Things can change so quickly. You can be minding your business, paying no attention to anything besides just getting through another day, then Bam! Life change.

The first big change in Harper’s life had come when she was eight years old. The police had shown up at her MeeMaw’s house in Kennesaw with the news that her parents, Arthur and Telyn, had died in a car accident. They had been driving home from one of their rare weekends away, when they’d spend alone time together, pretending to once more be nothing more than a man and a woman in love, doing silly, romantic things like going to the Georgia Aquarium and the Zoo, having dinner at the Waffle House Museum. Unfortunately, they had never made it back home.

The second big change came the next day. She had cried herself to sleep the night before, cried until her throat was raw and she had passed out from being unable to catch her breath through the sobs that had torn their way free of her tiny body. She had been rudely awakened by a pounding on her MeeMaw’s front door, and by the time she had come out of her room, she had been confronted by the sight of Rhona Mae Morgan facing off alone against a grim older man dressed in a crisp business suit, flanked by two rather large, intimidating flunkies whose business suits did nothing to conceal either their bulk or the weapons they had holstered at their hips.

Her father’s father, her grandfather, had sent his lawyer and bodyguards with the legal documents proclaiming them Harper’s legal guardians, both in the mortal world and in the eyes of the Witches’ High Coven. It was that day Harper learned that Law and Legal System could be used as a weapon, one wielded most powerfully in the hands of the wealthy and connected.

Within the hour, she and her meager possessions had been packed up and heading down to the Llewellyn Plantation, on the opposite side of Atlanta from her MeeMaw’s, outside of Stone Mountain.

Much like David and Victorianna Llewellyn, the Llewellyn Plantation was beautiful, immaculate, and cold. They left Harper’s raising to the hands of an army of nannies and the housekeeper, except when it came to witchcraft. That, the Llewellyns kept completely to themselves. Victorianna had bluntly informed a young Harper they believed that Arthur and Telyn had been victims of Hunters, because they were not circumspect in their use of magic. Harper had been forced to repress her own innate magic, while receiving only the most basic of rudimentary training in ritual magic, which the Llewellyns only kept their hands in to remain a part of the witch community.

The Llewellyns, well at least the Atlanta branch of the family, were not necessarily bad people. They were just extremely conservative, and more concerned with perception than reality. They mingled with politicians, businessmen, the other blue blood families who had been part of the South since the South was considered capital-S-South. They had very strict ideas on how Harper should act, how she should look and speak, since she was a representative of The Llewellyns, and they must always be above reproach.

The fact that Arthur had run away from his responsibilities to marry a no-name witch from a hedge witch family had been almost worth disowning him, but since he had been their only son, they clung to the fact than an annwyl-bond was sacred to the High Coven. Their two daughters had made very successful marriages to other blue blood witch families on the basis of that alone, so the Llewellyns had “suffered in silence.”

Harper, however, had to pay for the sins of her parents. She had to put up with being shamed for being too intelligent, too tall, too common looking, too “sturdy” instead of svelte and sweet. But Harper persevered, she learned to play the game. She had been a cheerleader in high school, had dated the captain of the football team, maintained straight As, earned a scholarship to the colleges of her choice, and deciding to pursue a career in law had earned her some respect from her grandparents.

They had fought her decision to attend a college on the West Coast, but Harper had successfully pointed out it would enable her to make connections with some of the witch families out in the Pacific Northwest. This had been the third big change in her life. College. There, away from her family, she had flourished. She had quit forcing herself to diet, embracing her height and curves, finding strength in participating in playing volleyball, in hanging out with Sam and their friends. But most of all, she had been able to take art class electives, including glass blowing classes.

Her mother, Telyn, had been an artist. Young, vibrant, filled with life and with a true appreciation for the beauty found in the simplest of things, she had filled their house with glass chimes, stained glass pieces that she would change out depending on the season of the year, and the most exquisitely blown glass figurines. Being able to finally learn the art form her mother had spent years practicing, allowed Harper to reconnect to some of the most poignant and forgotten happy moments before she had lost her mother.

