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Chapter 12

Doug

I tried working for all of three hours today, but my concentration is nil.

“This is insane. Completely fucking insane.”

I pace Horace’s living room like a caged animal, which, let’s face it, I basically am at this point.

My nerves are shot.

My skin still itches, thanks to Mrs. Goyle, Queen of Petty Spells, but I am on the mend.

Thank fuck.

I don’t wanna look like a monster for my date tonight.

Truth is, I feel like a green as grass teenager going on his first date with a girl.

To complicate matters, my mind is stuck on replay of every filthy, addictive sound Dina made last night while I whispered her through what was easily the hottest damn phone call of my life.

So yeah, my new permanent boner is being suffocated in my fucking jeans.

And now?

Now, apparently, the universe thinks I’m ready for more than just a casual encounter no matter how much I protest.

No thanks, Fate. Hard pass.

“I mean, come on,” I continue, running a hand through my hair as I turn on Uncle Uzzi and Horace, who are both lounging like they’re watching their favorite soap opera.

“There’s gotta be a glitch in Date to Mate . Dina and me? No. Nope. Not compatible. She’s sunshine and soft curves and smiles. I’m cursed, cranky, and allergic to hope. Not exactly soulmate material.”

Horace raises an unimpressed brow.

“Doug, you’re literally her match. You saw the app.”

“Algorithms can be wrong!” I insist, pointing dramatically at Uzzi. “Tell him, Uncle Uzzi! Horace, you coded this thing with Bear hands or whatever.”

Uncle Uzzi smirks like a man who’s heard every excuse in the history of single supernatural males and is not buying a word of it.

“My hands are very nimble, thank you. And no, Doug. The app’s fine. You? Not fine.”

Horace grunts, arms folded over his massive chest.

“Yeah, you’re the problem, Wolf. Not the app. Or the lovely Dina.”

“Easy with the pet names,” I growl at the amused older Witch.

“Take it easy, dear boy. Why not tell us the real problem?”

“YOU mean the one where I know I’m going to fuck this up and I’m scared to death to even try?”

“Pussy,” coughs Horace.

“Really? Thanks for the support, Asshole,” I mutter, flopping onto the couch like my bones have given up.

Uncle Uzzi leans forward, steepling his fingers like he’s about to lay down divine wisdom.

“Doug, let me be blunt.”

“Like you’re ever not?”

He ignores me.

“You’ve spent your whole life convincing yourself you don’t deserve more. You think being a Lone Wolf, Packless, mateless, friendless, not to mention miserable, is a safer way to live. Easier.”

“Because it is,” I shoot back. “People leave. They get hurt. Hell, I get hurt. Look at me! I’ve spent the last week as a walking, talking PSA for supernatural disaster insurance.”

Uzzi just snorts.

“Right. Because nothing says emotional health like avoiding happiness, just so you don’t risk losing it. Doug, this is exactly what Mrs. Goyle is trying to teach you with her spell!”

Uncle Uzzi is just being honest with me, but dammit if I don’t resent him for it.

Horace jumps in, voice gruff but surprisingly earnest.

“Look, man, I get it. Before Carina, I figured I’d end up old and bitter, fighting with squirrels in the woods and dying alone.”

“That still might happen,” Uzzi mutters— so helpful .

“I thought we were friends, Uncle Uzzi? Never mind,” Horace says, before turning serious again. “Look, the truth is, mating changed everything. Yeah, it’s scary. Yeah, it’s intense. But you know what’s worse? Waking up every day thinking you don’t deserve someone who makes your life better.”

His words hit harder than I want to admit.

“Love,” Uzzi says softly now, “is the only thing that breaks curses, Doug. Not half-assed attempts. Not scratching an itch. Real love. Effort. Vulnerability. That’s why Goyle’s spell is still clinging to you like supernatural herpes.”

“Classy,” I mutter, rubbing my face.

“You need to try,” Uzzi finishes. “Not sleep with Dina and ghost her when it scares you. Not shove her away the second she gets close. You, my friend, need to really try.”

“Fuck,” I breathe, leaning back and staring at the ceiling like it has answers.

Because they’re right.

I know they’re right.

But knowing doesn’t mean I’m ready.

Dina is just— Dina.

Too sweet.

Too bright.

Too damn good.

And me?

I’m the guy people hire to catch cheaters and lie for a living.

The guy who sleeps in temporary places and never unpacks all his boxes.

The guy whose last serious relationship ended with them calling me emotionally unavailable—and that was putting it nicely.

What the hell do I know about being a mate?

Uzzi claps me on the knee like this is settled.

“You’ve got your date tonight, Wolf. You’re going. You’re smiling. And you’re going to try. Because if you don’t?”

Horace nods grimly.

“The curse gets worse. And no one’s gonna wanna hang out with Cursed Doug when your bad luck starts setting shit on fire.”

“Great,” I grumble, dragging my hands down my face again. “No pressure or anything.”

Uzzi just laughs as he stands and heads for the door.

“Pressure makes diamonds, Doug. Or in your case, maybe a slightly less emotionally constipated Wolf.”

Horace follows him out, leaving me alone in the Bear’s penthouse with my spiraling thoughts and the Date to Mate reminder still blinking on my phone.

Tonight.

I’m seeing Dina tonight.

And while my Wolf is pacing excitedly like yes, ours, mine, mate , I simply can’t stop thinking.

This isn’t forever. Can’t be forever.

But maybe— just maybe —it can be for now.

And for a guy like me?

That’s already terrifying as fuck.