Her Spellbound Wolf

“Oh, hell no.” Kiera, my best friend
and roommate, stood in the middle of the living room with her arms crossed
against her glittery chest. “You are not sitting home in your pajamas like you
don’t have plans on New Years’ Eve.”

“I do have plans. Every New Years’
Eve, I watch the Twilight Zone marathon, eat popcorn, and drink champagne. It’s
called tradition.” I smiled sweetly at her and raised my red plastic cup. I’d
broken with tradition already. The champagne cork was meant to be popped at
midnight. This year I needed an IV hookup.

Kiera rolled her eyes, seeing right
through my bullshit. “That’s because you never had plans with a bunch of hot
wolves before.”

“You have plans with a hot wolf. I
do not.” My next sip was more like a gulp. Anything to erase the pain of the
invite that didn’t come. Ever since our alpha-ordered werewolf protective
custody courtesy of the Channing brothers ended, I hadn’t seen as much of
Dallas as I would’ve liked.

Kiera sat next to me on the couch,
pulling the blanket away from my lap and folding it neatly. “Yes, you do. So
what? Dallas didn’t hand you an engraved invite—"

“Exactly.” I snatched the blanket
back.

“Let me finish. Do you have any idea
how he looks at you? No, you don’t, because you’re not giving him a chance. I
actually felt bad for him on Christmas. He seemed frustrated, and so sad.”

Now I couldn’t look at Kiera,
either. The black and white images on the TV blurred in front of me. “I won’t
chase him. I’m sure he has a date.”

“You don’t know that. And so what if
he does. Get out of your pajamas, doll yourself up, and come to The Redheaded
Stepchild with us. Dallas will forget anyone else is in the room as soon as he
sees you. If he doesn’t, make him forget. Let him chase you. Have a little fun
with it.”

My heart raced, lungs constricted.
The Redheaded Stepchild was the seventh ring of my own personal Hell. Loud,
crowded, and I’d be like the fifth wheel if I actually went. Watching everyone
kiss at midnight, standing alone, all awkward and shit. Nope, not going. Me and
the aliens on TV were going to be a thing tonight and that’s all there was to
it.

“No one will leave you by yourself.
We’ll all be there. Together. Don’t think of it like a date. Think of it as
having fun with your friends.” That was real easy for Kiera to say, since she
had a date.

“Maybe another night.”

Kiera got up without saying
anything, but I knew she wasn’t giving up. I didn’t know her before we were
roommates, but she said she was feeling a lot more like her old self. The
person she was before she wound up at CAST, the Center for Anxiety and Stress
Therapy. The one who disabled bombs in the army and worked for the Secret
Service. Problem was, I was feeling like the girl I was before I went to CAST
too. The one who never left the house and went days without talking to anyone.
Worse, that was what I wanted. I was slipping, and it scared the hell out of
me. Everyone around me was getting better, and I should’ve been too. Tonight
would magnify my failure. I wished I could’ve told her.

She placed a plastic mailing bag on
my lap when she returned. “I planned to give it to you on Christmas, but it
came late. I saw it when I ordered this sweater. It’ll look so pretty with your
eyes.”

I pulled an aqua top of the bag. It
was gorgeous, just the type of thing I would love to wear on New Year’s Eve. If
I were going to leave the house. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Try it on. For me. Put some of that
sparkly eyeshadow on, you do such a nice job on your makeup. I promise you’ll
feel more like going when you’re all dressed up. Then come out with me and
let’s show Granger Falls what’s up. If Dallas doesn’t want to kiss you when the
ball drops, or whatever happens, I’ll make out with you. And if that doesn’t
get the attention of every wolf in the room, then that’s their problem, not
ours.”

I laughed. Kiera had a way of making
it impossible to say no. It was exactly what I needed. I could get drunk on her
enthusiasm if the bubbly hadn’t gone straight to my head. I already alienated
Dallas, and the self-destructive devil on my shoulder smirked in victory. I
hated that little bitch. But I couldn’t lose Kiera. And it was happening. She
was so excited about the house Baron was building for the two of them. I needed
to dig my fingernails in and hold on to her with everything I had, or that
little devil would take everything.

So I got ready to go out, ignoring
the voice inside that taunted me, the one that told me I’d be the only one
there alone, that my friends weren’t really my friends, and they’d abandon me,
just like everyone else did. The mascara wand shook in my hand, and I was
thankful I’d bought the waterproof kind.

“You look hot.” Kiera wolf-whistled
when I came into the room. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“I feel kinda hot.” I really did.
The shirt had a draped neckline, loose sleeves, and it came down to my hips.
The one pair of jeans I had that I didn’t wear to the shelter fit perfectly
underneath it, and I pulled my boots out of the back of my closet. My feet
would be killing me by the end of the night, so it was a pretty good thing I
planned to keep drinking.

Kiera grinned. “You should feel
smokin’ hot. I’m psyched you’re coming. I would’ve dragged you though, just so
you know. I couldn’t bear the thought of New Year’s Eve without you.”

And that’s why she was my best
friend. She loved me even at my worst. “I know. This year’s been pretty
incredible, and we need to send it off in style.”

“There she is! My girl is back,”
Kiera said with a little jump. “I knew the shirt would make you feel better.”

I giggled. “It does, but I’m not
gonna lie. The champagne is definitely helping.”

Baron, Kiera’s date, knocked on the
door before letting himself in. I pushed down the disappointment that he was
alone. Dallas was his brother. And I’d chased him away.

Kiera pulled Baron into a kiss, then
turned back to me. “I don’t care what does the trick. You know what they say
about New Year’s Eve. What you do at midnight is how you’ll spend the rest of
the year. Let’s set the night on fire.”

I downed the rest of the champagne
in my cup. Liquid courage, keep it coming. “Let’s do it.”