Page 11 of Wishing for a Werewolf
“They’re having one of their witchy book club meetings.” Severin drinks half his ale in one go.
I should be relieved. If Autumn’s doing witchy things, it puts her one step closer to figuring out what spell she cast on me.
So why do I feel only disappointment? It’s not as if I ever talk to her, even when she does visit The Thirsty Tusk. But to see her, chatting and enjoying being with her friends, the way her hair sways like a glorious flame of fire every time she throws her head back in laughter…
My fire.
Shoving the thought aside, I ask Severin about a more pressing issue. “Do you have any more bodyguard jobs coming up?”
“Goddess, I hope not.”
I grunt. It’s not that I want anyone to be in danger, but I don’t see how the cu sith can regain their status as royal bodyguards if the fae kings don’tneedbodyguards.
What are my people supposed to do? We can’t go back to living as only wolves, not if we want to live as the shifters we were always meant to be.
The door swings open, banging against the wall, and a group of drunken humans stumble into the pub.
“Yo!” one of the young men with blond hair slurs and waves a fistful of money at Thorvinn. “Whiskey us up!”
“No.” The orc straightens to his full height, crossing his meaty arms over his broad chest. He might not wear a sword here on Earth, but his warrior readiness is clear to see for anyone with even a modicum of common sense.
Which doesn’t happen to be any of these humans.
Another of the men points at the one who tried to order. “Bro, your ass just gotdenied!”
The others fall against each other, howling with laughter.
The blond’s face twists, turning bright red. He stomps toward the bar. “You can’t tell me no! I’ve got money.”
“I serve who I choose, and I don’t choose you,” Thorvinn growls, his deep voice filled with warning.
Which the human ignores. He opens his mouth, ready to make further demands.
All of my instincts as pack protector spark to life. I slide off my stool, my hand latching onto the human’s shoulder. “Let’s go outside and get some air.”
He half turns, his shoulder twitching as he tries to shake me off, but I keep my hold easily. Then his eyes track upward. The blond is tall for a human.
I’m taller and almost twice as wide, all of it muscle.
With the wooden bar between them, the youth ignored the orc’s size, but he can’t so easily dismiss me as I standdirectly in front of him. A spark of awareness cuts through the drunken haze in his eyes. “Shit, man. I didn’t mean nothing.”
“Which means you meant something.” My lips curl.
“Whuh?” His brow creases as if he’s trying to work out a difficult mathematical problem, and I don’t bother to explain his use of a double negative.
My hand tightens, and I propel him toward the door. The rest of his group follows, their steps clumsy. Once out in the cool night air, I keep going, marching them across the pavement and onto the soft grass of the green, where I push the blond down until he slumps onto the ground.
The others plop down all around him, one of them groaning, “Bro, I don’t feel so good.”
“Shouldn’t have chugged the Mad Dog,” another agrees.
I have no idea what a mad dog is, but I know younglings acting above their age when I see them. “First time drinking?”
Mutters of agreement.
“Stay here and let it wear off.” I jab a finger at the ground. “And when you have a horrible headache in the morning, remember that’s what drinking too much is really like.”
Severin and Thorvinn watch me from the door of The Thirsty Tusk, and when I reach them, the orc says, “Thanks. I’m not sure I could have been that gentle with them.”
