Page 6 of Witchbane

But it wasn’t. It was Liam’s house. My house was parked out back. I turned toward the back door and it opened. Carl, Liam’s second-in-command, stood there, filling the doorway with his bulk and perpetual pissed-off gaze. I blinked at him, probably looking as owl-eyed as Korissa had.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“Insane,” I told him, and made my way to a utensil drawer to find the stuff to cut up the chicken. “Underhill is looking pretty good right now.”

“Giant monsters and all?” Carl wanted to know.

“You haven’t been to the living room,” I said, and focused on the meal. “Nothing scarier than what’s out there.”

“And where does running get you?” Carl said.

“Brought me here.”

“And you plan to keep going?”

No. Running wasn’t an option anymore. Not with Liam grounded here with his pack. That didn’t mean the instinct vanished. Running was easy. And I couldn’t be a supermodel like his ex-wife.

But I could make a damn good meal. The second oven dinged, and I realized that Liam had made fresh bread to go with the meal. The perks of living with a baker. It smelled divine, and very soothing.

Toby freed four loaves from the oven, placing them on a cooling rack. “Do you want butter, lavender butter, or the honey we got from the pack?” He was getting much better at holding his human form, focusing on specific things, and being more than his wolf. He had even started working at the tea shop. He didn’t have the patience for the bakery and liked the scent of tea surrounding him as a reminder of me. Which I pointed out was a bit creepy, but he’d stared at me with eyes on the verge of wolf, and I’d let it go.

“Honey,” I told him. The chicken had a bit of a honey glaze. Food I could focus on. Anything was better than the raised voices in the other room. For the first time since moving into Liam’s life and home, I realized I was fucking thrilled he didn’t have one of those giant open concept homes. If the double door to the kitchen was propped wide, it would feel more open, and the dining room and kitchen area were all one, but they were separated from the downstairs living space by a firm wall. Which meant I didn’t have to join the fray of angry women in the other room. I felt a little bad about leaving Liam to deal with them.

Carl took the tongs and knife from me, “I’ll cut up the chicken. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m not,” I protested.

“You are,” Toby added, popping the first loaf of bread out on the cutting board.

“My mother is here,” I told him. “And Liam’s ex-wife.”

“Ah yeah, I got that part.”

“Hot damn,” Carl laughed. “Sounds like we’re about to open a circus.”

“Fuck you,” I said, wanting to punch him in the face as usual. Carl had that effect on me.

“And here you stand, leaving your mate to the proverbial dragons.”

“He’s a werewolf,” I defended my cowardice. “An alpha. He’ll be fine.” But the raised voices coming from the other room didn’t sound fine. And Liam’s tone was too low to actually catch the words.

Korissa appeared in the doorway, eyes still huge.

I looked at her. “What the fuck?” I didn’t even try to apologize for swearing in her presence. She was a teenager and heard more of it in movies than she ever would from me.

“I tried to stop her,” Korissa said. “Tried everything, even promising to stay for the holidays. But she wouldn’t relent.” She looked at me. “Your mom is something…”

“Oh, that’s an understatement,” I muttered.

“I thought the Volkov was bad,” Korissa whispered.

“Apadid the best he could.”

“For a psychopath,” Toby added.

Korissa’s head bobbed in agreement. I glared at them both.

“I turned out okay.”