Black Willow Witch

by Suzanne Wright

Genres: Fantasy Romance

Synopsis

"Be the biggest, baddest witch in town so no one ever dares bully you again." That was her grandmother's advice and it's been Emberlyn's law since she was a child. It's kept the local coven at bay - until now...

They're furious she won't give up Black Willow Manor, her grandmother's prized home and worse - that the land beside it and Emberlyn herself has been left to Jax 'Ripper' Stone, a rugged, brooding Alpha werewolf.
The chemistry between them has always been white hot but Ripper knows to be careful with witches- especially one with her reputation. Now they are allies it becomes harder to ignore - Emberlyn calls to him. Drives him to claim her. But danger's closing in, threatening to take her from him.

Not that Emberlyn can't handle it. She's no damsel. Doesn't need a hero. Sometimes, it takes a wicked witch to get things done. And Emberlyn has ever excelled at being wicked.

Welcome to Chilgrave... HEA guaranteed!

Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group

Print pages: 120000

Sample

Her heart beating superfast, Emberlyn sprinted up the hill. Her leg muscles burned, but she didn’t stop.

So close. They were so close. Running. Panting. Laughing.

They were always laughing. Always whispering and pointing and saying mean stuff to her at school.

Every day they came at her. Shoulders shoved into hers. Feet tripped her up. Stuff got tossed at her head. Hands ‘accidentally’ knocked her pens off the table. And always, always, they’d laugh and call her ‘pathetic’.

Sometimes, other kids in her class laughed along. It made her feel small, embarrassed and alone.

Emberlyn had told her teacher about it. He’d promised to ‘have a word’ with Tyra and her four flying monkeys. But if he had talked to them – and maybe he hadn’t, since Tyra was the daughter of his High Priestess – it hadn’t made a difference.

Then, just yesterday during recess, Tyra had pushed her so hard that she’d fallen into a puddle that had left her with a cold, wet butt.

And again, they’d laughed.

‘You might as well stop, freak!’ yelled Sera, Tyra’s cousin. ‘There’s nowhere to go!’

Well there was somewhere, but Emberlyn wouldn’t be heading into Bloodhill Forest. Not many did – the bullies behind her had nothing on the creatures that roamed it. She just wanted to reach the top of the hill. So she ran and ran and ran, never looking back; worried she’d otherwise trip. But she sensed that they were gaining on her.

She’d known that they would track her down after school today – they’d been angry that she’d talked to the principal again. Not that it had helped. They’d denied everything, and it was her word against theirs. Emberlyn’s word meant nothing to the coven.

Why?

Because she wasn’t part of it, much like her grandmother – a woman they both feared and resented. Okay, so they were right in claiming Millicent was ‘into some pretty dark stuff’ and that she wasn’t the nicest person in the world. But that shouldn’t mean that the coven could be mean to Emberlyn because of it.

When she’d told her grandmother about yesterday’s puddle incident, Millicent’s advice had been simple: If someone pushes you, you push them back harder. A lot harder.

So that’s what Emberlyn would do.

Finally reaching the top of the hill, she came to a stop, raspy breaths bursting in and out of her. She turned on shaky legs, watching as the bullies skidded to a halt.

Tyra smirked, shoving her red braid over her shoulder. ‘Aw, did the little freak run out of steam? How sad.’ She paused, trying to catch her breath. ‘I’d dare you to go cry to your mommy and daddy . . . but you can’t, can you?’

A round of giggles went up, and Emberlyn felt her ears go red.

‘I heard my parents talking about yours,’ said Sera. ‘It isn’t true that your dad got asked to leave town, you know. He cheated on your mom and then left with his side piece.’

Emberlyn did know. Her grandmother had told her all about how she’d cursed that ‘lying, cheating, son of a bitch’.

‘Your mom just couldn’t hack it, could she?’ taunted Tyra. ‘She let herself fade away, not caring that the only person you’d then have would be that psycho you live with. No offense, Ames,’ she added, sliding her gaze to Emberlyn’s very own cousin.

