SPENCER
Tender and warm, like a ray of sunshine, a light touch on my back moved up to my neck. Smiling, I opened my eyes.
The curtains were half-closed, not thanks to me, and by the orange glow in the sky I saw through the gap I could tell it was dawn.
Finn drew himself closer, and I felt the same pleasant warmth envelop me. His hand slid between my thighs, and my extra-sensitive morning body moaned in all the right places.
My heart racing, I turned around and looked into his glowing eyes, then my lips reached for his chest and kissed their way up to his. Lying on his side, he ran his hand down my back, and his leg snuck between my legs, making every inch of my body stretch to his. He pushed his body into mine, and as he drew his face closer, my lips parted, welcoming the deep kiss.
* * *
“It’s almost seven,” he whispered, brushing my lower lip with his thumb. “I better go to my room before Clare storms in with a big club.”
“She might,” I chuckled. “So yes, I’ll let you go because I care about this body too much to let it be bruised.” I ran my hand over a mark on his upper arm that looked like a ring with an arrow shot through. “Finn, is this a scar?”
“You can say so.” He sighed. “It's a mark. The werewolves burned it into my arm when I was a kid. They don’t kill small kids, but they mark the hybrids so that every wolf or witch would recognize the outcast.”
Oh my God! They burn a mark into the kids’ skin?
“This is just—Wait, this means, that if they catch me, we will have the same—”
“No one is going to catch you. Besides, they do it to kids who haven't shifted yet, otherwise, it would have healed like any other injury. As the kids grow, the wound heals and becomes a scar, part of their skin, and when they become werewolves, it stays with them forever.”
He planted a kiss on my lips and got out of bed. He pulled his pants on, grabbed his shirt, and stopped next to the door, listening.
“She’s already in the kitchen.”
“How did you. . .” I sat up. “You can hear all the way downstairs?”
“She’s turning on the coffeemaker.” He came back to give me another kiss.
“Are you going to go for a run?”
“No.” His fingers dove into my hair, and his lips touched mine. “I’ll take a shower and go have coffee with your mom.”
“Good.”
After Finn left, I laid down again and stared at the ceiling. There was one thing that bothered me. That guy in town. What if he was the wolf? Shouldn’t I tell Finn about him? That I met him before, and that maybe it wasn’t a coincidence.
I heaved a sigh. No. That could wait.I was happy right now, and it looked like Finn was too. I didn’t want to ruin this perfect morning.
* * *
FINN
I took a quick shower, put some fresh clothes on, and headed downstairs. Passing by Spencer’s bedroom door, I caught myself smiling, and I barely stopped myself from opening it just to get a glimpse of her. She could’ve fallen asleep, and if she did, I didn’t want to wake her.
Clare wasn’t in the kitchen. I glanced out of the window and saw her sitting on the patio. I poured myself a cup of coffee and joined her.
“Morning,” I said, sinking into the cushion of the wicker chair.
“It’s so nice here, and so quiet.” She looked around, then fixed her eyes on the cup in her hands, and with a knowing smile, asked, “Is she awake too?”
I nearly choked on my coffee.
“I don’t know,” I said quickly.
“Don’t you?” She took a sip from her cup, then turned her eyes on me. “How hard is it to see if the eyes of the person lying next to you are open or closed?”
“Clare.” I nervously rubbed my fingers against my forehead. “I’m sorry. I—”
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m only thirty-seven. I remember how it feels. And I know she missed you after you left.”
“I missed her too.” My voice was quiet but firm. “And I think you must know by now that I would never do anything to hurt her.”
“I know. And that’s why I’m not angry.” She sighed. “You make her happy. And you’re glowing too. That’s all I want. I want her to be happy, and I just wish we knew how to . . .” She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Clare, we will save her.” I put down my cup. “We still have time, and we will find the loophole.”
“I’ve been looking for it for years. There’s a reason they call this a curse, Finn.”
“You were alone and scared. You have me now. And I’ll do everything I can to help her survive. And I have an idea. I gave Spencer a bracelet. I don’t know if you saw it, but—”
“Yeah, she showed it to me.” She looked at me with her watering eyes. “There are symbols on it, but I don’t know what their combination means.”
“They’re meant to suppress the magical powers. When my grandmother was young, she couldn’t control her magic. So her mother gave her that bracelet to stop her from blowing things up. Like I said before, we can’t remove any of Spencer’s powers, but if we could make her magic weaker, then maybe her wolf would be able to overcome the witch. Though I’m afraid the bracelet alone wouldn’t be enough, and she will most definitely lose it while turning. But I think that’s the way to go.”
“I need to look at the symbols again.” There was a spark of hope in her eyes. “I’ll have to do some research to figure out how they work, then maybe we could put them on something bigger that can stay on during the transition. Like a long necklace. But just putting them together on some other object wouldn’t do the trick. There must be some incantation, or spell that goes with them.”
“Come with me.”
I led her to the library. From one of the top shelves, I pulled out a few journals with old, dusty bindings.
“Those are my ancestors' grimoires.” I put them on top of the other books on the table in front of the couch. “Maybe you’ll find something here.”
Clare sat down, opened one of them, and carefully turned a few withered creamy pages.
“Yeah,” she muttered under her breath. “If they made the bracelet themselves, they could’ve left notes.” She looked up at me. “Thank you.”
“I would help you, but if we leave Spencer alone, she’d wonder what we are up to. Maybe if we told her what we’re looking for, she could—”
“No.”
“We could just say that it might help her during the shift.”
“No. She’ll start asking questions . . . and . . .” Looking startled, she pointed both her hands at the grimoires. “What if there’s something in there she doesn't need to know? Go. I’ll join you for breakfast then you could take her for a walk or something.”
