The Modern Witch's Guide to Faking It With a Werewolf

But even as I said "yes," I knew it was a lie. Licking my lips, my gaze drifted to where the water lapped at her chest and moved toward her.

Chemistry was one thing—but what was between us— wouldn't just be sex. It would be earth shattering.

Her eyes were on me, waiting—for what, I wasn't sure. Maybe an explanation. Maybe more.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight as I fought the surge of desire. But this was it—wasn't it? The moment Id been waiting for since I was 16. I wasn't sure which scared me more. The thought that maybe she felt what I did or that maybe she didn't feel anything more than sexual attraction.

Her breath caught, and I saw her lips part like she wanted to say something, but the words never came. The air was heavy, thick with anticipation, and I felt like if I didn't do something now, the moment would slip away, and I'd never get the chance again.

I shifted closer, my body betraying my hesitation. I couldn't let this pass. Not now.

"Dallas," I whispered, her name falling from my lips like a plea.

She didn't answer right away, her eyes flicking down to the space between us before meeting mine again. There was something there, something vulnerable and raw that I hadn't seen before. It made my heart twist in my chest.

"Max, I..." Her voice was barely audible, trembling with uncertainty. "I don't know if—."

My hand reached out on instinct, gently brushing her lips. Silently begging her not to say the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

And yet she didn't pull away. And damnit —that— was enough for me.

I leaned in, slow, giving her every chance to stop me if she wanted to. But she didn't. She stayed, her eyes locked on mine, and just before our lips met, I whispered, "just once— let me."

And then I kissed her. My hands slipping into her hair as I pulled her to me. I was desperate for this woman. Needed her to need me— to feel everything that I did.

But this wasn't just a kiss—it was everything. A surge of energy rippled through me the second our lips touched. It was like fire igniting, spreading from my chest, down to my fingers, until every part of me felt consumed by her. I burned for her, and I would make her know this.

The air around us shifted, charged with something electric and wild. I could feel it, humming under my skin, crackling through the space between us, as if the very earth recognized what we were. What we could be.

And then, as I tasted her deeper, the world burst into vibrant color. Her hair whipped around us, caught in the force of something far beyond either of us. It was like we had crossed an invisible threshold, where everything we were collided in an explosion of raw power.

Suddenly, she jerked back, eyes wide in shock, and for a second, I wasn't sure what I was seeing.

The world around us had shifted into a spiral of chaos. Wind whipped violently, and the water from the hot tub churned, swirling around us like a damn cyclone. It defied everything—gravity, logic—everything I knew.

Dallas stood there, staring down at her hands, her expression twisted with disbelief. As if those hands didn't belong to her anymore. As if they belonged to something unholy, something dangerous.

On instinct, I grabbed her hands, gripping them tight. The moment my skin touched hers, the storm surged—a violent crash as the water slammed back into the tub with a force that made the whole structure shake.

Her wide eyes met mine, filled with a mixture of fear and confusion, and I knew—just like that—the moment was gone.

The world had shifted, and there was no going back.

I stood there, still holding her hands, feeling the residual energy buzz between us. The weight of it all, whatever the hell just happened, settled over me like a heavy cloak. I wasn't sure what to say, or if words even existed for this kind of thing. All I knew was the woman in front of me was no longer the same. Maybe I wasn't either.

Dallas ripped her hands from mine, backing away like I'd burned her, crossing her arms over her chest. She stared at me, her eyes wild, frantic, like she was trying to make sense of the chaos that had just unfolded. Like she was trying to reconcile the magic that was undeniably inside her.

"What did you do to me?" Her voice was a strangled whisper, eyes flicking between me and the now-still water, disbelief etched into every line of her face.

"I didn't—" I stopped, raking a hand through my hair, the words sticking in my throat. "Dallas, I didn't cause that."

Her breath hitched, and I could see her shaking. Fear. It was all over her, like she couldn't trust her own skin anymore. Hell, I didn't know if I could.

She stumbled back, still clutching her arms around herself like she needed to hold herself together. "No. This isn't... I don't have this kind of magic, Max. I can't—"

But she did. I'd felt it. We'd both felt it. There was no denying it.

I stepped toward her, slow, cautious. "Dallas, it wasn't me. This... this was you."

Her gaze snapped up to mine, eyes wide with something between disbelief and terror. She shook her head violently, refusing to believe it, to accept it.

"No." Her voice cracked. "I'm not—I'm not like that."

I closed the distance between us, trying not to spook her. My hand hovered near her arm, hesitating. "I mean it was wild— but— you are a witch.  I don't see the big deal."  I'd never seen her exhibit any type of powers beyond simple things like lighting candles and her potion making. 

She looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw the shift—the vulnerability, the raw confusion. Her breath came out in short bursts, like she was trying to reel in the panic, trying to make sense of the madness.

"That type of magic is prohibited," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "The Grand Coven would lock me up if they knew."

I reached out and gently cupped her cheek, feeling her flinch at the touch, I dropped my hand.  "It was just a fluke." I whispered. 

She swallowed hard— and I could tell she wasn't convinced. Hell, I wasn't convinced either, but I didn't let that show.