Chapter 2

I SIT ON SUZETTE’S cozy couch, my mind reeling from everything I’ve seen since arriving in Evershift Haven. The quaint town square with its cobblestone streets, the floating decorations, and the unusual residents—it all seems like something out of a fairytale. I’m still not entirely convinced I haven’t fallen asleep and dreamed up this whole bizarre scenario.

The sound of a key turning in the lock jolts me from my thoughts.

Suzette, who’d been puttering around in the kitchen, pokes out her head. “That’ll be Throk,” she says with a smile. “He’s just getting home from work.”

The door swings open, and I freeze. A massive figure ducks to enter the apartment, and my jaw drops. He’s enormous—at least six-five, with broad shoulders and muscles that strain against his T-shirt, but it’s not just his size that leaves me speechless. His skin is a deep forest green, with intricate darker green markings swirling across his exposed arms. Small tusks protrude slightly from his lower lip as he smiles. He doesn’t look at all Scandinavian.

“Hey, Suz,” he calls out, his voice a deep rumble that seems to vibrate through the room. “How was your day?”

She emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Pretty good. We’ve got company—my sister Candice is here.”

Throk’s amber-eyed gaze locks onto me, and his smile widens. “Ah, Candice. Suzette’s told me so much about you. I thought you were coming tomorrow though.”

Suzette shakes her head. “I even put it on your calendar.” She smacks him lightly on the butt with that admonishment, making his cheeks turn a darker green.

I try to respond, but my voice seems to have abandoned me. All I can do is stare, looking between his green skin, his tusks, and his pointed ears. This has to be an incredibly elaborate costume, right? But as he moves further into the room, the way his skin shifts and the natural way his tusks move as he speaks... It all looks far too real.

“I’m Throk,” he says, extending a massive hand toward me. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

I reach out automatically, finding my hand engulfed by his. His skin is warm and slightly textured but nothing like the latex of a costume. “H-hi,” I manage to stammer out. “Nice to meet you too.”

He settles into an armchair across from me, the furniture creaking slightly under his weight. “What do you think of Evershift Haven so far? Quite a change from the human world, huh?”

My mind races. Human world? Does that mean... “Are you... I mean, is this...” I struggle to find the right words.

Suzette steps in, perching on the arm of Throk’s chair. “Candice, remember how I mentioned that Evershift Haven is a town for magical beings? Throk is an orc.”

“An orc,” I repeat faintly. “Like from fantasy stories?”

He chuckles. “Those stories got some things right and a lot wrong. We’re not the mindless brutes humans often portray us as.”

I lean forward, curiosity beginning to override my shock. “So you’re really... I mean, this isn’t a costume or anything?”

“Nope, one hundred percent genuine orc,” he says, flexing an arm playfully. The muscles ripple under his green skin, the tribal-like markings shifting with the movement.

“Wow. I... I don’t even know what to say. This is incredible.”

Suzette grins. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I was pretty overwhelmed when I first discovered all this too. I thought it was a touristy town going way overboard for Halloween. Now, the town has transformed itself for Thanksgiving.”

“Town...transformed itself?” I turn to my sister. “And you...you’re okay with all this? Dating an orc?”

“Hey, now,” he interjects, his tone light but with a hint of steel underneath, “I may be an orc, but I’m still a person. Species doesn’t define who we are any more than race does for humans.”

My cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean... This is just all so new to me.”

His expression softens. “No offense taken. I understand it’s a shock. Most humans don’t react nearly as well as you are.”

“How did you two meet?” I ask, genuinely curious now that the initial shock is wearing off.

Suzette laughs. “Would you believe his garage was almost the first place I stumbled into when I accidentally crossed into Evershift Haven? My car had broken down—magical interference, apparently—and Throk fixed Vivi for me.”

Throk grins, his tusks glinting in the light. “She was so confused.” The way he looks at my sister makes my heart melt a little. Despite his intimidating appearance, there’s such gentleness in his eyes. He’s like a big green teddy bear...er, orc.

“So,” I say, resting into the couch. “Tell me more about orcs. Are you all mechanics? Do you have special magical powers?”

Throk laughs. “Not all orcs are mechanics, no. Many of us do have an affinity for working with our hands. As for magic...most beings in Evershift have some magical ability, but it varies widely.”

“What can you do?” I ask eagerly.

He shrugs. “Nothing flashy. Sorry. I have an innate sense of how things, particularly machines—magical or mundane—fit together. It’s rather common among orcs. Comes in handy in the garage.”

“Huh. I can see why you’re a mechanic.” Part of me marvels that I’m having even a semblance of a normal conversation.

Suzette stands up. “Now that the introductions are out of the way, who’s hungry?”

