Page 4

Harry pinched the bridge of her nose so hard her eyes teared. Three hours, eight on holds, and five misconnections later and she was no closer to getting an appointment with Patricia Atwood than when she started. They’d now transferred her to someone named Sunny, and Harry quickly learned it wasn’t a name given to her for possessing a sunny disposition.

“Look”—Harry took the kind of deep, cleansing breath that she always directed at Grace when she went sparks up—“you don’t understand the full scope of the situation. We must see Alpha Atwood.”

“Oh, you must ? Well, in that case, I’ll put you down for tomorrow.”

The fake sugary voice grated on Harry’s last nerve. “Now you’re not even disguising your disdain.”

“Because I’ve told you numerous times that the Alpha is simply too busy for drop-ins.”

“Which is why I’m trying to make an appointment.”

“Yeah. At the last minute… for this dire situation. The Alpha has appointments filled up—quite literally—for the next few months. And you think you’ll get one this afternoon simply because you feel you need it?”

Pacing her room, Harry smashed her phone harder to her ear. It was a damn good thing she didn’t possess Grace’s inner shifter because she probably would’ve already sent something up in flames by now or at the very least created a smoke show.

Harry loathed everything to do with nepotism, but she’d stoop to even lower for Grace. “Actually, Sunny, yes, I do. Alpha Atwood and I go way back and I’m sure if you mention my name, the Alpha will have you find a spot for me this afternoon. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Sunny snorted. “I’m a shifter, not a witch. I can’t magic an opening, and at this point in time, I don’t see that happening until tutu-wearing piglets take to the sky. Hold, please.”

Murmured voices volleyed back and forth from the other end of the line, one a muffled Sunny’s and one distinctly lower and more rumbly. The schedule keeper did not sound happy, her tone short and clipped, voice rising to unsafe decibel levels.

The phone shifted before Sunny came back on the line, her voice strained. “I’ll squeeze you in today at one thirty. Not one thirty and thirty seconds or one thirty-one. One thirty. Arrive late and you’re a witch without luck.”

Harry air punched in victory, careful to keep her voice the same fake polite as the woman on the other end of the line. “I completely understand. Thank you so much for your understanding and for doing everything you could to make this happen, Sunny.”

Harry tossed her cell on the bed and let out a relieved sigh. Watch out, airline pilots, because there are dapperly dressed Babes flying crop dusters. Maybe she should buy a lottery ticket or something.

The good feelings quickly soured, as did the minuscule breakfast she’d choked down a few hours ago.

She’d gotten that appointment with Patty… yay !

That appointment was at the pack ranch… less yay.

Stepping foot on pack land increased her chances of a run-in of the Jaxon Atwood variety… the furthest from yay as one could get. Especially since every time she thought about their last unexpected collision, she felt seconds away from hurling.

They’d been nearly a fraction of a football field apart and yet walking headfirst into a brick wall would have left her less disoriented. Twelve hours after the encounter and her heart still skipped a beat whenever she replayed the scene in her head.

Which meant her heart basically danced an entire Broadway show all throughout the night until she finally called sleep a lost cause and got ready for the day.

“But that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Harry turned to the antique dressing mirror and stared at her nauseated reflection. “You got this, Harlow Pierce. You’re gonna slide into your big witch panties, stuff your boobs into your armored bra, and you’re gonna get shit done, Pierce-witch style.”

Sealing the deal with a final nod, she turned to grab her I-mean-business dress laid out on the comforter, but where she’d put her lucky undergarments, there was no favorite bra.

She glanced beneath the polka-dot sundress and searched under the bed, but the bra was nowhere to be found. “Backup armored bra it is.”

She turned toward the dresser when a breeze rustled the gauzy curtain. “I didn’t open that window.…”

A shadow shifted as a female gnome jumped onto the windowsill, Harry’s favorite gravity-defying bra clenched in her stone-gray hands.

“Son of a—” Harry leaped for the hellion, but with even quicker reflexes, it hurtled itself through the open window and skied down the sloped tin roof with a happy-making squeal. “One cup could fit your entire body, so good luck getting it to stay up!”

