I know exactly how you feel about her.

He wouldn’t stop yammering about her smell, her skin, her pretty ponytail that he’d like to grip while he took her from behind. I’d almost lost my goddamn mind just trying to have a civil conversation with the girl.

Look, we need her help, so I suggest you behave when we’re around her.

Throaty laughter echoed in my mind. The last thing I want to do around her is behave.

I stared at my reflection, thankful I didn’t look as crazy as I felt. I scratched at the scruff that was bordering on a beard. If I had a split personality disorder, at least I wouldn’t know when the other voices took over. That would be my idea of heaven right now. But no, I had to exist on the same plane as my animalistic ego. Or my id. Or whatever part of me my wolf represented.

Alpha. My name is Alpha, and you know it.

Before the hex, I’d only ever heard his voice during the monthly change. I’d have fleeting memories of him taking over and driving me during the shift. But now that I couldn’t let him out, he’d beat his way into my psyche, living alongside me every second of every damn day, torturing me with his running commentary on who he’d like to kill and who he’d like to fuck. Which was pretty much every stray dog or human being we came across. I was exhausted by it. By him.

And now he’d zoned in on Evie. The trusting, kind-hearted witch who’d convinced her prickly sister to help me. She didn’t have to do that. I was well aware of the reputation of my kind among other supernaturals. We were the ones you shunned to the outcast table. Even grims were more acceptable to witches and vampires than we were. Yes, I understood my ancestors had dug our own graves with a long history of witch-hunting and massacre. That’s why I was fine living alone, being alone. What I couldn’t endure was Alpha dirtying my mind with constant thoughts of his salacious plans for Evie.

After a frigid shower where I ignored Alpha’s incessant grumbling, I ate a quick breakfast of fried eggs and sausage, then headed downstairs to my studio. My delivery date for this latest commission was quickly approaching, and I had to find a way to focus if it killed me.

The problem was that it was nearly impossible to channel my muse when Alpha was so present. His urges were violent and hard. My metalwork, while intense in craft, required a sensual hand, a gentle touch. Alpha wouldn’t know sensual or gentle if it hit him over the damn head.

Hey. I can be gentle. Go get that red-haired witch, and I’ll show her how gently I can smack her ass.

Fucking hell. Save me.

I slammed on my welding helmet, jerked on my gloves, and took the torch off its holder before flicking on the fire. After returning to my sculpt, I moved a dozen stainless steel wires to my work table, then settled onto my stool. With the welding tongs, I lifted a twelve-inch string of galvanized wire and heated it with the torch. Leaning forward toward the juncture where the ocean waves merged into the leaping mermaid, I set to work, layering the waves with wire and motion.

I’d settled into a flow, placing one heated wire of steel after another, roping the mermaid’s tail into an intricate pattern. Then I changed direction, creating the illusion of a soft torso and silken skin.

He’d actually shut up when I’d found my groove. I’d gotten at least eleven minutes of blessed silence, finally falling into the perfect space between reality and fantasy where my muse took over.

Her tits are bigger.

I exhaled a deep sigh.

What the hell are you talking about?

The witch. Hers are bigger. Make the mermaid’s like hers.

“Fuck!”

A perfect handful.

I can’t believe this shit.

What? You know you’re thinking about her.

I shut off the torch, ripped off my welding helmet, and threw it across the workshop. Spearing a hand into my hair, I contemplated heavy drug use. With my luck, it would just dull my senses and make him even louder.

Why don’t we stop playing with metal women and go find a real one? One with red hair.

When was the last time he’d shut up for more than fifteen minutes?

Ponytail girl likes us, too. I can tell.

Ponytail girl? She has a name.

Didn’t notice. I was kinda distracted.

Evie. It’s Evie.

Mmmm. Yeah, that’s it. Rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? I like her.

I know you like her. But trust me, she doesn’t like you—I mean us—the same way.

Agree to disagree.

Wait. Last night. After we left the bar, he’d shut up for a while. He hadn’t said a word all the way to her house or even while meeting her sister. Now that I thought of it, he didn’t start his shit again until after we’d left and I’d passed a muscle-head leaving a club. Alpha had wanted me to beat the shit out of him for being a buff male.

He needed to know who was boss.

Come to think of it, even though Alpha had detailed every way he wanted to bend her over the bar, the frenzied buzzing under my skin dimmed the second I had touched her. It still hadn’t kept me from almost strangling that drunk, but I remembered feeling lighter somehow by the time I’d left her house. I chalked it up to having a possible solution to this problem, some relief, knowing the witches were going to help me. But…what if it was more than that? What if the feeling came from her?

