Chapter Two: Tamsin

"You!"

Her pulse thundered in her ears, like the ocean crashing against rocks during a storm, as the wolf got to his feet. Those amber eyes that met hers now had haunted her, taunted her, ever since that night. That night, when they had pierced the darkness as he chased her down.

That night when she had been exiled from her home.

Five years of isolation came flooding back to her, estranged from her friends, her coven, and her family swept over her like the ocean she had stared out at every night for fiveyears.

She took a step back as the air crackled around the wolf, and a man, rippling with muscles beneath disheveled clothes and shaggy hair, replaced the beast.

Mason. The son of the DuskWood alpha. Her mortal enemy.

But she was back now, and she would not give him a chance to hurt her again. With a rush of anger, she summoned her magic, sending a torrent of air through the tavern, which rattled the furniture piled to one side of the room.

"Wait!" The wolf shifter held out his hands to her and for a moment, she saw something in his eyes that confused her. Her magic dissipated as his very presence seemed to knock her off balance.

Understandable since she had not seen another human being since that night, and now she was face to face with the embodiment of that nightmare.

But it all made sense now. The man who attacked her on the beach had somehow opened a portal and brought her here... Wherever here was. In order for Mason, who had made an attempt on her life all those years ago, to have a chance to finish the job.

If that was the case, he had another thing coming.

Tamsin glanced around the room for any other dangers, but there was no one lurking behind the piled-up furniture or the bar to her side. Indeed, the only person in the tavern aside from her and the wolf was an old lady with messy hair.

Tamsin held her arms out, the air shimmering around her as she once again let her magic flow through her. Magic that had grown stronger, fueled by years of resentment as she trained herself, testing the limits of her power in the solitude of exile. Her fingers crackled with energy, ready to unleash a storm upon the man who had wronged her so deeply.

Mason slowly lowered his hands, a pleading look in his eyes. "Tamsin," he began, his voice soft and trembling, "I know…"

"You know nothing," she spat. "I have been preparing for the day we would meet again, wolf."

"Oookay." The old woman stepped in between them. The charms that covered her dress tinkled together as she moved. "I've been working on my conflict resolution skills lately, and I've found that taking a deep breath before vaporizing someone with magic really clears my head." She placed a hand on her diaphragm. "And a deep breath in." She inhaled deeply, and then exhaled slowly, "And out."

Tamsin's eyes narrowed, and she moved to step past the woman. She would not be distracted by this old witch.

"And in," the witch said more forcefully, her eyes snapped open and fixed on Tamsin.

"What the…" Tamsin's lungs filled gently with air.

"And…out."

As the air rushed from her lungs, she fought to hold on to her magic, which threatened to dissipate as her rage began to subside.

"And in." The witch turned her attention to the wolf shifter, who nodded and inhaled. "And out." Satisfied, she broke into a smile. "There, isn't that better? And not a stick of precious furniture has been broken."

"Furniture?" Tamsin asked. "I haven't even seen a stick of furniture for five years, thanks to this..." Her lip curled up as she sneered. "Wolf."

"I see. Now, I believe that furniture is very important to one's wellbeing. I, for one, could not go on without mine." The witch cast a shrewd glance at the wolf shifter. "Why don't you two sit down and talk this through? Perhaps if you were the cause for this fine lady to live without furniture for five years, you might consider buying her an etagere?"

"Talk it through?" Tamsin asked incredulously. "There is nothing to talk through. This wolf tried to kill me. And now he and his pack sent that thug to bring me here so he can finish the job."

"No!" Mason shook his head, and there was something desperate in his tone and the way he looked at her that made her pause.

Magic. That old witch was using some kind of spell to make Tamsin drop her defenses. She was in on it!

Damn, she must have gotten rusty over these last few years. Before she left, she'd have sensed a witch about to cast a spell, no matter how subtle they had been, and would have countered it.

But five years on an island with no one to talk to but the trees and the ocean had weakened her, not physically or magically, but mentally. She was tired, and she couldn't read people the way she could before. She needed to get out of here; she needed sanctuary.

She needed her coven and her friends.

