Rhett’s Reservations

Rideten, Present Time

There was no sign of Heath when Rhett went up to the bedroom. There was a fresh arrangement of flowers on the desk and the bed had been made, and that set Rhett’s teeth on edge. The witches didn’t understand werewolves he thought in annoyance as he threw the suitcases onto the bed. Strangers weren’t welcome into a den, and although their stay was temporary, while they were using a room, it was their den.

“Whatever,” he began opening the drawers. He could smell strangers on the clothing as he pulled it out and shoved it into the suitcases. Someone had been through the drawers, refolding the clothing inside. Ignore it, he told himself. Witches were just humans who studied magic, they did weird human things and probably thought that they were helping out.

“Going somewhere?” Phillip stood in the doorway of the room.

Rhett looked up. “What’s it to you?”

“You are always so hostile, Rhett,” Phillip said disapprovingly. “How many times do I have to say that I’m not your