He only grinned. ‘None taken. My Grams is a total psycho – everyone knows that.’

He may think that, but he was super nice to Millicent, the two-faced ass.

Tyra planted her hands on her hips. ‘You got nothing to say, orphan?’

‘Yes.’ Emberlyn smiled sweetly. ‘I just wanted to say “thank you”.’

Tyra’s brows snapped together. ‘For what?’

‘For letting me lure you out here, where no one’ll hear you scream.’ Emberlyn raised her hands and, calling on the lessons that Millicent had given her, sent out her magick in glittering, rippling streams that whirled around and settled on the grass.

Thorny vines sprouted out of the circle of magick . . . then snakes . . . spiders . . . cockroaches . . . toads.

The kids screamed and tried running away but hit an invisible barrier. Trapped, they called to their own magick, zapping the creatures, but it didn’t help. Vines, serpents, insects and toads climbed up their bodies – pricking, biting, stinging.

Two girls started to cry. Sera shrieked like a banshee. Ames fell to the ground, screaming, ‘Get off! Get off!’ at the creatures. As for Tyra . . . she begged Emberlyn to make it stop.

Emberlyn snapped her hands closed, balling them into fists. Like that, the magick settled and the creatures disappeared.

The bullies nervously peeked around, only going quiet when they saw that the hill was clear. Ames awkwardly stood, his knees buckling.

Glaring at them, Emberlyn warned, ‘If there has to be a next time, I won’t make them disappear so fast . . . if at all.’

Eyeing her like they’d never seen her before, they backed up a few steps and then ran off.

Taking a deep breath, Emberlyn lowered her arms back to her sides. Hearing a rustle of grass behind her, she whirled. Her grandmother stood there in one of her black robes, her long gray hair its usual scraggly mess.

‘Not bad, girl, not bad,’ said Millicent, staring down at her through pale-hazel eyes that she’d passed onto Emberlyn. Eyes that people called eerie. ‘The little fuckers sure had it coming,’ she added, anger in every word.

‘You weren’t mad yesterday when I told you what they’d done.’ Millicent hadn’t even looked away from the book she’d been reading on soul stealing.

Millicent frowned. ‘Girl, I was majorly pissed. I came close to infesting their homes with every bug you can think of. But the coven needs to see that you can fight your own battles.’

‘And you were curious to see what I’d do,’ Emberlyn sensed.

Millicent grinned. ‘Something like that. You know, they only pick on you because they fear you and they’re jealous of your potential. They sense that your magick is strong, so they want to make you feel weak. Others from the coven will try to do the same.’ Her face darkened. ‘Don’t let them. Not now, not ever. If they or anyone else comes at you, you make them wish they hadn’t. Be the biggest, baddest witch in town so no one ever dares bully you again.’

‘Wait!’

The word sliced through the air, causing everyone at the gravesite to pause. It was Emberlyn’s aunt who’d spoken, her blue eyes wide, her arms stretched out.

Gill licked her lips. ‘Did anyone check the casket? Just to be sure she hasn’t . . . you know . . . come back?’

Not one person snickered. In fact, some shifted uncomfortably at the thought. If any witch could have found a way to cheat death, it would have been Millicent Vautier.

She had not been well liked at Chilgrave, nor had she made any attempt to be. All Millicent had been interested in was acquiring more power. There were no forms of magick she hadn’t dabbled in, no spells she’d shied away from. She’d had not one problem casting curses, sacrificing animals, invoking demons, working with dark deities or any such shit.

Given the risks that Millicent had consistently taken and the depths of magick she’d explored, Emberlyn considered it an absolute miracle that her grandmother had died a peaceful death – falling into an eternal slumber while taking a nap on a park bench on a warmish March day.

The threads of grief wrapped tight around her heart contracted as she recalled hearing news of Millicent’s passing. It had been a dark day for Emberlyn, who’d loved the woman fiercely regardless of her . . . proclivities.

