Chapter Three

I thought I was the only one bothered by the carrion on top of my Prius until we pulled up to my house, and the silver wolf growled when I tried to get out of the car.

I wasn't well-versed in wolf body language, but I got the gist.

Kaleb wanted to survey the perimeter, and I was happy to let him if it meant a moment alone.

I leaned over and popped the door. The sun had set, and the dim porch light illuminated the front of my house but little else. The wolf hopped out of the car and disappeared.

Once Kaleb melted into the shadows with his nose to the ground, I pressed my forehead against my steering wheel.

I had no idea what Joel was thinking if he was even responsible for the dead animals propped on my car like hood ornaments.

He'd parked at the end of my driveway every night the past week—for whatever reason a man does anything. I hadn't blocked his number, on the advice of my lawyer, so I could collect every hateful text and voice message. Even the most innocuous statements sounded threatening when they came from a man who stood in the darkness and watched my house. Things like ‘ the grass is too long .' Or, don't forget to ‘ switch out the storm screens now that winter's coming .'

I wasn't sure how long I sat, engine idling and my head down, but the silver wolf hopped up to my driver's side window and barked. No doubt scratching the paint, as he informed me the coast was clear.

He waited patiently as I got out of the car and unlocked the front door—playing the role of an obedient dog, though I knew he was the furthest thing from it.

I wasn't scared of werewolves, not really. There were plenty more things out there to be frightened of, and a host of them lived in the trees surrounding Locket.

I locked the door behind me before I pulled off my jacket. I pressed my hand against the doorframe, activating my grandmother's wards. She had poured her blood, sweat, and tears into the house's very foundation.

I had no warning as the silver wolf in front of me began to stretch, his limbs elongating and twisting until he stood on two legs. For a moment, I got a glimpse of his naked body, lithe and corded with muscle. Marked with strange tattoos that mirrored themselves on his chest. His clothes formed on his body last, no doubt some kind of glamour.

Wolfkin were wild Fae, but they weren't without magic just because they could shift into another form.

Kaleb's face was no longer expressionless; his eyes burned with anger. I stepped back until my butt pressed against my front door.

"Your ex-husband is escalating," Kaleb said with a growl. "Has he made any other threats?"

I reached for my pocket and pulled out my phone. "Not really," I muttered as I opened the text chain. "He's acting like everything is fine. It's not fine."

Kaleb's eyes narrowed. "You need to be honest with me."

"I'm Sídhe. I can't lie." I countered.

He ignored my statement. "Why did you and your husband decide to separate?"

"It wasn't my fault." My shoulders rose as a familiar defensiveness set in.

"I didn't say it was." Kaleb shrugged, but his orange eyes remained sharp. "But you were together for several years. What prompted the seperation?"

"He took out a life insurance policy. On me." I said through gritted teeth.

"You think he intended to kill you?"

"He certainly tried." I glanced away.

"Does your ex-husband have any magic?"

"No." I bit out.

"I know who you are." He told me.

It took a moment to parse through every secret and every way I could interpret his words before realization hit me.

"I should have known you'd figure it out." My smile was weak. "It doesn't matter who or what I am."

Kaleb stepped back, pushing his fingers through his silver hair. He glanced back at me, studying my face and then shaking his head.

I took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm a Weaver. That's all." I assured him.

" A Weaver? That's all ?" He mimicked.

I interrupted him. "Does your Alpha know who I am?"

Kaleb scoffed, shaking his head.

"I take that as a ‘no'," I retorted. "If you don't want to protect me from Officer McGowen, just call Dean Hart and ask him to send over another wolf."

Kaleb's nostrils flared, and he murmured something.

"What was that?" I frowned.

"I can't." He lifted his voice. "The rest of the pack are... Indisposed. Samhain approaches. I am the only one they could spare."

"Look," I sighed. "I'm tired. I just want to sit on the couch and watch reality TV. Preferably with some cherry-flavored ice cream if I have any left. Can we just... Not?"

"Not?" Kaleb echoed.

"Exactly." I snapped my fingers, doing the finger guns. "Do you like ice cream?"

Kaleb blinked slowly. "Yes?"

"Awesome." I smiled weakly. "I'll choose something on Netflix." I snatched the remote from the side, waving it in front of my face.

"You're a Weaver." Kaleb gaped. "Even if you're only half, you should be able to protect yourself."

