Page 54 of Wishing for a Werewolf
The dragon keeps flipping through channels, his black claws clicking against the buttons on the remote. He stops on a close-up of a human woman with a wide, tan face and long, curly brown hair. Her hazel eyes fill with delight as she says, “I think I love him! I know it’s really fast. But you know what they say: the heart wants what the heart wants, and mine wants Julian.”
“Too soon to be in love? Do humans worry about these things?” I ask. I’ve been drawn to Autumn since the first moment I saw her. Even though I told her it was her hair, it must be something more, for there are other redheads in town, and none of them attract me like she does.
None of them are my fire.
Luke grunts and settles onto the couch, which Autumn had me move to face the television.
I sit down beside him as we both get lost in the events on screen, which are all about human mating rituals on anisland.
My phone rings, the noise startling me from my thoughts.
“Rune, we need you on the town green!” Diamond says. “Hurry. It’s sprites. They’re trying to enchant all the humans. I just lost half my customers!”
“On my way.” I pocket the phone and look at Luke. “Did you hear?”
He grunts a yes, his fae hearing especially acute in his weredragon form.
We hurry outside, and he launches into the air, his red-scaled wings snapping wide. “Meet you there.”
I let my magic rush through me and shift into my faster werewolf form as I dash into the trees, heading straight toward town. The sun dips low in the west, the light dropping to the warmer gold of evening. Birds cheep, settling in for the night, and I startle a rabbit, which bounds into a cluster of ferns, its tempting scent beckoning for a hunting chase. Ignoring it, I continue on at full speed, soon cutting past the library and onto the green, where a small crowd of humans stands on the grassy area.
In the middle, a flock of sprites hovers over the busted remains of a pumpkin. Only six-inches tall, all of them have flower-pink skin and white downy hair that sticks straight up. They wear a mixture of clothing, all made from green and blue leaves that coordinate with their multi-hued butterfly wings.
Magic shivers through the air, and sparkling glitter falls from their wings to bespell the pumpkin waiting below. “Come, humans! Come, eat our Faerie Fruit! Come, dance.”
A pair of humans roll on the ground, kissing and grinding against one another with the frenzied motions of eager teens even though they have to be in their forties.
Another man heads for the Faerie Fruit, and Luke throws out an arm to bar the way. “I wouldn’t, not unless you have a partner—” He nods at the writhing couple. “—or want to dance until you drop.”
“I love to dance,” the human says, voice a bit dreamy, eyes latched onto the sprites.
I stop a woman from darting forward, my hand fisting in the loose fabric of the back of her shirt. She keeps straining toward the bespelled fruit, but I’m so much stronger I barely notice. Then I have to use my other arm to hold back two others.
Glaring at the sprites, I bark, “Why are you here? The last I heard, you were searching the realms of Faerie, looking for elves.”
“Curse you, wolf, for reminding us of our lost elves!” a male sprite cries out in a high voice, the others joining his lament.
“They’re not lost.” I point to several shadow fae walking along the sidewalk on Main Street.
“Those aren’telves.” The sprite darts toward me, a tiny silver sword appearing in his hand. “How dare you say such a thing!”
“The Dark God turned elves into shadow fae centuries ago.” I bare my fangs, which are most impressive in my werewolf form. “I dare because they’re the closest you’re going to get.”
“They’re nothing like elves. They don’t hold parties.They don’t hold balls!” The sword disappears, and the little sprite tugs at his hair in woe. “The one they call king doesn’t even have a proper court!”
A huff of laughter escapes me. “Don’t let Severin hear you say he’s not a proper king.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” a sardonic voice says as the fae in question steps up to my side. “They’ve already said as much to my face.”
I glance over at him. “And you let them live?” I’m only half teasing.
“What can I say?” He gives a nonchalant shrug. “Marriage has mellowed me.” His gaze lifts to where Hannah, Autumn, and the other witches hurry toward us from the direction of the bookshop.
“What’s going on?” Hannah asks.
Severin and I explain about the sprites and the effect Faerie Fruit has on humans.
As they listen, Autumn’s face blanches, her freckles standing out against her unnaturally pale cheeks. “So this Faerie Fruit makes people feel things they don’t want to feel?” She sounds horrified, and her gaze flickers to me and away.