Sanjay Sharma, one of Nora’s closest neighbors, chose that moment to walk past with his little Yorkie. With an internal groan, Harry waved and immediately closed the window.

She refused to let this dampen her positive can-do attitude, but it also didn’t stop her from grumbling as she finished getting ready, heading downstairs right as Nora and Grace stepped inside from the back porch.

Grace’s smile flattened the second she laid eyes on her. “Is that your bra I saw on the garden statue outside?”

Harry sighed. “Because of course they used it to decorate the fountain. Nora, we really need to do something about those gnomes.”

Her great-aunt chuckled. “Oh, I know. Jax has been on me about that for a while, but you have to admit that the little stony buggers keep things lively around here.”

“Yeah, it’s a regular ole house party,” Harry mumbled, before shooting an expectant look to Grace. “Achievement unlocked. We got the appointment with Alpha Atwood, so we should head out. I don’t want to be late and give them a reason to want to reschedule.”

It was the teen’s turn to huff. “Can’t have that.”

Nora reached out, giving Harry’s hand a squeeze before she shuffled to her purse and pulled out her car keys. “Take Hilda. Driving that station wagon despite its… experience… is a high-risk life choice.”

“Your little hatchback? What if you need to go somewhere?” Harry took the keys.

“Honey, I have a phone and I can bring up the Ryde app like anyone else.”

Grace snorted. “Everyone except Harry.”

“I can operate the app,” she defended herself half-heartedly. “I’d just prefer to put my life in my own hands when I get behind the wheel of a car. Not someone with an unknown track record seconds from being dropped by their insurance carrier.”

“Is that why I don’t have my driver’s license? Because you don’t trust me behind the wheel of a car?”

Yes. Maybe. “No, you don’t have your driver’s license because in New York, it wasn’t necessary. Everything is a train or bus or Ryde app away.”

“And now everything is at least a thirty-minute drive.”

She had her there. “We’ll talk about lessons.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Just as soon as I find someone with nerves of steel willing to teach you.”

Grace rolled her eyes but didn’t argue as she headed out to Nora’s yellow hatchback, Harry following. Five minutes later, she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel column and fought the desire to make a U-turn.

Hightailing it back to Pierce House after her fifteen-yard run-in with Jax hadn’t been her finest moment. Definitely not the bravest. With Fates being Fates, a face-to-face encounter was inevitable, but she’d preferred to be mentally and physically ready for it instead of whatever the hell happened last night.

If they ran into Jax a second time, she’d be prepared. Maybe even say hello. Definitely no running away.

Again.

But once she survived the encounter, all bets were off, and she’d commandeer the nearest dark corner or hall closet for a cathartic hyperventilation session. Because holy hexes in a baked bread basket… thirteen years had sure done Jax Atwood good. She’d been an embarrassing few seconds away from drooling on her shoes.

But she’d been there, done that—and him—and refused to take a return trip to Heartbreak Land. Grace constantly harped on her seesaw decision-making. Dinner. Outfits. Movies. Harry blamed the back-and-forth on the structured rigidity of her—former—day job.

But one thing on which she stood firm?

Harry didn’t trespass on someone else’s Fated Mate.

Jax Atwood was never meant to be hers. Her future was still out there; and whether it included a Fated or not, she sure as hell knew it included Grace and that’s what mattered right now.

Sitting in the passenger seat, the teen in question slid her a coy smirk. “So, Sir Stare-a-Lot from last night is Shifter Boy, huh? The one you snuck out your window to meet?”

Harry tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Grace’s lips twitched knowingly. “Sure you don’t. That’s why you’re simultaneously going pale and red in the face. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“It’s the rosacea. It doesn’t mean anything except that it’s time to change my skin-care regimen. It sure as hell doesn’t mean that Jax is Shifter Boy.” She winced the second she said his name, and Grace, being the astute teenager she was, quickly caught on.

“Jax, huh?” Grinning, she dramatically tapped her finger to her lips. “Now why does that name sound familiar? Could it be that Jax and the ‘Jaxon’ I heard you and Mom talk about are one and the same? Which would most definitely make him the ex, and if he’s the ex, I assume that means he’s Shifter Boy. Unless you snuck out of Nora’s to meet up with multiple different guys. If that’s the case, I applaud your former horny teenage self.”