People who would protect her. People like her friend and fellow coven witch, Sophie, who had been the one to allow her to escape, or the vampire Valaky, who shared her love of dusty old books, and had been the one to help her discover a copy of the original.

"Why don't I make us all some nice hot cocoa?" the witch asked. "I'm Morwenna, by the way, and this fine establishment is The Lonely Tavern." Morwenna looked from Tamsin to the wolf shifter and sighed, her congenial tone slipping as she asked, "And you are?"

"Leaving!" Tamsin backed away toward the door, but when she reached for the door handle, it refused to budge.

"Interesting," Morwenna murmured.

"Unlock it!" Tamsin demanded. "Or I will blast it from its hinges."

"I'd like to see you try," Morwenna snorted, then shook her head as Tamsin braced herself to hit the door with an explosive spell. "What I mean is, the door has proven time and time again its resistance to both magic and begging. So all your spell will do is damage..." She eyed the tables and chairs stacked in the corner. "The furniture."

"The furniture you were stacking out of the way when I arrived," came a low, gravelly voice.

"It speaks!" Tamsin said. Indeed, he spoke with a warm tone that promised safety, security, comfort... She had been alone for too long. Yes. That was the only reasonable explanation for why his voice was so…alluring.

"Well, it was hard to get a word in edgeways with you both..." He was cut off by a look from Morwenna.

"I am working hard here to diffuse what is obviously a contentious situation. You both barge into my tavern in the dead of night without a by your leave. Did I ask you to come here? Do you have an invitation?" Morwenna put her hands on her hips.

"No," the wolf mumbled.

"Exactly." Morwenna nodded. "However, the Hexes and Hugs book I've been reading suggests that we should not take all transgressions personally."

"I'm more than happy to leave if you open the door," Tamsin said, keeping her tone even and what she hoped was friendly. This witch seemed to be a little on edge. But then, she had every right to be since Tamsin had emerged from nowhere unannounced. Or did she? "Wait, what do you mean she was stacking the furniture?"

"When I arrived..."

"Unannounced and uninvited," Morwenna chipped in.

"When I arrived unannounced and uninvited." Mason cast a sideways glance at Morwenna before turning his attention back to Tamsin. "Morwenna was stacking the furniture out of the way, to the side of the room. A strange thing to be doing in the dead of night."

"I don't sleep well." Morwenna crossed her arms and looked away. "And I thought the Feng Shui was a little off."

"And she just happened to be moving the furniture away from where you and your friend portaled in from," he finished.

"My friend?" Tamsin crossed her arms. "He was attacking me. Just as you were attacking me once before. Remember? Or is your wolf brain the size of a goldfish..."

"My point," he interrupted with a growl, "is that I don't believe it is a coincidence. I do not believe you were unexpected."

"Morwenna?" Tamsin's magic simmered beneath the surface.

"Ah." Morwenna waggled her finger at the wolf shifter. "I see what you are doing here."

"You do?" Tamsin asked because she sure wished someone would explain it to her.

"Yes. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. A classic negotiation measure." Morwenna nodded and then shrugged. "Sure, I knew you were coming. I planned the whole thing. Now, since you two are now friends, I suggest you leave. Together."

"The door won't open," Tamsin reminded her.

"But have you tried leaving together?" Morwenna asked as if she were talking to a child. "That often works."

"Do you really think I am going anywhere with him?" Tamsin snarled.

Morwenna threw up her hands. "What is it with you wolves and witches always feuding and finding trouble over nothing? I don't know what kind of lover's tiff the two of you have had in the past…"

"What kind of lover's tiff?" Tamsin said incredulously.

"She's deflecting," Mason cut in quickly. "She knows something."

Tamsin stiffened as something clattered behind the bar. "Who's back there?"

"There's no one else here," the wolf shifter said, but he bristled as the sound of something dragging across the floor reached them.

"You've set us up." Tamsin reached for the door once more, but it still did not open. She tugged it harder, but it refused to budge even though there was no visible lock or bolt.

"I have done no such thing," Morwenna said as a broom came around the corner of the bar, brushing the floor as if held by some invisible creature. "It's just Brushworth."

