The stench of burning hair tickled my nostrils. Glaring at the werewolf’s half-shifted hand on the small on my wrist, I concentrated on breathing to keep the fire from engulfing him fully. It’s not as though I’m any good at controlling my powers. Over two months had passed since my sister and I got bewitched and it just got harder and harder to hide the random scorch marks from my mom.

“Would you just stop pouting for two seconds and listen to me?” The fire flared a brilliant blue, forcing Quillan to let go. I sucked my lower lip into my mouth to keep from smiling at the wary look on his face. Werewolves didn’t scare too easily and Quillan was the son of Chicago’s Alpha-a leader of the wolf pack. “You are taking this whole thing way out of context.”

“What context? Your sister said that I was a dangerous freak and you agreed.” Granted, his twin Ruby had said this after I’d set their backyard on fire, but that wasn’t the point.

“I didn’t agree with her, I just…”

“Agreed not to ‘have any interactions with the warlock until such time as she can control her magic.’” I quoted, lowering my voice to sound more like Quillan’s father. Quillan’s jaw set, the muscles in his neck straining.

“I didn’t want you to hear that.”

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