Page 1 of BeWolfed

Elowen

Iclenched the steering wheel as I crossed into Midnight Creek, my witch sight flaring to life without warning. The wards that should have shimmered with warm, protective magic now crackled, thin and fractured like old glass.Wrong.

A bleary-eyed fae scrubbed at graffiti scrawled across The Grove Gaming Store. The words "WITCH PLAGUE" still bled through in jagged, half-erased letters. My protective magic surged instinctively, prickling beneath my skin before I tamped it down.Control. Always control.

Three weeks. That's all I'd been gone—since my last visit during my college’s spring break. But something had changed in my absence. And it wasn't just that Aunt Rose was missing—though that was the most worrying.

Two years ago, I'd left Midnight Creek eager to reinvent myself, to become someone defined by more than tragedy and other people's expectations. I'd enjoyed pretending to be a normal college sophomore with normal worries at my mostly-human university, and not being "poor Elowen, the orphan Rose raised" or "little Elowen with the unpredictable magic."

But now my only family was missing—the woman who'd held me through nightmares after my parents died, who'd never given up on me even when my wild magic destroyed half her inventory. The thought of Rose in danger made my chest constrict with a fear I couldn't afford to show.

And my hometown… was this. The bustle of supernatural businesses along Main Street felt subdued. The Hungry Wolf Diner's windows were dark and it was barely sundown. Luna's Fortune & Tea Room had boards over one window, their scorched edges suggesting magical damage.

I parked on the street outside Midnight Brew, desperate for caffeine after the long drive. The coffee shop had been my second home during high school, back when I'd spent countless hours studying while Rose worked late at the bookstore. The memory of sharing witch's brew—a dark brew coffee with hints of cinnamon—with werewolf study groups and fae art students made the current tension even sharper. The protective wards along the windows prickled against my senses like static electricity.

When I stepped inside, conversations stuttered to a halt. A young vampire I'd tutored in magical theory last summer quickly looked away. The fae barista's smile went professionally blank as I approached the counter, her silver-dusted wings twitching.

"The usual?" I asked hopefully. Rose and I had been regulars here for years.

"We're... out of the witch's brew blend," the barista said, her eyes darting nervously toward other customers. "Supply issues."

Right. The special blend came from Crystal Clear Apothecary next door to Rose's shop. "Regular coffee is fine. To go please."

She took my money without meeting my eyes. At a nearby table, two werewolves hunched over their phones, voices carrying just enough for my enhanced hearing: "—can't even open The Crystal Connection app without getting flooded with witch profiles. Like they're trying to take over that too—"

"Elowen?" A familiar voice broke through the tension.

Charlotte stood in the doorway, petite but impossible to miss, looking as sunny as ever with her blonde hair and wide smile. At least my best friend hadn't changed. She'd chosen Midnight Creek College while I'd fled across the state, but our friendship had survived the distance.

"I thought that was your car! When did you get back?"

"Just now." I hugged her tight, grateful for one normal interaction. Charlotte was human, but she was one of the ones 'in the know' in town. She'd even been accepted into Midnight Creek College's supernatural studies department.

"Have you heard anything about—"

"Not here," she murmured. "Let's walk."

I took my coffee from the counter and followed her out into the spring evening.

She linked her arm through mine like old times, her shorter stride falling into step with mine, though her grip was tense. "It's gotten worse since you left—the divide between witches and other supernaturals. Rose was one of the only ones still trying to bridge it."

"What happened?" Midnight Creek had always had its politics, but never this level of open hostility.

"It started small. Whispers about witches hoarding magical knowledge, controlling too much of the town's power. Then businesses started picking sides." Charlotte lowered her voice. "Rose said it's happening in other towns too."

Back at college, my roommate Toni had faced relentless judgment from her coven—just for hooking up with someoneoutside her species. I'd dismissed it as old-fashioned prejudice then, but now...

We passed Crystal Clear Apothecary, where Mrs. Rowe, the witch owner, argued with a delivery man whose ears marked him as fae. "—perfectly good herbs just because they're witch-grown?" she demanded. "Twenty years I've supplied this town—"

"Orders from management," he muttered, climbing back into his truck. "Nothing personal."

Across the street, a young werewolf and witch couple hurried past, heads down as others openly stared. The sight made my chest ache. This had never been a problem before. Rose had often said that supernatural bonds—especially rare ones between species—were sacred things, transcending politics. Now it seemed even those connections were being poisoned by whatever was happening in town.

"Rose was worried," Charlotte continued. "She said someone was deliberately stoking the tensions, but she couldn't prove it. And then..."

"She vanished." The words tasted bitter. "And the police dismissed it."

"People do travel and forget to check in," the sheriff had said when I called, his tone dismissive.

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