CASSIE

One second, I was rooted to the spot and seeing my short life flash before my eyes. In the next, I was staggering back behind the counter in fear. My heart was beating so loud that probably all of the werewolves in the tri-county area could hear it.

The large man moved determinedly towards me, closing the distance between us in two strides. His heavy boots caused the room to shake…or was it just my nerves that made it seem that way?

The closer the man got to me, the larger he seemed, until it felt like Cookieville wouldn’t be able to hold all of him inside. When he finally stopped in front of me, I had to crane my neck up to see his face. I gasped despite myself.

The man’s face was unshaven and covered with what looked like a permanent five o’clock shadow. He had a scar on his left brow, one just beneath his right eye and another one that ran down the length of his left cheek.

Traces of fresh blood glistened on his cheeks and his chin like had just come from a kill and decided to stop on by the local bakery and witch shop. His motorcycle jacket was also covered in fresh blood and torn like whatever he had killed hadn’t gone out without a fight.

Under other, less menacing and potentially life-ending, circumstances, I would have found the giant stranger attractive. No. He was more than that. He wasn’t some pretty boy like my cheating bastard ex. The larger-than-life man standing in front of me was scary and hot.

And he was also a werewolf.

He glared at me, clearly not happy to find me standing there instead of Aunt Maggie. I had the feeling that whatever I said would just piss him off further.

“Where is Maggie?” he asked.

My hands trembled as I forced myself to look up from his broad chest and shoulders and into his eyes that seemed to look right through me. They were impossibly dark and so damn alluring that I nearly forgot how to speak.

Though I tried once again to steady my nerves, my voice betrayed me the moment I spoke.

“She died,” I said, in a shrill tone that I hardly recognized.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and I braced myself for what would surely be a violent reaction to the bad news.

“Maggie’s dead?” he asked, incredulously.

Somehow, I managed to nod despite my paralyzing fear. My eyes landed on a lock of hair that fell across his forehead. He didn’t bother to brush it back, preferring to curse a blue streak beneath his breath.

When he was done fouling up my ears, he sized me up and I wondered if he was thinking about having me as a snack before he went off to kill something bigger for dinner.

“Then you’ll have to do,” he said. “I want a potion to help me forget.”

His request didn’t surprise me at all. Forgetfulness potions were one of the more common requests paranormal patrons made. In her lifetime, my aunt had made enough to rival any craft brewery in the world.

Unfortunately, I had never tried my hand at making one. Forgetfulness potions just weren’t that common in the legal world, so I never thought I needed to learn how to brew them.

Not that I could tell that to the giant stranger with the sexy-scary gaze. I tried to stop my nerves from firing on all cylinders. If I could stop being so nervous, then perhaps I could recall how my aunt used to make the potion.

To by myself some time, I decided to try engaging the large man with some small talk.

“Uh, so…who are you trying to forget?” I asked.

VON

“None of your business!” I snapped.

Given how nervous she was, I hadn’t expected the old biddy in front of me to ask me such a bold question. Didn’t she know better than to be curious?

I sure as hell wasn’t about to tell a stranger, a witch no less, that I needed help in stopping memories of Willow from tormenting me. It had nothing to do with her and I would be damned if I would ever let myself open up to someone who didn’t have enough sense to mind her business.

I didn’t know much about witches, but I knew enough about them to know that it was best not to trust them fully.

Maggie had been helpful and wisely kept to herself. I never engaged much with her, but knew that I could count on her to give me what I needed when I needed it.

But not the little witch standing in front of me. She was clearly different, and I couldn’t help but wonder about her.

“Who are you?” I asked.

My voice made her jump again and she knocked over a couple of vials onto the counter. She took a breath to steady herself, then glanced up at me.

“I’m Cassie,” she replied.

My wolf stirred inside of me. Earlier, I thought it had been from the kill or perhaps from the full moon. But as I stared at the incredibly wrinkled witch in front of me, I had no doubt that my wolf was reacting to her.

Why does this ragged witch stir my wolf up? It makes no sense, I thought.

Insatiably curious, I leaned in closer and drew in a strangely intoxicating scent that emanated from the witch. It drove my wolf wild and made my mouth water. I took a deep breath of it and wondered if the witch had cast some kind of spell to make her more alluring.

She should have started with her withered old body first, I mused.

Breathing deeper each time, I decided I had to be careful around her. I couldn’t afford to fall under her spell, whatever it may have been.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

She stammered. “M-Maggie was my…sister.”

It was clear that I was making her nervous…and scared. I smiled at the realization.

CASSIE

He just keeps getting scarier and hotter, I thought.

I was doing all I could to keep thinking straight, but it was becoming impossible. The way the huge man looked at me and the way he was smiling… It was dangerous for more reasons than one.

There was more than just anger in his dark, all-seeing eyes. There was a hunger there and, even with my glamour, I couldn’t help but feel like that hunger was for me.

Something about that both scared and excited me.

Unfortunately, it only added to my already ridiculous amount of jitters. I fumbled with more of my aunt’s vials and sent a handful of them down to the floor. A few bounced and rolled, the rest shattered upon impact.

Shit, I hope I didn’t need those for the potion, I thought.

The man’s impatience only added to my nerves. By the time our encounter was over, I would need to drink my own forgetfulness potion to be able to sleep that night.

He slammed his hand on the counter, causing me to jump. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

I gulped beneath his accusing stare. “I—I’m doing the best that I can. I only came here recently and I’m not familiar with everything yet. I— I don’t know… I’m not sure where Maggie put everything.”

I hoped that was enough to placate him, so I had enough time to think clearly. Easier said than done as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving my face. I forced myself to look away.

Forgetfulness potions… Forgetfulness spells…

My mind spun as I tried to remember what they were and what they were actually called. I was drawing up a blank and feeling like I was about to panic. They were a common request, which meant that my aunt should have had vials of them ready to go, right? But I had no idea where she would have kept them.

I racked my brain, trying to remember everything she had taught me about how to make the potion and how to store them. The sooner I could find them, the sooner I could get the large man to leave.

Mustering courage that I didn’t know that I had, I stole a glance at him. His irritation was palpable…and annoying. He was the one who had stormed in there, not bothering with any kind of courtesy and demanding that I whip up a potion like it was the easiest thing in the world.

I huffed. “Maybe I’m not the witch for you.”

Secretly, however, I thought that I didn’t mind the idea of finding some other way to help him. I chided myself before my imagination got the better of me.

Stop thinking like that. This guy is a werewolf. A killer, I thought.

Suddenly, he reached across the counter and wrapped one hand around my throat.