"Brushworth." Tamsin backed away as the brush came toward her, sweeping the already clean floor. "You named the brush?"

"I didn't name him, that's just his name. He likes to keep things spick and span. Don't you, Brushworth?" Morwenna asked fondly. "Even at this hour, you're ready to sweep up the riffraff."

Tamsin half-expected the brush to answer. But it did not. Instead, it kept on sweeping as it made its way closer to the wolf shifter.

"Youch," the shifter said as the broom knocked into his ankles. He reached out for the broom handle, but it dodged out of his way as it kept on brushing against his ankles, shepherding him toward Tamsin. "Hey, watch it."

So this was the plan. Fool her into letting the wolf get close. Well, that was not going to happen. He had failed to kill her once before, and he was going to fail again.

"Oh, Brushworth, you're a much better bouncer than that soppy dragon shifter of a bartender." Morwenna waved a hand over her shoulder as she turned toward the bar. "Maybe you two should come back when the bar's open."

"Stop!" Mason tried to dodge around the broom, but it was surprisingly agile. "What about the person who ran upstairs? I've got to find them!"

"Trust me, if they've gone upstairs there'll be no finding them, and no finding you if you followed."

"Don't come any closer!" Tamsin prepared to cast a spell once again, but as the brush ushered the shifter toward her, the door suddenly flung open, and with one final sweep, followed by a strong gust of wind, Tamsin fell out of the tavern, landing sprawled in the cobbled alleyway outside.

The wolf nimbly kept his balance as he, too, was swept into the alleyway. Then the tavern door slammed shut with a determined thud.

Tamsin scrambled to her feet and looked around, muttering a protection spell as her eyes landed on the man who had tried to kill her.

"It's okay. Relax," he said with his hands outstretched, as if trying to calm the situation. As if that could save him from her wrath.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't turn you into a rug," she spat. "Or something more conventional, like a toad or newt."

"Because…of what Morwenna said. And the tavern has a reputation for..." he replied, glancing up.

She followed his gaze to the sign above the door.

The Lonely Tavern.

"For…?" she asked against her better judgment. Everything inside her was screaming to either fight or run.

"For bringing people together. The door would not open for you. And you heard what Morwenna said about us needing to leave together," he said. "It's been said that this place is an agent of fate."

Tamsin snorted. "An agent of fate? This place? I find that hard to believe. Perhaps even harder than to believe that you don't mean me harm. Wasn't it fate, or rather prophecy, that left me in exile for five years?"

"You're not wrong," Mason admitted.

"And that prophecy states quite clearly that your pack and my coven are mortal enemies. A point you obviously believed when you broke into my apartment and chased me through the woods."

"That was before…"

"And that makes it all all right then, does it?" she asked, her anger brewing once more.

"I—"

"I don't want to hear it." Tamsin raised her hand to shut him up. "I think, now that we have left the tavern…"

"Together," he said with emphasis. "Don't you think that means something?"

"Yes. Morwenna didn't want me to break her precious furniture when I zapped you." The magic built within her, fueled by her growing anger and resentment.

"Is that what you really want?" He took a step back, his arms outstretched. "Then do it."

The temptation was real. She'd dreamed of taking revenge on this wolf every day since she'd been stranded alone on a faraway island. And that had been a lot of days.

But now she was face to face with him. Now she looked him in the eye...

She couldn't do it.

Frustration flowed through her. Had she grown so weak during her time alone?

No. It was not weakness that stayed her hand. It was the need for answers.

This shifter had been driven to kill her because of some stupid prophecy.

This prophecy that had whipped everyone up into a frenzy when the signs had appeared. Signs that no one knew were important until Tamsin herself had found the ancient text outlining them along with Valaky, vampire and long-standing ally to the coven, and Tamsin.

She would love nothing more than answers. Answers as to who wrote the prophecy, and why it had chosen her.

And more importantly, how to avoid causing the prophesied events—the end of the coven and the pack—to come to pass, since staying away until the fated time was no longer an option.

But for now, she needed to seek advice from her coven elder. A wise woman who she trusted above all others. Who, although she hadn't seen her when she fled, must have been instrumental in her escape. Who would know what she must do next.