Page 3 of Thankful for You

My stomach growled as I passed a small bakery. Warm, sweet scents drifted out the door—spiced apples, cinnamon, something rich and buttery. I stopped short, inhaling the air without thinking. The hunger hit hard, and before I knew it, my feet were moving on their own, taking me toward the door.

Then I froze. The scent was more than just food. It was… familiar.

I narrowed my eyes, stepping back into the shadow of a nearby tree. I knew this place. Moonlit Bakery. The name didn’t mean much back when I was a kid, but the person who ran it… that was a different story.

Iyonna.

She used to be the witch in town that everyone joked about—always covered in flour, muttering spells under her breath while she stirred pots or kneaded dough. She was a few years younger than me, but we crossed paths more than once. She had that kind of presence that made people notice her, even when she was trying to stay invisible.

I remembered how her magic always seemed to hum around her, like the air itself was listening to her every word. And her eyes—deep, warm brown—were the kind you didn’t forget. The kind that could see right through you if you let them.

I hadn’t thought about her in years, but now, standing outside her bakery, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe I wasn’t the only one trying to stay invisible.

But I didn’t have time to think about witches or old memories. I needed food, and I needed to get out of here. Still, something about the pull of that place made my wolf stir inside me, and a low, restless growl vibrated in my chest. I told myself it was just hunger. Just the smell of fresh bread and pies messing with my senses.

I stepped inside.

The warmth hit me first. The scent of baked goods wrapped around me, chasing away the cold I hadn’t even realized had settled into my bones. There was no one milling around, or chatting. I did see Delilah—another name I remembered. Iyonna’s sister. She was behind the counter.

I scanned the place, keeping my head low, hoping not to see anyone else. I didn’t see Iyonna, and for a split second, I was relieved. But then a strange disappointment settled in my chest, confusing the hell out of me. I wasn’t here for her. I wasn’t here for anyone.

“Can I help you?” Delilah’s voice snapped me back to reality.

I walked up to the counter, pulling my jacket tighter around me. “Yeah. Got any meat pies?”

Delilah smiled. Her eyes flicked over me for a moment, like she was trying to place my face. She probably couldn’t; it’d been years since I last set foot in Charcoal City, and I looked a hell of a lot different now than I did back then. “Sure do. You want one to go?”

“To go’s fine.” I kept my voice low, eyes trained on the display case.

While she wrapped up the pie, I felt the air shift behind me. It was subtle, but unmistakable—the tingling, buzzing sensation that only came when magic was near. My wolf stirred again, this time more urgently. I didn’t have to turn around to know who’d just walked into the room.

Iyonna.

I could feel her presence before I saw her. The way the air seemed to hum around her, the faint crackle of energy that came with every witch. But with Iyonna, it was stronger, more alive. Like her magic had a mind of its own, waiting for her command.

I risked a glance over my shoulder. There she was, stepping out from the kitchen, her hair frizzy and her face flushed with the kind of exhaustion that only came from working nonstop. Flour dusted her apron, and there was a smudge on her cheek she hadn’t bothered to wipe away.

She looked the same, and yet… different. Older, sure. More confident, maybe. Or maybe it was just the weight of the years since I’d last seen her. Either way, my stomach twisted with something I didn’t want to name.

“Here you go,” Delilah said, handing me the pie.

“Thanks.” I shoved a few crumpled bills at her, not really caring if it was too much. I just needed to get out of there before Iyonna noticed me.

But luck wasn’t on my side.

As I turned to leave, I felt her gaze land on me. It was like a bolt of electricity shooting straight through my spine. I kept my head down, but I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever. I didn’t want to.

“Griff?”

Her voice was soft, but with an edge of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite place. I froze in the doorway, my hand on the handle. Part of me wanted to bolt, to pretend I hadn’t heard her. But another part—something deeper, more primal—forced me to turn around.

I met her eyes, and for a second, the rest of the world faded away.

“Hey, Iyonna,” I said, my voice rougher than I’d intended.

She stared at me for a long moment, her brows knitting together like she was trying to piece together why I was standing in her bakery after all these years. I could see the questions forming in her mind, but I wasn’t ready to answer them.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, crossing her arms over her chest.