Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Lily hadn't slept.
How could she, with Gray's growls bleeding through the walls all night? Her magic had turned his apartment into a botanical nightmare, and the memory of his hands on her skin, his promise that if he saw her again, he'd—
"What in the fresh hell is that?"
Ryker stood in the distillery doorway, coffee frozen halfway to his mouth. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the black cat sitting on top of the bar, grooming itself.
"That's..." She still hadn't named it. "A cat."
"I can see it's A cat." His voice pitched with genuine offense. "Why is there a cat in here? Cats don't come near wolf territory. They know better."
The cat paused its grooming to fix Ryker with a look of absolute disdain. Then it went back to licking its butt.
"It showed up a while ago. I think my magic called it."
"Your magic called a cat." Ryker set down his coffee. "And it's still here. On an island of wolves."
“I told it to leave. Multiple times. Even warned her this place was full of predators who'd use her as a chew toy." She shrugged. "It doesn't listen."
Ryker stalked toward the bar. The cat watched him approach, bored and superior.
"Out," he growled.
The cat yawned. Sharp pointy teeth caught the light.
"I mean it." He leaned closer, eyes flashing gold. "This is wolf territory. You don't belong here."
The cat stretched, then flopped onto its side and began purring. On the clean bar towels. Shedding black fur everywhere.
Ryker turned to Lily, bewildered. “Your cat is broken."
"It's not broken. It just doesn't care."
"Every feline in a hundred miles knows to avoid this island. They can smell what we are. They run. As they should.” He gestured at the purring menace. "This one's defective."
"Or she's braver than you think. She's survived this long."
"Does Gray know?"
"He's seen her. Told her to get out." Lily allowed herself a small smile. "She ignored him too."
Ryker stared at the cat. The cat stared back, tail swishing.
"I don't like it," he said.
"Noted."
The cat rolled over, presenting its belly. Lily knew better. Ryker didn't.
He reached down. Claws flashed. Four perfect scratches bloomed across his knuckles before he could jerk back.
"Son of a—"
The cat went back to grooming, unbothered.
“A cat showing you her belly is not an invitation,” Lily said.
"You could have warned me."
"And miss your face?" She smirked. "Never."
Ryker sucked his bleeding knuckles, glaring at the cat. If I had to bet who was going to win this one, I’d probably put money on her.
"That thing explain why you look like hell?" He nodded toward the cat. “Did it keep you up all night with its demon energy?"
"The cat's not the problem."
"Sure." He didn't sound convinced. "Because a witch with a death-wish cat on an island of wolf shifters during a full moon—that's totally normal. Nothing to worry about there." His sarcasm faded. "Okay. If the cat's not the problem, what is?"
“Everything else.” Her voice came out raw. She'd bitten her pillow to muffle her sounds when the moon's pull got too intense, when her body ached so bad she'd had to touch herself just to function.
This was why witches and shifters didn’t mix. They were a potent combination.
"Boss is in a mood," Ryker warned. “He snapped at Shaw for breathing too loud. Nearly took Cal's head off for asking about inventory." He paused. "The full moon's tonight."
As if she’d forget. Her magic was already out of control. And this was just the build-up.
"I know."
The cat's ears swiveled toward the stairs. A second later, it leaped off the bar and disappeared through the back door. Apparently it had better survival instincts than she'd given it credit for.
The door slammed open. Gray filled the frame, looking like he'd been through a war. Hair wild, stubble dark, his eyes edged with permanent gold. He looked at her once, a look that scorched, then turned away.
"The festival is at peak today," he said to Ryker, voice pure gravel. "We need all hands managing tourists."
"On it." Ryker smirked and walked away, leaving them alone.
The air sparked between them. Gray's knuckles went white on the counter.
"We need to talk about last night," she said.
"No. We need to get through today without me bending you over this equipment and claiming you in front of everyone."
Heat shot straight to her core. "What?! But—”
"Don't." He still wouldn't look at her. "I can smell how wet you are. Have been able to smell it all night. Every time you touched yourself thinking about me."
Her face burned. "You said—"
"I said don't come out. I didn't say I couldn't hear you. Or smell you." He turned, eyes pure wolf. "Do you have any idea what that did to me? Listening to you come with my name on your lips while I was locked in my room like an animal?"
"I couldn't help it. The moon—"
"The moon's going to get worse." He moved closer, backing her against the fermenter. "Tonight, when it's full, I won't be able to stop myself if we're alone."
