Page 16 of Enemy Wolf

They seemed dangerous to other patrons at first. People steered clear, not wanting to offend the alpha of the whole territory or one of the males he commanded. But after a few drinks, people got curious and then eventually drawn in, usually by Tryn, the friendliest and most outgoing of the pack. He’d find someone alone, or maybe a couple or small group, and draw them into the circle of howls and black leather, and those people would feel like they found their new best friends.

Throughout the night, I kept looking over at the biker wolf pack, scanning the familiar faces for one that was notably absent. One with the palest blue eyes that would be impossible to miss.

And every time, I forced my eyes away the moment I realized what I was doing. Why was I even looking for Orson? Why did I keep replaying our conversation at the lodge, especially when he said, “Now I know for next time”?

I wasn’t actually hoping for a next time. Definitely not.

The other thing my brain was stuck on was when he told me to be careful. Ever since then, it had felt like a strange mix of paranoia and relief had settled over me. Paranoia that he might have seen the dragon shifter that night, maybe knew what happened. And relief for the exact same reasons. At least then I wouldn’t be dealing with this alone. At least then a Howling Death member would be aware of the threat against the territory.

But who was I kidding? There was no way Orson could know. And if he did, why would he care about me? He only said that because he was an awkward poodle in wolf fur and didn’t know what else to say.

The really annoying thing was, the more I tried to not think of him and focus on work, the more insistently he pressed on my mind. It felt like he was right behind me, following at every step. As the night went on, I even started to feel a sensation on my skin like he was running a touch along the back of my neck, caressing my hands and arms.

When the front door opened, bringing a new customer in along with the cool night air, I didn’t have to look up from the drink I was making. I knew.

“There he is!” Tryn’s jovial voice boomed over the din as he greeted Orson with an aggressive handshake and slap on the back. “‘Bout time you showed up. What are you drinking?”

I didn’t hear Orson’s reply over the noise in the bar and my pulse pounding in my chest and ears. I had to bring my palm to my heart and just stop for a moment. My heartbeat was fast but not in a frantic, racing way, just elevated and…excited? I was already in a good mood from the busy night, but my body seemed elated on a level that my brain couldn’t understand. Sure, it was a busy night and I was active, but this was something else. Some kind of emotional response to…something.

“You alright, Shi?”

A broad body came into view, framed by a set of dark red wings. Kaz had his arms full of empty glasses and he was smiling, his face flushed with good cheer.

“Couldn’t be better.” I took the empties he put down and stuck them in the flats. “I should hire you as a busser.”

Without looking, I somehow knew Orson was on his way up to the bar. It was like some invisible thread between us was being wound up, forcing the distance between us shorter and shorter.

Kaz laughed at my joke, taking no notice of the icy-eyed wolf coming up next to him. Orson rested an elbow at the bar and seemed content to wait. At least, I assumed he was content, considering he was looking at the angel like he wanted to turn him into an ice sculpture on the spot.

“What can I get you next, Kaz?” From all signs, the angel was tipsy and enjoying himself but nowhere near sloshed. He’d be fine to have another round or two.

Kaz reached across the bar and touched his fingertips to my arm, his eyes taking on that heated look I’d seen before. “Any chance you’ve rethought having dinner with me?”

The next thing I knew, the whole room went ice cold. And I knew exactly who it was coming from.

“Kaz—”

“Don’t. Touch. Her.”

Both of our heads whipped to face the snarling werewolf at the bar. Orson was holding his wolf back but losing the fight with each passing second. His teeth elongated while pale fur lightened his dark hair, and his ears migrated to points at the top of his head. Deep, rumbling growls rattled his heaving chest with every breath.

“Whoa.” Kaz stepped back, his hands up defensively as his eyes darted between Orson and me. “I didn’t know there was, uh—”

Orson turned with a growl, heading for the door. The entire bar had fallen silent at that point and stared as he stormed out.

I couldn’t begin to explain what I did next. Couldn’t make heads or tails of why my feet took me around the bar and chased after that werewolf.

The outside temperature felt the same as inside, that was how frozen over Orson made the bar feel.

Looking left, I saw Howling Death’s fleet of motorcycles parked closely together under the porch light. Orson wasn’t anywhere near them. Looking right, I saw the silhouette of a man pulling his shirt off as he walked away.

The moon wasn’t full yet, but she would be in about a week, and it was a clear night. Orson’s frame—the long arms, powerful shoulders, and tapered waist, were outlined in silver as he made for the treeline.

“Orson, wait!” I ran after him, still utterly clueless as to why. I was just along for the ride in my own skin, unable to fight this pull to the surly, loner wolf.

He ignored me and even picked up the pace. He was still more man than wolf, upright as he hurried away from me.

“Orson, stop! Please.” I couldn’t let him leave, that was the only thing I knew for sure. Please don’t leave me, my heart seemed to cry out.

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