My, What Big Teeth You Have (Witchfully Wed #4)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

ELIZABETH

The mistpape vine wrapped around Elizabeth’s wrist tightened its grip, refusing to release the tendril she’d been trying to guide toward the sunstone plant on the neighboring shelf.

“Now, now,” Elizabeth said, stroking one of the vine’s leaves with her free hand. “I know you prefer darkness and she craves light, but that’s precisely why you need each other. Balance, dear one. Always balance.”

The vine shivered but didn’t loosen.

Her companion, a fluffy cat named Grimble, snorted from his perch on top of a cabinet filled with crystallized dewdrops. Stubborn thing. Wonder where it gets that from, he said in her mind.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.

” Elizabeth continued her gentle coaxing, letting her magic seep into the vine’s structure.

She’d never force it. Just provide the sweetest kind of encouragement.

The mistpape had spent decades growing in one direction, away from anything bright or warm.

Asking it to change now required patience.

Rather like asking a certain scholarly granddaughter to consider marriage and romance.

The kettle on her workbench began to whistle, steam rising in spirals.

Elizabeth kept one hand on the mistpape while reaching for the heat source with her magic, lowering the flame to a simmer.

The timing had to be exact. Too long and the starflower petals would release their prophetic properties too strongly, showing her futures that hadn’t yet solidified.

Too short and she’d see nothing but vague possibilities.

You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be. Grimble stretched, his claws clicking on the cabinet’s glass surface. Yank the vine over and be done with it.

“Force creates resistance. Persuasion creates partnership.” Elizabeth smiled as the mistpape finally, slowly, began to extend its tendril toward the sunstone plant. “See? She needed to understand the benefit.”

And you think you can persuade Victoria the same way? The girl who once spent four days straight in her laboratory trying to synthesize dragon fire and only emerged because Cyrene physically dragged her out?

“Victoria is passionate about her work. That’s admirable.”

Victoria doesn’t believe she needs anything beyond her work. That’s problematic.

The mistpape’s tendril touched the sunstone plant’s nearest leaf. Both specimens glowed, one silver and the other a pale pink. Where they connected, the light merged into something new, a soft rose that spread through both plants.

Elizabeth released the mistpape, happy with the result. “Even the most independent souls benefit from connection. They just need the right match.”

Speaking of which. Grimble’s tail flicked toward the greenhouse entrance. You have a visitor.

Light shimmered near the door and a messenger sprite no larger than Elizabeth’s thumb zipped into the greenhouse. Its wings beat so fast they blurred.

“Mistress Thornwick.” The sprite’s voice chimed like tiny bells. “The coven sends word.”

Elizabeth waved to a small cushioned platform she kept specifically for sprite visitors, complete with a thimble-sized cup of nectar and crystallized honey. “Please, little one, rest while you deliver your message.”

The sprite landed, immediately reaching for the nectar. Between sips, it spoke. “The borders hold well, Mistress Thornwick. Your granddaughters’ alliances have given us more time than we dared hope.”

“But?” Elizabeth asked, already knowing there would be complications. There were always complications.

“But the pressure points along the veil are growing more pronounced.” The sprite’s glow dimmed. “The coven estimates you have perhaps two months before the imbalance becomes critical. The wolf shifter territories must be secured.”

Elizabeth nodded, unsurprised. She’d felt the pressure building herself, like a pattern with three corners completed but the fourth still missing. “Thank you. Please tell the coven I will make the arrangements.”

The sprite finished its nectar, bowed, and flew out of the greenhouse in a shower of sparkles.

Two months, Grimble said. That’s nowhere near enough time to convince your marriage-resistant granddaughter to wed the most intimidating shifter alpha in five territories.

“Your faith in me is touching.”

I’ve made a solid point. He jumped down to the workbench, settling near the still-steaming kettle. Victoria barely noticed when Lord Willow tried courting her last year. She thought his love poems were sample data for a linguistics study.

“Lord Willow was entirely wrong for her.”

And you think a wolf king who growls at diplomatic functions is right?

Elizabeth lifted the kettle, pouring the now-perfect tea into a porcelain cup.

