The pizza place Seth wants to go to is a block away from my apartment, so I told him I'd meet him there. I step into a restaurant that has the tattered look of a good college hangout. It's a popular spot most of the time, but especially late at night for the partiers who want a slice before they go back to the dorm. Laughter carries toward me, and I turn to find a group of guys at a table with Seth standing by them. He sees me and smiles as he waves me over. As I get closer, it occurs to me these guys are not only werebear, but possibly an extreme athletic team of some sort, because they're huge and built of solid muscle.

"Nina," says Seth, "these are a few of my friends."

He goes on to list a bunch of names I'll forget, and I smile at them before I pull out my standard, "Nice to meet you."

Seth and I leave them to go find a booth of our own, and I slide over a wooden bench to be across from him. "Are those guys some special forces unit?"

"Warriors," Seth says, and when I frown, he asks, "You know what I am, don't you?"

A warrior? My insides clench up with anxiety because I'm way, way out of my league. Warriors are the werebear who protect the clan, meaning this guy could probably kill anyone who wanted to hurt me with a single swipe of his bear paw, and it's scary that I find it hot as hell. I say, "Well, that explains the size." I let out a small growl.

He bursts out laughing at me, and I smile, happy my joke didn't fall flat.

"My god, Nina. Where did you come from?"

"New Jersey," I say before I realize he was being rhetorical. I go with it anyway. "I moved here a couple months ago. Have you always lived here?"

"Yes. I even went to Orono."

"Warriors go to college?" I ask.

He frowns for a moment, and it hits me that my genuinely curious question could be taken as an insult, but his expression quickly changes to a smile. "They do. And sometimes they graduate."

I chuckle with relief. "Well, now I'm very impressed." I take the menu he hands me.

Seth asks, "Have you eaten here before?"

"Just delivery."

"What do you like on your pizza?"

I'm not sure how to answer the question. Is he asking because he wants to split one or because he's making conversation? I deflect. "What do you like?"

"I'm a straight pepperoni guy."

"Me too!" I exclaim, even though I really like just cheese.

"We really were meant to be."

I think about how Elise thought we might be soul mates, so I reach out and touch his arm to see if maybe I can feel a connection. "Really?" He flexes immediately under my fingers, and what I feel is an arm that is as hard as a rock. It's nice, but I'm not sure that makes it a soul-mate connection.

"The last girl I dated wanted a veggie pizza without the bread or cheese."

I frown, trying to sort it out, and then laugh when I get it. He's talking about the kind of girl who worries about having a flat stomach or a thigh gap. And since Elise told me werebear like women who eat, I say, "Yeah, I'm the furthest from a cheerleader as you can get. Bring it on!" I flinch at the volume of my last statement, and I don't have to glance around to know people are looking at me.

I have to give Seth credit, though, because this is the point when he should want to bail, and he doesn't. He blinks once and then jumps into my crazy. "Bring it!" he says just as loudly as I did.

I laugh. I'm not sure if I conjured him up or unconsciously spelled him to like me, and I squint to scan him for any magical residue. When I don’t find any, it makes me think I've found a guy who doesn't think my dorkiness is something to be embarrassed about. I relax a little because he seems to enjoy it.

Our boisterous voices bring the waitress over, and we order beers and a large pepperoni pizza.

When she leaves, Seth asks, "Tell me about what you train dogs to do."

"I work mostly with troubled ones."

"Troubled?"

"Yeah. The ones who are exhibiting negative behaviors like aggression, or they suffer from anxiety about something." Two drafts thud down before us, and I lift mine to take a sip.

"It must be hard to know what the problem is."

Seth's easy acceptance so far has relaxed me, and I know this is when I should tell him I'm a witch and how I can communicate with animals. But a lifetime of being judged for my magic makes me want to keep my powers secret a little longer. "Not if you pay close attention to the clues they give. People often don't see little things dogs do, or don't understand what the signals mean."

Seth licks foam off his lips. "I get it. Small children aren't as subtle as animals, but they often exhibit behaviors that give us a message not everyone can see too."

