Page 6 of BeWolfed

"This isn't your fight," I said, the words automatic but lacking conviction.

"My aunt. My fight." She leaned forward. "And based on what just happened, you could use someone watching your back. Someone they won't expect you to work with."

The logic was sound, even if every instinct warned against partnership. I studied her—the professional exterior that couldn't quite hide the fierce protectiveness beneath. Rose had mentioned her niece's powerful but untamed magic, how she'dleft to escape the pressure of Midnight Creek's expectations. I hadn't expected the steel beneath the bookish appearance, or how much it would appeal to both man and wolf.

"Fine," I conceded, ignoring my wolf's pleased rumble. "But we do this carefully. These people are dangerous."

"I gathered that from the dramatic threats and glowing red eyes." Her sarcasm couldn't quite hide her relief at my agreement. "So where do we start?"

"Rose's research. The cave storage behind the bookstore." I lowered my voice further. "She kept her most dangerous findings there."

"How do you know about the cave storage?" Suspicion crept back into her tone.

"Your aunt showed me." Which wasn't entirely a lie. Rose had shown me the storage after I'd already found it on my own. The witch had been calculating, deliberate in what information she shared. As if setting pieces on a game board only she could see completely. "It's where we compared notes on the blood magic cases."

Elowen nodded slowly. "Then that's where we'll start. Tonight. We can't waste time."

"Hold on," I countered. "We’ll be more effective if we take a few hours to prepare. I’ll get and organize my notes, and you can check her letters, her calendar—there might be something there that changes our approach. And if we go in blind, we could miss something important."

She hesitated, frustration clear in the tight set of her jaw. "I don’t like waiting."

"I know," I said, keeping my voice steady. "But rushing in without all the information or sleep won’t help your aunt."

Her shoulders dropped slightly, tension giving way to reluctant agreement. "Fine. First thing in the morning."

I tossed back my drink. "I'll meet you at the bookstore at eight."

As I watched her walk back toward the bookstore, her posture straight despite the worry I knew she carried, something shifted inside me. My wolf recognized it before I did—the beginnings of respect. Of interest. Of something more dangerous than either.

Tomorrow we'd search for answers in Rose's hidden research. Tonight, I'd try to ignore how Elowen's scent lingered on my jacket, or how my wolf kept replaying the moment she'd stood beside me against the young pack member.

I had a feeling nothing would be the same after this. For better or worse, Rose's niece had just become part of my investigation. Part of my carefully isolated existence.

And my wolf didn't mind at all.

Elowen

Last night's cleanup had barely touched the devastation in my aunt's store. In the harsh morning light, evidence of Rose's abduction was everywhere—books displaced from precise locations she'd maintained for years, scattered papers covered in her handwriting, that faint magical residue we hadn't fully cleared. I ran my fingers along the edge of an ancient grimoire, feeling the lingering echo of foreign magic and fought back a wave of nausea. Someone had put their hands on Rose's books—on Rose.

Sleep had eluded me despite my exhaustion. I'd spent hours poring over Rose's appointment book and correspondence, searching desperately for clues, finding only cryptic notes about "border issues" and "community tensions." Every dead end amplified my growing fear. Rose was the only family I had left. After my parents died, she'd been mother, mentor, and anchor. Her disappearance left a void that threatened to swallow me whole.

The bell above the door chimed precisely at eight.

"Morning." Rudy's deep voice carried across the store as he approached with two coffee cups, setting one on the counter. "Witch's brew. The barista at Midnight Brew suddenly remembered how to make it when I asked."

I accepted the coffee, recognizing the peace offering. "Twenty-dollar tip?"

"Something like that." He gestured toward the materials I'd spread across the desk. "Find anything?"

"Rose was tracking something far beyond local tensions." I indicated the papers—her notes on pack politics, blood magic sigils, and the half-finished letter warning of interference. "I've been trying to connect the dots since dawn. She knew something was coming."

Rudy studied the materials, pointing to symbols I hadn't recognized. "Something about these look familiar."

"What are they?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

Just then a movement flickered between the shelves.

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