Clare was right. She was scared that Spencer could come across some information about the curse or Great Alpha, which was possible. I haven’t read all the grimoires, so I didn’t know what to expect.
“Okay. I’ll keep her away from here.”
* * *
SPENCER
I came downstairs and followed the mixed smell of fresh coffee and frying bacon to the kitchen.
“So no cereal?” I beamed.
Finn, who was cutting bread, dropped the knife and moved toward me.
“I decided to release you from all that hard work.” He smirked. “Come here.” He pulled me into his arms, brushed his fingers through my hair, and gave me a gentle kiss. Then he looked down at my short, sleeveless sand-colored dress and raised a brow. “I love it.”
I beamed again and kissed him in return.
“Where’s Mom?”
“She’s in the library.” He led me to the table and drew a chair for me. “Sit.” Then he added a few slices of bacon to the plate with fried eggs in front of me and glanced at the toaster on the island behind him. “Toast is coming up. I’ll go get Clare.”
I picked up the glass of orange juice next to my plate and took a few gulps, and as I took a bite from the bacon, Mom’s hands laid on my shoulders.
“Hi, honey.” She planted a kiss on the top of my head and sank into the chair next to me. “Everything smells so good.”
“I know.” I glanced at Finn, who took a seat across from us. “You are too good at this being a host thing.”
“Depends on the guests,” he smiled.
“See,” I turned to Mom. “We’re special.”
Mom chuckled.
“Did you sleep okay?” I asked her, noticing the dark circles under her eyes.
“Like a rock.”
Mom and Finn turned their eyes away from each other as if they were caught in a soundless conversation.
Okaaay. That didn’t look suspicious at all.
The toast popped out and Finn got up and returned to his seat, holding a plate with honey-colored, crunchy toast. He held it out for Mom first and she took one.
“Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” She picked up her knife and reached for the butter.
“Mom, you still haven't looked around. It’s very beautiful out there,” I said after we helped Finn clean up the kitchen.
But once again, she refused to take a walk with us.
“I’m not feeling well. I probably shouldn’t have had that last glass of whiskey yesterday.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and retreated to the library.
“It’s okay,” said Finn. “We can give her a tour any time.”
Any time? Does this mean we can stay here Mom’s entire vacation?
“Right,” I agreed.
We came out to the backyard and this time Finn took a different path.
“Finn, what's going to happen after I turn?”
“I’ll teach you how to fight. And at the same time, I’ll teach you how to control your strength.”
“So it means Mom and I will be here for a little while, right?” I asked carefully.
“As long as you need and wish.” He stopped. “Why are you asking that?” He looked a little confused. “You weren’t thinking of leaving after the shift, were you?”
I drew closer, locked my arms around his belt, and his hands cupped my neck.
“No, I wasn’t.” I shook my head.
“Good. Because for a moment there, I thought maybe you missed Brian or something.” He tilted his head.
“Don’t be silly.” I rolled my eyes. “I just wanted to know . . . you know?” I shrugged. “I’m not ready to leave you.”
“And I’m not ready to let you go. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. Even if you go to college—”
I didn’t let him finish. I pulled myself on my tiptoes so I could reach his lips and kissed him. His fingers forked into my hair. One of his hands sat tight on my back and pushed me to him so that I wouldn’t stop.
“I want to see you turn,” I murmured against his lips.
“Hey,” he grinned, “if you want to see me naked again, just say so.”
“Oh, shut up,” I laughed.
“Okay.” He pulled back to take off his shirt, but I stopped him.
“No, not now. Tonight, after dinner.”
“Is that a date?”
I stepped around him and started walking backward. “I would like to think so.”
Behind Finn, deep between the trees, I saw a stone wall of a small building. I stopped.
“What’s that?” I pointed my finger toward it.
Finn glanced back.
“Oh, that. It’s my family crypt.”
“You have it here?” I walked back to him.
“Yes. It was my grandfather’s decision to build a crypt on our territory.”
“Is it okay if I take a look?”
“Come on.” He took my hand and pulled me along.
It looked newer and a bit bigger than the ones I’ve seen at cemeteries. We approached the small iron gate in front of the double doors with rose bushes on both sides. Over the entrance, carved into the stone mantel, was the family’s last name, Leatherwood.
Finn pulled open the gate, and then the crypt doors.
“I’ve never been inside one,” I said quietly.
It felt like walking into a church. Large candles sat on the stone stand under a small, stained-glass window on the wall opposite the entrance. There were two nameplates on the right side, and one on the left.
“Those are my parents.” Finn pointed to the right. “And this one is my grandfather.” He pointed to the nameplate on his left.
I raised my hand, turned my palm, and the candles lit up.
“That’s nice.” Finn's face lit with excitement. “No one has used magic around here since my grandfather died.”
I drew closer to the nameplates and read in a whisper, “Mason Leatherwood. Cassandra Leatherwood. Wayne Leatherwood.” I turned around. “So your grandmother isn’t here?”
“No. She died long before grandpa and was buried by her family, next to other witches from her bloodline. But grandpa wished to be here, next to his son.”
The sad truth about our kind was starting to sink in. Finn was raised by his grandfather, and because Finn was a hybrid, it seemed nobody else from the witch or the wolf side of his bloodline was brave enough, or simply wished, to get involved in his upbringing, or show their connection to him in any way.
My heart sank. He has no family at all.
The day we arrived, Mom said that my grandma supported Finn’s parents and took the secret of this place to her grave. Only now, I understood what that meant.
At least my grandma was a brave and decent witch.
I heaved a deep sigh as Finn took my hand and walked me out.