“Wait,” I begged Jules, my voice almost back to normal, hoping she didn’t zap me with her magic before I could rein him in.

After one more rough huff, the growling in my chest stopped.

My pulse was racing. No. That wasn’t mine. That was Evie’s. I could hear it and feel it drumming against my forearm that was still pressed to her upper chest. The swift beat of her heartbeat made me want to lean my head down and lick her pulse. Then the rest of her.

“I’m sorry,” I said to her, releasing her so fast she stumbled. I grabbed her arm to steady her. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered and gave me a pitying look, though there was a thread of trepidation in her voice. To think that I’d put it there sickened me.

“I didn’t mean—” What didn’t I mean? To grab her at the first sign of danger and clutch her to my body like she was mine? To allow Alpha to take over and scare the shit out of the witches who were trying to help me? Who was I kidding? I was losing control over him. Slowly but surely.

And the looks her sisters were giving me, especially Jules. Not good. Thankfully, the attention swiveled back to Violet when the cat let out a yowl.

“Get that damn rooster out of here,” ordered Jules, steel in her voice. Whether it was for me or her sister, I wasn’t sure. “I’m warning you, Violet. He’s two steps away from being chicken pot pie.”

“He’s a rooster. Not a chicken.” Violet scowled, shushing the clucking bird.

“He’ll taste just the same.”

“Ignore her, Freddie,” Violet crooned to him.

“Now, Violet,” said Jules with unrestrained annoyance, pointing toward the door.

“I’ll get Z some milk,” said Clara, quickly pouring a saucer and taking him to the pantry, her gaze flicking to me with the same sympathetic look Evie had given me a second ago.

When they’d both left to take care of the party-crashers, Jules turned her gray gaze on me. “I’m sorry, Mateo. I realize now that even small mishaps can cause your wolf to exert himself.”

She hasn’t seen nothing yet.

“No. I’m the one who’s sorry.” I swallowed hard against the shame of losing my shit and acting like a possessive psycho over nothing at all.

Jules waved a hand at the door where Clara and Violet had left with the animals. “It’s not usually like this.”

“It’s usually much more chaotic,” said Evie, her voice lifting lightheartedly, though a glint of sad compassion still sparked in her eyes.

Jules gave Evie a look. “I just meant we don’t typically have barnyard animals running through the kitchen at dinnertime.”

Evie mouthed, Yes, we do.

I glanced down, studying my shoes for no reason, willing away the shame. Evie stepped closer and nudged my elbow with hers. “It’s okay,” she murmured just for me. “You should see the freakshow this place is when all my sisters are here.”

She was trying to lighten what had happened, which I appreciated, but it just proved to me how bad off I truly was. Evie’s quick forgiveness went a long way to smooth over my awkward embarrassment at grabbing her like a maniac to protect her from a rooster and a half-dead cat.

“Have a seat,” said Jules, sounding more curt than polite. Her heavy, observant gaze sent off some alarm bells. She apparently wasn’t quite as forgiving. Understandably. While Evie walked over to the stove to serve our plates, Jules asked quietly, “Does that happen a lot? Your wolf taking over the man like that?”

There was no reason to deny it. “Only since this hex. I’ve always been in control before then.”

“Always?” she asked with a skeptical arch of her brow.

“Yes,” I said a little aggressively, forcing myself to remain calm. “Always.”

“Have you ever hurt anyone physically since this hex was put on you?”

Pressing my lips together, I didn’t want to tell her the truth. But I certainly wasn’t going to lie. “Only once.” Like only one incident of violence was okay. Clearing my throat, I told her, “I had a delivery for a client and was parked legally on the side of the street. But some guy with serious road rage got out and jumped in my face, screaming and cursing me out for blocking his parking spot.”

“What did you do?”

“It was a quick reaction. Instinctual. I punched him in the nose.”

Damn straight, we did.

“I see.”

I put a napkin in my lap and held her examining gaze so she wouldn’t think I was hiding anything. Which I wasn’t. “I’m able to keep things in check most of the time.”

“Except when startled.” She nodded again to the door where her sisters had left a minute ago.

“Exactly.”

She glanced beyond my shoulder where Evie was, then said low, “My sister can handle herself, but be warned that I’ll have to step in if you threaten her in any way.”

