Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Author’s Notes

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Books By Michael Anderle

CHAPTER ONE

Anastasia Drakethorn thought when she left her law firm in the city, she would have less paperwork on her hands. She’d been dead wrong. So wrong that she would have preferred a fight with a werewolf to the tedious task of filling out her personal information on one government form after another.

The financial paperwork regarding the transfer of Catherine Thorn’s estate to her daughter was one thing, but the papers before her now were another matter entirely. Stacy decided she would be more than happy if she never had to look at another business registration form again after today.

“I’ll take extensive property law amendments over this any day,” she grumbled to no one in particular, not forgetting that such things had once been the bane of her existence.

She was the only person inside her newly inherited estate office, a small cottage-like building on the property where her mother’s old manor house stood. The estate manager, Rowan, had called the cottage a shed with a rueful look that said he didn’t understand why anyone would want to set up an office there.

To Stacy, however, it was the best damn shed she had ever seen, with full insulation, hardwood floors, and floral wallpaper. It had a mini-kitchen and a half bath, for fuck’s sake. She had shoved a desk, a chair, and several shelves quickly filled with books inside it.

Though cozy and ornate, her office inside the house did not have the fresh scent of roses directly outside it. She liked this corner of the estate where everything was quieter, and no one but the sprites were around to disrupt her work.

And disrupt it they did. Stacy often found the tiny manor guardians carrying off papers and pens in groups of four or five, then chittering in amusement when she swatted them away. When hunting for missing sticky notes, she often found them under her desk or piled in a corner with a sprite dozing on top.

Yet she didn’t have the heart to banish them from her office. Not only were they cute and provided great amusement, but they had been around for far longer than she had. If anyone had a right to flit around the shed-cottage, it was them.

When she spent time here, Stacy threw open the windows to allow in the pleasant summer air and golden sunlight. An actual shed elsewhere on the grounds housed various lawn and garden equipment. Not that they needed it, she remembered, since Rowan had used magic over the years to maintain the place.

A proper groundskeeper would be needed soon, though. Rowan was handling far too much as the estate manager and personal bodyguard to the women who lived in the manor house. Yet another thing she needed to take care of today. Stacy made a mental note to add a coffee machine to her new office.

She had chosen to use the small cottage and let Amy have the office in the house. Beyond her windows, birds chirped, and the garden fountain bubbled. If not for all this damn paperwork, she would have sat back and enjoyed the ambiance, grateful to have a home this peaceful away from the hustle and bustle of New York City.

She had forgotten how nice it was to wake to the sounds of birds and a gentle breeze rather than honking car horns and people yelling from the sidewalk. Stacy’s time in the city had done her good. She’d changed for the better and learned things about herself she wouldn’t have discovered otherwise.

However, she wondered if her time there had been an attempt to distract herself from what lay before her now. The Drakethorn legacy. The weight of it was heavy, but it felt right.

Too bad it included paperwork.

Stacy had been hard at work filling out forms since shortly after dawn, and it was nearing noon. She knew this only because when the sun was overhead, it shone directly through the front window and into her eyes. One thing she hadn’t done yet was put up curtains.

As a hard-working lawyer with an impressive reputation, Stacy thought the registration forms would be a piece of cake. They were not even close. “I could be helping people right now, but these stupid forms are stopping me,” she muttered.

A nearby sprite balancing on the end of a pen sticking out of a cup paused, eyeing the forms in disgust.

“You think it’s stupid, too, huh?” Stacy asked.

The sprite lifted its wings and fluttered away. Stacy wished she could do the same.

Ever since resigning from her firm in the city and moving to the countryside, Stacy had been determined to use her legal skills and knowledge to establish a practice of her own. Drakethorn Legal, she would call it if she ever got through the paperwork.

It felt good to be using her full last name again. What would those in the courtroom think when former Attorney Stacy Drake strolled in one day, calling herself by a new last name? Those who’d heard the rumors of a wealthy, resourceful man named Constantine Drakethorn would wonder if there was a connection.

Let them wonder, she thought.

Being able to help others and make a difference while living in Thorn Cottage, which her mother once inhabited, seemed ideal. Stacy was still wading through the muck of paperwork when her phone rang. “Yes, Rowan? You know I’m less than a quarter-mile from the house, and you could come here, right?”

She heard a wry smile in his voice. “Of course, Miss Drakethorn. I didn’t want to bother you, in case you were busy.”

Stacy scowled at his use of “Miss Drakethorn.” She had lectured him more than once on simply calling her Stacy like everyone else did.

“Would you mind coming into the house for a talk? I believe I have the final candidates narrowed down.” Though Rowan didn’t say it, Stacy knew he didn’t like conducting meetings in “the shed.”

She was more than happy to leave her paperwork behind. If she wasn’t having any luck establishing her practice, at least she could hire people to work at her estate. “I’ll be right in, Rowan,” she replied before hanging up.

She took her time through the garden between the small cottage and the manor house. She passed abundant rose bushes and apple trees, then circled a large stone fountain around which many water sprites flitted and danced. The stone manor house rose amongst clumps of dark trees with ivy and moss growing over its old surface. Several windows were open to the warm air.

Stacy pulled in a deep breath. Sometimes, it felt good to simply be.

Her mind roamed all that had been weighing on her today and in the past week since her official move to the estate grounds. Of course, there were the forms and the employee search. Rowan had taken the brunt of that work, but it had proved more difficult than either had expected.

It was a lot to ask people to work the estate since it meant moving to the countryside, and the manor house didn’t have enough room for whole families. This ruled out anyone who was married or had children.

Amy was having better luck with her work. Still a journalist, her constant projects sometimes took her into the city. Rowan went as her bodyguard, leaving Stacy to pick up the slack he left behind. She didn’t mind. She wanted Amy to enjoy her job and be safe while doing it. However, a time would come when Amy would need a separate bodyguard who wasn’t the estate manager.