Page 12 of Wishing for a Werewolf (Ferndale Falls Forever #2)

Rune

Autumn sells an entire case of her pumpkin spice latte soap to the gnomes, who all gather around her to ooh and ah over the smell.

I like it as well. The sweet spice of it reminds me of Autumn’s bewitching scent.

But what I like even more is watching her come alive as she explains the details of her process, all the time and attention she puts into making each handmade bar.

Autumn crouches in the center of a circle of gnomes, pointing out the various attributes.

Soap isn’t something I needed to worry about in my wolf form, so I never imagined how intricate the process might be, from choosing scents and colors to adding oils and milks to soften and soothe the skin.

Then there’s the long and patient curing process.

Technology makes so many things about this world quick and impersonal, yet here my fire is, lovingly crafting these soaps by hand.

She’s clearly an artist, and I enjoy getting this glimpse into her true self.

Since gnomes trade in gemstones and gold, Diamond arranges payment via the town bank. One of the bank tellers is a shadow fae, who conjures all the paperwork fae need to fit into this modern human world and helps all the fae business owners transform their monies into human currency.

Each small gnome clutches their bar of soap like a treasure, and one after the other, they tumble over to the patch of rich-brown bared dirt in the back corner of the store. They dive in as easily as swimmers entering water and disappear, leaving only their little moss caps behind.

Autumn sucks in a delighted gasp. “How do they do that?”

“It’s our magic,” Diamond says. “The ground is our home and our friend.”

A clump of moss shivers, and a gnome swirls up into view, coming to a halt with his arms raised and one leg thrust backward so he stands on the toe tips of a single foot.

He holds the pose for a moment, then cartwheels over to one of the display cases and begins polishing the jewelry.

Not a speck of dirt shows on his clothes.

Diamond touches a hand to her six bars of soap, and gives me a quick bow. “Thank you, Rune, for selling your wares to us.”

“You should thank Autumn. She’s the crafter.”

“Under your keen eye, I’m sure.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Autumn sets a hand on my forearm and gives a little shake of her head.

When we step back out onto Main Street, I say, “It feels wrong to take credit for your hard work.”

“It’s okay. I know it’s not you. It’s the wish swap spell.” The fiery witch grins up at me. “Thank you. I made that batch of soap a month ago, never knowing if I’d be able to sell it, so… thank you.”

“It’s good soap, far superior to anything I’ve yet tried. You deserve to be able to sell it.”

“Yeah, well, a good product doesn’t mean much when people don’t know it exists, and I’ve got no real way to make that happen.” She scrunches her freckled nose.

I frown and tap the edge of her phone. “Can’t you make one of those things people are always looking at?”

“A website? I could, but…” She shakes her head, her lips pinching in a way I don’t like.

I set a hand on her shoulder and pull her to a halt, getting her to turn and face me. “Explain.”

“I run the goat farm with my parents, and we make goat-milk soap, but it’s plain soap for a bargain price. They’re scared to try selling specialty soaps online or to open a shop here in town, so…” She shrugs, but it’s clear the topic bothers her.

“Your loyalty to your family does you great credit.” I squeeze her shoulder. “I will help you with this in any way I can.”

Her green eyes fly up to mine. “You don’t have—”

“Yes, I do. You’re going to help me with my niece and nephew, and trust me, you have no idea what you’re in for. They’re exceedingly mischievous.”

“Ha!” She huffs in amusement. “You have met Babybelle, right?”

A loud whinny cuts across my answer, and I whirl around right as a kelpie thunders down the street, scattering people from their path.

Yellow-green scales cover the large equine fae, their mane and tail darker green kelp fronds.

They rear up, hooves lashing at the air, and scream in a deep alto, “Out of my way, pitiful humans!”

“What the effing hell is that?” Autumn yells. “It’s even bigger than a horse, and does it have shark teeth?”

“It does.”

Twin rows of sharp pointed teeth clack as the waterhorse rears again, then races toward the town green.