The High Priestess Reena cleared her throat. ‘Maybe we should take a look.’

Three of Emberlyn’s relatives stepped out of the nearby cluster of mourners.

Not really ‘part’ of the family, Emberlyn stood off to the side with her best friends, Paisley and Kage. The twins were her only real friends, to be truthful.

As people cautiously approached the coffin like it was a ticking bomb, Emberlyn idly swept her gaze over the charmingly gothic cemetery. It was perched on a slight hill, so the lines of headstones were a little higgledy-piggledy. Most of the tablets were granite, but others were concrete and marble – and all in various hues with lawns and flowerbeds. Sun-bleached statues and carvings and other monuments were sporadically placed here and there.

The cemetery’s charm was woven throughout the entire town. Surrounded by lush forests that stretched for miles upon miles, Chilgrave was a patchwork of buildings from various eras . . . and it had once been home to both the first witch and the first werewolf.

There were lots of theories as to how Lilith Vautier – Emberlyn’s ancestor – had come to be a witch. Similarly, there were many stories explaining how her lover, Lupin Stone, had become a werewolf. No one knew the ‘hows’ of it for sure.

Whatever the case, fascinated enough by the fictional stories of preternatural creatures, the couple had sought – and found – a way to become them. Lilith had shared her power with some of her townspeople. Likewise, Lupin had subjected others to the Change, creating more just like him. The coven’s children were subsequently born witches, just as the clan’s offspring were born werewolves. A grave inheritance indeed.

And so here in this town lived the descendants of the original coven and the original clan. It meant they were stronger and more powerful than average witches and werewolves.

Hearing a creak, Emberlyn looked to see her Uncle Dez awkwardly opening the casket. She couldn’t see the interior from this angle, but going by the looks of relief that graced the faces of her relatives, she would imagine that it did still contain a corpse. Then their expressions once again crumpled with fake grief.

Paisley leaned into her, sighing. ‘They already know they were named in the will,’ she whispered. ‘Why are they pretending to give a damn that she’s gone?’

Someone in the crowd snorted. Probably a werewolf. Their hearing was exceptional.

‘They’re all about appearances,’ Emberlyn reminded her, keeping her voice ultra-low.

On her other side, Kage hummed his agreement. ‘I’m betting they’ll break out the champagne and party poppers later.’

Quite possibly. Neither of Millicent’s living children had had much time for her. They’d detached themselves from her when young and moved in with their father, mortified by how she’d become a lone practitioner who’d trodden a sinister path.

It was only Emberlyn’s mother Avery who’d stayed with her as a child. Millicent had had little to do with the raising of Gill and Dez. Little to do with anyone but Avery and then, later, Emberlyn.

Over the years, Emberlyn had absorbed all that Millicent had taught her. She’d explored different forms of magick. She’d encountered the many deities her grandmother had conjured. And she’d taken Millicent’s advice: Emberlyn had become the biggest, baddest – yes, she did know that wasn’t a real word – witch that she’d needed to be in order to keep threats at bay.

But it meant that Emberlyn wasn’t popular among the other witchy folk. Apparently, she made people nervous. Especially when she smiled. So she smiled a lot.

Now that the casket was set to rights, Reena continued reading aloud the blessing. Emberlyn found her gaze shifting to the nearby white tablet adorned with an elegantly pointed arch and ornate tracery. Avery Vautier, loving mother of Emberlyn.

Emberlyn swallowed hard, her gut twisting as she failed to pull up an image of her mother’s face. She couldn’t do that anymore. Couldn’t remember much about Avery. The memories that Emberlyn did have of her mother were so vague they were dreamlike.

‘I know I used to whine about how I could never go to funerals, but . . . yeah, I don’t know why I whined,’ said Kage. Before becoming a werewolf – something that had suppressed his magickal abilities – the once-clairvoyant-witch had had to avoid graveyards. ‘It’s super dull.’

