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

Max's POV

I forced a tight, close-lipped smile, my jaw ticking as I looked at Dallas.

A look that, if she had even an ounce of self-preservation, she would've understood as What the actual hell, Dallas?

But of course, she just blinked up at me, all wide-eyed and innocent.

Like she hadn't just detonated a nuclear bomb in the middle of the table.

My mother's sharp voice cut through the silence.

"Max—" she said, in that tone. The one that made me feel like a damn kid caught sneaking out. "I can't believe you didn't tell me."

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

What the hell was I supposed to say?

That my fake fiancée just fake announced she was fake pregnant?

And that I had no idea what the hell she was doing anymore?

Yeah. That'd go over well.

I shot Dallas another look, hoping to see some glimmer of an exit strategy forming in that scheming little brain of hers.

Instead, she turned to my mother and—smiled.

A soft, sheepish, sweetheart-of-the-pack kind of smile that instantly disarmed every woman at this table.

"We wanted to." Her voice was gentle, like this was some big heartfelt secret. "We just...weren't sure when the right time was."

I nearly choked.

Was she serious?

Was she really standing here, telling my whole family we were having a baby together? I wouldn't lie— my wolf fucking loved the idea.

Mom's eyes softened immediately. "Oh, honey. I wish you would've known you could come to us."

Dallas sighed dramatically, as if she were so burdened by this fake, self-imposed tragedy.

"I know," she said, patting my mother's hand.

Patting. My mother's. Hand.

I stared at her, barely resisting the urge to throw my chair back and haul her outside to demand what the hell she was doing.

Nancy Lockwood was still recovering, blinking rapidly like she was trying to keep up.

Aunt Sarah, meanwhile, looked like she was seconds away from knitting baby booties.

And then Nana finally reached the table, eyes sharp, her gaze bouncing between Dallas and me.

And then—the killing blow.

She smiled and patted Dallas' hand, "You should be marked as soon as possible."

Dallas went rigid.

So did I.

Mom perked up. "You're right! That is our priority now."

Aunt Sarah suddenly looked like she might be ill. "Yes, for Dallas's safety. And the baby's. It was a miracle that Evelyn and baby Nathan are okay after that fiasco. But who's to say that our Dallas would fair that well."

The baby.

Right.

The baby that didn't exist.

Dallas's fingers twitched against the table.

I looked at her. Really looked at her.

And for the first time since she'd opened her damn mouth, I saw it.

The flicker of uncertainty.

The tiniest hesitation.

She'd pushed too far—and now, she was realizing she couldn't take it back.

And me?

I wouldn't saved her.

I could've been the good guy, could've stepped in and ended it right then and there.

But no.

Because if she was going to play dirty?

So was I.

I tilted my head, keeping my voice smooth—and placed my palm on her flat stomach. "I couldn't imagine losing either of you. I think Aunt Sarah's right. If you're okay with it sweetheart. I'd like to take care of it tonight."

Dallas's head snapped toward me so fast I thought she'd get whiplash.

Her eyes were huge.

But then a wicked smile spread over her mouth and she raised her eyebrows before saying, "You're absolutely right Max.

Minutes later, we stood at my truck.

I wanted to pull my hair out with the way I was having to fight my wolf to convince him that there was no baby and Dallas wasn't actually in any danger.

"What's wrong Max?" She had the nerve to ask like she hadn't thrown me into full on chaos.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose.

She should've been squirming by now, should've been backtracking, looking for a way out. Because this? This was too far.

But instead—Dallas smiled.

Not nervous. Not forced. Just smooth, easy, dangerous.

And I felt my wolf bristle beneath my skin.

Because this was it.

This was the moment he was waiting for.

My mother cleared her throat, looking between us like she was still processing everything.

"You two be careful." Soft. Careful. Excited. Hopeful. I could feel the wait of her expectation.

Dallas stiffened just slightly.

And I saw it—the tiniest hesitation.

The first crack in her armor.

But then she did what she always did.

"Max will take good care of us— he always does," she said lightly, brushing her fingers up my arm like she wasn't about to light my whole damn world on fire.

My jaw ticked.

She was still playing.

Still trying to push me first.

Still waiting for me to be the one to stop this.

But she didn't understand.

She had never understood.

This was never a game for me.

This? This was everything.

I leaned in, brushing my lips just barely against the shell of her ear, letting my words land like a blow.

"That's right and tonight is no different. Just wait and see how well I take care of you."

Her fingers tightened on my arm.

Her pulse skipped.

And just like that—I had her.

Dallas swallowed hard, eyes flicking to mine.

She was waiting for the punchline.

For me to smirk, for me to laugh, for me to let her off the hook.

I didn't.

Instead, I reached up, tracing just barely along the column of her throat—right where my mark should be.

"Let's go," I murmured.

"Why wait— do it now." The words came out of her mouth with that smirk that wasn't quite a dare. And the reasonable part of my brain knew she was bating me for some reason, but my wolf didn't need to be told twice.