Page 3 of Howl You Doin'

"Okay, fine." Caleb stopped at Thompson's - former Thompson's - office door. "So maybe I need help. But finding someone we can trust? That's like trying to find a honest pixie at a poker game."

"What about your sister?"

"Sarah?" Caleb barked out a laugh. "The same Sarah who organized last year's pack picnic and somehow ended up with three rival covens of witches fighting over the potato salad?"

"Good point." Wade leaned against the wall. "Still, better than you trying to do everything yourself. You're already running yourself ragged."

"I'm fine."

"Sure. That's why you showed up to Tuesday's pack meeting wearing two different boots."

"They were both black," Caleb muttered, but his lips twitched. "Besides, I started a new fashion trend. Half the younger pack members showed up mismatched the next day."

Caleb opened the door to the office and sat down at Thompson’s old desk. His fingers drummed against the desk as memories surfaced. "You know, Victor wasn't always like this. Remember when our packs used to do those joint full moon runs?"

"Back when his ego could still fit through doorways?" Wade settled into a chair next to the desk. "Yeah, those were fun times."

"Until he decided beingalpha of one pack wasn't enough." The wood beneath Caleb's fingers warmed with his touch. "Remember that camping trip? Six years ago?"

"The one where he tried to prove he was the better alpha by catching more fish?"

"And ended up wrestling that selkie who thought he was hitting on her." Caleb chuckled. "She dumped him in the bay. Twice."

His wolf stirred at the image of Victor, sputtering and soaked, his precious designer clothes ruined by saltwater. Back then, their rivalry had been almost friendly. Competitive, sure, but not this... whatever it had become.

"You'd think after Sarah broke his nose at the Winter Solstice ball, he'd have learned some humility." Caleb smirked at the memory.

"In his defense, he didn't know she was your sister when he grabbed her ass."

"No, but he definitely knew after she introduced his face to the punch bowl." Pride colored Caleb's voice. His little sister had always been a spitfire. "That's when everything changed. His pride couldn't take being embarrassed in front of both packs."

2

FIONA

The salt-laden breeze ruffled Fiona's red hair as she strolled down the cobblestone streets of Saltwater Grove, her new home. A smile tugged at her lips as a young witch zipped past on a floating skateboard, purple sparks trailing in her wake.

"Now that's something you don't see in Boston," she muttered to herself, adjusting her messenger bag. The leather strap had started to warm beneath her touch – a common occurrence when she got excited.

The afternoon sun painted long shadows across the historic storefronts, their window displays featuring everything from enchanted wind chimes to self-stirring cauldrons.

Fiona smiled as she walked, her steps lighter than they'd been in months. "No more hiding spark-shooting fingers in my pockets," she whispered, letting a small flame dance across her palm. Rather than causing panic, a passing shifter simply nodded in greeting.

The scent of cinnamon and magic wafted from Cauldron & Cup ahead. Through the window, Fiona spotted a barista levitating multiple coffee cups.

"I could get used to this," Fiona said, pausing to watch a group of kids playing hopscotch. Their chalk lines glowed different colors as they jumped.

The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a constant backdrop to the town's magical chaos. In the distance, the Saltspire Lighthouse stood proud against the blue sky, its beacon already beginning to pulse with protective enchantments as sunset approached.

A shop door opened nearby, releasing a cloud of multicolored butterflies that scattered into the air. "Sorry about that!" called out the shopkeeper, an older man with pointed ears. "New shipment of wish-wings got loose again."

"No problem at all," Fiona replied, watching the ethereal insects disappear into the afternoon light. "Actually, this is perfect."

Fiona decided to turn around as she was pretty thirsty. She headed straight for Cauldron & Cup. The bell above the door chimed with a melodic tinkle. Fiona stepped inside the cafe, where the aroma of fresh coffee mingled with something distinctly magical – like starlight and sea spray bottled into a perfume.

The menu board floating above the counter shifted and changed, the chalk letters rearranging themselves every few seconds. Fiona squinted at offerings like "Moonbeam Macchiato (Warning: May cause temporary levitation)" and "Siren's Song Smoothie (Contains real merfolk scales)."

"First time?" A warm voice drew her attention to the counter where a woman with laugh lines around her eyes and silver streaks in her dark hair stood waiting. Her apron sparkled with what looked like actual constellations.

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