Chapter 2
Wyatt
Moonlight filtered through the stained-glass windows of the old brownstone bakery.
I took a deep inhale of the sourdough, sugar, and butter smell, then let it out slowly.
I loved the Full Moon Bakery, the cinnamon and sweetness, the metallic tang of cooling ovens, and even the smell of the disinfectant drying on the freshly mopped floors.
All the bread had been racked for cooling, and the daily orders were nestled safely in their boxes, awaiting our rounds.
It would be a miracle if I got to sleep by noon.
I could’ve used the very expensive stand mixer I’d bought last year to cut the time down, but I needed to get a little bit of aggression out tonight.
The full moon was days away, and I was more agitated than usual.
The demon sigil branded on my collarbone was barely suppressing my monthly shift, and it was getting more difficult to remain whole.
Especially after that encounter at the Witch’s Brew.
My muscles tightened. Another alarm was going off in my primal consciousness, and there was no way of relieving it. Not in the way I needed to. I took another deep breath, calming whatever nerves I still had control over.
“What am I doing?” I groaned into the empty kitchen.
Since the day Willow and I had met, I’d promise myself that it would be the last day she didn’t know. I’ll tell her tomorrow, I’d think. Always tomorrow. Then I’d finally confess how desperately I needed her. And the next day would end with me chickening out—again.
For years.
If only I were just the local baker and Willow were just the local café owner. Simple. Maybe we could’ve lived in this little daydream for a while longer.
But we were running out of time.
And like overly proofed dough after it came out of the oven, the walls were going to cave in at any moment.
When the front door creaked open, I spun around with a snarl.
“Put your teeth away. You sound as ruthless as a Pomeranian,” a familiar voice said with a tsk. “Not at all how a pack leader should greet an intruder.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hello, Mother,” I replied tightly. “Take that as your monthly reminder that I am not the pack leader.”
“And by the moon and all the stars, don’t I know it,” she shot back.
I should’ve known better than to spar with my mother this close to the full moon. She was more formidable in verbal combat than anyone else in the pack.
My mother’s silhouette was framed in the doorway, backlit by the golden glow of the streetlamp.
As always, she exuded werewolf royalty. She wore a fur stole over a heavy velvet dress and had painted her lips bloodred.
I didn’t bother asking if she’d just come from some extravagant gala or charity auction in the city.
She always dressed like she was the next Hollywood starlet and demanded the same regard.
I took off my apron with a sigh and threw it onto the flour-dusted countertop. Whatever she’d come for was going to demand all of my focus and restraint.
“Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind, or should I let you berate me for a bit longer?”
She laughed, flashing her ever-so-slightly elongated canines. “What has your hackles up this evening?” She batted her lashes, feigning innocence. “Can’t a mother come to check on her two children? I haven’t seen your sister in a couple of days.”
“Eloise is out with friends,” I supplied, swiping my hair off my forehead in an act I knew would displease her. She hated how long my hair was. And by my mother’s souring expression, my rebellion was noted.
Her eyes scoured the glass counter, probably looking for smudges. “It’s good she’s reconnecting with her pack after being gone for so long.”
“She was only in college for four years,” I muttered. “And she still came home for all the major holidays and summers. She wasn’t lost at sea.”
I didn’t even attempt to hide the jealousy in my voice. Eloise had gotten to attend a paranormal university up north—an opportunity I hadn’t been afforded because of the lines of pack succession. I’d been forced to stay close to home while my little sister had run off to have her adventures.
“Still . . .” Mom trailed a finger across the chair beside her to inspect for dust. “It’s nice to see one of my children has friends, at least.”
Oh, Sandra Sullivan invented twisting the knife.
“I have friends,” I shot back.
“Wolf friends?”
I folded my arms, and my mother’s smile stretched in knowing. “What do you want, Mom?”
“What’s best for my children and the pack,” she instantly replied, and I scoffed. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Unlikely.”
“You know,” she hedged, wandering farther into the bakery and surveying a tray of cupcakes with disdain. “I had lunch with Aisling Farris and her mother yesterday.”
Well, we’re finally getting to the fucking point of this visit, at least.
“You don’t say,” I bit out.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how she is? You and Aisling used to be so close as pups.”
“We are still friendly.”
“Clearly not friendly enough,” Mom retorted before I could open my mouth. “She says you two haven’t talked in months.”
“Did she admit that under your intense grilling?”
“She was as poised as ever.” Mom shrugged. “Some might say regal, even.”
“Mom,” I snapped.
“Is it so wrong to think she’d make an excellent wolf queen, coming from a wolf queen herself?” She feigned innocence. “Maybe it’s time to stop going to that café, Wyatt.”
“You know what Willow is to me,” I countered.
“Yes.” Mom’s eyebrows lifted. “A celestial mistake. One that can be ignored. Just as your father did.” She placed her hand on her chest, prominently displaying the obsidian crescent moon in the center of a crown of diamonds on her ring finger.
“I loved your father even though no magic preordained it. The best years of my life were spent with him. The moon may decide for us, but I chose this life. I ignored what my foolish teenage heart wanted and prioritized the pack and your father’s place over everything. ”
The years rolled back, and for a brief moment, I glimpsed the young woman my mother had once been and all the choices similarly placed in front of her.
As the daughter of one of the pack’s most prominent families, she had been betrothed to my father when they’d been pups.
Their mating bond had eventually taken hold, but only after my father—and the pack elders—had forced another one away.
A ghost of the life that could have been flashed in her heavily kohl-lined eyes. “And it was the right choice. It gave me you, your sister, and so many happy years before your dad left us.”
There was the guilt, right on schedule. I had wondered when it would make its grand entrance.
“I know,” I added more mildly, thinking of a man I could only remember in foggy memories and clear photographs.
At least I had that. Eloise had still been in Mom’s belly when Dad died.
He’d just been about to take his role as pack alpha from his father when it happened.
My grandfather had hung on to the position well past his prime to give me a chance to grow up, to not force me into that role when I was only a child.
I had buried my head in the sand, hoping he’d never step down, never call upon me.
But I was well and truly grown now.
“Your grandfather bought Full Moon Bakery for Eloise because it was her dream to become a baker,” Mom muttered. “And he’s let it be your sandbox for far too long. But now your sister is home, Wyatt, the rightful owner of the bakery, and it’s time for you to take up your rightful role too.”
Instead of all my duties and responsibilities and loyalties—all of the things I should’ve been prioritizing—my thoughts converged on a single point. And when the wolf within me roiled beneath my skin, I knew that the beast and my own mind were aligned.
All either of us could think about was a blonde-haired café owner.
I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of everything collapsing on top of me. “Soon.”
Mom walked over and placed a hand on my cheek. “Soon,” she echoed, giving me a look only a mother could—equally adoring and scolding and concerned—and then she turned and strode out the door, leaving me with my storming thoughts.
I’d been watching it looming on the horizon for so long, a lightning-streaked reckoning threatening to roll in, and yet I still felt entirely unprepared now that it was here. And I knew deep in my bones that I couldn’t hold the line any longer.
Something had to give.