Honey and Flies

Havermouth, Present Time

“Sit still as statues whilst we have our chat,” Aislen watched as the werewolves expressions changed to alarm under the realization that they were prisoners of their own bodies and incapable of moving or speaking of their own free will.

“Yeah,” she smirked. “I’m not a witch,” she told them. “I’m your worst nightmare. A hormonal, tired pregnant woman with the ability to control your minds, who is really, really pissed off with you. Like REALLY pissed off,” she walked around the table to pull the breakfast trays and coffee towards her end of the table, popping the croissants and egg and bacon muffins onto plates before setting them next to the empty chairs.

“Sit down and eat something,” she told her men. “We’re going to have a good chat with the big wolves now, so we might as well get comfy.”

“What the f-k?” Rohan demanded of Heath in confusion. “Can they really not talk or move?”

“Nope,” Ailsen helped herself to a croissant.

Rhett leaned over the table to pour