From Chapter 3, and contains certain spoilers for Chapters 1 & 2:
June’s heart beat so fast and hard she feared Harry would hear it. What she was doing was dicey, and her coven hadn’t exactly approved it. Her coven wouldn’t have approved anything that tossed one of their members into pack politics. But she’d realized, when the idea of losing him struck her like a pie in the face, she had to try anyway. And she had to do it immediately.
She wouldn’t let him be forced into the Millington pack. That wasn’t fair to anyone, much less Harry. He was perfect the way he was.
Nearly perfect. He had kind of a potty mouth.
“A problem?” His bushy brows arched. “I wouldn’t call it that. It’s this woman who wants me to come to a party. I RSVP’d no.”
“A pack bond ceremony, to be exact.” June let the cedar fall to her side. She couldn’t purify his property and hide their tracks while tiptoeing around her kind’s sacred covenant about keeping shifters in the dark. “I understand why the alpha wants you—” Did she ever! “—but most indies don’t make good packers.”
“Ububobu whu?” Harry stuttered.
“I can help you, but you have to swear on your pelt you’ll never tell anybody what I did.”
Quicker than she thought possible, considering he wasn’t pack, Harry invaded her personal space, grabbed her shoulders again and pinned her against her car.
“What do you know?”
She could barely make out the words through his growl. His whiskey-colored eyes sparked pale blue with the onset of the shift. His tousled hair glinted blue-black in the sun. Oh Goddess, his scent was wild and musky, his hands strong. Being this close to him when he was riled was much more erotic than she’d expected.
She always had to be careful about getting close to Harry. His senses were keen, and some of her secrets had to remain secret.
Like the fact he’d been right the first time he’d called her name. Well, not right—her real name was June—but she’d been wearing her Sandie camouflage for years. She’d considered keeping it after the encounter in the tea room, but it took too much power to maintain. She needed all the magic she could squeeze out of herself to help Harry, so all she’d kept was a minimum facade of humanity.
“I know enough,” she told him. Summoning a spike of power, she channeled it into the cedar and poked his stomach. He jumped back with a yelp as if he’d been stung, which technically he had.
“What the hell was that?” He jerked up his shirt to check, and she nearly whistled. Shifters were physically fit in two-legged form, yeah, but his abs were especially delicious. With her libido dampener forfeit like her Sandie mask, all that black, silky hair on his chest, trailing down his midriff, weakened her knees.
“Sorry. Cedar has sharp needles.” If she came out of this with Harry ignorant about magic, her coven might not go completely off on her. They’d still be furious, but the covenant would be intact and so would Harry.
Now she just needed to stuff an angry werewolf into a tiny car and transport him to safety before she ran out of juice—and before anybody figured out what she was doing.
Find more great excerpts about fears here!
Megan Hart — Read in bed!