I smirked, holding it out to her. “A little present.”

Her fingers brushed mine as she took the bag, her touch still warm from being tangled together.

She hesitated for half a second before fishing inside, her hands closing around the sleek box within.

Slowly, she pulled it out, turning it in her hands, her expression shifting from curiosity to confusion. “A... laptop?”

I couldn’t hold back my grin any longer. “I used the money I had set aside for my grand debut into the dating world and spent it on something far more important.”

Jen blinked at me, her lips parting slightly. “But... why?”

“Because I ran into Gavin at the bookstore yesterday. He devoured your manuscript in one sitting—said he couldn’t put it down.

” I leaned in, lowering my voice just enough to make sure she understood the weight of what I was saying.

“And he wants it typed up ASAP so he can personally hand it over to Dean Sinclair.”

The breath stuttered in her throat. Her cheeks flushed, her fingers gripping the edges of the laptop like it might vanish if she let it go.

“Are you serious?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

My smirk softened into something more tender. “Completely.”

Jen sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes glistening with something between disbelief and overwhelming joy. And then, without warning, she launched herself at me.

I barely had time to brace myself before we tumbled backward, her body pressing flush against mine, her arms wrapping tight around my neck. Her lips found mine, urgent and heated, kissing me like I had just handed her the universe itself.

My mate—my wicked, talented, brilliant mate—was well on her way to becoming a bestselling author. And I couldn’t wait to help her craft the filthiest, most deliciously depraved scenes we could possibly dream up.

***

I watched my mate over the top of a novel from her forbidden bookshelf, a deep, molten satisfaction curling through me.

The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow on her, illuminating the way she bit her lower lip between her teeth in pure concentration, her brows knitting as she glanced between her notebook and the computer screen, her fingers moving furiously.

I’d promised Gavin that we’d have a typed copy of her manuscript ready by the end of the week—before we left for Briar Coven.

My stomach twisted at the thought.

I had no doubt they would find her innocent. Hell, with the overwhelming evidence, the recorded testimony, and Lobato’s corroboration of her story, they might not even bother with a trial at all.

But... she had still spent nearly a decade away from them. A decade where her name had been whispered in dark corners, where people she had once considered family might have believed the worst of her.

I exhaled sharply, raking a hand through my hair.

BooDini fluttered weakly down the stairs, its movements sluggish, before settling into the chair beside me with an exaggerated, silent sigh. It raised a tired arm and pointed at the front door before tipping its head back, its little cutout eyes pulling shut as if it had passed out mid-motion.

“That must be the food,” I said to Jen, pushing up to my feet.

After the disaster that had been this morning’s breakfast, I didn’t trust myself to make her another meal without BooDini’s assistance.

And BooDini, who had taken on the brunt of entertaining an overenthusiastic little orc all night, was in no fit state to cook, clean, or even stay awake, let alone answer the door.

I reached for the handle and froze.

The air shifted. A soft, distinctly feminine giggle curled around me, heady with the scent of cinnamon and cloves, drowned beneath something far more feral—ozone and charred wood.

My shadows reacted instantly, pooling at my feet, stretching, sensing the presence outside the door. My body tensed, instincts screaming at me to protect, defend, eliminate.

A warning growl rumbled low in my throat as my brain refused to acknowledge that there was something familiar woven into the aggression that was mirroring my own.

“What’s wrong?” Jen’s voice was soft behind me, but I heard the shift in her heartbeat, felt the way her body tensed, already preparing for danger.

I cast her a glance, my mind racing, my body readying to push her behind me, to tell her to run—

And then, without warning, BooDini waved a lazy hand, and the front door swung open.

A swirling mass of black smoke billowed on the porch.

Instinct took over.

My talons punched into the wood-paneled wall as I snapped into a lunge position, teeth bared, shadows writhing, ready to strike—

“Devlin?” a voice called from the darkness.

My muscles locked tight.

“... Lochran?” I said, my voice wary, my body still thrumming with the need to defend, to destroy.

A dramatic, exaggerated cough echoed from within the swirling shadows—distinctly feminine, distinctly sarcastic. The darkness dissipated instantly, revealing Lochran—grinning from ear to ear—with a beautiful russet-haired witch pinned protectively behind him.

She arched a brow, looking between Lochran and me with the air of someone barely restraining amusement. Then, a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “Devlin...” she mused, eyes sparkling. “You mean the incubus that got run over three times in one day?”

I felt the air shift behind me. A second later, Jen’s warm hand pressed against my back, her presence hesitant as she peered over my shoulder.

The moment Jen stepped into view, the strange witch’s expression transformed. Her eyes widened in recognition. In shock.

Jen went still. I felt her body shrink slightly, as if bracing herself.

The witch took a step forward. “Jen? Is that you, Jen?”

I tensed, my shadows curling tighter around me, the sheer force of my protective instinct surging forward like a hurricane—

Only to find myself met with equal force.

Lochran’s shadows billowed out, meeting mine in a surge of power that sent a heavy pulse through the air.

The witch let out a genuine cough this time, waving a hand in front of her face. “Cut it out, Lochran!”