“I preferred it when you were a toddler and didn’t hear anything except ice cream and playground .” Harry sighed. “And, yes, Jax is Jaxon, and the ex… and Shifter Boy.”

Grace grinned. “Thought so. He seemed to have that broody shifter thing down pat. So you and him were a thing?”

“A long , long time ago. Practically before your lifetime.” She shifted in her seat, the already small car shrinking a few more sizes. She cranked the AC, but the sweat dotting her forehead didn’t go away.

“So what happened?” Grace drilled further. “Without telling me disgusting details that will traumatize me for life.”

“What makes you think something happened?”

“Exes don’t become exes unless something happens.”

“Why are you suddenly the one with all the questions?”

“Why are you evading?” Grace folded her arms over her chest. “People evade when they’re dancing around the truth—or so you taught me.”

Harry shot her a frustrated glance. “My words of wisdom are meant to be weapons against other people. Not against me.” At the teen’s pointed look, she sighed. “Fine. Yes. When we were barely older than you, Jax and I had a… thing. But we grew up and realized we were meant for other people.”

Technically, Jax found out he was meant for someone else.

“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Way more perceptive than she should be for someone so young, Grace asked, “Will he be at this meeting since he’s a shifter?”

Goddess, she hoped not. “You don’t need to buy it. Just rent it, and then accept that’s all the information you’re getting. As for the meeting, while I don’t expect him to be involved, we may see him at the ranch. Alpha Atwood is his mother.”

The sixteen-year-old’s eyes widened. “Seriously? A female alpha? That’s pretty badass.”

“Patricia Atwood is the definition of badass , which is why you need to be on your best behavior. Don’t—”

“Piss off the people who could maybe help me?”

“Exactly. Patty has always been fair and honest, but she doesn’t tolerate any crap. So press pause on the sarcasm.”

“That’s like asking me not to breathe.”

“Gracie…”

“Fine,” she agreed with a hefty sigh. “But you need to chill out because your twitches are making me twitchy and we both know what happens when my twitches get twitching. I’m pretty sure the alpha lady wouldn’t appreciate me setting her house on fire.”

“No twitches,” Harry agreed, and that was like her not breathing. Her entire body buzzed, the sensation strengthening as they approached pack lands.

Spanning several hundred miles, the Rocky Mountain pack’s territory was the largest in the country with multiple outposts and compounds, the most centrally located—the one outside of Fates Haven—hosting the Alpha House.

Once upon a time, she’d spent almost as much time there as she did at Pierce House. Bonfires. Pack runs. A small hot spring—thoroughly surrounded by trees and rocky formations and about a three-mile hike up the mountain—once served as her and Jax’s getaway from prying eyes… and clothes.

Harry kicked up the AC another notch as she rolled Nora’s little yellow car up to the ranch’s outside gate. A young guy, close to Grace’s age, stepped out from the guard shack and dipped his head to look through the open window.

“You’re not Nora Pierce, but you’re driving Ms. Pierce’s car.” He leaned an arm casually against the hatchback’s hood, his smile broadening as his attention shifted from Harry to Grace. “And you’re not Nora either.”

Unimpressed, Harry leaned forward to cut off his ogle fest. “Pretty astute of you. Harry Pierce. Harlow. To see Alpha Atwood. We have an appointment.”

“Someone mentioned you’d be stopping by.” He glanced back to Grace. “But we keep a thorough detailing of who comes and goes off the compound, so I’ll need both your names to enter into the log.”

“Harlow Pierce and Grace Taylor. We’re kinda on a time crunch, so…” Harry fought the urge to growl.

“Sure. Of course. You two have a good visit. Maybe I’ll see you around.” He flashed a smile toward the passenger seat and buzzed open the gate before ushering them forward.

Grace glanced at the kid as they passed, something akin to interest shining in her eyes.

Thank goddess Aunt Nora cut down that damn tree.

