BEWITCHED & BOTHERED

21 ✰ Afternoon, October 11th

"I made out with a werewolf, Lucy."

Lucy blinked at me as if I'd grown three heads...plus three tits.

"Come again?" Her tone was soaked with palpable concern.

I didn't get the chance to elaborate because a sharp pain at my big toe ripped me right out of the conversation.

"Ouch!" I resisted the urge to scream bloody murder and other vulgar obscenities, as the Thai nail technician dug at my ingrown toenail.

"That hurt?" the nail-tech asked, her lips contorted into a saccharine smile with a touch of sadism.

With unshed tears of pain in my eyes, I gave her an affirmative nod. "Just a bit."

"Good! You think about it next time you wear shoes for baby!" the sadist lectured and carried on digging, muttering in disappointment to her colleagues in fast-paced Thai.

"I don't wear shoes for baby," I mumbled with a haughty pout.

I looked to my sister for support but met her horrified expression instead. It then occurred to me that I had yet to answer Lucy's question.

"You made out with what?" Lucy reiterated.

I glanced about the nail salon, a little haunt in Chinatown often frequented by younger fashionistas of the Big Apple. Thai music was blaring through the crackly speaker at a deafening volume, the AC nonexistent so it was sweltering, and the pungent perfume of acrylic and sweat assaulted the air. 

Still, it was full of customers. 

When I saw that people were too busy talking to each other or on their phones to eavesdrop on our conversation, I opened my mouth to speak again.

"With Magnus," I said, my chest hollowing at the mention of his name. "But don't worry, it's over now. He's engaged."

There was a freeing feeling that washed over me at that instant, and although it couldn't quite wash away the stench of betrayal that latched itself onto my chest like a virus, I was relieved that finally Lucy knew. 

One day was enough for moping, I figured. I was resolved to let Magnus go—because he wasn't mine in the first place. I knew I had to confess my sins to my sister, who'd been in the dark about the whole 'I want to boink a werewolf' situation. 

In fact, I was surprised I was able to keep it in for this long.

It was the first step in eradicating whatever the hell was growing between Magnus and I. 

A sick, twisted tornado of lust and frustration that I simply did not have any more time to waste on, not when I was in danger of losing my powers forever. With Lucy in the loop, she can act as my trusted confidant, or more accurately, my parole officer.

"Magnus MacCallan..." Lucy's voice was barely above whisper. "An Alpha Werewolf?"

"Yep." I blew out a small breath.

Lucy's eyes and mouth were rounded like saucers. "How did that happen? And when?"

"At a GQ shoot. He was being interviewed while I was hired to style him. Purely coincidental."

I didn't bother to mention LeCourt Manor, our first encounter in his car, or the part where he carried me up like a sexy caveman to his library.

Some things were too painful to relieve, after all.

Magnus' words drifted in from the corners of my memory, 'Someone must have a raging hard-on for us.'

That someone must have a terribly wicked sense of humour too.