When she had graduated and been hired by one of the most prestigious entertainment and sports law firms in Atlanta, with Daniels, Jameson & Walker, it had earned her a reprieve from having to attend events with her family. Particularly since they had her perfect younger cousins to present and fawn over. However, they had been making noises lately that Harper should start finding a husband, one from a proper witch family with a good bloodline, once she reached her majority at 30, that had led to Harper deciding it was time to make a change.

Thus, the fourth big change in her life. The one that had led her to quitting Daniels, Jameson & Walker, selling her condo, hopping into her truck and heading to Colorado. Oh, and that had been immediately followed by the fifth and perhaps biggest change yet. Meeting her annwyl, her mate. A werewolf. No, a Viking Beast of a Werewolf, with the sweetest smile and the most heart-stopping, panty-melting blue eyes she had ever seen.

All this weighed on her mind as she headed for her truck to go see if she could find any convenience stores open. She figured some place had to be open, despite the holiday. It was 2017 after all! As she sat in her truck, letting Little Lady warm up before she pulled away, Harper pulled out her phone and did a quick search.

One. One convenience store, in Grand Lake. About an hour or so away.

With a sigh, Harper couldn’t resist taking another glance at the photo of the man who was her other half. Just looking at the image of him on her phone, his hair in wild disarray, his eyes nearly glowing with intensity as he looked at her, and that half-smile splitting his bearded face, Harper could no more stop the smile from crossing her face than she could stop the sun from rising. Not that she wanted to do either. Just seeing that face, filled with that knowing she had found that one person that God, the Fates, or whatever Higher Being or Beings existed, had determined would complete her life—it meant she was no longer alone. No longer alone in the crushing, ever-present cold that had become her entire world.

That thought alone gave her the courage to take the chance. Despite having to deal with both Roid-Rage Santa and the Grandparents Llewellyn. Just let them try and come between her and her deepest, darkest secret. The fact that she just wanted someone to love her and not ever let her go.

♥♥♥

The drive to the convenience store in Grand Lake and back had been filled by Harper’s usual distraction, her musicals, which allowed her to not stress over the evening ahead, her grandparents, or anything else except just belting along with heartfelt gusto. Between Wicked on the way there and Cats on the way back, it kept her mind occupied.

Pulling back into the lot at the Village, she shouldered the bags that had some groceries, a couple of touristy t-shirts and sweatshirts that would serve admirably as casual wear, and a couple of pairs of men’s overalls that would accommodate her well, she was ready to seriously get into the swing of her new life.

She was looking forward to that…okay, no, honestly, she was seriously looking forward to seeing Bard again more than she was about starting what she thought would be her life for the next few months. Harper had never been big about lying to herself. Being a lawyer may have taught her that it didn’t always pay to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, but with herself, she was always brutally honest. Self-deception was the worst kind of deception and Harper had witnessed too many times the destructive path that led down.

As she carried her bags back towards her cottage, Harper debated on the best way to transfer her glass supplies. They were carefully crated-up and packed in the trailer attached to Little Lady. Spotting the group of young teenaged boys who had been hanging around the twins earlier, Harper grinned.

“Heya boys,” she called out, “Could I get y’all’s help?”

Instantly, they all hopped to attention, spinning to face her like a group of over-eager puppies. She could almost see their ears perking up and their tales wagging as they darted towards her. Before she could blink, her bags were taken, and they were off. Well, all of them except the eldest, who remained beside her, eyes ever-watchful as he fell into step with her, easily carrying the heavy bags she had been struggling with.

Definitely shifters then. Harper thought with amusement.

“Sorry about that,” the young man said gruffly, his voice low and raspy, as if it hurt to speak.

Knowing better than to draw attention to the boy…no, even if he wasn’t out of his teens yet, going by the look in his eyes, he had left any semblance of childhood behind long ago—young man’s scars or to his voice, Harper merely gave him a small smile.

“It’s okay, I’m just glad for the help,” Harper said. “I’ve got a trailer I need to unload; do you think you all would be willing to help with that?”

He glanced over at her, suspicion in his gaze. “Oh?”

