15. Kirsten

The ache between my legs remained all through the night and into the morning. After Jace left, I'd nearly tripped over myself to get to my vibrator again, but rather than satisfy my needs, it had only served to inflame them even more. Now, lying awake in bed the next morning, the sexual tension was pulled taut like a rubber band stretched to the breaking point.

Damn him, I thought. Why am I so attracted to him?

This was not something I wanted or needed right now. Hell, it had been almost four years since my last actual relationship, and for good reason. Most guys I'd been with had wanted to use me in some way. I wasn't blind. I was self-aware enough to know I was conventionally attractive, and men saw that and wanted to be near it. Most wanted arm candy to show off or a hot body to have sex with. Every man I'd been with had been a user of one sort or another. In four years, I'd had one or two little flings that had lasted a week or two, but other than that? A desert of sex that had left me parched and desperate to quench my thirst.

Now, I had Jace on my doorstep, and I was having a hard time saying no. I wanted to say no, didn't I? My magic was influencing me more than I could have imagined.

I glanced at the vibrator on my nightstand. It beckoned to me like a confident yet drunk suitor. I thought about it for a second, then slung my legs out from under the sheets.

"No, not again. Nope," I said to myself as I tucked the device into the drawer.

The best thing I could do was find something to occupy my time. One good thing about Jace coming by the night before was that I now had free use of the town. I could go explore and shop to my heart's content. That sounded like exactly the thing to get my mind off the raging fire of my hormones.

After getting dressed, I drove to town, enjoying that I didn't have to hide my face. Though, I did think it would be weird knowing everyone would know who and what I was. Would I be like a celebrity, a leper, or a nuisance? Hopefully none of the above.

Crestwood was basically the same as I remembered it. I'd only glimpsed snatches of it going to and from Jace's house. Finally able to park in the downtown area, I found it all looked so similar, and that weird sense of déjà vu came over me again. Me, as a child, walking these streets with Nana to go to the store or get some pizza. It all looked exactly the same.

That shouldn't have surprised me. Shifters lived a really long time. That meant these homes and businesses were probably still in the hands of the people who'd opened them decades ago. If they never changed hands, there would be no influx of new ideas and renovations. It was a town caught in a time bubble, but not in a dreary, dead way. It was still bright and vibrant.

The sun was up, but it was still early, which meant there weren't really that many people outside. On a whim, I headed for the first place that caught my eye—a small bakery on the corner. The woman at the counter saw me, and her eyes widened in recognition and surprise. My magical scent—whatever that was—must have been easily noticeable now. Thankfully, she didn't mention it, and after a moment's hesitation, she smiled and offered her services. I ordered a chocolate croissant and a cappuccino, which I took outside to one of the three little tables and chairs set up on the sidewalk.

The warm morning air had yet to turn humid, as could be expected from a Missouri summer. The day was pleasant, and a faint breeze kept things comfortable. While eating, I tried to relax. Movement across the street caught my eye—a woman sweeping the sidewalk in front of a small nail salon. She finished sweeping, spun her sign from closed to open, and headed back inside.

When was the last time I'd had a manicure or pedicure? Months? I'd been so busy with Nana and work, I hadn't pampered myself in ages. Screw it. Why not?

After finishing my coffee and croissant, I tossed the wax paper and cup in the trash and walked across the street to the nail salon.

"Good morning," a bright and chipper voice called from the back of the shop.

"Hi," I said. "I was looking to get my nails done."

"Absolutely. You're the first customer of the day. Come on in."

She looked younger than me, maybe in her mid to late-twenties. pretty and slim, with long pale blonde hair held back in a French braid.

"Thanks," I said. "My name's Kirsten Holly. I'm staying in my grandmother's cabin for the summer."

"Oh, I know you," she said, but her smile was sweet. "The witch, right? Big hubbub about you yesterday."

My shoulders tensed, and I blushed.

She must have noticed my reaction because she rushed to add, "Sorry, that sounded bad. We just don't get a lot of excitement around here is what I meant." She smiled again. "I'm Lory Shelton. I own this place. Come over here and relax. I'll take care of you."