“It’s a kelpie. They’re… one of the less pleasant types of fae shifters.” That’s putting it mildly.

Mrs. Greely shuffles across the green, cane in one hand while the other holds the leash of a domesticated dog. She seems oblivious of the kelpie, even as her dog starts barking wildly. “Max, be good. It’s just a horse.”

“Do something, Autumn!” a wood nymph yells, pointing at the kelpie and then Mrs. Greely.

More and more people start yelling for Autumn.

She grips my arm and points at the kelpie. “It’s the wish swap! It doesn’t matter that they’re calling my name. Everyone needs you to do something.”

I leap forward, bounding toward the kelpie.

Even though I’m far stronger than any human in my fae form, the waterhorse outmasses me a few times over.

Between one stride and the next, I free my magic.

The change ripples over me as I shift into a werewolf, my tail tucked awkwardly down the leg of my pants. I ignore the discomfort and run harder.

Yet as fast as I am, I will be too late.

Every protective instinct in me flares, enraged at the thought of a fae hurting an elderly human or one of their soft, tame dogs. I put on another burst of speed.

The kelpie’s only a few yards from Mrs. Greely when a herd of tulips races from behind a bush and into the fae’s path.

“What in the Dark God’s name are you?” the kelpie jolts to a sudden halt. “What type of fae are you to defy me so? Speak!”

The tulips wave their long leaves like gesticulating arms, their flower heads tipped backward, as if staring up at the massive equine in defiance.

The distraction provides the extra seconds I need.

I whip off my shirt and twirl it between my hands to make an improvised rope.

Although I’ve never ridden before, I’ve traveled with enough orcs and unicorns to have seen the basics.

In a vaulting leap, I straddle the waterhorse’s back, the rope pulled tight around its neck.

My claws provide extra grip as I twist the shirt tight and hold it in place by clasping a double handful of slippery kelp-frond mane.

The kelpie rears, and my thighs clamp to keep me from sliding from the scaled back. The waterhorse wheels in circles, trying to head deeper into town. “Release me, dog! You have no right to control me.”

“It is you who have no right to terrorize this town.” I snap my jaws and tighten the shirt another few twists, making their breath wheeze.

Through all of this, Mrs. Greely hasn’t moved. In fact, she steps closer. Does she have no sense of self-preservation?

“What a lovely horse. I used to ride when I was younger.” She shifts the leash to the hand holding the cane and starts patting her pockets. “I might have a packet of sugar. Can I give your horse sugar, young man?”

As stunned as I am, the kelpie falls still. “You should tremble before me, human. Tremble, I say!”

“Stop throwing your voice, young man.” She stomps her cane against the ground and narrows her eyes at me. “There’s no need to make such a lovely horse say such things.”

Unable to accept that the kelpie can speak, she’s assuming I’m doing some kind of ventriloquist act.

The elderly lady rips open a tiny white packet, pours a small mound of sugar into her palm, and holds it up in front of the waterhorse.

“Why isn’t she afraid?” the kelpie whines. “It’s no fun if they aren’t afraid. Or fighting. I’ll take a good fight.” The kelpie tenses under me, ready to attack, and I twist the shirt yet again, the rope of coiled cotton making indents in the side of their neck.

Other townspeople run up, coming far too close and setting all of my protective instincts twanging. Fuck. It’s not just the elderly woman. Humans don’t have the survival instincts the goddess gave a gnat.

“Did you see that?” A man yells, pointing at Autumn. “Autumn told him to fix the problem, and he did! She’s the best. We need Autumn to protect our town.”

“Yes!” a woman cries out. “We need Autumn!”

The redheaded witch stands to one side, looking bemused. Her eyes meet mine, and she offers me a sheepish smile and a quick, one-shoulder shrug.

Severin lands behind the small crowd, his shadow wings disappearing into his back. “What’s going on here?”

