Page 30 of Taming of a Wolf

“And you sell books?” I ask.

“Romance books specifically. I was never satisfied with the limited selection most big chain bookstores have. I have all kinds of subgenres of romance. Contemporary, dark, rom-coms, stories with LGBTQ+ and BIPOC characters, fantasy, paranormal. You name it.”

“And you read for fun?”

“Yup. It can be a good distraction but also a great way of learning about other people’s experiences.”

I run my finger along the spine of a book. Pulling it from the shelf, I’m astonished by the artwork of a man and womansharing a kiss while they ride on a horse into the sunset. It’s beautiful, and the pages are soft as I flip through them. The runes inscribed within are not futhark. The language is unknown to me. “Fascinating.”

Jamie’s smile is soft and sad. “You’ve never read a book? At all?”

“We did not write our stories down. We told sagas and poems to our family and friends to teach valuable lessons the gods have passed down to us. Tales of honor, glory, and even warnings of how the world would end. I learned to wield a blade as soon as I was old enough to walk and talk. Survival was more important than simple pleasures.” I close the book and push it back into place. “Now, what are my duties?”

“Basically,” Jamie says as he leads me around the shelves, “you’ll keep the store clean. Customers can be sloppy, so if they don’t clean up after themselves, you’ll have to wipe down tables. At the end of the day, you’ll sweep and mop so everything is nice and clean for tomorrow.”

“Easy enough.” It is an honest job, if not the most exciting.

“You don’t sound very happy.”

“I’m not. Such menial tasks are the work of peasants. I am the son of a jarl.”

Jamie claps me on the back, making me grimace. “Time to get down and dirty with the rest of us working-class folk, puppy dog.”

As degrading as this work is, it sounds like child’s play to me. I’ve always excelled at everything I’ve done. This shall not be any different, no matter what time I am in. Jamie shows me where the cleaning supplies are, though the store was cleaned the night before.

Someone knocks on the door, making me growl at the unseen threat.

“Chill, Anders. It’s just Bailey.” Jamie jogs to let whoever this Bailey person is inside. “Morning!”

I peer around my mate at the woman. She has rich umber skin, a face that strikes a balance between masculine and feminine, a strong jaw, full lips, and a button nose. A brimmed black hat sits atop a curly head of short black hair that is dyed pink at the tips. A black dress, heeled boots, and a black-and-white striped sweater complete the outfit.

“Morning, love!” Bailey says, sweeping my mate into an embrace.

I freeze in place as dread sinks into my stomach like a rock.

A growl rumbles up my throat as Bailey leans in and presses her mouth to Jamie’s cheek.

Fury ignites within my soul.

Nobody is taking Jamie from me. I have never in my life had someone who was mine and mine alone. Wulfric had our father’s adoration and then the love of his human mate, even though he deserved none of it. Gunnar had Leif, his chosen mate, and their child. Lyall had his mate for years, since boyhood. I had convinced myself I was happy sharing my bed with whichever tavern wench or village lad would have me.

It was a lie.

I have finally found someone made just for me, and I am not losing him.

Jamie ismine.Fury courses through me as the berserker within roars to life. My muscles grow thicker. My shoes threaten to split. Fur grows thick on my arms, creeping up slowly toward my face.

“Hands off!” I roar, making them both jump. I yank Jamie against my chest and bare my teeth at this Bailey.

How dare this person touch my mate so intimately? True, I haven’t claimed him yet, but once I have, none would dare touch him!

Wait. What? I’m not here to claim Jamie. I’m here to charm him into giving me his necklace. Not to mate with him.By the gods, stick to the plan, Anders!

In a deepening voice, I snarl, “Touch him again, and I will cleave your arms from your body.”

“Anders, what the hell?” Jamie glares at me, and then shock erases his anger. “Holy shit. What is happening to you?” he hisses.

Fury makes me pant. My clothes tighten as my muscles swell. If I transform into my berserker form, I will be hunted. Fear twists like a knife in my chest. “Can’t… can’t hold back the rage.” Damn it! If I’d only claimed him that first night we were together, this wouldn’t be happening.

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