Nodding, ignoring the suspicious look, Harper continued talking. “Yeah. I’m a glass artist, and I brought a lot of my supplies and some things I’ve already made, so I can set up my shop. You’d be surprised how heavy glass can be!”

Giving him her very best helpless Southern Belle look, complete with rapidly fluttering eyelashes and a coy smile, Harper went on. “I overheard that you all have some stuff to take care of over that the camp, but I’d be more than happy to repay you all for your time.”

“You know I’m gay, right? And that whole fluttering eyelash thing doesn’t really work on us?” Though the words were delivered in flat tones, there was a hint of amusement lurking about his twitching lips. “And don’t try the puppy eyes either,” he nodded his head towards younger boys ahead, “I’ve built up an immunity to that too.”

“Sweetie,” Harper laughed, “Believe me when I tell you, you’ll draw more flies with honey than with vinegar, and if all else fails, bullshit works even better.”

That drew a startled laugh from the young man that had Harper grinning as they arrived at her cottage.

That flutter of disappointment at not seeing Bard? Woo, that was a new feeling, and one that Harper did not like.

Unconsciously rubbing her chest, Harper turned to the eager young boys and summoned a smile. Southern women learned to smile through anything. “Okay gentlemen, let’s get those inside. Then, if you big, strapping shifters would be willing to help a poor, little, old me with carrying some more stuff from my truck, I’d be most grateful!”

Four sets of eyes, with varying degrees of suspicion mingled with something akin to hope, glanced between her and the leader of the little pack. When he gave an abrupt nod, one of them piped up, “How grateful?”

“Hmmm?” Harper pondered aloud, “Well, it depends on what you want. I’d be happy to pay you all, and I did buy what I needed to make my famous hummingbird cupcakes and my death-by-chocolate fudge cookies…”

That was apparently all she needed to say. The air was suddenly filled with whoops and cheers, and like that, Harper found that she now had five very determined young minions willing to help her with whatever she needed. As long as she paid them back in cookies and cupcakes.

Their leader, Erik, just Erik, was serious and intense, but he never raised his voice or had to do much more than offer a little growl here and there to keep the younger pups under control. He was backed up by Vinnie, who was easily the shortest of the bunch, though not the youngest. Built wide and solid, he was the designated baby sitter, keeping the younger ones from running off chasing whatever shiny object happened to catch their interest. The other three, Timothy, Jacob, and the youngest, Matthew, were all sweet kids, but as energetic as they could be, they’d all group up and clam up if they came across any strangers.

Knowing better than to press them for information, and mightily resisting the urge to go full-on mothering mode, Harper instead treated them like the annoying but absolutely adorable pups they were.

When Matty had tripped and dropped a small crate, the distinctive sound of shattering glass was quickly followed by the sound of his sobs. The terror that Harper heard in his voice as he struggled to apologize, the instinctive flinch away from her as she ran up to find out what happened, near broke her heart.

Quickly gathering him up in her arms, she did a quick check to make sure he hadn’t cut himself before she pulled him tight in an embrace, rocking him soothingly as she rubbed his back and tucked his head in the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s just glass. I can melt it down and make something new out of it, something even better. Don’t you worry yourself, as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters!”

Ignoring the small crowd of onlookers, Harper had Erik and Vinnie clean up the mess while she lifted Matty in her arms and carried him to her shoppe. She was met there by the fellow that shared the forge with Bard, Hank-something-or-other, who was closing up their shoppe and the cottage.

“Miss Llewellyn,” Hank nodded towards the shivering young boy wrapped around her like a monkey. “Need any help?”

“No, thank you. I’ve got this,” Harper replied, focused more on getting Matty safely inside her own cottage so she could double-check him for injuries and calm him down without any gawkers making the boy more self-conscious and embarrassed than he already was.

“Right then,” Hank drawled, tipping his head as he locked up. “Oh, Bard went home to get cleaned up and changed. Thought you might want to know.”

And with that, he ambled off, whistling tunelessly as he left.

Shaking her head in bemusement, Harper carried Matty inside and set to cleaning him up.

Before she could stop herself, Harper thought, ‘Could today get any stranger?’