They bounced over the dirt and gravel lane, passing the large fields dotted with both steers and horses. Grace soaked it all in as they approached the Alpha House, an oversized two-story log and stone building that served as both the pack meeting house and offices, as well as Patty Atwood’s family home.

Jax’s family home.

People littered the grounds of the compound, some sending curious looks their way as she pulled to a stop near the house. She no sooner stepped out from the car when she heard her name called.

A tall, broad-shouldered figure jogged over, a baseball hat obscuring his face until he got within a few feet.

An automatic smile slid over her face as she forgot all about her time constraint. “Maddox.”

“Get your ass over here, girl.” Mad picked her up in a bone-crushing hug and spun her until she cried for mercy. “Fuck, it’s good to see you. Who would’ve thought that the Fates Haven rumor mill was right for the first time in forever?”

“It’s good to see you, too, Mads… and all your tattoos.” Harry grinned as he put her back on her feet and allowed her to get another look at her old friend.

The baby face he’d possessed at eighteen had transformed to angled cheekbones and a strong, square jaw that was blanketed in a well-trimmed beard. His black T-shirt hugged a broad, well-built chest and emphasized the colorful tattoos decorating the entire lengths of both arms. He looked a far cry from the young boy she’d once called friend, and yet that beaming smile was exactly the same.

“Are you still working here at the ranch?” Harry felt guilty that she didn’t already know. That was something a friend should know about another.

“Fuck no. My shit-shoveling days are over. I board my horse here and came by for a quick ride. Lenny and I opened our own tattoo studio in town. Once Upon a Tattoo. You should swing by and check it out… get a little ink and a Reading.”

“She’s still doing them?” Thinking of one of her best friends—and Mad’s sister—Lennox, she smiled.

He chuckled. “Even earned herself a nickname: Fortune-Telling Tattooist. She hates it, but it’s great and it brings in the business. Who wouldn’t want their fortune told via their own personal tattoo? Well, except for Bryce at the bowling alley. He’s still pissed his fortune—and tattoo—involved a rabid opossum. But seriously, Lenny will be thrilled to see you.”

“Really?” Harry asked warily.

“Sure. After she gets done yelling at you. And she’s been a little moody lately with her seer abilities on the fritz so there’s always the possibility of a thrown punch, but overall? Thrilled.”

He winked, letting her know he joked, but she wasn’t so sure that wasn’t exactly what would happen. Lennox, Elodie, and she had been quite the trio growing up, keeping all the adults in town on their toes. The Trouble Trio. The epitome of what happened when a witch, a seer, and an angel with anger management issues walked into a room.

And then she’d turned the trio into a duo when she left.

Harry conjured a smile she hoped didn’t showcase her nerves. “I’ll make sure to stop by the shop once things have settled a bit.”

As if realizing she wasn’t standing there alone, Maddox’s gaze strayed to an atypically quiet Grace. “And who do we have here?”

“This is Grace. Grace, this is Maddox King. One of my dearest and oldest friends.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Grace. Harry and I used to skinny-dip together.”

Harry snortled. “We were like two years old, and only because those fancy swim diapers were hard to come by back then.”

“Still. It happened.” He shrugged, grinning, as about a hundred questions shone through his eyes as his gaze bounced between Grace and her.

Noting her friend’s hands loosely stuffed into his jeans pockets and his casual ease, Harry quickly put two and two together. “You knew we were coming here today, didn’t you? Were you the grumbly voice on the other end of the phone, talking to Sunny?”

He smirked unapologetically. “I may have been… hanging out… with the Alpha’s secretary when your appointment request came in.”

“You’re the reason I finally got the appointment.” She pulled him into a quick, hard hug. “Thank you, Mads. Thank you so much.”

“No thanks necessary.” He gave her another squeeze before allowing her to pull away. “I figured you wouldn’t have requested one if it weren’t important.”

“It is. There’s no way we could’ve waited months to get an audience. Alpha Atwood would be seeing us even if I had to tie myself to the front guard shack. I mean, it worked once, right?” She smiled wanly, remembering that they’d done something similar when the town council threatened to paint Starlight Gazebo some ghastly shade of neon green.