Feeling that warning like a lock on my bones, my muscles clenched at the danger. “I understand. I would expect nothing less.”

She nodded, her lips pressing a tight smile, telling me she was glad we agreed on the matter.

Evie returned to the table and set a plate in front of me. “Help yourself to French bread.” She gestured toward the basket at the center of the table, her gaze flicking between me and Jules, obviously picking up on the strained vibe.

Jules left to fix two plates and set them down at empty places at the table, her lips still compressed into a tight line. It didn’t take a genius to detect the tension had less to do with the circus animal act and more to do with my sudden possessive aggression toward her sister. Winning over Jules would be a major undertaking. Evie’s sister was important to her, so I had to try.

I’d thought to push this friendship with Evie to the next level once this hex was broken, but now I was wondering if Jules would try to prevent even friendship. I suddenly wished Clara would hurry up and return. Something about her mere presence lifted any dark vibes.

Which one is she? The one who pisses glitter and shits rainbows?

Not even entertaining him right now.

“So where did he get the name Z from?”

Violet and Clara filed in right then. Violet snorted as she took her seat. “It’s short for Zombie Cat.”

“Zombie Cat?” I forked a spoonful of shrimp, spicy tomato sauce, and white rice.

Clara beamed, reaching for a slice of French bread. “Z is special. He’s thirty years old.”

I looked at Evie. “Thirty? How is that even possible?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Our sister Isadora is a Conduit.”

Whoa. I’d heard of them before but had never met one. This kind of witch could transfer energy from any source into another. Apparently, even energy to extend the life of a cat.

“Yeah,” added Violet. “Evie tried to call him Oliver once upon a time, but Isadora dubbed him Zombie Cat after she started giving him ‘treatments.’”

Evie rolled her eyes at Violet’s air quotes. “You’re such a hypocrite. How old is Fred now? Hmm, let me see…”

“Shut up, Sissy.”

“Mateo, where does your inspiration for your art come from?” asked Clara, completely out of the blue. But it kind of seemed her style.

“Um, mostly mythology. And history.”

“That’s interesting. Any particular reason?” She sipped her tea, her inquisitive brows raised.

“Not really. I’ve just always been drawn to it.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely accurate.” Her accusation was pronounced so sweetly it took the sting out of the rudeness.

I opened my mouth to tell her I knew my own mind, but then a sudden wash of memory swept me back. Mama lay in the bed with me, cuddled close, reading the story of Perseus to me. It had been so long ago, I hadn’t thought of the memory in ages.

“My mother,” I admitted. “She was fond of the Greeks. I believe that’s where it started for me.”

Clara smiled brightly. “Well, that’s lovely.”

Evie gave me a smile of her own, much smaller and more crooked, but it was enough to ease the remaining tension from my shoulders.

“The shrimp creole is delicious,” I said to Jules.

Jules nodded, spooning a bite from her bowl. “Thank you.”

Violet checked her watch. “Yeah, well, this is nice and all, but we need to speed it up. I have a three o’clock appointment.”

“With whom?” Jules injected some venom in her question. I was glad it was no longer turned on me.

“None of your business. You’re not my mother, Juliana.”

An electric current rippled in the air, raising the hairs on my arms. Alpha rumbled a deep growl at the sudden presence of magic.

“No, but everything that affects this coven needs to go through me.”

“This doesn’t affect the coven,” Violet snapped back.

“Why are you being so—?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jules. You can’t control everyone and everything.” Violet rolled her eyes. “Drop it.”

Clara reached over and placed her hand on Violet’s forearm, a pulse of yellow light flashed then was gone. Almost like the flash of a camera, but cameras didn’t leave a sizzle of electricity in the air. Clara’s magic hummed against my chest from across the table, a pleasant vibration. Strange.

“Don’t bother,” said Violet, standing with her empty plate. “I’m not angry. Just ready to get the show on the road.” Then her piercing gaze landed on me. “If you’re done, Wolfman. Let’s do this.”

Jules popped up, then Clara, carrying their plates to the sink. Evie stood and picked up my empty plate, too. With a shrug, she said, “Sorry. They’re not usually such assholes.”

“Yes, we are,” said Violet, heading through the living room and out into the hall toward the back of the house.