Page 78 of Bewitching the Wolf

When everyone has left, Mom flops down on a stool. “Probably won’t be able to get up again, but never mind. How’ve you been, sweetheart? How’s your job at Digger’s going?”

“Good. Busy as always.”

“And your—” she looks pained, as if it hurts to say it, “—wixen training? Are you getting much out of it?” She looks at me over the top of her glasses, her eyes cloudy. “I do hope your aunt isn’t leading you too far off the vixen’s path.”

I bite my lip. Felicia is the black sheep of the family. Wixens in each generation break the mold, move away from the lair and live freely in the Labyrinth, usually running apothecaries as Auntie does. In the past, some have returned and had pups, but most do not. Mom has not been happy with my initiation into wixen-hood. She always knew it meant a different life for me.

All she wants is for me to come back to the lair, go through the necessary, if perfunctory, mating with a fox shifter and have cubs.

And learn to knit beanies.

I steel myself to tell her that my life is going to be very different than any vixen shifter’s has been—for centuries.

This is not going to an easy conversation.

But I can’t hide my destiny from her.

“Mom,” I say, sitting down next to her. “I-I need to tell you something.”

“Are you coming home to live?” Mum’s face brightens.

I shake my head, and take a deep breath. “Remember I told you about that human, Jax, who I became friends with?”

“The one you couldn’t stop worrying about? He smoked or something, right? He sounded like a bit of a no-hoper, to be honest. How is he doing?”

“He’s doing really well. He doesn’t smoke—I erm, cured him of that. And now he’s stopped vaping, too.”

“That’s good. I guess you’ve developed some potion-making skills with your aunt, then.”

“Yes.” I clasp my hands and pick at my claws. “There’s just one thing. While he was having a few personal problems, he got turned into a werewolf. “

“What! Oh, the poor boy. How?”

“It was a while back. Long story, but being turned actually saved him, put him back on the right path.”

Mom looks incredulous. “Becoming a werewolf helped him? Oh no, I don’t think that’s right…”

“It did, Mom, he’s an amazing guy now.”

“Tippy-Anna, I don’t want you associating with him now that he’s a werewolf.”

Oof, awkward.

“Ah, well, here’s the thing…” I drag in another breath, stare at the kitchen ceiling with its rows of drying herbs and strings of garlic, then I blurt out, “Well, here’s the thing. I was enlisted to help him quit vaping by his pack leader, and erm, yeah, well, one thing led to another and now… we’re together. As in, we’re… mate bonded.”

Mom’s mouth gapes as she stares at me.

I wince at her reaction, but it’s too late now, I can’t unsay it. “It’s serious, Mom, we love each other.”

Mom shakes her head until her ears quiver. “I knew your aunt would lead you astray,” she wails. “She’s always been sympathetic to wolves, that one.”

“Auntie had nothing to do with it.” Hmm, that might be little white lie.

Mom’s on a roll now. “Her and that wolf, that Trojan pack fella, she reckoned he was a mage.” She snorts. “She had such a thing for him. She used to run away, disappear to gods-knows-where on the back of his motorbike. Goddess knows what they got up to. Your nan disapproved. Tried to stop it. But when Felicia started up that wixen nonsense, just like her great aunt Sophie before her, we knew she was on the wrong path. Which is why, of course, she would never come home and mate with a fox and have cubs. Always wild, always dancing, singing, going to festivals.’ Mom sniffs. “She should be the one with an arthritic knee, not me.”

“Maybe the dancing’s been good for her,” I murmur.

Mom looks at me, her brows pulled tight over worried eyes. “You’re serious, aren’t you? About this wolf—man?”