gold drowned out the brown of his eyes, glowing in the moonlight.
In the distance, someone howled, answered by another packmate. Fur ghosted Mack’s arms, and his lips peeled back, flashing fangs as he shuddered and fought back his own answering howl.
He was going to shift.
In Sereana’s garden.
Panic seized me, and I threw my arms and legs around him like a backpack hanging from his front. I smothered him in my scent as I whispered calming thoughts into his ear. “I’m here. Everything’s okay. You need to stay human. It’s not safe to shift right now.”
His eyes rolled back in his head, but he fought the beast, clenching his fists and jaw. I nuzzled his neck and trailed kisses up his jugular. Finally, fur melded back into skin. He sucked in deep breaths, and his gaze locked on mine. Tiny specks of gold still danced in his irises, but they’d darkened back to brown. Sweat beaded at his temples, and his skin had developed a sheen, his T-shirt damp beneath my hands, but the man—not the wolf—stared back at me.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “You good?”
“I… I think so. What the hell happened?”
More howls sounded in the distance, but our pack wasn’t the reason he’d almost shifted. Mack’s control over his wolf was airtight. No, this was something else.
Scanning the area, I found the culprit. A magically heated pot hung by the door, smelling ofSalvia divinorum, a plant that—when burned—created a smoke that caused hallucinations.
“Sage of the diviners,” I grumbled.
“Very good.” Condescension dripped from Sereana’s compliment.
We turned to find the witch watching us as if we were a science experiment she was observing to record.
Between her high cheekbones, shiny caramel-colored hair, and plump lips, she was stunning. She bore no wrinkles or age spots, and there wasn’t a single strand of silver in her hair, making her appear to be somewhere around my age, but she looked no older now than she did when I was little.
All magic wielders were slow to age. Rust said it was the universe’s rectification for our tragically low birth rates. But Sereana’s youthful appearance was definitely unnatural.
A fitted yellow dress with white flowers accentuated her curves, ending about an inch above sandaled feet. Her only imperfection was the dingy white fanny pack cinched around her waist. Screen-printed with the silhouette of Seattle’s pre-war skyline, it seemed to hold an unlimited quantity of spell ingredients. The eighteen-inch machete sheathed at her waist added strong don’t-mess-with-me vibes, but it was the bone-chilling look in her eyes and the stench of brimstone tainting her scent that kept everyone away.
Stormy gray eyes conducted a quick perusal of Mackiel before she announced, “He’ll do.”
For what?
Before I could ask what deranged machinations she had for my boyfriend, the alpha emerged from the shadows, taking me by surprise thanks to the cacophony of scents that made up her garden.
“As I’ve told you before, witch…” He strode across the rooftop, stopping directly in front of Sereana in a flex that only Chaz McCarthy, Alpha of the Evergreen Pack, could pull off. “I don’t need your approval of the management of my wolves.”
Sereana smiled, showing him every single one of her gleaming white teeth. My aunt wasn’t a shifter, but she didn’t drop her gaze to anyone. And she sure as shit didn’t bare her throat.
“The pup is escorting my niece across the desert. I merelysought to make sure he could control his beast. As is my right as Ziara’s sole living family member on her mother’s side.”
Sereana was complicated. Sometimes I got the feeling she wanted me dead, but then she spouted off protective crap like that, and it only confused me.
“Hello, niece.” She turned to face me, showing her back to Dad, who ground his teeth at her snub. “I trust you brought the artifact with you.”
It wasn’t a question, but I tugged on my backpack strap and answered, “I did.”
“Of course you did. The pack’s little bitch will do anything for her alpha, won’t you?” She held out her hand, eyes gleaming with anticipation. I had faith in my aunt’s knowledge, but not necessarily her motives. Dad, Rust, and I were in this for the pack, but the witch didn’t have an altruistic bone in her body.
Not for the first time, I wondered what was in it for her.
