Chapter Fifty-Seven
JACE
The doorbell rings.
What. The. Fuck.
I glance sharply at Morgan. “Did you contact anyone?”
She’s naked and half asleep in the bed beside me. “Who? When?” She throws a pillow at me. “Yeah, I grabbed up the landline while we were switching positions.”
I snort.
“Stupid question, wolf.”
She’s right. Neither of us have left each other’s sight for hours.
“It’s probably the guys,” she says. “Doordash or Uber Eats or something.”
“Yeah, probably.”
But I don’t think so.
A few seconds later, there’s a knock at the door. “Hey Jace…you’re going to want to come out for this.”
I push from the bed slowly and draw on my jeans.
“Stay here,” I tell Morgan.
But she’s already standing and getting dressed too. That’s probably for the best. She isn’t a wolf, she can’t shift the way we can to protect our bodies.
“Relax, puppy–”
“Oh no you didn’t…”
She laughs.
With a twirl of her hand, the bed and everything in this room is set to rights. As she follows me out of the room, she’s chanting something.
It feels like a physical wall of energy that pulses through the room and moves into Morgan. She’s gathering her power and it is intense.
“I take it this isn’t a food delivery,” I say to my men.
They shake their heads.
Okay then. We have a potential threat on the other side of that door.
“Remember,” she says quietly, “no one who wishes harm can pass.”
Michail acts like he’s stomping a staff into the ground. He raises his arms. “You shall not pass!” He gives his best Gandalf imitation.
We chuckle at that.
“Seriously though,” Morgan says. “We are safe here. Stay inside. We’re only vulnerable if we step outside these walls.”
“On three,” I tell them.
“One, two…”
Jacob opens the door.
Before I can catch her–Morgan runs outside.
“Damn it, woman!” I yell and lunge after her. This witch is quick and I stop short when I see her hugging someone.
“What are you doing here?” she gushes, and there is such joy in her voice.
I stop short. That ‘someone’ is roughly five-foot-three and maybe a buck twenty. She has short spiky blonde hair, no, not blond, white. Her skin is smooth but there are crinkles at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. She gives me a once-over then winks.
When Morgan finally releases her, she steps back and swipes at tears. “Come in, come in, Nonna.”
Grandma???
I step back and so do the other guys. We fan out in the living room and Nonna walks in. Morgan holds her grandma’s hand and the gesture is almost childlike in its innocence, she is so happy to see this woman.
“My, oh my,” Nonna exclaims. She stares at each of my men in turn. When her gaze lands on me and rather shamelessly appraises my bare chest, I actually feel myself blushing. I don’t think I’ve ever blushed before.
She pat’s Morgan’s hand. “Oh darling, I do love me some wolves.” Her dark eyes swing to Morgan. “If I’d known you were entertaining, I would’ve worn my 70s self glamour.”
Morgan laughs. “Nonna! Behave.”
The older woman snorts.
I like her instantly.
Morgan makes introductions before guiding us all into the kitchen where we sit or stand around the central island.
Michail resumes eating a slice of pizza.
Jacob watches the interplays intently, cataloging details and assessing the situation. Declan offers Nonna something to drink. She smiles fondly at him.
“There isn’t much time,” she tells us.
Morgan and I glance at each other. “You know why we’re here?” she asks.
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