“There’s nothing that could have stopped me from meeting with you, dear.” Gwen seemed to really mean it. “I’m just so relieved you’ve finally reached out to me. I thought for sure you would never… well… embrace your heritage.”
“I’m not a witch,” Olivia said hastily. Too hastily. And it sounded pretty defensive. “I mean, I’m not a practicing witch. Because… well…”
“It’s because of the fire, dear. I know.” Her aunt’s lovely face drew down in what looked like genuine compassion. Olivia didn’t know her at all, not really, but that single look and those words… she couldn’t keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.
“Oh, you poor, poor thing. Going through all of that alone. And with no one to guide you in your magical development.” She looked like she wanted to hug Olivia again, but Olivia knew all too well that a witch’s touch was her most potent weapon.
She folded up her arms to dissuade Aunt Gwen from any such ideas. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, Aunt Gwen, but I need your help. With a spell.”
“A spell?” Her perfectly-shaped eyebrows lifted. “Indeed. Sounds like something we should discuss in my office.” She ushered Olivia past the receptionist’s desk, down the hall, and into an exquisitely decorated office that looked out over the bay. The furniture was all burnished dark woods, and an entire wall was lined with bookcases, only instead of books, there were dozens of jeweled containers in every shape and size.
Once the door was closed, Gwen said, “Whatever you need, dear, I’m sure we can take care of it. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“Not exactly.” Olivia frowned. She hadn’t really given thought to how to phrase this. “I need to break a curse.” That seemed like a good place to start.
Gwen’s green eyes flashed. “Has someone put a curse on you, Livvy?” It was her nickname from when she was just a child, and it speared Olivia with memories that tore into her heart.
She cleared her throat. “No, I promise. This is for a friend. Another witch put a curse on him, and I need to break it.”
The fiery anger went out of her aunt’s eyes. “Well, I’m glad to hear it’s not you, dear. I’m afraid I might have had some serious issues with a witch who dared to curse my niece.”
A warm feeling flooded Olivia’s chest, threatening to bring back the tears. No one had looked out for her in a long time. Except Jaxson, but that was different. Gwen might be a witch, but she was treating Olivia like she was really family.
Olivia gave her a small smile. “That’s really sweet of you, Aunt Gwen.”
This lit up her aunt’s face. All smiles, she edged a little closer to Olivia, obviously holding herself back from another embrace. “We tend to be very protective of our own, Miss Olivia.” Then she rubbed her hands together with mock glee. “Now tell me what spell we can do to help out your poor, little cursed friend. It’s not every day I get to do magic with my niece.”
Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know what spell would work, precisely. And my friend isn’t exactly little… but he’s been cursed so that he can never take a mate.”
Gwen’s smile evaporated. “A mate. You mean, he’s a shifter. A wolf to be precise.”
Olivia bit her lip. “Yeah. A witch wanted him, and when he said no…”
“She denied him the pleasure of a mate.” Gwen rolled her eyes. “I love my coven sisters, but I swear, some of them can be so dramatic.”
Olivia grimaced. It hadn’t occurred to her that the witch who cursed Jaxson might be in her family’s coven… or a distant relative. It wasn’t like there were millions of witches populating Seattle. The covens were small and generally knew each other. Although Olivia got the sense that they kept their distance.
“Why do you have such an interest in this wolf?” The fire was back in Gwen’s eyes. “Please tell me you’re not tangled up with him. They’re sexual beasts but really not good for much else.”
Olivia straightened. “Jaxson is a good man.”
Her face transformed into a picture of horror, briefly, then melted into a piteous expression. “Oh, dear. You’re in love with the creature.”
Olivia scowled at her aunt’s obvious lack of respect for wolves, but there wasn’t much use in denying it. “Yes.”
She nodded. “And you want him for your own.”
“No.” Olivia glared at her aunt, daring her to question it.
She frowned. “I don’t quite—”