I think about how Elise's kids cry often, and it can be for a variety of reasons. Elise claims she can tell from the sound of the cry what the problem is. "Yeah. It's kind of like that." I find it sweet that a strong warrior knows about kids and imagine he's got nieces and nephews.

"Tell me what it's like to be a warrior." I look over at his friends. "I have to admit I'm a bit in awe."

Seth frowns. “I’m not—” He glances over my shoulder, and his expression relaxes. "Our pizza’s here, and I'm starving. How about you?"

I lean back to make room for the sizzling-hot pizza that the waitress sets down before us, and my mouth waters at the sight of gooey cheese. "Me too. This looks so good." I tug on a slice.

"Mm-hm," Seth says with a mouthful of food.

His slice flops, and a blob of cheese falls off. Even though he tries to catch it, it splats onto his plate. And I find it adorable, because I bet he’s not judging me for the way I knock over the red-pepper container when I reach for a napkin. The two of us are quiet as we take time to eat.

When I've finished a piece, I reach for more and ask, "So how hard do you have to train to be a warrior? You must be hungry all the time."

Seth is chewing, and he holds up a finger for me to wait. But I never get my answer, because a girl near us lets out a squeal, and I notice a bird fly by.

"Whoa," says Seth as the bird flies back and forth and bounces off a wall and a window as it frantically searches for a way out. "Poor thing is trapped."

I hone in on the small bird, which I think is a chickadee, and her panic fills me. I immediately send a message. "I can help. Stop flying around and breathe. I'll get you out of here."

I stand up with the intention of going to the door so the bird can come to me and be let out, but a guy moves toward the chickadee and reaches out with his bare hand as if he's going to grab it. A move that could damage her in a way that would eventually kill her.

I yell, "No! Don't touch her!"

Everyone is staring at me now, but the bird is more important than my embarrassment, and I make my way to the door by walking backward. I wave my hands in a come-here motion. "This way, little bird. Follow me."

The chickadee flies over toward me, and when I hold out my finger, she lands on it. I don't hear words, but her energy tells me she's still scared.

"I'm taking you outside." As soon as I get out the door, she flies up and hovers in the air for a moment, and telepathically, I sense her version of thanks as I feel her relief.

I smile, pleased with my good deed, before I turn back, and as I walk toward my table, people clap.

Someone calls out, "Bird whisperer!"

It's followed by laughter, but when I sit, Seth's expression isn't a happy one.

I'm not sure what he's thinking, so I ask, "What?"

"You're a witch, aren't you?"

My chest tightens, because here it comes. Elise told me that while the alphas of clans do want witches and werebear to mate, many werebear are prejudiced about magicals. For such large, powerful animals, they seem to be afraid of our power.

I let out a sigh. "I am." I stand up again. "Thanks for dinner."

"Where are you going?"

"I—you don't want me to leave?"

"No." Seth scowls in confusion. "I'm just surprised you didn't tell me when I asked about how you manage to help troubled dogs. Sit." I plop down again, and he leans forward to speak in a softer voice. "Were you afraid to tell me you're a witch?"

I shrug. "My magical status isn't usually a selling point, and I know some werebear are freaked out about our powers."

"Not this one." He smiles. "I'm impressed. You talked to that bird, didn't you?"

"Kind of."

"He landed on your finger!"

"She." I smile because I think Seth does believe what I did was cool. "And yeah, she did."

Seth sits back. "That's amazing. Huh." He reaches for another piece of pizza. "Were you the one that put the silverware back on the table after you bumped into it?"

I let out a groan. "You saw that. No, Sammy and Elise cleaned up my mess for me." I bite into my pizza, and the salty flavor of pepperoni fills my mouth.

Seth says, "You being a witch is going to get me some major points with my alpha when she finds out." I must make a face in response because Seth catches himself. "Oh. Sorry. I'm assuming you'll be my girlfriend." His eyes fill with hope. "Will you?"

I'm glad I have a mouthful of pizza, because if I didn't, I probably would have squealed. Instead, I nod. But on the inside? I bet every bird around just heard me let out a scream of joy.