Page 24 of Bullied Wolf Mate

“Sorry,” I said, blushing. “I’m just not a great conversationalist.”

“It’s fine!” Freya said. “Some of us are conversational enough for two or three of us.” She pointed at Thea and Evelyn.

“You’re one to talk,” Thea teased back.

“Anyway, no need to be nervous! But if you need to loosen up again, wine is an excellent tongue-loosener,” Evelyn said.

“I don’t know if we have any,” I admitted.

“We’re lucky I think ahead, then.” Evelyn held up a bag, giving a wide grin. “I brought enough wine for all of us.”

The rest of the group piled in, and Andi and Holly dragged me over to the couch while Evelyn hunted around for wine glasses, all of them chatting animatedly, talking over one another yet holding a consistent and coherent conversation at the same time.

I’d half-expected the conversation to be me sitting on the sidelines while the other women kept spouting inside jokes at one another that I wouldn’t understand. That would be the best-case scenario. Worst case, it turned out the women were all catty and shot passive-aggressive barbs at me. Instead, they made an effort to rope me into the conversation, asking about my magic and what sort of hobbies I had. They tactfully avoided Inara and Mark, though I could sense those topics lingering over the group.

I didn’t know if it was because of the isolation or simply because of how sweet the girls were toward me, but something about them put me at ease in a way I wouldn’t have imagined possible. I started smiling, laughing at their jokes, and chiming in on the conversation. It was a strange, almost foreign feeling, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.

Finally, it dawned on me, and the realization might have bowled me over had I not been sitting down.

I felt included.

In hindsight, it should have been fairly obvious. Except I had never really felt it since my parents died, and definitely noton this level. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting when Mark suggested they come over. Mostly, I’d thought about my time in high school.

At best, I’d been expecting awkward, stilted conversation for a little while until they politely made their exit, at which point I’d never spend time with any of them ever again. At worst, I’d anticipated a recreation of some of my worst moments at school.

But no. I felt like I had known these girls all my life. I didn’t realize how having this type of friend group could change your perspective on everything. Maybe opening up and actually becoming friends with people wasn’t the worst option after all.

I hadn’t thought about what I would do when all of this was over. All the things with Inara were so pressing that thinking about any “after” seemed absurd. I supposed I would go back to my cottage and my old life. That was what I wanted, right? I liked being by myself.

For the first time, however, I wondered what it might be like if I didn’t go back. What would life be like if I stayed here? Not with Mark, just in Brixton. If Brixton had a human and an absent already, I couldn’t see them having much problem with a witch living nearby. They might even find it useful. Maybe I could actually do some good for the town. Maybe the girls and I could stay friends.

The idea felt strange. Almost uncomfortable, like an ill-fitting second skin. Just the thought of it made me feel like an imposter. That sort of social life wasn’t for me. But the more I thought about it, the more tantalizing it became, and the more tempted I was to fantasize about it.

By the time the girls left several hours later, I felt more conflicted than ever. Part of me wished they had never come atall. I didn’t want to make connections here. I just wanted to go home.

Right?

Chapter 10 - Mark

Declan grunted as I slammed him to the ground. I grabbed his arm, twisting and holding it behind him as I pinned him. He snarled, trying to get out from underneath me, but he couldn’t get any leverage.

“Tap out,” I growled.

Declan grumbled, but his hand slammed against the mat several times. I released him, stepping back and holding out my hand to help him up.

“Nice one,” Declan grunted, rolling his shoulder. “Should have seen that leg sweep coming.”

I shrugged. “Probably,” I said, grinning.

Declan shot me a look before cracking his own smirk in response. “Maybe I’m just getting old,” Declan grumbled.

“We could have told you that,” Nolan called. Halfway across the gym, he and Jackson had paused in their sparring to watch our fight. “Especially if you’re letting flabby, out-of-shape shifters like Mark get the better of you.”

“Hop in the ring, and I’ll show you just how flabby and out of shape I am,” I fired back, earning a snicker from Jackson and another smirk from Declan.

“Always good to see someone put Nolan in his place,” Declan said. “Good guy, but needs to learn to shut his mouth on occasion.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” Nolan asked.

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