Chapter 40

Lila’s POV

“How the heck did you know to stock this?” I asked, waving a hand at the cabinet so dramatically it could’ve earned a spot on a cooking show. Beside me, Rowan—my personal werewolf roommate/slightly terrifying shadow—tilted his head, ears perked, as if I’d just asked him to solve quantum physics instead of pick nail polish shades.

“I mean,” I continued, digging through rows of pastel bottles, “purple glitter? Shimmery teal? Were you spying on my Pinterest?” My voice echoed in the kitchen; it might’ve been the mallard prints on the ceiling, but I swear I heard a snort of amusement.

Rowan padded forward, fully intending to close the gap and—God forbid—lick my cheek like a Pavlovian puppy. I shot him a “back off” hand signal, and magically, he froze.

“Thanks for the… restraint,” I said, tossing a lavender bottle at him. “But seriously, this is nuts. You’re a wolf, this is a cabin in the woods, and I’m basically the world’s most unwilling beauty