Page 11 of Sing Sweet Nightingale

“And what business would that be?”

He ignores my question, tapping his fingers against his bicep.

“You and I know you can’t make me leave just to be here. Why don’t you scurry along, little pup, and go play house with the humans? If I need you, I’ll make sure to whistle.”

A deep growl reverberates in my chest, a warning to the impertinent elf. I can feel my body reacting to his blatant disrespect, nails hardening and sharpening into claws, canines elongating into fangs. Clenching my teeth, my lips curl back, flashing my fangs threateningly.

“Watch it, elf. If I feel my pack is threatened in any way, I can and will remove you from this townwithforce.”

“Woah, down, Spot. I’m not threatening anyone. I'm just stating my right to be here.” He raises his arms in a defensive position, acting all innocent.

I’m getting tired of the dog comments, but technically, he’s right. We don’t completely follow the laws of the human world, but we do have our own rules. One is that all non-humans are welcome until proven untrustworthy or dangerous. Until he does something against my pack and town he’s allowed to be here.

No matter how much I want to kick him out right now, I don’t have the right. And if I start ignoring the rules of our world and making my own, my pack will be unwelcome in other territories.

“Fine. But make sure you wear your glamour atalltimes. The humans here aren’t used to such outlandish appearances. You won’t blend in here in your true form.” With even more false apology, he furrows his brow mockingly.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t want to startle the poor, simple-minded humans.” Finally, standing from his casual lean against the doorframe, he seamlessly transitions into his glamour, which isn’t far off from his true form. His hair remains long and black, the silver earrings and rings remain, the gray pallor of his skin shifts tones to a pale tan, the fangs, claws, and ears all round out, and the bottomless black of his sclera fades away to generic human white while his irises shift from yellow to brown.

Even though I can always see his true form, I can also view his glamour when I choose. How else would I know he’s wearing one or what he looks like for when humans describe him to me as a menace? Which they no doubt eventually will.

“Good. Keep it that way,” I growl out between clenched teeth.

I want to impose my alpha power on him but hold back. He may be a cocky asshole, but he is abiding by our rules.

“I’m keeping my eye on you. So, watch yourself.” Roman, if that even is his real name, lumbers a few steps back into the room and starts to pull the door shut. Before it can closecompletely, I stop it with my foot, halting its progress, leaving plenty of space to glare once more at the elf.

“Tell Vincent that no matter what he does, he’s not getting my land.”

Roman widens his eyes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t. Just deliver the message.” He doesn’t argue or deny my insinuation that he works for Vincent; he just shuts the door without another word. Once the door latches, I roll my neck, cracking the stiffness there. I may need a run before the weekend to relieve the growing stress from this new development.

Chapter 4 - Lottie

The directions Luna drew out for me on the paper map didn’t look like they led anywhere. The thick red line cut through what appeared to be undeveloped green space. The road to the town and the town itself don’t exist on the map or Google Earth. I would never have found it if she hadn’t given me turn-by-turn directions.

But I did.

The road was narrow but well-maintained. Once I turned off from the highway, it was hardnotto find Snowberry. There is only one road in and out. Only one place you could end up if you dared turn down the empty road that looked like it led to a woodland cannibal’s domain.

Luna had arranged for me to meet Ginger at the gas station at the town's entrance. I spotted her immediately in her bright blue Mini Cooper. She waved me down, and before I could step out to greet her, she ran up to the car, telling me not to bother getting out yet as we were going to go straight to the cabin, only a few minutes’ drive away.

On the way to the cabin, I didn’t see much of the center of town, but what I did see looked perfectly picturesque and adorable. I can’t wait to stroll down main street, pop into thecoffee shop, and sit at a curbside table, enjoying the quiet anonymity—assuming they have a coffee shop.

Shit. What if they don’t have a coffee shop? Where will I feed my caffeine addiction?It’s highly unlikely there’s aStarbucksorDutch Bro’shere, but there has to be a locally owned café or something. At least, I hope to God there is. I have no idea how to make a latte.

Hell, I don’t know how to make much of anything. I haven’t had to cook for myself since I was a teenager. Looks like I’ll be living off frozen dinners and whatever local restaurants they have. I hope the TV at the cabin gets the Food Network so I can learn how to cook while I’m here.

I follow Ginger down a residential street, her music drifting on the wind behind her. Thankfully, it's not mine. That would be awkward. The houses we pass are spread out and have vast green yards. A few people are out sitting on porches or walking down the street, but overall, it’s pretty quiet. It is so different from the nonstop noise and hustle of Los Angeles.

Ginger’s convertible turns down a neat gravel road, and I follow her closely. The road is lined with towering pine trees and splits at one point, and we take the lane to the left. We drive maybe half a mile more before the road dead ends at a small clearing where the most perfect cabin sits, sheltered by the imposing forest and colorful flowering bushes. It looks like a Bob Ross painting brought to life right in front of me.

I park and step out, stretching my cramped legs, never taking my eyes off the cabin. Celestial rays of sunlight shine down through the gaps in the treetop, lighting up the moss-covered roof.

Pure and exquisite silence greets me as I stand in awe at my new—temporary—home. There are no honking horns, sirens, airplanes overhead, snapping cameras with yelling paparazzi, and best of all no security team.

The heavy weight I’ve been carrying in my heart for years lifts, and my guilt for running away dissolves.

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