Throk’s stomach rumbles. “Oh, I forgot Candice was coming today. Sorry.” He nods to me. “Ronan is dropping by some firewood, and I invited him to stay for dinner.”

My sister smiles. “The more the merrier.” She looks at me. “Why don’t you get settled in the loft? It looks like part of the gills in the rafter, but there’s an actual room up there.”

I nod, still trying to process everything I’ve seen and heard in the last few hours. “Sure, I’ll get settled in.” I stand up, wobbling a little. “Loft, you said?”

She points to a ladder tucked against the far wall. “Yep, just climb up there. The room’s bigger than it looks from down here.” She looks around. “I’ll ask Throk to bring in your luggage. I guess we forgot about it.”

I nod, thinking my bags were the last thing on my mind earlier. I approach the ladder, eyeing it skeptically. It seems to blend seamlessly with the wooden beams of the ceiling, almost as if it’s grown out of the wall itself. I place my hand on the first rung, surprised by its warmth. The wood pulses faintly beneath my palm, almost like a heartbeat.

“Um, Suzette?” I call over my shoulder. “Is this ladder...alive?”

My sister laughs. “Sort of. It’s enchanted wood. It won’t let you fall.”

I inhale and start climbing. As I ascend, the ladder seems to adjust to my movements, the rungs shifting slightly to provide the perfect footholds. When I reach the top, I gasp.

The loft is indeed much larger than it appeared from below. It’s a cozy space with slanted ceilings and a large round window that looks out over what seems to be an endless forest. The walls are lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes, their titles written in scripts I don’t recognize. A plush bed sits in one corner, covered in a patchwork quilt that shimmers faintly in the soft light filtering through the window.

“This is amazing,” I whisper, running my hand along the spines of the books. One quivers at my touch, and I snatch back my hand.

“Everything okay up there?” she calls.

“Yeah, just adjusting,” I say, my voice trembling.

I sink onto the bed, mind whirling. This has to be some kind of elaborate prank or immersive experience, right? Maybe Suzette signed me up for one of those mystery weekends, where you play along with actors in a fictional scenario, but the warmth of the ladder, the subtle movements of the books, the impossible view from the window... it all feels real.

A soft chime echoes through the loft, and I jump. A shimmering image appears in the air before me—a clock face showing it’s nearly six p.m.

“Dinner will be ready soon.” Suzette’s voice floats up from below. “Come on down when you’re ready.”

I stand up though my legs are still unsteady. “This isn’t real,” I mutter to myself. “It can’t be real.” But as I descend the ladder, which once again adjusts to my movements, I find it harder and harder to cling to that belief. The cottage’s warmth seeps into my bones, a comforting presence that feels undeniably magical.

Back in the main room, I find Suzette and Throk setting the table. Throk’s massive green hands dwarf the delicate plates he’s arranging, yet he handles them with surprising gentleness.

“Feeling more settled?” she asks, glancing up at me.

I shrug, not trusting myself to speak. How can I explain that every moment in this place makes me question my sanity more?

A knock at the door makes me jump. Throk moves to answer it, ducking slightly to fit through the doorway. I stand frozen in place as Throk opens the door, revealing a figure that makes my breath catch in my throat.

The man—if you can call him that—towers in the doorway, his powerful frame barely contained by the entrance. His face is more wolf than human, with a strong muzzle lined with sharp teeth that gleam as he grins. Thick, dark fur covers every visible inch of his body, and his eyes—a piercing, intelligent blue—look at me with an intensity that makes me shiver—with very little fear involved.

“Ronan, come on in, buddy.” Throk steps back so he can enter.

The newcomer—Ronan—ducks slightly to enter, his clawed hands gripping a stack of firewood. “Thanks, Throk. Hope I’m not interrupting.”

His voice is deep and gravelly, with an animalistic undertone that seems to vibrate through the air. I can’t stop staring, gaze darting between his wolfish features, the dense fur covering his arms, and the way his muscles ripple with each movement in that tight flannel shirt.

Throk claps a massive green hand on Ronan’s shoulder. “Not at all. We were just about to have dinner, so you aren’t late. Ronan, this is Candice, Suzette’s sister.”

He looks at me again, and I swallow hard.

“Nice to meet you, Candice,” he says, setting down the firewood that reveals a thick tail wagging enthusiastically. When he stands up and turns, he extends a clawed hand.

I reach out automatically, and his hand swallows mine. His fur is surprisingly soft, and I feel the strength in his grip. “H-hi,” I manage to stammer out. “You have a very...unique look.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to kick myself. Way to go, Candice. Real smooth.

To my surprise, he doesn’t seem offended. Instead, his muzzle curls into an amused smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “Not everyone appreciates the rugged charm of a lycan.”

“A lycan?” I repeat, my curiosity overriding my embarrassment. “You mean like...a werewolf?”

