Page 75 of Wishing for a Werewolf
On Wednesday night, I leave Riselda at home with the pups and take the others into Ferndale Falls. We run through the forest, a small pack together, and I revel in it: the soft thump of my feet against the ground, the susurrus of wind through the trees, the scamper of a night animal rustling the underbrush, the cool night air refreshing on my skin.
Letting loose awakens another kind of hunger in me. I long to see Autumn running before me, her hair flying behind her in a bewitching flicker of flame. My erection twitches as I imagine chasing her down, taking her wherever we might fall, my cock buried in her sweet depths.
The vision is so clear I have to blink it away to focus on my surroundings as we race out of the woods behind Slice of Life, circle the building, and slow to enter Main Street at a walk. Downtown spreads out in front of us, the colorful shops lit by the golden glow of streetlights, bright windows beckoning people inside.
“It’s so different from the pack den, but it’s beautiful,” Mirella says.
Everyone nods, and I say, “We lived in houses in Faerie, centuries ago.” Back when we’d originally been able to shift into our fae forms. “The dragon has shown me sketches of them.”
A high cheer comes from Slice of Life as the pixies deliver another pizza, but I usher everyone down the street and across the green. The tulips run over to us, waving their little leaf arms for attention, and the pumpkins roll up in front of them, dropping onto their bases and turning until their faces look right at us.
I crouch to run a finger over a pumpkin, and it wiggleswith delight, like a pup begging to be petted. They crowd around me, each asking for attention.
Mirella chuckles and pats the pumpkins, then looks at me. “What kind of magic is this? It doesn’t feel like any fae I know.”
“It’s human magic, witch magic,” I say.
“I didn’t realize human witches were this powerful.”
I grunt, thinking of the strength of Autumn’s wish swap spell.
We continue on to The Thirsty Tusk. As soon as we step inside the pub made of honey-colored wood, my pack mates relax a little. Except for a few humans seated at tables scattered across the room, it looks just like an orc pub from Faerie. I order a round of pints and get them settled at a table, then join Lukendevener at the bar.
“I still don’t have an answer,” he growls instead of saying hello, his wings lifting several inches.
I grunt. “I thought as much, since you haven’t contacted me.”
“I’ll keep looking.” His wings settle.
The orc bartender nods a hello and serves my usual.
I take a welcome gulp from my tankard of ale.
Shadow appears on my other side, ordering a drink, which he lifts toward us in hello. “Hound. Dragon.”
“Cat,” I say as Luke grunts.
And just like that, we settle into our familiar evening routine.
Until the warmth of a bright laugh spins me on my stool to find Autumn walking through the doorway with several of her witch friends.
“Thorvinn,” Shadow says, his eyes glittering with mischief, “do us all a favor and make the wall behind the bar mirrored.”
“Why?” The hulking orc pulls another pint, scowling over at us.
“I have my reasons.” The werepanther’s eyes flicker toward the women, who’ve gathered at the other end of the bar. “Or at least one.”
Thorvinn asks, “What about you two?”
“I’m willing to be seen staring at Autumn,” I say.
“Fuck off. You damned well tried to hide it only a couple of weeks ago.” Luke shoots me a fierce scowl, made all the more menacing by his horns. Then he gives the bartender a nod. “A mirror would be handy.”
Shadow leans past me to slap the weredragon on his upper arm. “That’s what I’m talking about. A little stealth. A little finesse.”
“Ha!” Luke jabs a claw toward the werepanther. “How’s all your ‘finesse’ going with your witch?”
Shadow rolls his eyes but doesn’t answer.