She led me to a large padded chair. When I sat, I groaned in pleasant surprise. It was heated and had built-in massage rollers. Had I ever felt something so amazing?

"Like it?" she asked, nodding to the chair. "I had them installed about eight months ago."

"They're fantastic."

Lory rolled over a small cart packed with dozens of colors and styles of nail polish for me to choose from. I decided to go for something I'd never done before, selecting a dark purple matte nail polish for my hands and feet. Lory got my feet into a warm tub to soak while she began working on my fingers.

"I didn't mean to make you feel weird earlier," Lory said as she worked. "I just never thought I'd get to meet a real witch. I'm a bit starstruck, to tell you the truth."

I laughed. "Starstruck? By me? My students would think that was hilarious."

"It's just that witches are such a huge part of shifter history. We all sort of thought they'd died out. It's like being in the forest and seeing a unicorn run past, you know?"

Me? A unicorn? Interesting.

"Witches and shifters used to live together, right?" I asked.

Lory nodded. "It's true. The alpha had a really good reason to keep the witches around. They helped increase our lifespan even more."

"Wait, really? I thought you guys already lived a long time."

"We do," she admitted. "But when witches allied with shifters, there was sort of a bond with the alpha of whatever pack they were with. It wasn't sexual or anything, not that I know of. More like a combination of magic, I guess. The alpha's life was extended by at least several decades. Some legends say it could have been as long as an extra century."

That was new information. I hadn't seen that in any of the books Tinsley had given me, though there was a ton of info I hadn't gotten to yet. Lory's comment on alpha ages brought up another question I hadn't really thought about until right then.

"How, uh… I don't want to make you uncomfortable," I stammered, already embarrassed for asking, "but how old are you?"

"Me?" she asked, putting a hand to her chest in emphasis. "I'll be seventy-three this Christmas. I was a holiday baby."

I gaped at her. At worst, she could have passed as thirty-five, but in actuality, she looked closer to twenty-eight.

She laughed at the look on my face. "Shifters grow up normally, then at some point, we sort of stop aging. Physically aging, that is. It's different for everyone. For some, it's their twenties; others, it's their thirties. Then after a while, the aging process starts again. We aren't immortal."

"That's still… wow. I mean, you look great. But wait…" I frowned, getting a weird feeling in my stomach as I thought of something. "How old is Jace? The alpha. He doesn't look a day over forty." If he'd been around when my great-grandmother was around, how old was he?

"Jace?" Lory said. "He's about a hundred-twenty-five."

I choked on my spit.

Once my pamper session was done, I went to the grocery store to grab a few things. My mind was filled with wonder and confusion as I strolled through the store. I still had a hard time believing Jace was a hundred-and-twenty-five years old. It seemed impossible. In my daze, I never noticed the man walking up to me as I stared at a thousand cans of vegetables.

"Hello again."

Yelping in surprise, I spun around to find Waylan standing beside me.

"Oh, shit, sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to startle you."

Sighing, I smiled, putting a hand out my chest. "No, it's fine. I was lost in my thoughts. Didn't hear you coming. How are you?"

"I'm good. Are you enjoying being able to shop for yourself?" he asked, a knowing smile on his lips.

"You have no idea. I was starting to get cabin fever—literally. I'm happy to be allowed in town."

"I can imagine, and it's no big deal. The meeting went basically how you'd think it would." He shrugged. "A few folks were worried, but it was a small group. Everyone else is happy and a little excited to have a witch around."

"So not everyone is okay with me being here?" That was worrying.

Waylan waved it off. "It's fine. As soon as anyone voiced a concern, Jace jumped on it. He defended you big-time."

I tried to remember the last time someone had fought for me. Nana, obviously. Dad? Never. Boyfriends? Not that I could remember. It was a new feeling, knowing that someone—especially a man—had put himself on the line for me.

"I really want to thank Jace," I said. "Quick question. Do you happen to know his favorite thing to eat? I thought I'd make him dinner."