Ronan chuckles, the sound a low rumble that seems to reverberate through my chest. “Something like that, yeah. Though we prefer ‘lycan’—less negative connotations. Plus, werewolves have the ability to shift between human and full wolf form. Lycans are more like the classic wolfman. What you see is what you get,” he adds with a little spin.

I can’t stop staring at his broad back in the blue flannel, and I suspect he catches me when he completes his turn, and our gazes meet again. Heat suffuses my cheeks. I nod, trying to process this new information. First orcs, now werewolves—or lycans, rather. What’s next, vampires?

Suzette emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel once again. “Dinner’s almost ready. Ronan, you’re staying, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says, flashing a toothy grin. “Especially not with new company.”

He glances at me again, and the heat returns to my cheeks. There’s something undeniably magnetic about him, a raw, primal energy that both intimidates and intrigues me.

“So, Candice,” says Ronan as we all move toward the dining area. “What brings you to Evershift Haven? Aside from visiting your sister, of course.”

I laugh nervously. “Oh, you know, just thought I’d drop by a magical town full of creatures I thought only existed in stories. Totally normal weekend plans.”

Ronan’s laugh is rich and warm. “Ah, sarcasm. I like it. You’ll fit right in here.”

We settle around the table, and I’m seated directly across from Ronan. Suzette brings out a steaming pot of what smells like vegetable soup.

While we begin to eat, I watch Ronan. His table manners are impeccable, despite his clawed hands and elongated muzzle. He catches me staring and winks, causing me to quickly look down at my bowl. Being a vegetarian, I passed on the meaty bones the others have in their soups. I’m not entirely confident those are cow bones, so I probably wouldn’t indulge even if I did eat meat.

“So, Ronan,” I say, desperate to break the awkward silence. “What do you do here in Evershift Haven? Besides delivering firewood, I mean.”

He sets down his spoon, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a lumberjack, actually. My family’s been in the business for generations. We supply most of the wood for the town—everything from construction materials to firewood.”

I nod, fascinated despite myself. “That must be interesting work. Do you use...magic? Or just good old-fashioned muscle power?”

Ronan flexes an arm playfully, his bicep bulging beneath the flannel. “A bit of both, actually. Lycan strength comes in handy, but we’ve got some enchanted tools that make the job easier. Plus, it helps to be able to communicate with the forest spirits.”

“Forest spirits?” I echo, my eyes widening. “You mean, there are actual spirits in the woods?”

Throk chuckles. “Oh, yeah, the Whispering Woods are full of ‘em. Dryads, mostly. They’re pretty particular about which trees can be harvested. Some of the trees themselves are magical too.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “This is all so incredible. I feel like I’ve stepped into a fairytale.”

He nods. “Trust me, the stories barely scratch the surface of what Evershift Haven is really like. There’s magic in every corner of this town.”

“Interesting.” A little terrifying too.

We continue eating and chatting, and somehow, I’m relaxing more and more. The initial shock of meeting Ronan is wearing off, replaced by a genuine curiosity about him and his life in Evershift Haven. His dry wit and easy charm make conversation flow naturally, and I catch myself laughing at his jokes more often than not.

By the time dessert rolls around—a delicious apple pie Suzette swears was baked by actual fairies—I’m feeling almost comfortable in this surreal setting. Ronan shares tales of his adventures in the Whispering Woods, describing encounters with mischievous sprites and ancient tree spirits.

“There was this one time,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially, “When a young dryad decided she wanted to see the town. She literally uprooted herself and started walking down Main Street, trailing dirt and leaves everywhere. Took us hours to convince her to go back to the forest.”

I laugh, picturing the scene. “How did you manage it?”

Ronan’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Let’s just say, it involved a lot of sweet-talking, a barrel of enchanted sap, and a very reluctant squirrel.”

As the evening winds down, I’m disappointed it’s coming to an end. Ronan stands, stretching in a way that highlights his powerful physique. “I should get going. Early start tomorrow and all that.”

“Right,” I say, trying not to sound too eager.

As he says his goodbyes and heads out, I catch myself watching him leave. There’s something undeniably captivating about him, a wild energy that both excites and unnerves me.

Suzette nudges me playfully once the door closes behind him. “So, what do you think of Ronan?”

I try to keep my voice neutral. “He seems...nice. Interesting.”

My sister laughs. “Uh-huh. ‘Interesting.’ That’s one way to put it.”

I roll my eyes but smile. Tomorrow’s tour of Evershift Haven suddenly seems a lot more exciting than I had anticipated, and I hope I’ll see him again as Suzette shows me around. As I help her clean up from dinner, my mind keeps drifting back to Ronan’s piercing blue eyes and that hint of wildness in his smile.

What have I gotten myself into?