"Maybe you shouldn't stop.”
The words hung there, dangerous and tempting. Gray's control frayed, his body vibrating with the need to close the distance between them.
Then she smelled it.
Lavender and bitter herbs, cutting through the brewery's familiar scents, sweet and sharp.
"No." The word escaped as a whisper. "Not now. Not today."
Gray's nostrils flared. "What's wrong?"
Through the window, she saw them. Three figures moving through the festival crowd with ease. Iris's silver hair caught the morning sun, black ribbons marking her as a Greenwood elder.
"They've come for me." Her magic spiked with terror. A rose bush erupted from the floor.
Gray pressed against her back, his body a shield between her and the window. His hand found her hip, grounding her even as his wolf rose.
"The witches? They're here?"
"Three of them. Maybe more." Her voice shook. "Gray, the full moon, they'll try to take me tonight."
"They won't touch you."
Through the glass, she watched Iris stop a local. She couldn’t hear what they said, but the man gestured toward the distillery.
"Shit." Lily's magic exploded outward. Vines burst from every crack, flowers carpeted the floor, and that damned apple tree from yesterday started growing through the back wall.
"Control it," Gray growled, his hand tightening on her hip. “Focus on me.”
"I can't. Not with them here. Not with the moon."
"Look at me." He turned her face toward his. “Take a breath. Match mine." She tried, but her lungs wouldn't cooperate.
"Put your hand on my chest." He pressed her palm flat against his heartbeat. "Feel that? Focus on that. Nothing else exists right now."
She was spiraling, panic and lunar power creating a feedback loop.
Gray spun her around and crushed his mouth to hers.
The kiss was brutal, desperate, all the pent-up need from last night pouring through. His tongue claimed hers while his hands gripped hard enough to bruise. She kissed back just as fiercely, needing his strength to ground her magic.
When they broke apart, the vines had stopped growing.
"Better?" His voice was rough.
"Gray, they're going to—"
The door chimed.
Iris entered first, her face a mask of maternal worry. Those pale blue eyes found Lily and widened with relief.
"Oh, Lily. Sweet child. Look at you."
Gray moved so fast Lily barely tracked it. One moment he was beside her, the next between them, every line of his body screaming predator.
"This is private property. Get out."
"You must be the one who's been sheltering her." Iris's voice held no threat, only sadness. "I understand your protectiveness, but you don't know what you're dealing with."
"I know she doesn't want to go with you, and that’s good enough for me."
Sage and Willow entered, flanking Iris with worried expressions. Willow's eyes were red from crying, but her cousin still stood with them.
"Lily, please," Willow said, voice raw. "Look around you. Look at what your magic is doing. Unchecked you could hurt someone.”
Lily hated to admit it, but Willow was right. Her uncontrolled magic was too volatile.
"We're not here to hurt you," Iris said gently. "We're here to help before it's too late. Before someone gets injured. Before you—" She stopped, gaze flicking to the crescent scar on Lily's wrist.
"I don't want your help."
"Oh, child." Iris stepped closer. Gray's growl rumbled through the room. "Want and need are different things. You're sick, Lily. The magic is consuming you. Can't you feel it?"
She could. Gods, she could feel it eating her from the inside, the moon pulling her apart cell by cell.
"That's not sickness," Gray said. "That's power."
Iris looked at him with pity. "You're a wolf. You don't understand witch magic. Without proper binding, without the ritual to channel and contain it, she'll—"
"I said I don't want it!" Lily's voice cracked.
"The bloodline will survive no matter what," Iris said softly, almost to herself. "This is a small sacrifice for the greater good."
Lily's blood turned to ice. "What?"
"Nothing you need concern yourself with now, child." Iris's smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Your mother said the same thing." Sage's words struck hard. "She refused the binding because she too thought she was strong enough to handle raw magic during a lunar peak."
Lily's knees went weak. Gray's confusion pulsed through their fledgling bond, but his protective stance never wavered.
Iris continued, “We buried her. Don't make us bury you too. The ritual isn't a punishment, it's salvation."
"It's a cage."
"It's safety." Iris pulled out a black rose, preserved with magic to never decay. "For you and everyone around you. Look at him." She nodded toward Gray. "You care for this wolf, don't you? What happens when your magic explodes tonight and he's standing at your side?"
The thought made bile rise in her throat. Gray burned by her uncontrolled power. Gray hurt because she was too selfish to accept the binding.
"That won't happen," Gray said.