I barked a laugh. "Oh yeah, next time someone is beating me, I'll ask if I can have a lock of their hair to braid. Then, I'll sit back as they weaken over several days. Weaving is a subtle magic. If you knew my grandmother, you'd know that." I turned on the TV and began flicking through the various channels as I searched for something benign to watch.

"You're not scared of your ex-husband." Kaleb stalked in front of me, blocking my view of the TV.

"I'm not?" I spluttered. "Great news. Maybe you should go home then?"

Kaleb eyed me like a snake, ready to strike. "This will go much easier if you're honest with me."

I ignored him and settled on watching a baking competition even though I didn't know the first thing about making cakes.

Kaleb soon shifted back to his four-legged form, and I was glad for it—at least he couldn't speak.

The witching hour approached, and I woke up when something crossed the ward.

Unfortunately, beyond a vague sense of unease, I couldn't tell what kind of creature had walked onto the property—man, wolf, or worse.

I swung my legs to the side, peeling myself from the bed, though sleep made everything heavier. Darkness clung to every corner of the room, though a thin slice of moonlight shone through the gap in the drapes.

I looked out onto my lawn, past the shed and the treeline leading to the forest and steep inclines. I waited, searching for signs of an intruder, but stillness and shadows greeted me.

My grandmother had told me stories about the Durrach. About the creatures in the dark and the Aos Sí—or Faerie— an entire world separated from ours by a thin membrane of reality. She had told me about the Seelie and Unseelie courts and the Kelpies, Selkies, and Satyrs.

My grandmother had carried a silver glow about her. The dust motes of magic in the air swarmed her as she moved, forming a halo of sparkles.

Wolves looked golden, almost a halo effect in my vision, regardless of their form.

I didn't recognize the magic in my garden—several different colors smushed together to make a strange brown, red, and yellow. Sallow and sickly.

It crossed the edge of my ward again before darting away.

I didn't take a breath until it was gone.

My bedroom door creaked open, and Kaleb's wolfy claws tapped against the hardwood floor. He glanced at the window and then back to me.

"I sensed it, too," I whispered.

The wolf hopped onto the bottom of my bed and curled up, closing his eyes and feigning sleep.

Though my heartbeat roared in my chest, and I imagined a number of horrors trawling my lawn, I laid back down—eventually lulled to sleep by the steady breathing of a silver wolf.

When I looked out the landing window the following day, I saw Joel's police cruiser parked at the end of my driveway. His butt was against the passenger side door, and his arms crossed over his chest.

Despite the dim morning light, he wore sunglasses. No doubt to partially hide his face and any emotions that might live there.

"You have a large collection of toy hamsters," Kaleb said as he stepped out of the bedroom. "They sing songs."

"I like them." I narrowed my eyes.

"They are displayed rather prominently in your bedroom." He replied, glancing over his shoulder. "They have little costumes and name tags."

"I collect them," I told him. "They're called ‘ Cheerful Critters' ."

"You have a lot of toys." Kaleb put his hands in his pockets.

"Your point?" I lifted a brow.

Kaleb bit back a smile. "I don't have a point. Is your ex-husband outside?" He craned his neck and walked toward the window as if he didn't have a care in the world.

I spun on my heel, grabbing the wolf by the biceps and pushing us both to the ground before he could walk in front of the window. Pain radiated from my knees as we hit the floor; Kaleb flicked his long silver locks away from his face, eying me the same way I imagined he would study a particularly colorful insect.

Kaleb quirked a brow expectantly.

I sat back, closed my eyes, and took a breath. "I don't want Joel to see you."

Kaleb nodded staunchly. "Can I get up now?"

"Um," I glanced back to the window. "Maybe crawl across the landing? So he doesn't see you?"

Kaleb shrugged before scooting forward, ducking under the window ledge until he reached the top of the stairs. "How long is your ex-husband going to stay out there?"

I checked the clock on the wall. "Until his shift starts at eight," I said. "Do you want breakfast?"

"Yes." He nodded, the movement eager despite his stoic demeanor. "Always yes."

I avoided the windows at the front of the house as I led Kaleb to the kitchen and quickly got down to preparing breakfast.

Since Joel had left, I'd survived on hot pockets and sugar-free energy drinks. I was used to cooking for someone else, putting thought into my meals, and taking pride in what I put on a plate. It felt pointless to create some elaborate dish if I was the only one eating it.

I couldn't bake to save my life, but I could follow a recipe.

I tried to hide my joy at having someone to cook for as I grabbed the pancake ingredients and set to work.

