Page 11 of Monsters' Manor

“Just forget about it. It never happened.”

Renwick, of course, isn’t going to take that for an answer. He’s hot on my heels as I head for the path through the woods.

“Gods, Rosemary, will you stop and talk to me for a second?”

“No,” I toss over my shoulder, not breaking my stride. “Why would I?”

Renwick just laughs, and the sound is followed a moment later by the weight of a big, warm hand landing on my shoulder.

“Because I want to apologize to you, you frustrating witch.”

Shrugging off his hand, I spin around to face him. “For what?”

I absolutely miscalculated the distance between us, because Renwick is there,rightthere, a wall of sculpted muscle and maroon skin. He’s tall enough that I have to crane my neck up to look at him.

This close to him, I swear I can feel the heat of his body radiating the distance between us, and catch the slightest hint of sharp spice in his scent.

I have absolutely no business standing so close—feeling him,smellinghim—so I take a step back and cross my arms over my chest, waiting for him to answer my question.

“For whatever I did or said that made you react the way you did. I wanted to tease you, Rosie, not actually hurt your feelings.”

It’s a bit of a half-assed apology, but his expression grows softer as he offers it. Sincere.

“It wasn’t… necessarily anything you did,” I say reluctantly.

It really wasn’t. I can take Renwick’s teasing. I can take him trying to strong-arm me into doing what my aunt wants me to do. What I couldn’t take was the magick—my magick—bubbling up to the surface without warning. An instinct I called on without conscious thought. A reminder of just how little control I have over it.

“Then what was it?”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. But I’ll take your apology if it means you’ll leave me the hell alone.”

“Not a chance, Rosie.”

Rolling my eyes, I turn and start walking away. “Fine. Suit yourself. It’s your own breath you’re wasting.”

“Not a waste, when I know you’ll come around eventually,” he teases, falling into step beside me.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“So,” Renwick continues as we start up the long hill toward the Acres. “If it wasn’t me being my charming self that upset you, and you won’t tell me what did, is there anything else I can—”

“Rosemary.”

The bottom falls out of my stomach as I turn and see the witch standing in the middle of the path behind us. The very last person I want to talk to right now.

“Odelia,” I say, trying my best not to grimace as I face her. “What’s up?’

Odelia looks me up and down. “It would seem you’ve been exercising your magick.”

I whirl around to face Renwick, staring daggers at him. “You told her?”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t, Rosie, I swear. I—”

“He didn’t tell me,” Odelia cuts in. “You think with as many wards and enchantments as I have cast over this place, I wouldn’t be able to feel a new strain of Bramwell magick pop up? Especially one I know so well?”

Of course she could feel it. Of course she could feel my father’s magick, her brother’s magick.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” I mutter, staring down at the carpet of fallen leaves beneath my feet. “And not something I plan on repeating.”

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