The liquid swirled with colors that shifted as it settled, deep greens mixing with red and yellow.

“I think Victoria needs someone who won’t be intimidated by her brilliance or put off by her single-minded focus.

Someone who understands what it means to be consumed by duty and responsibility. ”

Someone who’ll challenge her instead of worshiping her.

“Oh, I’m confident he’ll worship her as well, given time.

” Elizabeth carried her cup to the reading table, a smooth circle of polished stone that showed reflections like dark water.

“Feral needs someone who won’t submit just because he’s powerful.

Someone who’ll stand her ground and demand he meet her as an equal. ”

This sounds like a recipe for constant arguing.

“Or passionate partnership.” Elizabeth settled into her chair, cradling the teacup between her palms. Warmth spread through her fingers as she gazed into the tea’s depths. “Let’s see what the leaves have to say about it.”

She sipped slowly, letting the tea’s magic work through her system. The starflower petals activated her divination abilities, the silvered moss grounded the visions in reality, and the dragon scale essence added enough unpredictability to show her true possibilities rather than fixed paths.

When she’d drunk half the cup’s contents, she swirled the remainder three times clockwise and poured it onto the dark surface.

The tea leaves scattered across the stone, and Elizabeth leaned closer.

At first, the patterns seemed much too busy to discern. Leaves clumped in tight clusters here and there, with no clear organization. But as her magic touched them, images began to form.

A laboratory materialized in miniature, complete with bubbling beakers and scattered notes.

Beside it, King Feral’s world took shape, a cluster of huge, ancient trees with trunks so wide you could fit Elizabeth’s manor house inside.

Multiple levels. Spiral staircases. And natural windows where trees had been trained to grow in specific patterns.

In the center of it all, the alpha tree, Feral’s residence placed at the highest canopy level for surveying his territory.

Inside his dwelling, she spied pelts and weapons mounted on the wall, plus a large, lush bed, and an enormous hearth where an equally large fire crackled.

The two spaces couldn’t have been more different, yet as Elizabeth watched, thin lines of light began connecting them. A book from the laboratory drifted toward Feral’s home. A bow from his wall floated to the laboratory’s desk.

The objects didn’t fight or clash. They existed in both spaces at the same time, as if they’d always belonged together.

Well? Grimble padded closer, sniffing at the leaves. What catastrophe do you see?

“I see complexity.” Elizabeth traced one finger above the pattern, careful not to disturb it. The images shifted, showing new configurations. Victoria bent over a microscope while a massive wolf paced behind her. In another, the wolf lay sleeping while Victoria sat nearby, reading by firelight.

The pattern darkened. Walls rose between the laboratory and sitting area, thick and impenetrable. The connecting lights flickered and dimmed.

“There’s resistance,” Elizabeth said. “From both sides, I suspect. They’ll fight the connection even as it forms.”

Victoria thinks emotions are inefficient, and from what I’ve heard, Feral thinks anything that isn’t pack is unnecessary. Grimble’s whiskers twitched. You’d be asking them to overcome their fundamental beliefs about what they need.

The tea leaves swirled again, this time without Elizabeth touching them. New images formed, these ones less clear. A flash of silver fur. Victoria’s face, shocked and angry. Books flying through the air. A howl that shook the leaves themselves.

And in the center of the mess, something new. Two figures standing back-to-back, facing outward together. The bond between them growing stronger as Elizabeth watched.

The image held for three heartbeats before dissolving.

Elizabeth sat back, frowning. “They’ll agree to the match.”

You sound certain.

“Victoria will agree because she understands duty, and me fixing her up with someone will be much easier than going through a courtship that will take time from her studies. She’s already seen her cousins go through this without a problem.

Feral will agree because his wolf already knows she’s meant to be his, even if his human side hasn’t caught up yet.

” Elizabeth tapped her fingers on the table.

“The question isn’t whether they’ll marry.

It’s how to help them move from agreement to actual partnership. ”

You can’t force emotions any more than you can force that mistpape.

