Page 9 of Taming of a Wolf

“Fine.” I pocket the blade. “Get out of here, thief. If I ever see you again—”

“You won’t!” the thief babbles, springing up. “Thanks, man, thank you so much!” He dashes off into the night. The wolf in me longs to chase him down and kill him away from Jamie’s prying eyes, but I’m distracted when Jamie says, “Stay back. I appreciate what you did, but—”

“But he helped us!” the boy interjects, poking his head out from around Jamie.

“It’s all right. I won’t harm either of you.” I sweep my gaze over Jamie, relaxing when he doesn’t appear harmed, just frightened. The rage inside cools to a simmer as I let my gaze linger on his full, soft lips and pert button nose.

“Are you hurt?” I ask.

Jamie shakes his head. “N-no. Thanks to you.” His throat bobs when he swallows. “Just so we’re clear… I really saw you change from a wolf into a man, right? I’m not crazy?”

“You saw correctly.”

“Oh…” Jamie sounds faint as he leans his head back against the door. “Wait. No. Stop. This is weird.”

The boy looks from Jamie to me, wide-eyed. “That wasn’t weird! That was awesome!” A big grin lights up his face. “You totally went all Jacob on his ass!”

“Language!” Jamie huffs.

I normally don’t like children, but the lad’s enthusiasm makes the corner of my mouth tip up. “Who is this Jacob? He sounds like a fearsome fighter.”

“A werewolf from this book series my friend likes called—”

But Jamie says, “Is that what you are? A werewolf? Or a wolf shifter?”

“We call ourselves ulfhednar. Why? Is there a difference?”

Jamie nods, moving his hands animatedly as he speaks. “So, yeah. In fiction, werewolves are usually men or women who are forced to change into a wolf when there’s a full moon. Like a curse. Wolf shifters can assume their form at will and are generally more sympathetic than werewolves, especially in romantic fiction.”

Fiction? What in Odin’s beard is he talking about?

Jamie laughs. “You don’t understand most of what I just said, huh?”

I scowl. “I understood fine.” I didn’t, but like hell I’ll admit to feeling so utterly lost.

“That’s okay. You said ulfhednar, right?” He butchers the pronunciation, but I nod. “Okay, so that’s what I’ll call you. Wow. This is wild!”

“What time are you from?” the boy asks, venturing closer to get a better look at me. “You look like a Viking!”

“Aye, I am.” The boy’s big, bright smile confuses me. Their reactions are not what I was expecting. Aye, Jamie is ulfhednar himself, and so is the boy, but they’ve grown up among humans. I’m surprised he hasn’t been told awful things about us or taught to hate himself. “You aren’t afraid of me?”

The boy shakes his head emphatically. “No way! This is awesome. You’re a Viking werewolf! How cool is that?”

Jamie considers my question. “Not really. You saved my life. Or my belongings, at the very least. Besides, I’ve always thought werewolves—uh, ulfhednar—were really cool. Especially in romance novels.” His cheeks flush pink.

He thinks we’re… cool? “How exactly do ulfhednar and the weather relate to each other?”

“What?” He barks a laugh. “No! I mean… I like ulfhednar. I definitely don’t hate you.”

For someone who grew up among humans, he’s more open-minded than I expected. But how doesn’t he know he’s like me?

“Thanks for saving me. I’m sorry I punched you in the face. You were kinda creepy, but you made up for it.” He shakes his head. “I feel like an asshole now.”

I just shrug. “I’ve had much worse. You’ve got a good arm! You’d make a worthy warrior where I’m from, pet.”

Jamie’s cheeks color at the nickname. Gods above, but he is lovely. He returns my smile. “All right. How about we start over, then?” He clears his throat, then sticks out his hand. “I’m Jamie Sullivan. I like reading, baking, and cozy sweaters.”

I stare at his hand. “What are you doing?”

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