Emberlyn felt a frown tug at her brow. ‘What did you expect? Dancing and drum-beating?’

He shrugged, plucking at his short, russet-brown hair. ‘I don’t know. Maybe some “Safe travels” messages. A We’ll miss you banner. A few goodbye gifts.’

‘We’re mourning her death, not sending her off on a cruise.’

Paisley snorted, mirth dancing in the same moss-green eyes she shared with her twin. Her long hair was slightly darker than his, but it was just as thick. While she was a little over five feet tall, Kage had a longer, leaner build.

‘On a more interesting topic,’ Paisley began, ‘who do you think your grandmother left the manor to?’

Emberlyn puffed out a breath. ‘No idea.’

Normally, copies of wills would be posted to beneficiaries. But Millicent had always had her own way of doing things. She’d drawn up the will herself and given it to her attorney, along with a list of her beneficiaries and strict instructions that the will be read aloud after her funeral. She’d also insisted that it be read aloud by Reena – which was weird, since Millicent hadn’t been part of the coven for a very long time.

No one had been able to peek at the will because she’d spelled the envelope closed. Only a prick of blood from Emberlyn – someone Millicent had evidently felt confident wouldn’t disrespect her wishes – would open it. Reena had ‘suggested’ that Emberlyn could do this beforehand, but she’d firmly refused.

Emberlyn knew why the High Priestess was eager to see the will. Reena wanted to speed along the purchase of the manor. She had been trying to get her hands on it for years, but Millicent would never sell, insisting that it should remain with the Vautier line.

Reena disagreed.

The High Priestess had big plans – it was talk of the town. She not only meant to take over the manor, she also planned to build houses on the expansive stretch of land attached to it. Money had already exchanged hands between her and a construction company run by a werewolf clan.

Either Gill or Dez would inherit the manor, and both were willing to sell it to Reena. As such, she likely would have already started transferring her possessions to the place if she’d been able to get inside. People were having a little trouble with that right now.

‘Gill is awful sure the manor will be hers,’ said Kage.

Yes, Gill and her husband had even urged their daughter Mari to give up her apartment, promising she could have their current home when they moved into one of the soon-to-be built houses. ‘But so is Dez.’

Dez had actually been taunting his ex-wife about how she could have been a very rich woman if only she hadn’t divorced him, because Reena would pay him a ridiculous amount of money to finally be the Lady of Black Willow Manor. Or, as most would more simply term it, Black Willow Witch.

‘Knowing Millicent, she left everything to her cat,’ muttered Emberlyn. ‘Although . . . she wasn’t quite as evil to Mari, so maybe she left the manor to her.’

‘Maybe,’ said Paisley. ‘But there’s something smug about Dez’s idiot son. Like he knows something we don’t. Ames made it his mission to serve her over the past six months. Do you think maybe she was so grateful that she decided to leave him everything?’

Emberlyn frowned. ‘She hated that asshole. She called him “that asshole”.’ Ames hadn’t whatsoever ‘grown up’.

‘She hated everyone,’ said Paisley. ‘You most of all.’

Emberlyn’s frown deepened. ‘Nah, she hated him way more.’

‘All your birthday cards were addressed to, “My biggest disappointment”.’

‘Not over the last few years.’

‘No, they said, “To whom it may concern”. Face it, she hated you most.’

Emberlyn sighed, Millicent’s voice drifting into her head . . .

‘Why do you have to be so damn awkward, Emberlyn? You have so much potential; could access so much more power. The price isn’t that high. Would it really be so awful to sell slivers of your soul?’

Uh, yeah.

But her grandmother hadn’t seen it that way. She hadn’t understood why Emberlyn didn’t harbor the same hunger for power that had taunted her, or why Emberlyn wouldn’t join her in devoting herself so fully to the craft that she had no real life.

