Page 7 of Fetch Me A Mate
“People come here when they need something they can’t name,” Miriam said as they paused at a window overlooking the square. “Your job is to help them find it.”
Diana clutched the tea tin tighter. “But I’m human. What if I don’t?—”
“Have the instincts?” Miriam cut her off gently. “Your gift is different, not lesser. You feel what others feel. That means you’ll know what guests need before they do. Trust it.”
Diana looked down at the square. Locals bustled between shops, the Book Nook’s windows gleaming, the café chalkboard promising chai and gossip. Beneath it all, her sense picked up the steady hum of the Veil, woven into every heartbeat of town life.
“You belong if you choose to,” Miriam said. “That’s the only rule that matters here. Choice, Diana. Not blood, not power, not history. Choice.”
The truth settled into her bones like steeping tea. “I choose to.”
“Good.” Miriam’s grin turned sly. “Now let’s make it official. Time to meet Twyla.”
The café bell chimed as they stepped into warmth and cinnamon. Twyla Honeytree looked up from behind the counter, wheat-colored hair wrapped in a scarf, her smile radiant.
“Miriam! And you must be Diana.” She rounded the counter with effortless grace. “Welcome to the heart of Hollow Oak.”
“Thank you. This place is lovely,” Diana said, shaking her hand. Warmth rolled off Twyla, with a shimmer that hinted at her fae blood.
“Coffee? Tea? Fresh scones begging for company?” Twyla grinned.
“Coffee would be perfect.”
Twyla worked the espresso machine, movements quick and sure. The café smelled of sugar, bread, and something floral that might have been magic.
“So,” Twyla said, sliding over a mug, “how’s renovation? Heard hammering before the sun was up.”
“Rowan’s making progress.” Diana took a sip. Perfect coffee.
“Rowan Baneville,” Twyla said, voice light but speculative. “There’s a wolf who needs a good reason to stay.”
Diana nearly choked. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, nothing.” Twyla waved airily, but her grin was wicked. “First time he’s stuck with a project this big. First time he’s had the right motivation.”
“Twyla,” Miriam warned, though her tone was amused.
“What? Just observation.” Twyla reached under the counter and produced a wicker basket lined with gingham. “Take these to fuel the renovation. Can’t have hardworking wolves going hungry.”
Diana accepted the basket, warm with fresh scones. “Thank you, but I’m not sure what you’re implying about?—”
“About wolves needing reasons?” Twyla leaned closer. “Honey, some folks drift until they find something worth protecting. Worth building a future around.”
Heat climbed Diana’s neck. “We just met yesterday.”
“Time moves different in Hollow Oak,” Twyla said with a knowing smile. “Especially when the Veil nudges.”
“The Veil doesn’t push,” Miriam corrected. “It clarifies.”
Diana looked between them. “You’re matchmaking.”
“We’re observing,” Twyla said sweetly. “But that wolf’s been circling the idea of home for months. First time he’s stepped inside somewhere.”
She tucked extra pastries into the basket. “These are his favorites. Not that I’m suggesting anything.”
“Of course not,” Diana said dryly.
“Good. Suggestion implies subtlety.” Twyla laughed, bright as bells. “Wolves don’t do halfway. When they commit, it’s everything.”
