Page 18 of The Witch’s Daughter

“For my…” I swallowed, feeling my Adam’s apple catch, “Birthday?”

She remembered.

Trish’s cheeks flushed as she looked everywhere but my face. “Don’t make it weird.”

But it was already weird.

We had unwritten rules to this dance between us. Lines that weren’t often crossed. And it was usually me who broke them, unknowingly, causing Tisiphone to slip just out of reach again.

Rule one: Nothing serious.

“These smell good.” I lifted the basket and sniffed. “What’s in them?”

Trish huffed. “You’ll have to ask my mom. She made that batch.”

“Your mom made me cupcakes?” I arched a brow. Sage’s powers were known far and wide, especially regarding her food. A witch of intent, she could influence the intentions of others or force her intent with only the touch of her hands. The food she made was infused with her magic, making the café she ran the hit place to be when she was feeling extra festive on certain days.

I sniffed the cupcakes again.

“She wore gloves,” Tisiphone laughed. “There’s no magic in those ones.”

I frowned, even though I loved to hear her laugh. “Was there magic in other ones?”

Her eyes widened when she realized her mistake. “Nope. No other ones.”

“Why would your mom make me cupcakes?” The minute the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back. Too serious. Too many prying questions.

Tisiphone’s eyes darted around the room like a scared, cornered animal and I was blocking her clear exit. Damn it, not again.

Gentle… No sudden movements.

“I… Uh… Burnt…” She stuttered. “I ruined the first batch. Mom offered to help.”

My wolf cocked his head to the side. She cooked for us.

But Trish was already inching toward the door and I panicked, blurting out the first thing I could think of.

“Your hair,” I said. “It’s blue.”

“Very astute.” She rolled her eyes.

“It looks nice,” I said, then quickly caught myself. “How long did it take you to figure that spell out?”

I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I couldn’t argue with the results. Tisiphone stood up straighter and glared at me, no longer a wounded wolf, but the powerful—and pissed off—witch I knew she could be.

“I’ll have you know that getting this particular teal color involves some magical finesse that not even a powerful Alpha warlock like you could figure out.”

“I believe it,” I grinned, grabbing a cupcake from the basket. “Is it intentional?”

“Of course it is.” She did a little dramatic flip of hair over her shoulder, and then finally relaxed.

I felt the tension ease from my shoulders too. “So… What was my birthday surprise going to be?” I studied a cupcake in the light. “I got yet another new travel bag, by the way, and the strap already broke.”

Trish giggled a little. The sound was music to my ears. “I seriously don’t even know how that happened. And the cupcakes wouldn’t have been so bad.”

“Not that bad?” I placed my hand over my heart, offended. “No magical bout of mange? No mildly annoying and stubborn ten-pound weight gain? No… Bunny tail?”

“I’m not that cruel.” She was still smiling. “Besides, attacking the Alpha of Cadejo might be considered an act of warfare. I just thought you could use some extra sparkle in your life.”