After Emberlyn left home at eighteen, Millicent had contacted her very rarely over the years. It had been even rarer for her to return Emberlyn’s calls or answer the door when she visited. But Emberlyn hadn’t taken it too personally – Millicent was like that with everyone.

A particularly loud sob burst out of Gill, who all but stuffed her face into a tissue.

Unreal.

‘If your grandmother’s here watching this performance, she’ll be wanting to dish out a few bitch slaps,’ said Paisley.

Most likely. ‘Millicent claimed she’d never go to her own funeral. Said it’s tacky.’

A soft motorized hum sounded as the casket was slowly lowered to the ground. The backs of Emberlyn’s eyes stung with unshed tears. Dammit, she’d thought that she was all cried out at this point.

Some wouldn’t understand how she could have loved a woman such as Millicent. It was true that she hadn’t been kind or affectionate or loving. But she’d fed, clothed, sheltered and mentored Emberlyn. More, Millicent had made her strong; had ensured that Emberlyn never let others convince her that she was anything else.

It helped to know that her grandmother’s soul wasn’t totally gone, it was merely somewhere else now. A realm where only those who’d passed on could go.

A sniffle popped out of Emberlyn before she could stop it.

Paisley put a hand on her back. ‘You okay?’

‘It’s just allergies,’ Emberlyn lied.

Finally, the motorized hum switched off. The fake weeping coming from her relatives kicked up a notch. No one tossed any soil or flowers on the casket, as if wary of doing anything that might disturb and ‘wake’ the corpse.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ she urged the twins.

The three of them joined the other mourners in making their way down the hill, Emberlyn’s high heels giving her no issues – she’d mastered the art of walking in them long ago.

As they reached her car, Emberlyn tugged her keys out of her black leather purse and—

‘Quick warning,’ Kage whispered, ‘the Reeds are on their way over.’

Emberlyn tensed at the mention of her old in-laws. Shit. Hearing their footfalls behind her, she turned a little woodenly to face them.

Claris flashed her a weak smile, clutching the bottom of her dark braid. ‘We just wanted to say that we’re sorry for your loss.’

His arm curled around his mate’s shoulders, his burly figure all but swallowing hers, Colton said, ‘Michael would be here for you if he could be. And maybe one day he will.’

He looked so much like Michael – the same wide-set brown eyes, same strong nose, same chin dimple, same tawny hair – that it had once hurt to look at him. Not so much nowadays, though.

Emberlyn gave them a wan smile. ‘Thank you.’

They each dipped their chin and then walked away.

A breath easing out of her, she turned to the twins. ‘I never know what to say to them.’ She just felt so awkward around them now.

‘They’re only so nice to you because they think it’ll make you feel guilty about moving on from Michael,’ said Kage. ‘Don’t forget how they initially reacted.’

There had been yelling. Crying. A lot of howcouldyous.

Shoving that scene out of her mind, Emberlyn opened the driver’s door. ‘Let’s go get this will reading over with.’ She slid into the car.

Kage went to hop into the front passenger seat, but Paisley beat him to it, so he slid onto the back row.

Clicking on her seatbelt, Paisley said, ‘I’m still surprised that your grandmother left me and Kage something. We weren’t related to her.’

Emberlyn dumped her purse on the floor behind her seat. ‘No, but she loved annoying people. Said it fed her magick. And Gill, Dez and the others are peeved that she left something to non-relatives.’ Emberlyn gunned the engine. ‘Makes me wonder if there’s anyone else outside the family line who she’d included in her will for funsies.’

Driving to Reena’s home, Emberlyn couldn’t stop her thoughts from drifting back to Michael. Unlike his parents, she had no belief that he’d return one day.

There had been a time when she’d used magick to try to track him; when she’d joined regular search parties or even launched her own. But she had eventually accepted that he was lost.

Unlike shifters, werewolves didn’t have fated mates. They could claim people as their mates, but no preternatural link formed. It was no different from two witches handfasting.