That was it.

That was what?

You’re getting your wish. We’re going to see the witch.

Sweet. It’s time to claim our woman.

She’s not ours. Jesus. Would you settle down? We just met her.

A wolf wants what he wants.

I grabbed my keys hanging by the door, locked up, and headed east on Magazine Street. It was just a few blocks to the pub. I knew they served lunch, but it was early. If no one was there, I knew where she lived. She might not want me to bombard her at home, but I was desperate.

I agree.

The coffee drinkers were settled in with their laptops and iPads under the café awnings. I kept my hands in my pockets and my head down, trying to avoid any confrontation. Last month, Alpha had pushed me into a brawl with a morning commuter. I was in my truck, delivering my last commission in the business district, and this asshole sits on his car horn while I was legally parked to unload the sculpture. If he’d just stayed in his car and not gone all road-rage on me, then it wouldn’t have ended with him on the pavement with a bloody lip.

You should’ve torn his throat out.

Are you serious right now?

That lowlife scumbag needed to be put in his place for good.

Really? He deserved to die? For yelling at another driver? Nice.

I swear I could feel a furry shrug inside me.

That day was when I knew I was in trouble. I’d never lost my temper and acted in violence. Unless necessary.

It was necessary.

No, it wasn’t, asshole.

*snort*

Anyway, that’s when I knew for sure that I was on edge from not shifting. Since then, it had only gotten worse to control my urges.

I wish you’d lose control of your dick, because my balls are so blue you could sprinkle glitter on them and hang ’em on a Christmas tree.

Yeah, well, I wish you’d shut the fuck up, but I haven’t gotten my wish yet either.

Not yet, but maybe soon. I walked faster.

I strolled up to the Cauldron and peered in the window. Damn. No one in sight yet or they were in the kitchen. I kept walking past the bar. As I crossed in front of Mystic Maybelle’s, I sensed movement on my right. It was some kind of psychic and crystal shop. I glanced in, then came to a sudden stop. Evie. She stood on a ladder, putting something on the top shelf on the back wall.

Mmm. She looks good from behind.

I stepped inside, tinkling a bell over the door.

“Just a minute,” she called out.

She was trying to balance a glass orb with a transparent marbleized design on some kind of stand. A decorative crystal ball. Not wanting to distract her, I strolled over to the right wall, checking out what they sold. There was a shit-ton of different kinds of colored crystals and polished stones with names like amber, obsidian, amethyst, ametrine, and blue aragonite. There were small tented cards with labels that read for joint healing, for anxiety, for meditation. Another shelf displayed a few books for sale. Titles like Oracle Guide, Find Your Inner Medium, and Unblock Your Chakras.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that witches ran a witchcraft and metaphysical shop, but somehow I was. Humans didn’t realize there were actual witches living among them. On the second shelf near a display of Tarot cards, there was even a stuffed cat. They might’ve found a better taxidermist because the thing’s hair looked coarse and thin, its spine jutting up a bit too far. They could’ve at least had the taxidermist add some padding to this old pet they’d stuffed.

But then the stuffed cat slowly turned its head and looked at me.

“Fuck!”

Kill it!

“Oh,” came Evie’s voice.

I heard her coming down from the ladder, but I kept my eyes trained on the aberration. Its glassy orange eyes blinked. One at a time. In a slow robotic way. I gaped at what it did next. It smiled. I’m not kidding. Smiled. Like it was seriously wasted or high.

Fucking abomination.

“That’s just Z.” Evie maneuvered in front of me and lifted the horrifying creature into her arms. She actually cuddled it under her chin. “He’s a little shy.”

It made a strange sputtering noise, like a small motorboat engine stopping and starting. He must be sick or something.

“Is he okay?” He did not sound okay.

“What? Oh!” She laughed, her whole face lighting up. “Yeah, his purr is a little rough. He’s kind of old.” She scratched behind his ears and his weird purr grew louder. “But isn’t he so cute?”

Not exactly the adjective I was thinking of, but I didn’t want to insult her right before I asked a huge favor. I needed to test my theory first.

“Will he bite if I pet him?”

“Z? No way.” She laughed. “He’s as gentle as a lamb.”

A deranged, half-dead lamb. Finish it off.

I reached up and stroked a finger over its oddly large head, brushing the top of her hand that lay on his back.