Page 6 of Bloodween

Not the normal warm brown I was used to.

Gold. Bright, glowing, unmistakable gold.

My breath caught.

Oh.

Oh.

The elixir lurched, sudden and violent, like it had woken up from a nap and realized there was food in front of it. Heat spread through my chest, down my arms, into my fingertips.

Werewolf.

Dorian was a werewolf.

“No fucking way,” I breathed.

He was still spiraling, pacing now, hands in his wild fro. “Renna’s gonna kill me. She didn’t tell you the safe word—FUCK.”

“Dro.”

He kept pacing.

“Dro.”

“Did she do this on some petty shit? I swear I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“Dorian!”

He finally stopped, chest heaving, eyes still flashing between brown and gold like he couldn’t control it.

I tilted my head, studying him. “You done?”

“Done? Done?” He gestured wildly at me. “You’re tied up in a cabin. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“But Renna is? Y’all do this type of stuff for fun?”

“Sometimes her wo—” He stopped himself, switching gears. “I promise I ain’t mean to take you.”

“Well. You did.”

“Not on purpose!”

“Still counts,” I taunted.

He made a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl, and I watched his hands flex—watched his fingers twitch like he wanted to shift but was fighting it.

Definitely newly turned.

I had already figured that out, but his lack of control was also a tell-tale sign.

The pieces clicked into place. Three and a half months ago, he’d been human. Renna had been the werewolf. I’d confirmed it, filed my ritual approval, started planning.

And then this idiot went and got himself turned.

Sucks for him. Perfect for me.

And well… Renna too I guess.