"Aren't you supposed to be busy?" I approached the car with trepidation, my heart thundering in my chest with every click of my heel.
Magnus had a smile on, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Am I?" he inquired innocently. "I'm free now."
"Why are you here, Alpha Magnus?"
"Please." Magnus' jaw instantly clenched. "Just Magnus."
I sighed at his disregard for formalities.
"Fine, then I'm just Lena, too. Why are you here, Magnus?"
Magnus' gaze softened and his charming smile came back at full force, causing my stomach to flip.
"I was afraid you might get lost again," he teased, not really answering my question.
"Contrary to what you think, I'm a powerful enchantress," I said, resisting the urge to stick out my tongue, "not some common 'wee' witch."
Magnus looked skeptical but he didn't say anything, choosing instead to exit the car and saunter over to face me.
He was in a suit, I noticed, the cool grey fabric complementing his slim navy tie.
It was the same suit, or rather, identical to the one he was wearing on the night of the General Meeting. I could tell by the relaxed fit of his blazer that he wasn't much of a risk-taker.
And yet here he was with me.
The air around us grew heavy, and I got a whiff of his addictive, masculine scent.
Cedar and expensive leather.
"Get in, Lena Winterhaven." He opened the car door and nodded towards it.
Magnus seemed like he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed, so I did the opposite.
"And let you feed me to your pack? No, thank you," I answered with folded arms.
His lips parted into a laugh. It was a hearty, booming sound that made my skin vibrate.
"I'll be a good boy, I promise," Magnus said and crossed his heart like a boy's scout.
The act was so endearing it chipped my defences. And those icy greys didn't help either.
I considered the broomstick in my clutch bag; it was one of those mini portable ones made in China that didn't quite fly right and jerked every time I went too fast.
Honestly, the thought of using it didn't seem as appealing as riding home in a car, safe from the cold night chill.
"Alright," I gave in after a dramatic pause. "But only because it's freezing."
"Oh aye, if you say so. Next time maybe you should dress for the weather."
I had the sudden urge to smack the blasted smile off his face, but he didn't deserve to know how he riled me up.
Ignoring his comment, I slid into the buttery leather seat, painfully aware that Magnus' eyes followed my every move. Once I was properly seated, he shut the door gently, trapping me in the cedar and leather-perfumed vessel designed to make my knees weak.
Damn.
What was it about Magnus MacCallan that made me so flustered? Even now, I was trying my best to quell the strange sensation pooling in my nether regions.
"You can do this," I muttered, taking in shallow breaths. "He's a werewolf. You're a witch. He's beneath you, remember?"
When Magnus entered the car, my brain quieted.
"Talking to yourself?" he asked whilst pulling out into the main road.
I tucked a ginger strand behind my ear. "Why? Did you hear me?"
Magnus looked at me for a brief moment, before concentrating on the road once more. "No. So where to?"
He was obviously lying, but I was grateful he changed the subject then.
After telling him my address, he let out a low whistle.
"Townhouse in the Village. Very fancy," Magnus drawled.
"You're one to talk, Mr. CEO," I said.
Magnus cocked his head. "I'm surprised you know who I am. Me, a lowly he-wolf."
I flushed at his comment.
"It was a joke, wee witch." But his tone hinted otherwise.
"Stop calling me that," I threatened, cheeks hot.
"Why should I?"
"It's awfully condescending." Also, I was starting to get used to it.
"But it's true, I'm nearly two centuries-old."
Magnus had a point. Werewolves and witches shared the same age-defying traits so although Magnus was significantly older, he'd continue looking like a man in his early thirties for at least another century.
I shot back, "Then what if I called you big wolf?"
Magnus' voice was deep and delicious. "You'd be correct."
My legs crossed even tighter.
I really dug my grave with that remark.
Where was all of this desire when I was with Damiano?
"Tara's excited to be filling you in about the meeting." It was an obvious deflection, but I said it nonetheless.
"Really?" Magnus furrowed his brows. "Must be a Gamma thing."
"A Gamma thing?"
"Aye. All Gammas have an incessant need to please Alphas," he said nonchalantly.
I knew better than to ask about werewolf hierarchy, but curiosity got the better of me.
"Isn't Tara is the only daughter of Alpha Murdoch? Doesn't that make her an Alpha incumbent like you were?"
Magnus looked troubled then, but I made no comment about it.
"Female werewolves don't change ranks. They can only achieve a higher social status by marrying an Alpha to become his reigning Luna."
"How sexist. But lucky you, I guess," I tried to conceal the snippiness in my tone, but probably failed miserably.
Magnus gave me an enigmatic answer. "Not as lucky as I can be."
I almost laughed. "You know, that sounded vaguer than a fortune cookie."
Then he gave me that damn stomach-flipping smile again.
"What can I say? I'm a man of mystery."
"So full of mystery that you haven't answered my question."
"What question?" Magnus acted coy.
I spoke calmly, "Why did you bother showing up even after the meeting ended? Also, why are you driving a witch home, despite being the Alpha to one of the most respected werewolf packs in the continent?"
"That's more than one question."
"You're incorrigible." I looked at him, wide-eyed.
"Among other things," he added with a roguish smirk.
Suddenly, I felt like laughing. My half-baked plan to break the Curse had obviously failed, and now I was in the oddest situation, seated at the front seat next to my mortal enemy. Only, I didn't hate him at all. Magnus might make me feel all the possible emotions in the spectrum.