Waylan smiled. "Follow me. I've got a few ideas."

An hour later, I pulled up in front of the cabin, a load of groceries in my backseat. Filling my arms with bags, I headed for the house but stopped short, a box on the porch catching my eye. It looked like a mail package—a generic cardboard box with a post office sticker on the top. Weird. My name was on the sticker, so it was definitely mine. The only people who would send me something and knew where I was were Harley and Dad. My father didn't even send Christmas gifts, though he did at least manage birthday cards every other year, so that was something. If Harley had sent something, she would have messaged or called me to let me know it was on the way.

"Weird," I said, stepping over it.

I put all the food away and then stepped outside to grab the package. I tucked it under my arm and texted Jace about dinner.

Kirsten: Hey! I wanted to thank you for that meeting. Would you be free for dinner tonight?

Before I'd even put the box on the counter, my phone pinged.

Jace: I'd love to. What time?

Kirsten: Six?

Jace: I'll be there. Can't wait.

I was smiling like a goof by the time our little exchange ended. Part of me thought this was what it was like when a teenager invited a boy over when their parents were out of town—excited, naughty, and worried all at the same time. It had been a long time since I'd been giddy over a man. Had I ever felt this way? Maybe not. I'd always had butterflies in a new relationship, but those had faded fast.

While thinking about my feelings and past, I cut through the tape on the box with some scissors and opened it. I gasped. Nestled inside tissue paper was a gorgeous dress. I pulled it out and shook it out. The navy blue cocktail dress was tight, slinky, and low-cut. It was beautiful, but not something I'd normally buy for myself. I could imagine how sexy it would look on me, but who the hell had sent this? Surely not Jace. He didn't seem like the type to do something like this.

Setting the dress aside, I dug through the tissue paper until I found a small card.

I hope you like it. You should wear this on our date. You'd look so hot in this. –Eren

Disgust roiled in my belly. "Ugh."

The dress no longer looked beautiful. I folded it, shoved it back in the box, and put it on a table by the door, ignoring it while I went to work preparing dinner. A couple hours later, I was showered and putting the final touches on dinner. I'd managed to put Eren out of my mind, and when Jace knocked on the door, those same weird butterflies started up again. It both excited and annoyed me.

When I opened the door, I had to force myself not to gasp at the sight of him. Freshly showered, a clean button-up tight on his biceps, and jeans that showed off all his assets.

"Huh… uh… hi. Come on in," I stuttered, stepping back to let him in.

"Evening," he said, holding out a bottle. "I brought a little gift. Red wine? I wasn't sure what you liked."

"That's actually perfect for what we're eating." I spotted the box on the table and knew I needed to tell him about it. I decided the earlier, the better. "I need you to do something for me."

A hint of a smile played at his lips. "Do something. For you?" His sly joke, a play on words, was not lost on me.

For me,I thought. Not to me. Not yet, anyway, not if I can help it.

"It's this," I said, pointing to the box.

"What is it?" Jace asked, setting the wine bottle on the counter and turning to examine the box.

"It's a dress from Eren. He wants me to wear it on our date." I shuddered in disgust.

Jace went very still, almost like a statue. His eyes grew dark and stormy. Some strange aura surrounded us, but I couldn't really explain it. I'd heard that alphas could subdue their betas with some sort of mental force, but I'd never thought a human could feel it. Or a witch, for that matter. It sent a spike of fear into me, and I stepped back, trying to put distance between us.

Jace tore his eyes from the box and looked at me, his face softening. "I would never hurt you. I'm just angry at Eren. He does this." He waved a hand at the box. "Yesterday, we spoke on the phone, and that ass has…" He thought for a moment, then went on, "Thoughts on how a witch should be used. I'll leave it at that."

My own magic buzzed through me, echoing my fears about being used.

"Are you using me, Jace?" The words were out before I could stop them.

His face grew more somber. "No. Absolutely not. I would never do something like that." He stepped close again, and I could feel the heat radiating from him. "Your magic is powerful. Useful? Yes, of course, but it's yours to do with as you please. Not anyone else's. I would never force you to use your magic for my benefit. Even if you said you didn't want to help me with this curse, I would respect that."