Her joke didn’t quite land with Maddox, his smile melting away. “Is everything okay? Who do I have to bury?”

“No body to bury, and hopefully things will be on the road to okay once we speak to Patty. Luck is on our side so far, right? She’s actually here in Fates Haven and not visiting one of the other compounds.”

“Patty.” Maddox blinked twice, his gaze hesitant to meet her eyes as he scratched the scruff on his jaw. “Yeah. She… uh… does get bitten by the travel bug quite a lot these days. Let’s get you two up to the main house.”

“I don’t want to keep you from something you need to be doing. I know the way.”

He waved it off. “Nowhere I’d rather be than right here. Plus, Sunny isn’t always the warmest ray of sunshine and I need to make sure my skinny-dipping partner gets treated right.”

“Why do you hang out with someone when they’re an asshole a majority of the time?” Grace asked in her direct way.

Maddox stared at the teenager with panicked eyes before shooting a worried look to Harry. “What do I do here? Do I lie? Ignore? Divert? Cue a fella in here.”

She chuckled. “If you figure out the best tactic, let me know.”

“It’s… uh.” Mad’s shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Adult reasons.”

Grace wisely remained silent.

“So… let’s get you to that meeting.”

More than a few people stared as the three of them walked through the massive kitchen and toward the back end of the house that held the pack office. All seemed familiar—and quiet—until they reached the small waiting room. Behind the Alpha’s closed office door, loud voices volleyed back and forth, each rising by the second until one sounded like a near growl.

One that was Jaxon’s.

“You’re back for more already?” A gorgeous blonde gave Maddox a sultry smile as she stepped around a desk. “I’m not sure I can swing another break so soon after the other.”

Behind Harry, Grace faux gagged, the sound shifting the woman’s attention their way. “Who are you?”

“Sunny, these lovely ladies are Alpha Atwood’s one thirty appointment,” Maddox addressed the blonde. “Right on time.”

“I’ve been directed to cancel all meetings for the rest of the day.” Scowling, she sent a disgusted look toward Harry’s simple sundress. “Sorry. You’ll have to reschedule it for another time. We might be able to squeeze you in in about a month or so.”

Harry scoffed, sensing how unsorry Sunny actually was. “That’s not happening. My appointment was for today, and we’ll be meeting the Alpha today.”

“I’m not sure who you think you are to make such demands, but Alpha Atwood will see you when Alpha Atwood can see you, and that’s in a month. Maybe two.”

A low growl rumbled through the room, and the other woman’s eyes widened as they snapped to Grace.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Grace warned. Her hands, clenched at her sides, vibrated.

“Oh, shit.” Harry grabbed the teen’s shoulders and turned her attention away from the rude secretary and toward herself. “Hey. No. Don’t listen to her. It’s okay.”

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that.” Grace’s voice lowered, taking on a slightly husky rasp. “It doesn’t like her attitude… or her smell. She… stinks.”

“Excuse the hell out of me,” Sunny interjected, her voice a high-pitched squawk. “I bathe regularly, and the perfume I use costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Will you shut the hell up?” Harry snapped. “Can you see I’m trying to prevent her from lighting your chemically bleached hair on fire?”

The woman snapped her mouth shut and folded her arms over her chest.

“Gracie. Please.” Cupping the teen’s face, Harry searched the now purely golden depths of her eyes for some sign of the sarcastic but good-hearted girl she knew to be in there. “Neither she, nor her opinions, matter. Keep it together. Breathe.”

“Fuck breathing,” Jaxon’s deep voice contradicted. “That won’t do shit. At least not on its own.”

He stood in the open doorway, his broad shoulders taking up the entire space. Last night’s fifty-yard stare down had absolutely nothing on this six-foot-long jump. Jax’s dark eyes pinned Harry to the spot, making it difficult for her to breathe.

Heat crept up her cheeks, dotting a new sweat line across her forehead the longer his gaze held hers. It wasn’t until someone’s shocked gasp ripped her attention away that she realized the reason for the sudden increase in temperature were Grace’s flame-engulfed hands.

“Double shit.”