BEWITCHED & BOTHERED

29 ✰ Noon, October 16th

"This is a bad idea," Lucy's voice floated into my subconscious.

A weary sigh seeped from my lips. "Bringing this in your tote certainly doesn't help."

The leather tote bag in my lap stirred gently in reply. Inside, an orange ball of fur curled up in deep slumber, emitting a steady rhythm of soft purrs. When she picked me up earlier, Lucy had placed the tote on my lap with an unspoken apology etched in her face.

"This is Roxy. She's coming with us," she had uttered with a casual shrug, like it was not at all strange to keep a blind, three-legged kitten in one's purse. I merely nodded in reply, after reminding myself that these things weren't considered strange where Lucinda Winterhaven was concerned.

Roxy, I later discovered, was rescued by Lucy just yesterday from a soaked cardboard box in an alleyway. Since Lucy wasn't able to find a suitable foster by the time she got my last minute text, she brought her along.

Although, peering at the fur ball's sleeping form, I didn't mind it one bit, especially because the sound of her purring made me all gooey on the inside. I stroked Roxy's remaining front paw, smiling when she rolled onto her back as a silent demand for a belly rub.

"I'm serious. You, Magnus, and a hotel is a recipe for disaster." Lucy's eyes widened at the idea.

"Which is precisely why, sister mine, you'll be there to chaperone." I clicked my tongue, which caused Roxy to open one of her cloudy grey eyes quizzically.

"I can think of better ways to spend my Sundays than being a chaperone for two grown adults," she retorted after a scoff.

"Well, I'd very much like to be a curse-free witch who doesn't have the hots for an engaged werewolf. But we don't always get what we want, do we?"

"Touché."

We (slowly) cruised towards the Catskills accompanied by the soundtrack of Carole King and Roxy's soft purring. Underneath my calm exterior, there was a hurricane brewing, growing stronger the closer we got. And when we crossed the decorative iron gates of the Burnham Park Hotel, I could practically feel my armpits perspire out of nervousness.

It was obvious that Magnus had selected the perfect venue for the Ball. To my relief, the hotel was a lot less 'The Shining', and more 'Bridgerton'. Although there was a winding hedge maze in front of the entrance, it was saved from looking ominous by the blooming red roses that dotted all over the green, glimmering like rubies under the afternoon sun.

The beautiful scenery did little to quell my anxiety, especially when I saw the two towering figures standing at the bottom steps of the entrance—Magnus and Callum.

The two werewolves registered our presence almost immediately, their eyes fixed on Lucy's yellow bug as we parked next to the maze. Magnus' grey eyes were cold and assessing, causing my stomach to somersault in anticipation. Callum, however, glowered particularly at Lucy, that croissant frown ever-present.

"Shit. They're here," I muttered nervously, fidgeting in my seat just enough to wake Roxy up, who mewled in dissatisfaction at the disturbance.

Lucy turned to me with a bewildered look on her face. "Relax, Lena. It's not like you to get so worked up over a guy."

I let out a frustrated groan. "You're right." But then again, no guy had ever made me feel like Magnus did, but I strategically chose not to divulge that fact.

"Let's do this." Lucy gave me a reassuring nod, looping the tote bag with Roxy through her arm and clamping the opening shut under her armpit.

I nodded a little too vigorously and replied a weak, "Let's."