The kitchen was my space. From the cast irons on the wall, lined up on reinforced hooks, to the patchwork bunting I'd made by hand. I kept a small round table in the corner, with a rickety chair and a strawberry-printed cushion. I'd sit at the table and sew, knit, or sketch. Confined to a single room in the house that was entirely mine and not tainted by a man's presence and design choices.

I'd only had a month and hadn't had enough time to purge Joel's presence from my childhood home entirely. He'd taken all the items he wanted, leaving my home a mishmash of missing furniture. I did not mourn the loss of the PS5, which I wasn't sure I even knew how to switch on.

I got to work warming the cast iron on the stove when Mitchell appeared at the back door, tapping his knuckles against the glass. I cursed under my breath and glanced toward the front of the house, though I couldn't see the driveway from the kitchen.

"Did Joel see you?" I turned to Mitchell, my eyes wide as I waved my spatula.

"I came through the woods. There's a dead fox on your porch. I buried it for you." Mitchell gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "Oh! Pancakes." He grinned, pulling out a barstool and settling beside Kaleb at the kitchen island. "Did Officer Douchbag try to break in?"

My hands shook. "A dead fox?"

Kaleb slanted a look my way, and I wondered if he planned to tell Mitchell all about my tumultuous heritage. Instead, Kaleb knitted his fingers together. "Something crossed the backyard last night. Bad scent. I didn't recognize it." Kaleb lifted his eyes to the ceiling, focusing on the light-fitting as he spoke. "It woke Mallory but didn't breach the wards. Mallory has a large collection of toy hamsters."

"I hope that isn't a euphemism for something." Mitchell threw his head back and laughed, revealing pearly white teeth.

"They're collectors' items." I snapped.

"They sing songs when you press their feet." Kaleb supplied helpfully.

Mitchell raised a brow, waiting for an explanation. I turned back to the stove.

"Your husband is human, right?" Mitchell squinted.

I laughed as I poured pancake batter into the pan. "Oh yeah. He's human. He's part of the HAOB. Humans against other beings ."

"And you married that guy?" Mitchell's brow lifted to his hairline. "Does he know you're—"

I glanced at Kaleb, waiting for him to speak. To reveal the truth. He didn't.

"—half Fae?" Mitchell wondered.

"Humans don't pick up on that kind of thing." I flipped a pancake. "I went through a rebellious phase. It just so happened that my rebellion was finding the most normal guy in Locket."

"What drives such a normal guy to leave dead animals on their ex-wife's car? That's what I want to know." Mitchell shook his head.

"Perhaps you have Charmed him?" Kaleb suggested, gesturing to me. "Does he wear anything you have sewn or woven?"

"Joel prefers Levis and Henley's. He wouldn't even let me fix his jeans." I scoffed as I refilled the pan with batter disks once the first batch was done. "I'm old enough that I don't Weave by accident; besides, no one wants to be in a relationship with someone they've had to enchant."

Both men agreed.

I passed over the plates, and the wolves quickly dug in. I wasn't sure any pancakes would be left by the time I'd gotten the maple and caramel syrup from the cupboard.

"What's the plan?" I wondered. "Is someone coming to work with me today?"

"I'll accompany you to the store." Mitchell puffed up his chest. "Kaleb needs to report back to Dean about last night."

"Last night?" I echoed. "Nothing happened."

"The dead possum." Kaleb supplied helpfully.

I waved my hand. "Oh, that. Yeah. You should tell Dean."

Mitchell narrowed his eyes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "Hmm." Though he made a thoughtful sound, he didn't say much more.

Kaleb shifted after breakfast and darted into the trees at the back of the house.

Because I was Sídhe, I couldn't lie directly, though I could avoid the truth like no one's business.

I'd kept my secrets for so long that I wasn't even sure if I could tell the truth.

For many years, my grandmother had instilled a genuine fear of being hunted. She taught me to hide amongst Locket's humans and mind my business. The wolves didn't frighten me, but the Durrach did.

Fae didn't come to the Human Realities unless they needed something. To feed, steal, or trick unsuspecting people into bargains. The Durrach were sapient but unable to feel emotions.

After Kaleb left, I hadn't spoken much. I replayed our conversation in my head as I tried to remember how much I had revealed.

Mitchell shifted and followed on my heels as we walked to my car. I was running behind, but one of the benefits of being my own boss was that I wouldn't get fired for opening the store ten minutes late. One of the cons of being your own boss was taking the financial hit for that lost time, though.

Joel continued to watch from the end of the driveway as I walked to my car with a fully grown wolf by my side. I wondered what he thought of my ‘guard dog,' but realized I didn't care. As long as Joel left me alone and returned home to his new piece of fluff, I didn't care.