She’d started dating Michael in high school. He’d claimed her a year after they’d graduated. They’d moved in together, started to build a life . . . but things had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

His parents intellectually knew that there was nothing else for her to do but consider the mating null and void – all people did in her situation. Emberlyn got why they didn’t feel good about it, though.

Finally, they neared the Welcome to Bellcrest sign.

There were four neighborhoods in Chilgrave; some separated by large wooded areas, some so expansive their boundaries ‘bumped’ that of other neighborhoods. Bellcrest, filled with Georgian-style homes, was occupied by the majority of the coven.

Each of the three werewolf clans resided at the other neighborhoods – Ashwood, Cedargrove and Elmsbrook. But witches who were mated to a werewolf sometimes lived among their clan, and vice versa.

Emberlyn had lived in Bellcrest as a kid with her parents. Her years spent at Millicent’s manor had situated her just beyond the border of Bellcrest. Emberlyn hadn’t returned to the neighborhood at eighteen, not feeling inclined to rejoin the coven. Instead, she’d moved to the center of the town where the schools, stores and other businesses were located – it was considered neutral territory. Of course, she’d moved in with Michael at Cedargrove when they mated . . . only to return to her apartment in neutral territory after everything fell apart.

Though Chilgrave was reasonably small, anything a person could need would be available here. Which was good because it was hours away from civilization. The town couldn’t be found unless one knew where to look.

Even if any outsiders did manage to stumble upon it, they wouldn’t stay long. There was no cell phone service. No internet. No cable TV.

Personally, she couldn’t imagine having a cell phone. How did anyone get to read a book in peace? Or play the ‘I didn’t know you’d tried calling’ game when they wanted to dodge someone? How draining would it be to feel that you always needed to have something interesting to post on social media sites?

Fair play to them for living in that lane. Emberlyn never could.

‘There’s Mom and Dad,’ said Paisley, waving at the couple through the window.

Kage didn’t bother, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

‘Any progress with your parents?’ Emberlyn asked him.

‘Nope,’ he replied. ‘I’m enjoying the silent treatment while it lasts. They’ll soon be up in my shit, raving about how I’ll regret my choice one day. My only regret is not going through the Change sooner.’ His werewolf-lover had bitten him during sex a few months ago. Instead of using antivenom, he’d let the Change take him.

It did not surprise Emberlyn that Ethel and Thad Sanders were unhappy about their son’s decision. They didn’t have anything against werewolves per se, but they were among the few who considered wolves to be inferior to witches.

‘You don’t miss being able to talk to the dead?’ she asked Kage.

‘Fuck, no. I never got a minute’s peace, and I was tired of helping them cross over. How hard can it be to walk into a goddamn light? It’s not like you can miss it. It’s a light.’

Paisley tossed him a haughty sniff over her shoulder. ‘I still can’t believe you took the Change when you know I’ve been considering it for years. You’ve—’ She gasped as he splattered a teeny fly against the window with his hand. ‘You didn’t have to kill it.’

He wiped his palm on his pants. ‘I don’t like flies. I don’t like insects period.’

‘You need to have more respect for nature,’ Paisley reprimanded. ‘Your problem is that you can’t appreciate the beauty in anything. You should be more like me. There’s no hate in my heart. Only peace and love—’

‘And pure bullshit. You despise lots of stuff and lots of people. Including me.’

‘Why would you ever think that?’

‘Because you told me. Told me every day since you learned to speak.’

Emberlyn inwardly sighed. Neither of the twins were the type to hug, kiss or exchange kind words. Their love language was full of cursing and put-downs and teasing I-hate-yous. They had an airtight bond, but both went out of their way to irritate the other – a childhood habit they’d decided not to shake off, for whatever reason.

‘Enough, we’re here – you can squabble more later.’ Emberlyn pulled up outside Reena’s home. ‘The others beat us to it,’ she noted as she cut the engine, seeing a number of cars parked here.

‘Of course they did.’ Paisley unclipped her seatbelt. ‘They’re eager to find out who Millicent chose to be her main heir.’