The sincerity in his voice comforted me. It also shamed me. In the short time I'd known Jace, despite him seeming like a dick at first, he'd shown himself to be honorable.

"Thank you," I said.

Jace nodded, then reached down and grabbed the box off the table. "I'll put this in my car and make sure this package is returned to Eren, along with a little message from me. I'll be right back."

Once he was out the door, I took a deep breath to steady myself and went back to the kitchen to toss the pasta into the simmering water. Jace returned a few seconds later.

"I'm sorry dinner started out like this," I said.

"No need to apologize. It's fine. Really. I'm just glad you trust me enough to handle it for you."

"I figured it would mean more if it came from you," I said. "I doubt Eren would be very intimidated by me, witch or not."

"If I can tell you the truth, I'm kinda surprised you didn't take care of it yourself. You appear really guarded. The type to take care of things herself."

I groaned and stirred the pasta. "Great. I thought I'd gotten a little better. I've always been that way. It probably stems from my father. A junkie alcoholic isn't the greatest influence. It made it difficult for me to open up to anyone, though I have one really close friend, her name's Harley. She and Nana were the only people I've ever really been close to, and they're the only ones I can open up to. Let the walls down, you know?"

"I do. I get it. I'm sort of the same. This curse has made it hard to talk to anyone. The only people who know are Waylan and Shayna. It's tough keeping a secret so close to the vest."

Wow. He did get it. He understood. And yes, it was the same sort of thing. The only difference was the secret I kept hidden was my true self and my feelings, not some magical curse that had ruined my life.

"I'm sorry about accusing you earlier, too," I added. "I'm just so used to men using me for things." I dumped the cooked pasta into a colander in the sink.

"You don't have to worry about that with me. I promise." He nodded at the sink and the steaming noodles. "What are we having for dinner, anyway?" Jace asked.

Turning, I opened the oven and pulled out the fried chicken cutlets I'd put in there to keep warm. "Chicken parmesan on angel hair pasta."

When I turned around, the look on Jace's face was a cross between a shocked gape and a smile. "That's my favorite. How the hell did you know?"

I shrugged. "A little wolfie at the store told me."

"Waylan," Jace said, nodding knowingly. "Well, let's eat. I'm starving."

He set the table and poured wine while I plated the food. Once he dug in, the conversation dwindled until the only sound was his moans of pleasure as he devoured two portions.

Once he'd satisfied himself, he sat back, glass in hand, and watched me eat for several moments before speaking. "I wonder what it takes," he said, almost thinking out loud.

"For?" I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

He eyed me again. "To get you to break down those walls. To let someone new in."

The way he said it should have been innocent, but I couldn't help but take it another way. To let someone new in me. Desire washed over me, and a sheen of sweat formed on my lower back. It had been so long since I'd been with a man, and my body was reacting to him. To his words, the way he looked, the way my magic drew me to him.

Jace's eyes narrowed. "What's that? I can smell it. Hear it. Your magic is humming. Purring like a cat."

My hands shook as I smoothed the napkin on my lap. There was no hiding it. It had to be obvious to him. Jace was a shifter. He could probably hear my heartbeat, my breathing. Oh, God. Could he smell that I was turned on? It was strange to be so exposed. All the things humans were able to hide from other humans were impossible to hide from shifters.

But he was right. My magic wanted him. Pulled me toward him. Made me desire him in a way I'd never desired a man before. I could already picture myself, flat on my back on the dinner table, Jace grunting with effort as he fucked me.

That mental picture was both delightful and terrifying. It would require me to finally lower the walls I'd so carefully built. Could I? Was it possible? Also, how could I do that until I had some idea as to what was going on in Jace's head?

Unable to look him in the eyes, I cast a sideways glance at him. I tried to speak and stumbled over my words. Sighing in frustration, I gathered myself. No man had ever made me tongue-tied or nervous like this man did.

Swallowing, I asked, "Do you react to me the same way my magic reacts to you?"