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“Lottie was here?”

His grin grows wider. The bastard knew I already met her and wanted me to admit it. He is way too good at reading people and knowing things he shouldn’t.

“Yup. She picked the pink T-rex mug. I like her. Her colors were vibrant and happy. She’s going to fit in perfectly here.”

Fairies see emotions as colors around an individual, like an aura. Tobias being a rather old fairy who’s been around the world a time or two is very good at reading people. To hear hers is so bright doesn’t surprise me. But I shouldn’t care what color her emotions are; she’s just another visitor in town and nothing more. How she’s feeling should play no part in my day.

And yet here I am, with warm tingles spreading through my gut. I'm pleased to hear she’s in a good mood, and I wonder if our interaction last night had anything to do with it.

Damn it, Hunter, get your shit together. She’s just a girl, nothing special. Get over it. You shouldn’t care whether or not you have anything to do with her happiness.

I put on an air of indifference and pay for my coffee, feigning disinterest. “Oh, is that so?”

“Absolutely. There’s something about her that conveys. . . rightness.”

He says that last word as if he has thought it over thoroughly and settled with rightness. I can see his eyes shifting around me no doubt seeing flashing colors around me displaying my erratic emotions. Since I don’t even know what I’m truly feeling right now, I’m sure my colors are a kaleidoscope, ever-changing from one to another.

My brows pinch together in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“Many things.”

He says nothing more but keeps a tight smile on his lips, which I know means there is more, but he can’t say what. Some fairies, especially the older ones, tend to have special abilities like a sixth sense. Tobias can just tell these things about others but doesn’t always know the why. I’ve asked him to explain in the past, but he says it’s more of a feeling, a knowing that someone is good or bad, lying or telling the truth, or in this case, “right.” He doesn’t know facts or specifics, so I don’t ask for further clarification.

Nodding, I slacken my features to hopefully hide my irritation with his vague words. And maybe calm my emotions so as not to blind him with my flashing colors.

When my cup is set on the pick-up counter, I eagerly scoop it up and gulp down a large swallow. The coffee is hot and strong but laced with a subtle sweetness. I have no clue what it is, but I drink it, and it settles my rattled nerves, at least for a few minutes.

As I stand looking out the window drinking my coffee, I spot the cause of my inner maelstrom casually strolling down the sidewalk, smirking at every person he passes. He doesn’t seem to be doing anything unscrupulous at the moment. But I frown when his sights lock on to someone down the street, andhis stride picks up pace. Craning my head, I try to see around the parked cars to the person who’s grabbed his attention so thoroughly.

My blood boils when I realize who the golden-haired woman practically skipping down the street carrying some sort of case is. Lottie Pickle.

Fucking hell.

I don’t immediately bolt out of the coffee shop and stalk over to them. There’s nothing that says he can’t look at a woman walking down the street. She’s not even a citizen of Snowberry, just a visiting human. She is of no importance to him or me, but I have to hold back my growl when I spot him intercept her path.

Why do I want to protect her as if she is one of my pack?She’s an outsider, a stranger, ahuman. I shouldn’t care either way if he speaks to her. And yet, the last half of my coffee is gone in two gulps, and I walk out the door in their direction before I even know I’m moving. Tobias’ quiet laughter trailing behind me.

Lottie’s face comes into focus the closer I get, and I realize her smile is forced and doesn’t reach her cobalt eyes. Her posture isn’t any better. She’s closed off and leaning away from him. She doesn’t want to speak with him, and he’s pushing himself on her.

She’s dressed in skintight, high-waisted jeans with delicate tears in the thighs, exposing slivers of tanned skin. Skin is also visible across her ribs where her jeans end and her cropped little black sweater begins. Tanned skin taunts me with its golden glow, beseeching me to touch and taste.

As soon as I’m close enough, her gardenia scent washes over me, and unbidden, my cock twitches in my slacks. I ignore the irrational appendage and focus on her other scents. Her emotions. The sweet floral of her scent tainted by bitter irritation.

You would think he was touching her and forcing her physically with the fire that ignites in my gut. I want to sink my fangs into his throat and rip. I clench my jaw to keep from doing just that. He still hasn’t done anything wrong. My hands ball into fists, and I feel the prick of my nails becoming claws in my palms.

Taking a deep breath, I steady myself before I speak. Loud and clear directly behind the elf.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I growl out in an aggressively polite tone.

The elf spins to face me, not having noticed my abrupt approach. A disingenuous smile crossing his thin lips.

“Mr. Mayor, so good to see you again. What are you doing wandering the streets in the middle of the day? Don’t you have other more important mayoral things to be doing?”

He rolls his hand in a flippant gesture of indifference. I really want to ring this male’s neck and rip his head from his body. But I can’t, not yet anyway. If he touches Lottie, however, I may not be able to stop myself with how my inner beast is responding to her.

Shifting in the middle of town would be irresponsible and reckless. That doesn’t seem to matter right now, and I really need to get my shit together. This is fucking ridiculous. I’m acting like an uncontrollable pup eager to wag my tail and roll over for this woman and strike down any male who dares get close to her.

Mustering all the self-control I’ve deliberately acquired over the years, I check my anger and urges. Settling for restrained displeasure in my tone when I speak.