More than likely.

‘I think Emberlyn’s right and that she left it all to Lucie,’ Kage chipped in, referring to Millicent’s cat.

Also more than likely.

Exiting the car, the three of them strode up to the front door of the beautiful Georgian home. It was Reena’s husband who opened it. Ward was a strong witch, but not very. Female Chilgrave witches were more powerful by nature, so the coven had always been matriarchal. When a High Priestess handfasted, she rarely allowed her partner to rule alongside her. Most of the time, there was, essentially, only one ‘Alpha’ in the arrangement.

The asocial Ward didn’t smile their way or even say hello. He merely waved them inside, closed the door and then led them through to the spacious parlor.

Inside, Reena sat in a turquoise velvet chair, her posture as regal as always. She was powerful. Charismatic. A good leader. And quite possibly responsible for the false rumors that Emberlyn had traded slivers of her soul for health, beauty and success.

Such a darling.

Well, she still held Tyra’s ‘childhood traumatic incident’ against Emberlyn. As did Sera’s mother, Penelope . . . and just about everyone else. Ha.

There were two matching sofas in the room, one of which had been claimed by Gill, her husband Hank and their daughter Mari. The other sofa was empty. Dez and Ames stood before the grand fireplace, their hands clasped behind their backs.

All aside from Reena looked casual, smug and eager. Their grins cooled when Emberlyn strolled inside.

‘Afternoon all,’ she greeted brightly.

Reena’s mouth hitched up half-heartedly. ‘Ah, you’re here.’ The envelope containing Millicent’s will on her lap, she gestured at the free sofa. ‘Do sit.’

Emberlyn and the twins lowered themselves onto the couch. As she and Paisley placed their purses on the floor, Emberlyn didn’t miss how her family cast her friends snotty looks. They were clearly still annoyed that the twins had been included in the will.

‘I’m just waiting for one more person, and then we can get started,’ Reena added.

Kage cast Emberlyn a quick glance. ‘What person?’ he asked in a whisper.

Emberlyn gave a slight shrug.

Her relatives chatted among themselves as they waited, pointedly ignoring Emberlyn and the twins. Blonde, blue-eyed and curvy, Gill and Mari so closely resembled each other that they looked like the exact same person at different stages of life. There was no sign of the ginger-haired, gray-eyed Hank in his daughter.

Dez and Ames were both handsome in a pretty way – small nose, small chin, naturally possessing very little facial hair. But whereas Dez was blue-eyed with ash-blond hair, Ames had his mother’s brown eyes and dark hair.

Everyone quieted when the doorbell rang. Ward exchanged a look with his wife and then disappeared from the room. Moments later, his muffled voice came from the hallway, along with two sets of footfalls. When he reentered the room, Emberlyn looked at the tall figure behind him—

And her gaze collided with steely honeydew-green eyes that always held an animal alertness. Her belly promptly did a slow roll.

Ripper. Alpha of a werewolf clan. A direct descendant of Lupin and a she-wolf he’d dallied with during one of his and Lilith’s ‘breaks’.

Ripper’s presence alone put people on notice, so there was an instant shift in the atmosphere. Muscles tightened. Backs straightened. The air turned static.

There was not one thing subtle about Jax ‘Ripper’ Stone. Dominance boldly rolled off him. Raw, gritty and unpolished, he took ‘rugged masculinity’ to an entirely new level.

He was totally badass in that hunter-gatherer, mountain-man, could-survive-any-conditions way. He made her think of a grizzly – burly and gruff with the unruffled calm of an apex predator whom you just knew could explode into violence in a mere second. Beneath it all ran a vein of hardcore brutal sexuality that promised all sorts of pleasure.

What he wasn’t, and never had been, was a friend of Millicent. So why she would make him a beneficiary of her will, Emberlyn had no idea.

She studied the reactions of her relatives. They were tense, seeming equally surprised and co