Scarlett! For the love of the Goddess, please hurry up! I don’t want your brother waiting all day!” Jessica’s voice echoed up the grand staircase, sharp but laced with exasperation.
“I’m coming, Mama! Chill!” Scarlett called back, twisting the cap off her lipstick with a flick of her wrist. Her reflection in the mirror smirked back at her as she painted her lips the same fiery red as the tips of her ombre-dyed hair. She winked at herself. If you’ve got it, why not flaunt it?
She stood back, giving her reflection one last look. A strawberry-haired young woman with sharp eyes and a confidence she’d grown into after turning eighteen just months ago. Her choppy, shoulder-length hair framed a face that would’ve turned heads even without the lipstick. She fluffed her hair, grabbed her car keys from the dresser, and spun toward the door.
Her wolf stirred faintly in the back of her mind. It had been there since her first shift a few months ago—a magnificent, oversized gray wolf. Larger than most in the pack, its presence had sparked whispers among the Blood Moon wolves. Some suspected her lineage. Her mother’s mate had been an Alpha, though Jessica rarely spoke of it.
Scarlett rushed out of her room and nearly collided with Indigo, her fourteen-year-old sister. Indigo’s eyes narrowed as she stepped back with a scowl.
“Careful, witch!” Indigo snapped.
“Watch it, Indy,” Scarlett retorted, her tone dripping with impatience. “I’m late. Elijah’s flight’s already landed.” She flew down the stairs, skipping the last few steps entirely, her boots landing with a solid thud on the polished wood floor.
Jessica appeared from the kitchen, apron dusted with flour and hair pulled into a bun that had clearly lost the battle with her chaotic baking frenzy. “Scarlett,” she said sternly, holding a spatula in one hand like it was a weapon of authority. “Slow down before you trip and break something. Or someone.”
Scarlett glanced at her mother, catching sight of the multi-tiered cake being worked on in the background. Her mother, Luna to the Blood Moon Pack, didn’t spend her days in idle luxury. She was Stratford-Upon-Avon’s most sought-after baker—a reputation that both baffled and amused Scarlett. A werewolf baking human cakes for a living? It was so… Jessica.
Scarlett paused mid-step, arching a brow. “Make up your mind, Mama. Do you want me to hurry or not?”
Jessica opened her mouth to reply, but Scarlett was already gone, cutting across the wide lawn to her white Ford Fiesta. The car gleamed under the midday sun, a gift from Jessica and Jackson, her stepfather, for her birthday. Being eighteen had its perks.
As Scarlett drove toward Birmingham Airport, she cranked the windows down, letting the warm breeze sweep through the car, tugging at the strands of her hair. The rhythm of the EDM track pounding through the speakers matched the beat of her heart as she tapped her nails on the wheel.
The drive gave her time to think. Or, rather, to wrestle with thoughts she didn’t want to have.
Elijah Westwood. Her stepbrother. Future Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack.
Scarlett let out a low groan, leaning her head against the headrest as the road blurred ahead. Two years ago, when he’d returned for a brief summer break from his Alpha training, she’d made the horrifying realization that she… liked him. Like, liked liked him. The kind of like that had her sneaking looks when he wasn’t paying attention. The kind that made her pulse race when he teased her.
She cringed now at the memory. Goddess, no. Not again. You’re over it. You’re over him.
Still, her wolf stirred again at the thought of Elijah. Scarlett gritted her teeth and cranked the volume on the stereo higher. Not helping, girl.
By the time she pulled into the airport parking lot, Scarlett’s nerves were frayed. She squeezed her car into a painfully tight space, only to realize she couldn’t open the driver’s side door. “Great,” she muttered, climbing awkwardly over the center console to exit through the passenger side.
Inside, the terminal was a chaos of travelers, luggage, and voices echoing off the high ceilings. Scarlett scanned the flight information board. Elijah’s flight had landed thirty minutes ago.
“Late. Of course you are,” came a familiar drawl behind her.
She spun around—and smacked right into a solid wall of muscle. Or rather, Elijah’s chest.
“Dammit!” Scarlett yelped, stumbling back and rubbing the spot on her shoulder where she’d hit him. She looked up—and froze.
Winter spice, vanilla, and musk hit her nose like a thunderclap, the scent uniquely Elijah’s. His piercing blue eyes sparkled with amusement, his tanned face framed by messy waves of chocolate hair. He looked… unfairly good. The fitted white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest, paired with ripped jeans and a leather jacket that screamed trouble. He’d grown. Taller. Bigger. And somehow, even more annoyingly attractive.
“Need help massaging that?” he asked, his lips curving into a slow smirk as his eyes flicked down—not at her shoulder, but her chest.
Scarlett’s face flamed. “Shut up, Elijah,” she snapped, shoving him back.
He only chuckled, the sound low and far too pleased with himself. “Come on, Red. You’re not happy to see me?” His tone was playful, but the way his eyes lingered on her had her heart stuttering. “You’ve… grown up.”
“Stop being an ass,” Scarlett muttered, crossing her arms. “And stop staring.”
But Elijah didn’t. His gaze swept over her like he was taking inventory. The dyed red tips of her hair. Her fitted black top and skinny jeans. The way her boots added just enough height to her petite frame. He wasn’t subtle.
“Like what you see?” she shot at him, unable to help herself.
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging with infuriating nonchalance. “Nice hair. Suits you.”
“Thanks,” she said grudgingly, brushing past him toward the exit. “Let’s go. I don’t have all day.”
“Lead the way, Red,” he murmured, falling into step behind her. She could feel his eyes on her back—on her—and her wolf bristled in response.
By the time they reached the car, Scarlett’s nerves were hanging by a thread. She popped the trunk for him, watching as he tossed his bags in with an ease that made her envious. He came around to the passenger side, quirking a brow.
“Need me to open your door?” he asked, voice laced with mockery.
She slid into the driver’s seat without answering, pointedly ignoring the heat of his presence as he settled in beside her.
The drive back to Stratford-Upon-Avon stretched ahead, filled with sharp remarks, teasing glances, and an electricity Scarlett couldn’t shake. Summer had just begun—and already, it promised to be far more complicated than she’d hoped.
