Chapter Twenty-Two-Evie
“Um, before we go in there,” I said, turning to face the group gathering behind me, “I just want to say—if this starts looking dicey, all of you need to go. No arguments.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Not happening,” Jaxson said immediately, his tone like iron wrapped in velvet.
I turned to him, heart thudding. “Jaxson, you’re not even from here. You don’t have to risk anything for this town. For me.”
He stepped forward, closing the space between us like it was nothing.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Darlin’. You are exactly why I’m here. And this town? It’s your heart. That makes it mine, too.”
My throat worked around a knot I couldn’t quite swallow.
Gaia help me, I wanted to kiss him again. But now wasn’t the time.
Not with the sky turning a sickly green, grayish color just over the cemetery gates and a thick wave of dread rolling off the place like fog from the River Styx.
Ryan gave a dramatic sigh. “We’re not leaving either.”
Conrad nodded. “We might not have magic, but we’ve got claws and muscle and really great hair. We’re in.”
Donny crossed her arms, still seated sidesaddle on Maribella’s handlebars. “You know we’re not going anywhere. I already canceled my blowout appointment for this.”
“Which was very brave of her,” Maribella chimed in, breathless from pedaling uphill in wedge heels.
I gave a shaky laugh and looked at the people surrounding me—this ridiculous, brave, wonderful mess of a group—and my heart squeezed.
They weren’t just backing me.
They believed in me.
And that was something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
“But if it makes you feel better,” Jaxson said, then turned. “Where is your sheriff?” he asked, voice steady but tight with concern.
As if summoned by name—and probably overhearing everything with those ridiculous goat ears—Sheriff Davis slowly made his way up Main Street.
Stooped and wiry, the ancient goat Shifter moved like molasses on a cold day.
His tweed jacket flapped in the breeze like a cape, though the only thing he’d battled lately was high cholesterol.
“Someone say my name?” he wheezed when he finally reached us.
Honestly, I loved the old coot. But he couldn’t even outpace Miss Spritely on market day, let alone fight off the creeping darkness that was currently twisting its way over my family’s cemetery gates like a demonic kudzu vine.
I turned just in time to see the iron bars pulse with oily green ooze, the sky above them darkening to the kind of gray that screamed bad omens ahead.
“No disrespect, Sheriff,” Jaxson said, jaw tight, “but Evelyn is about to go in there alone to find two kids who vanished on their way to lessons this morning. Don’t you think that’s your job?”
The old goat Shifter gave Jaxson a long look before shaking his head slowly.
“Son, I’ve had a good long run, but I wouldn’t last five minutes in a tussle with whatever’s behind that gate.”
I opened my mouth to speak, heart pounding.
I didn’t want Jaxson to get more involved than he already was.
But before I could say anything—he opened his big, dumb, Wolfy mouth.
“Deputize me,” Jaxson said, turning to the sheriff.
“You can’t—” I began, stepping toward him.
He looked at me then—really looked—and my words froze in my throat.
“I respect you, Evelyn. And I know you’ve got more magic in your pinky than I do in my whole body. But you are not going in there alone.” His voice was calm, firm. “Deputize me.”
Sheriff Davis let out a low grunt and nodded. “I’ll do you one better.”
With a few ancient words that shimmered with quiet power, the goat Shifter removed the badge from his chest and pressed it into Jaxson’s palm.
My eyes went wide. “What have you done?”
Jaxson didn’t hesitate. “Whatever I can to protect you.”
My throat closed. I’d faced Vampires, Banshees, and a Slime Demon with halitosis so bad it melted fences—but this?
This was terrifying.
Because it was love.
Or the beginning of it.
“I know it’s fast for you,” he continued, his silver-gray eyes locking with mine, “but we Shifters know when we’ve found our mates, Evie.
I’ll do anything to give you the time you need to accept it.
But I can’t do that if you go off and get yourself killed.
So, now that I’m the interim sheriff of Castor’s Corner—at least until a proper election can be held—I’m going in there with you, Madam Mayor. ”
My chest cracked open like a spell jar dropped from the top shelf.
No man had ever put himself on the line for me like this. Not once.
My whole life had been a series of me getting shit done because no one else would.
I was the responsible one, the strong one, the Witch who kept the lid on the town and the smile on her face.
And here was this man—this Wolf—trying to share the weight.
Trying to keep me safe.
My heart thundered as I crossed the distance between us. I reached for him, fisting my hands in his shirt, pulling him down, and kissed him. Slow. Deep. With every ounce of the impossible storm of affection and gratitude and lust I felt tangled up inside me.
When I pulled back, his eyes were a little glassy. Then, the confusion hit.
“Forgive me,” I whispered.
His brows pulled together. “Evie—?”
And that’s when the paralysis spell hit him.
Mid-sentence.
Jaxson’s muscles locked up, and his body froze just as he realized what I’d done.
“Hold him up!” I barked to Ryan and Conrad.
Thank Gaia for Shifter reflexes.
They caught him before he went full tree trunk and smacked the pavement.
I turned toward the growing crowd, my voice strong even as my heart fractured.
“No one is to follow me. Not even him. The spell will wear off in an hour. I will be back by then.”
“Evie—” Donny started.
“I have to,” I said simply. “If something happens to me, it’s on you two to keep the town safe. You know that.”
Maribella looked stricken, but she nodded.
Every Witch has a crucible.
A reckoning.
This was mine.
I felt the power hum inside me.
Stronger than before.
Full and rich and ready to burn down whatever lay beyond those gates.
Not because I was reckless.
Because I was ready.
I straightened my spine, lifted my chin, and stepped toward the gate.
The vines peeled back like they knew I was coming.
“Well, that was spooky as fuck,” Maribella whispered, barely audible.
“Shh,” I said.
“Sorry.”
With one last glance at my friends—my sisters—and the man who would walk through fire for me, I crossed the threshold.
This was my moment.
And I wasn’t afraid anymore.