“No, but I can create opportunities for connection.” She stood, moving back to her work area. The plants around her stirred, sensing her shift in focus. “They’ll try to avoid each other. Keep things purely transactional. My job is to make avoidance impossible.”

Grimble groaned. I hear that scheming tone in your voice.

“You love it.”

I tolerate it because you feed me.

Elizabeth smiled, already running through possibilities. Victoria would bury herself in research. Feral would lose himself in pack responsibilities. Both would use their work as armor against actually having to interact on any meaningful level.

Unless something disrupted those patterns.

The mistpape vine on the shelf had fully integrated with the sunstone plant now, their combined glow illuminating that corner of the greenhouse. Two utterly different species, thriving because they’d been convinced to try.

Elizabeth’s smile widened.

She moved to the center of the greenhouse, where a small bell hung from a flowering branch. It was tuned to a very specific magical frequency, one that only a few creatures could hear.

She rang it once.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a chittering sound came from the rafters, followed by the rustle of leaves as a small creature bounded across the greenhouse’s roof.

Acorn landed on the workbench in a flurry of gray fur and twitching tail. Victoria’s companion squirrel studied Elizabeth with bright eyes, his head tilted in question.

“Hello, friend.” Elizabeth offered him a hazelnut from the jar she kept stocked. “I have a task for you, if you’re willing.”

Acorn accepted the nut, holding it between his paws while waiting for her to speak.

Elizabeth knelt so she was eye level with the squirrel. If Elizabeth wanted to help her granddaughter, she needed Acorn’s cooperation.

She leaned in close, keeping her voice low.

Acorn’s tail went still as he listened. After a moment, he made a series of chirps that managed to convey both understanding and exasperation.

“I know,” Elizabeth said. “She won’t like it. But she’ll need you more than ever in the coming months. You’ll help?”

The squirrel chattered again, this time with resignation. He grabbed two more hazelnuts from the jar, stuffed them in his cheeks, and bounded toward the greenhouse door.

Elizabeth flicked her fingers, opening the door with magic, and Acorn disappeared into the night.

What did you tell him? Grimble asked.

“That’s between me and the squirrel.”

You’re going to give Victoria gray hairs before her wedding even happens.

“She’ll forgive me when she realizes what I’ve done for her.

” Elizabeth returned to the table, studying the tea leaves one more time.

The patterns had settled now, showing a path that was neither straight nor simple but was definitely there.

“All my granddaughters deserve happiness. They’ve just needed guidance finding it. ”

The plants around her blazed with light, responding to her mood. The mistpape and sunstone glowed brighter. Rare night orchids that only bloomed once a decade unfurled their petals. Even the stubborn frost fern in the corner extended new fronds, its usual icy personality thawing.

Show-offs, Grimble huffed, but he sounded more amused than annoyed.

Elizabeth gathered her tea things, rinsing the cup and returning it to its shelf. The greenhouse would maintain itself while she prepared for the next phase. She had arrangements to make, a letter to write, and one very specific invitation to extend.

King Feral wouldn’t come willingly to discuss a marriage contract. He’d already shown his reluctance by leaving Sasha’s ball early. But there were other ways to bring a wolf king to heel, especially when that king’s animal side had already decided what it wanted.

“Two months,” she said aloud, more to herself than Grimble. “That’s plenty of time.”

“For disaster.”

“For magic and romance and everything wonderful to happen.”

She hurried toward the greenhouse exit but paused at the door. The combined glow of the mistpape and sunstone caught her eye one more time. They’d been separate for a very long time, each thriving in their own way. But together, they created something neither could make alone.

Victoria and Feral would squabble. They’d argue and resist and try every method possible to maintain their independence while fulfilling the marriage contract.

And through it all, Elizabeth would be watching, waiting for the moment when resistance changed into bliss.

The borders needed this alliance.

But more than that, her youngest granddaughter and the wolf king needed each other.

Elizabeth smiled as she stepped out of the greenhouse, leaving the plants behind. Grimble followed, still grumbling about possible complications.

Above them, the moon hung full, casting wavering light across the garden.

Perfect timing for wolves and weddings and the most complicated match Elizabeth had ever attempted.

She couldn’t wait to begin.