Several townspeople turn, all speaking at once, all telling the same story of how Autumn saved Mrs. Greely by commanding me to stop the wild horse.

When they’re done, he flicks his fingers and lays a mild compulsion on the townspeople so that they hurry away, going back about their business. Even Mrs. Greely finally moves off, her dog trotting happily by her side, his tongue lolling from his mouth.

“You should go, too.” Severin frowns down at the tulips. “You’re going to get hurt.”

“They helped,” I say. “I wouldn’t have reached the kelpie in time to save Mrs. Greely if they hadn’t intervened.”

“What are they?” the kelpie snarls. “What manner of creature dares to defy me?”

“They’re plants.” Severin’s voice sounds soft as he crouches and runs his fingers over their flower heads, magic tingling in the air. Then he stands, his tone and expression hardening. “They don’t need to be any more special than that.”

The kelpie rears, trying to unseat me, but I’m far too strong for that. My thighs clench as I twist the cloth rope a turn tighter, and the waterhorse gurgles, the gills on their neck flaring outward in an instinctive attempt to breathe.

“You will visit Ferndale Falls under a guest oath, promising to do no harm,” Severin says. “Or you will not visit here at all.”

“Like fuck, I will,” the kelpie spits. “You’re not my king.”

“And yet, I am still a king of Faerie.” Severin’s mouth twists in a sardonic smirk as he smacks a hand to their withers. Magic pulses outward, and his voice resounds across the green. “You are not welcome here.”

The waterhorse wheels around, aiming north toward the waterfall and the door to Faerie. They start to gallop, and I release my hold to spring from their back right as they approach the edge of the green.

Landing on my feet, I let my ruined shirt dangle as I lope back toward Autumn and Severin, my claws scraping against the insides of my boots.

When I come to a halt in front of them, Autumn touches my forearm. “Are you okay?”

With a grunt, I release my magic, forcing the shift. My eyesight and hearing lose acuity as I change from werewolf to fae. Yet the touch on my forearm… that touch goes from a faint pressure felt through fur to the intoxicating feel of skin on skin.

I suck in a shocked breath as my nerves dance. By the goddess, does all touch feel like this? Up until now, I thought of bare skin as inferior, as lacking the protection of a good coat of fur.

But now, a million possibilities fill my mind, all featuring the fiery witch and her soft little hands.

“If one kelpie has found the door to Earth, you can be sure more will follow,” Severin says, snapping my attention back to the current situation. “Autumn, how do you think we should handle it?”

“Hey, now. You don’t really mean me.” She holds up her hands. “That’s the wish swap spell affecting you. You need to ask Rune.”

The shadow fae gives his head a quick shake. “You’re right. I don’t know how long I’ll remember. You’ll probably have to keep reminding me.”

“Can you do another spell like you just did?” I ask. “Banish all kelpies from Earth?”

“No.” He shakes his head, scowling. “I could only banish that one because they’d already threatened to harm someone under my care. I can’t do a banishment until after the fact.”

“Which is kind of too late,” Autumn mutters. “Without Rune here to help, people would definitely have gotten hurt.”

Severin nods, then his eyes glaze for a second. “Autumn, we can’t have that happen again. I want to hire you to protect the town.”

“Me? Don’t you mean Rune?”

“No.” He frowns. “Why would I mean Rune when you’re clearly the person for the job?”

She rolls her eyes with a sigh and shoots me a questioning look.

I grip her arm and walk us several yards away. “There’s no point in fighting against the wish swap spell at this time. Even if we break through its hold on him, it will be temporary, as we just saw.”

“So we roll with it.”

I nod. “I’m the face of your soap business, and you are the face of my security firm. We’ll sort it all out once we break the spell.”

“You got yourself a deal.” We shake hands, and she walks back over to Severin. “I accept, as long as you hire me and my partner.” Autumn hooks a thumb toward me.

“Done,” the king says.

As easy as that, Wild Wolf Security is born.