My friend lays her hands on my shoulders. “It’s the seventh night of the Sacred Seven. This last evening of seclusion is basically a formality for lycans.”

I shake my head. I heard Kane’s roughened voice only hours ago; he sounded like he was only partially holding on to his humanity. “This isn’t a formality,” I insist. “They need this night too.”

Another bolt of desire courses through me. My panties are drenched, and this was an uncomfortable enough situation when I was lusty around a bunch of ghosts and coven sisters. But we must smell like sex and magic, and any shifter out tonight will notice. We’re lingering out here like bait.

The lycans have extended me protection, but there is no protection against getting bitten on their land.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I don’t want to be here.”

I glance around again. Which way is home?

I can’t tell.

Ahead of the group, a twig snaps, and my eyes flick to the sound. There in the darkness, I catch sight of three pairs of luminous eyes.

I freeze.

It’s enough to temporarily cut through the haze of my lust.

Sybil follows my gaze, her hands falling from my shoulders as several shadowy forms prowl forward. Olga sends up an orb of light, and under the reddish hue of it, I can see—fuck—five wolves.

“Sawyer?” Sybil says.

One of the wolves flicks his ears. He stalks forward, past Olga and Mai, who look a little less eager to play with shifters now that their massive animal forms are this close.

Drunk Sybil, however, shows no such reservation. She rushes forward, causing some of the other wolves to growl. Heedless of the danger, she throws her arms around the wolf she thinks is Sawyer.

I go stone-cold sober for an instant as visions of my best friend getting mauled fill my mind. But shockingly, the wolf begins to lick what it can of Sybil’s arm. It bows its head, nudging her with its snout, and its form shifts before our eyes. Hair recedes into skin, claws become nails, paws lengthen into hands and feet. The wolf’s back broadens and its face rounds.

When it’s over, a naked man kneels in Sybil’s arms, his skin coated in sweat, his breathing labored.

He glances up, and yeah, it is Sawyer. Sybil squeals and hugs him tighter, gyrating against him while he breathes in her scent.

I nearly forgot about Sawyer—Sybil hasn’t talked much about the shifter since they got together a couple weeks ago, but it’s obvious now that she has a thing for him…and that he has a thing for her.

He nips lightly at her throat, and I tense, my magic beginning to pour out of me.

Infatuated or not, I will rip him off her if he dares⁠—

A growl cuts through my thoughts, dragging my attention away.

The largest wolf of the pack slinks forward, its gaze fixed on me as it takes slow, tentative steps. I can feel power in its gaze—it makes me want to kneel, to bare my neck, to submit. The shifter is making it abundantly clear that I’m not to fuck with its pack mate.

I fight the compulsion—the last thing I want is to make myself even more vulnerable before a pack of wolves—but I do drag my magic back into me. Once I do, the growling dies down.

The shifter, however, continues to slink forward, and without meaning to, I tense all over again.

“Don’t run,” Sawyer says softly from where he holds Sybil. “If you need to back up, do it slowly.”

I draw in a shuddering breath and nod. My skin is tingling in a decidedly unwanted way now that I’ve gained the attention of a fucking wolf.

Not just any wolf, I realize as I study its eyes. I remember looking at those lupine eyes only a couple of weeks ago.

“Kane,” I whisper.

At the sound of his name, he goes very, very still. A low sound comes from his throat. It’s close to a whine.

Shit, it is him.

Sawyer turns to Sybil and brushes aside one of her dark, silky locks. “I can’t believe you came,” he says quietly, though we can all hear him. “None of you are supposed to be here.” He doesn’t sound mad about that.

“My friends were interested in…getting to know your friends tonight,” Sybil says.

In response to her words, Kane’s ears flick.

He makes another whine that sounds almost…happy? His tail wags once, and I think I’m supposed to feel reassured by this?

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the other wolves approaching Mai, with her breasts bare, and Olga, whose corset is now loosened and partially sliding off her. They should be retreating—we all should be retreating—but instead Mai is beginning to stroke the valley between her breasts, and Olga is slipping her arms out of what’s left of her outfit.

I can practically smell the sex in the air.

This is such a terrible idea. I’m drunk and my pussy is pounding with need, but even I can see that.

Unfortunately, no one else seems to think so. Sawyer has lifted Sybil into his arms, the two making out as he wraps her legs around his waist while those damn wings of hers flutter away. No sooner has he gotten her into his arms than he lopes away into the darkness.

One of the other wolves is shifting, and a now topless Olga is petting one of the lycans who’s remained in animal form.

I glance back at Kane, who has moved closer, his eyes fixed on me and his snout lifted as he scents the air.

I swallow, sure that he’s smelling me. My scent and the wetness that’s soaked my panties.

“Kane.” I lick my dry lips “I’m not…”

At the worst possible moment, another surge of desire floods my body, and I gasp, locking my knees to keep myself upright.

Kane’s lupine form stills as though he’s aware of exactly what’s going on with me. Abruptly, he swings around to the rest of the group and growls menacingly at them, his hackles rising.

My heart ratchets up at the sound, and I begin backing up. Maybe, while he’s busy being weirdly territorial, I can just…disappear.

At the sound of Kane’s growl, a freshly shifted lycan steps in front of Olga, guarding her with his body and slowly backing the both of them up.

“Relax, Halloway, we’re leaving.”

Leaving?

“Wait! No one needs to go!” But even as I speak, my coven sisters and the shifters who’ve caught their eyes slip away into the darkness. I hear a couple breathy laughs, a handful of whispered words, a moan, then—nothing.

Un-fucking-believable.

I turn my attention back to Kane, who’s studying me with those glinting blue eyes of his. My breath picks up, this time for entirely nonsexual reasons. It was distressing enough to face down my crush’s wolf when he was injured, but now, when the two of us are alone in the woods and Kane’s under the sway of the moon and his beast’s instincts, it’s somehow worse.

It doesn’t help that I’m very drunk and even more aroused.

Kane approaches me, his eyes tracking my every move. The witch’s brew is still hitting my system, and I can feel heat and need and magic moving through my blood. It’s overwhelming my misgivings.

I put my hands out in a placating gesture. “I don’t know how much you can understand, Kane, but we’re friends, and I know I smell…weird.” Read: like a horny badger. “I honestly just want to get back to my coven’s festivities,” I say, fighting the urge to back up. “If you let me, I’ll leave⁠—”

At that, Kane gives a low growl.

“Or I could stay,” I add.

His growl dies down.

I guess he wants company.

I try again, breathing through the throb of my desire. “Kane, I know we didn’t get our moment,” I say, now edging back a little.

He prowls forward, aware of the distance I’m trying to create. He’s having none of it.

“And,” I continue, “I like you—a lot—but…” My words lapse into a moan as my arousal spikes once more. My breasts feel so heavy, and my core keeps clenching around nothing. “But it’s still the Sacred Seven, and I’m waiting for someone else⁠—”