"I noticed something interesting about your ex-husband." Mitchell leaned forward between the two front seats of my car—having shifted without my noticing.

I slammed the brakes and cursed. "Don't do that!" I shouted. "I almost had a heart attack!"

Mitchell ignored my admonishment. "Your ex-husband has AB-negative blood."

"And that's interesting?" I glanced over my shoulders, my fists tightening against the steering wheel.

"It's rare, is all." Mitchell sniffed.

"How did you even find that out?" I frowned, focusing on the road.

"Medical records," Mitchell informed me with a grin. "I'm taking this assignment very seriously."

"Are you?" I scoffed.

"AB negative is rare." Mitchell continued without answering my question. "It often happens when some Fae-blood works its way into a lineage."

I said nothing.

"AB-negative blood has a strong smell," Mitchell noted. "We used to call humans with AB negative ‘Shroud Brides.' Many used to marry AB-negative humans to obscure their lineage. Keeping a Shroud close can protect young Sídhe from creatures that hunt by scent."

"Like wolves?" I said flatly. "You think I'm hiding something?"

"I think you're hiding from something." He corrected.

"I like you better when you can't speak," I replied.

We made it to the store in good time, and I chose a parking space near the security cameras. Mitchell, once again, shifted into his four-legged form—a midnight black wolf with yellow eyes and the tiniest white patch on the end of his tail. He followed me to the store and promptly made himself comfortable by the door.

Mitchell slept for the first hour, though his ears twitched whenever I made a sound.

I smelled her the moment the shop door opened, though I would have recognized her rotund pregnant belly and halo of blonde hair anywhere.

Faith Hilltop was my opposite in every way. The daughter of one of the Deacons of the local Baptist church.

At sixteen, her pregnancy had been quite the scandal in Locket. She'd been ousted from her family home in the middle of the night and found a shotgun house to rent in one of the neighborhoods by the Elementary school. No one knew who the father was at the time or how Faith could afford such a lovely home. Until I found the receipts and the life insurance policy on my kitchen island. Waiting there as if he wanted to get caught.

Faith Hilltop wore Poison by Dior. A perfume so strong that it made my nose tingle with every breath. When I thought back to the times I caught a trace on Joel's uniform and never questioned it, I felt a surge of anger.

Faith drifted forward, her hand on her belly. She ignored the midnight black wolf by the door as if he were a sleeping Labrador. Her eyes were fixed on mine, her pale cheeks flushed, and her hair falling out of its bun.

"You need to stop calling him." She snarled; her Tennessee twang thickened. "You're not married anymore. He left you."

I crossed my arms over my chest, thankful for the cash register between us.

It was hard to remember that Faith was a child of sixteen years as she stood in front of me, carrying Joel's baby. The only thing I couldn't do.

"I haven't called Joel once ." It took everything in me to keep my voice calm and even.

"You're a liar, Mallory Hunt. That man has been to your house every day this week." She snapped. "Fixing your taps, mowing your grass. Can't you do a darned thing yourself?"

Laughter burst from my lips. "He told you that? Joel didn't even mow the lawn when we were together."

Faith's lips mashed together. "I need him. I'm having his baby."

I pumped my fist. "More power to you, but maybe you should be having this conversation with Joel. I'm not inviting that man into my home. He's sat at the end of my driveway every day this week and every day last too."

Faith's expression soured, but she didn't accuse me of lying. "He said you're a freak . Why would he drive to your house?"

I gave her a long look. "I don't have the first clue," I told her. "How do you think it will go if I lodge a report for stalking?"

She saw my point immediately, and she clearly didn't like it. The young pregnant teen had run out of steam and words to say.

I unfolded my arms, feeling my face soften. "Joel can get angry," I warned as gently as I was able. "It doesn't always make sense what sets him off. Maybe he just didn't like me all that much in the end, but I spent so much time putting concealer on my bruises that I couldn't live with myself if I didn't warn you of what that man is capable of."

Anger flashed in her eyes. "He would never hit me."

I looked down at her belly, trying to hide the longing I felt. "You hold onto that baby," I told her. "You keep them safe."

"Are you threatening me?" Faith clutched her chest.

I shook my head sadly. "Faith, you need to leave my store."

As if it just occurred to her that she was on my property, she opened her mouth and closed it again before turning on her heel and rushing out the door.

Mitchell lifted his head and shot me a wolfy look I couldn't understand.