“I thought we established that we were trying to prevent that from happening.”
“No!” She pointed up at the moon. “Don’t you have to change and howl and shit?”
“That’s a myth.”
“Weird.” She stepped across the threshold.
Suddenly, his cabin felt half the size it normally was, like they were standing in a tiny closet together, and running out of air.
He sucked in a breath and closed the door, intensifying the sensation. He squeezed the door handle instead of turning to her.
“So, who said wolves only shift on the full moon?” she asked. Her voice had a brittle quality. She was trying to cover up fear with hearty small talk.
“We weren’t the ones to write the myths,” he said and braced as he faced her.
She was turning in a circle, taking in the bed, kitchen, and stove. She turned back and met his eyes.
“When are you most likely to see a creature at night?” he asked.
“When there’s light.”
He smiled.
“Oh, that’s hilarious.”
“What are you doing here?” The words came out without his permission. He was going to let her small talk into the morning if she wanted to.
“I promised to help. You didn’t break any of your promises, so I can’t break mine.”
“You can, actually. You could just change your mind and never come back.”
She frowned, and he wished he had chairs. The only chairs were on the porch.
“You don’t want to hurt me at all.”
“No.” This had nothing to do with small talk.
“And you’re not some weird outlier of a shifter?”
For lack of anything better to do, he sat on the very edge of his bed so he didn’t tower over her. “What are you asking?”
“Doanyshifters want to kill witches?”
“Not that I know.” He considered all the mates his cousins had fallen in love with. “Quite the opposite.”
“What the hell is the opposite?”
He bit his tongue. “Not killing them.”
She looked around and shimmied onto his kitchen counter. She looked over the spread of chocolate-making supplies and absently swiped a finger through the mixture in the big bowl he had yet to smooth.
“I wouldn’t—” he said as she popped her finger into her mouth and coughed and hacked.
“What the hell?”
“Chocolate.”
“That’s disgusting.”