Lochran’s shadows immediately dropped away, revealing him once more—this time with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry,” he said to me with a shrug, completely unbothered by the near power clash we had just engaged in. “Might be a little protective over my new mate.” His grin shifted—less sheepish, more... cautious—as he added, “And with good reason.”

“That makes two of us,” I said, my voice caught somewhere between understanding and warning.

Lochran’s eyes flicked toward Jen again, his expression morphing into something close to awe. “She finally summoned you?”

I exhaled through my nose, the corners of my lips twitching. “Not exactly.”

Lochran arched a brow, the question clear in his gaze.

I let out a slow breath, reminding myself that Lochran was my best friend. Not a threat.

“You?” I asked.

His grin stretched. “Not quite. My mate”—he tilted his head toward the russet-haired witch—“accidentally summoned me.”

I felt my own lips quirk. “Mine accidentally vacationed with me.”

The witch let out an exasperated sigh, muttering something under her breath before impatiently tapping her foot against the wooden porch.

“C’mon, dudes. You literally saw each other last week. I haven’t seen Jen in almost a decade.”

Before I could react, she ducked under my arm, breezing past my protective stance like it was nothing, and yanked a very startled Jen into a tight embrace.

“Excuse me,” she said, practically squeezing the breath from my mate, “but I have a friend to catch up with.”

***

Lochran twisted the cap off a beer bottle with a sharp tsssskh , the sound crisp in the cool night air.

He handed it to me, the bottle slick with condensation, before cracking open one for himself.

Lifting it to his lips, he took a long, lazy sip, sighing in satisfaction as he settled into his seat beside me.

We sat on the porch, our gazes fixed on the two witches curled up in front of the outdoor fire.

The golden glow of the flames flickered across their faces, their cheeks flushed from warmth and wine.

Wrapped in thick blankets, they leaned into one another, talking excitedly—as if nine years of separation had never happened.

I let out a slow breath, something unspoken pressing in my chest.

Jen’s coven had never believed she was guilty.

The moment she was taken into mortal custody, Ms. Lily Cole—her coven’s formidable, and, according to Lochran, terrifying leader—had led the charge to break her out.

They had tried everything—tracking spells, portal magic, even an outright siege attempt—only to find that their powers were utterly useless within the prison walls with Lobato’s magic protecting her hoard.

Frustrated, they had turned to the sheriff of Headless Hollow—the ogre’s predecessor—who had flatly refused to get involved. As far as he was concerned, mortal law had taken over.

And with Jen’s own refusal to see visitors, the coven’s hands had been tied.

So, they had done the only thing left to do. They’d waited, hoping, praying she would return to them when the doors of that prison finally opened for her.

It was... a strange kind of relief to know she hadn’t been truly abandoned. But it didn’t erase what she had felt—the years of isolation, the grief, the belief that the people who raised her had turned their backs.

I gritted my teeth, forcing down the sharp frustration curling in my gut. It didn’t matter now.

What mattered was that she was going home.

Lochran exhaled beside me, his fingers drumming absently against the neck of his beer bottle before lifting it for a silent cheers.

We clinked our bottles together, drinking in comfortable silence for a long moment, the only sounds between us the crackle of flames, the distant hum of night creatures, and the occasional burst of laughter from our mates.

Finally, Lochran let out a huff of air, shaking his head. “So,” he mused, tilting his beer toward me. “Uncle to a baby orc, huh?”

At just the mention of Theo, my body groaned in phantom exhaustion. “I don’t know how Rowan does it. That child is a walking hurricane of pure, unfiltered energy.”

Lochran chuckled, taking another sip of his beer.

“Yeah? Well, I think dealing with a five-year-old orc might be easier than dealing with the alpha wolf shifter currently wreaking havoc in my house.” He shook his head.

“Love Billy to bits, but if she hasn’t admitted to Lex’s brother that they’re mates by the time we get back, we’re switching covens. ”

I frowned. “Isn’t she your alpha now?”

Lochran’s smirk wavered. He cast me a slow, warning look, his brows raising in mock disapproval. “Technically.”

I grinned, feeling the joke before it even left my lips. “So... what? Do you have to take her for a walk, rub her belly, and tell her she’s a good girl?”

For a second, there was silence.

Then Lochran let out a startled bark of laughter, choking on his drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, shaking his head. “Was that a joke? Devlin—” He pointed his bottle at me, squinting as if I were a stranger. “The Devlin who has been chronically glum for the last nine years?”

I shrugged, but my lips twitched into something softer, something unshakably content. I took another slow sip of beer, casting a glance down at Jen, her entire body lit with happiness as she listened to Lex. “What can I say? My mate brings it out of me.”

Lochran’s smirk faded into something genuine. His violet eyes flicked toward Lex, watching her with unmasked devotion as she spoke animatedly, her curls bouncing as she gestured wildly.

“Yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. “I get that.”

For a long moment, we just watched them.

Our witches.

Lochran took another lazy sip of his drink before muttering, “Well, I guess that just leaves Ambrose and Blaise.”