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I used a full-length antique mirror in my too-vintage bedroom to check out the short black dress I’d summoned from the closet of my actual house. It was tempting to summon another dress I liked much better, but that would mean even more of my clothes would end up in my prison’s closet. Doing that felt too much like giving in to The Baba Yaga of My Nightmare’s—aka Carol’s—plotting to keep me here. Luckily, the dress I summoned looked good enough for my purposes, especially given the short time I intended to be wearing the dress versus the time I planned to be out of it.

It pleased me to see that the physical work of cleaning up this old house had carved a few pounds from my middle and transformed it into sleek muscle that looked much nicer beneath the silky, snug fabric. I twirled a bit to swing the skirt around my thighs. Given the amplitude of my glutes, a loose skirt was necessary to cover my hips. It was a physical fact for me that I’d come to terms with long ago. I knew the skirt’s slight swing with my every moment would inspire all the right urges in Farley. I just hoped my appearance was good enough to keep him from being distracted by my dinner preparations—or any random world-domination plan that might decide to run through his brilliant mind.

He'd never seen me like this, and I was counting on his surprise to work in my favor. My daily attire consisted of paint-stained or potion-stained clothes, stiff with dried pigments, a testament to my messy craft. Why dress better in this place when all I did was sand furniture and dig in the dirt outside? Jezel and this Goddess-forsaken inn that Carol tricked me into renovating magically dressed me in the ugliest clothes in the world whenever a guest arrived, anyway. Thank the Goddess, no guests were coming tonight. That innkeeper outfit was a romance killer.

The horrific uniform Jezel insisted I wear around guests was only one of many reasons I couldn’t see myself doing this for a living. Being forced to be an ugly innkeeper was as bad as having to be incarcerated in this place. Sure, the magic of the inn was amazing, and the guests were interesting. Even the fairy princess who’d slept with my ex turned out to be a fascinating person and not nearly as trampy as she seemed at first.

I shook my head to clear it of thoughts of Peace and the friends of hers that I’d promised to take as guests. I had better things to think about—like the look on Farley’s face when he saw me in this dress.

For our third date, I’d summoned a leg-flattering black dress that now smelled of a scent I designed for myself. Wearing anything feminine with buttons or fasteners was out of the question for our evening. This dress would swoosh off when Farley pulled it over my head. No way would I slow the bear down with clothing obstacles once his genius brain realized he’d fulfilled the parameters of his father’s three-date rule.

The bear shifter of my dreams was also the best man I had ever met, and I couldn’t wait to take our relationship to the next level. If I’d been looking for something permanent, Farley would be an excellent choice.

But I wasn’t searching—nor did I want a husband—well, not anymore. I’d come to that conclusion after Ethan’s betrayal. Saying yes to his proposal had been a stalling tactic to buy myself time to plan a way to end things between us. I really hadn’t been joking when I told Peace that her sleeping with Ethan had done me a huge favor, even though I could never sleep in my grandmother’s bed again. It had taken me long to realize that it would have been worse to have been physically betrayed by a husband rather than just a boyfriend.

After Ethan, I decided that marriage and mating were vastly overrated. Even Carol’s love life was disappointing, and she could spell men into desiring her. Not that I thought she did that, but she used to date more than I did. Powerful women rarely find men willing to take them, magical warts and all.

Love between Farley and me wasn’t likely because I didn’t feel that level of personal commitment was necessary at this point in my life. That said, I had no issue with enjoying a casual relationship with him while I was stuck here. The bear shifter was handsome, attracted to me, and sexy. He wanted to be with me. Why wouldn’t I want to be with him?

Sighing, I looked down at my bare feet. I was tall, but Farley was a walking skyscraper. Should I wear heels to boost my confidence at least a bit? No, heels wouldn’t work. I dismissed that thought nearly as fast as it entered my brain. Farley loved going for walks after dinner. Short-heeled booties would be a much better option. It would make my outfit look trendier and make me appear younger.

I stared at my feet and snapped my fingers. When the booties appeared on them, I looked in the mirror once again. The booties were both cute and comfortable. They gave me a couple more inches, boosting my ego more than my height. Even nine-inch stripper shoes couldn’t make me as tall as Farley. Two-inch bootie heels were the best I could do.

A wave of potent magic, like a physical force, washed over me, triggering a surge of panic. The sudden, jarring chime of the doorbell sent a jolt through me, and I swore, clutching my short black dress. The silky black fabric slipped through my fingers like sand, replaced by the scratchy feel of the pilgrim-witch clothes.

“No, no, no... damn it, Jezel! I have plans tonight!”

I raised my fist to shake it at the ceiling and saw a new wand clenched in it. Colors flowed through the wand, and each change in hue brought a different zing of power. I held it out for a closer inspection until the doorbell rang again. Sadly, the visitor was not Farley arriving early.

Grumbling under my breath, I made my way through the kitchen and to the front door with my stupid, heavy skirts brushing against the floor. The pointy black hat perched on my head as if someone had glued it into place.

Thoroughly irritated by the interruption to my date prep ritual, I yanked open the inn door and gawked at the stack of hay bales that almost touched the porch roof. A large, polished leather saddle rested on top of the pile, and a hayfork leaned against the side.

But no person was in sight.

I stared at the hay in shock. “Good Goddess, what fresh hell is this?”

A plump, fluffy rabbit wearing mirrored sunglasses jumped onto each bale until he was eye level and cleared his throat.

“Good day, my lady. Are you the innkeeper of this fine establishment?”

My mouth fell open as I stared. The rabbit whipped off his sunglasses, stared hard at my clothes, and then muttered something about rabbit turds before returning his sunglasses to his face.

I tilted my head to look at him because I’d never seen an irritated bunny before. My hat tilted too, and I found myself grabbing at it, despite its gravity-defying abilities. I must have looked like a drunk, but more witchy Mary Poppins, because he made strange rabbit noises. I knew I was being rude by staring, but it was impossible to pay proper attention to a talking rabbit that resembled a child’s toy.

How was I supposed to take him seriously? Watching his whiskers twitch as he spoke, like a human, was fascinating. His adorable little bunny paws on his glasses displayed more dexterity than I ever imagined a rabbit could possess, even a magical one.

“We were told you would be expecting us,” the rabbit said formally.

Never in a million years would I have expected a sunglasses-wearing rabbit and a pile of hay bales to be at the inn’s front door. He was alone, and there was no we. All I saw was him sitting on the hay. Was he talking about him and the rabbit mother of his twenty-five rabbit children?

Still gawking at the talking rabbit and the bales of hay, I closed my mouth and shook my head. “I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not tonight. I made personal plans... a date... and it’s been a while since I had one. Being a virile male bunny, I’m sure you understand how necessary meeting one’s physical needs can be and how they can take precedence over everything else now and again.”

Dropping the nice bunny approach, the rabbit morphed into Sir Pompous Bunny as I watched. He sniffed haughtily as he studied my clothes. “Dressed as you are, I find the idea of you getting any romantic action tonight very difficult to believe.”

Usually, I would be insulted at such a statement, but the rabbit was right about these horrible clothes being a bone killer. Instead of glaring at him, I glared at the wand in my hand. “See? Are you hearing this, Jezel? I told you these clothes were hideous. Even a rabbit thinks so.”