All but hatred.
And instead of strangling him to death, I wanted to hike up my skirt, straddle him like a rodeo cowgirl and kiss him like the world was going to burn and nothing else mattered.
"What are you smiling about?"
I blurted out, "It's nothing. Just thinking how crazy the traffic is in Manhattan."
Only, the roads were relatively clear.
Magnus arched his strong brow. "You're going to need a better lie than that."
"Anyway," I said, eager to drop the subject. "I might as well tell you now, that you and I are stuck with handling the decorations for the Ball. Don't you think it's funny how the Universe keeps throwing us together?"
I hadn't expected Magnus to react so negatively at the question, because his grey eyes went steely while his mouth formed a hard, straight line.
It was probably best not to reveal that I was his stylist for the GQ shoot happening the day after next, too.
"The Moon Goddess has a sense of humour, I guess," Magnus said evenly.
I snorted. "Moon Goddess? Don't drag me into your werewolf superstition."
"You're a witch and you don't believe in celestial beings?"
I caught him cautiously glancing at the moon in the night sky, as if I'd just blasphemed and divine punishment was sure to follow.
"I always thought worshipping a higher power was a little cult-ish. Something only mortals would do—no offence."
"None taken," he said brusquely. "Still, something out there must have a raging hard-on for us."
In spite of it all, I laughed. "I suppose you're right."
Silence filled the car as I looked out the window, focusing on the passing streetlights. After a while, we reached my townhouse and Magnus parked the car beside the curb. I was about to take off my seatbelt when his voice cut through the silence.
"To be honest, Lena," Magnus said and I cursed my toes for curling at the sound of my name in his mouth. "I'm not sure why I came."
"Wait, what are we talking about?" I asked, disoriented.
"All I know is, one minute I was driving back to the pack house from work and then," he paused, as if not quite believing what he was saying either, "the next thing I knew, I was parked right across from the restaurant, waiting."
For who?
He kept his eyes on the steering wheel for the longest time, and when he didn't speak, I asked with extreme trepidation, "Magnus?"
"I saw you with the vampire." Something flashed across his face, but vanished almost immediately. "I was sure he'd...make sure you got home safe."
"But he didn't," I quipped, noticing his knuckles were beginning to turn white from gripping the steering wheel too hard.
Magnus looked at me once more, and the warmth slowly returned to his eyes.
"No, he didn't."
"Magnus," I said frustratedly, "what do you want from me?"
He smiled sardonically before answering, "Friendship?"
"Ha!" I bellowed. "A witch and a werewolf can never be friends. Lest you want people chasing us down with pitchforks."
"I've always been a hell-raiser, myself," he said and I eyed his ill-fitted suit sceptically.
"So this is what you want? A friendship with a witch?"
"Not just any witch. You, Leonora."
"It's just Lena."
"I prefer wee witch."
"For fuck's sake!"
I reached for the safety buckle but in a split second, Magnus had gripped my wrist to stop me. The heat of his skin spread through mine like flames, sending delicious jolts up my entire arm.
He was looking at me now, the features of his magnificent face relaxing.
"Can we?" he asked gently.
"Can we what?" I inquired, my throat strangely dry.
"Can we be friends, Lena?"
In one smooth motion, he unbuckled my seatbelt and hoisted me over to his side.
Coincidentally, I found myself right where I wanted to be a daydream ago, straddling him scandalously with my skirt hiked all the way up, exposing a little of my lacy black underwear.
His addictive, woody scent invaded my senses and my body reacted traitorously.
"Your definition of 'friendship' is very different from mine," I whispered, all the air seemingly gone from my lungs. Magnus smiled devilishly.
"We're special friends," he murmured and then nuzzled into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply with animalistic fervour.
In a haze, I tilted my chin to allow him greater access. The evidence of his desire was strong between my thighs, and I could hardly think of a better sensation in the world. I arched my spine, bringing myself closer, yearning to feel his warmth, his hardness.
A deep groan rumbled from Magnus' throat, and I felt it with every fibre of my body.
When he met my gaze once more, Magnus looked possessed, like something else had taken over him. Under the moonlight, his eyes were brilliantly gleaming, like precious diamonds.
This road was treacherous, and if we weren't careful, it could send us both over the edge.
"Choose wisely."
The mental image of Elder Lyrina felt like a much-needed slap to the face and I instantly sobered up. So before I could give in to Magnus' blasted grey eyes and my own overpowering carnal need, I snapped my fingers, teleporting myself away.
I reappeared outside the car just in time to see Magnus' frazzled expression. After realising what happened, Magnus turned his head in my direction and rolled down the window, smoothing his disheveled hair with one hand.
Glittery purple smoke escaped from the Rover and floated into the dark sky.
"Sorry, friend," I said cheekily, despite my wobbly knees. "Gotta dash. But thanks for the ride!"
After a beat, Magnus smirked. "Likewise."
I went completely crimson once I realised what he meant.
"Goodnight, Magnus!" I spun around and sprinted towards my front door.
"Lena, as a friend I thought I should tell you this—"
Begrudgingly, I swivelled around to meet his eyes once more.
"That's one hell of a dress."
And then he drove away into the night, leaving me bewitched and extremely bothered.