Page 6 of Kiss My Sass

“Hell, no, girl. He ain’t evil,” the redheaded she-Wolf continued. “Thor is touched by the gods. He’s our Seer. That means he has the sight. You know, ancient Vikings didn’t use the term Demon like Christians do. You see, Demons were simply otherworldly beings. Folks like Thor, who have a foot on either side of the veil.”

“I knew he was special, but I had no idea,” Nica mused aloud, wonder lacing her tone.

“Yep. That Demon Wolf is pretty special. Look at those shoulders and thighs. No doubt about it, the man iss-p-e-c-i-a-l,” she spelled it out, thrusting her hips with each letter.

Nica rolled her eyes and laughed at Sheila, who giggled, and play bumped her on the shoulder. It was strange, but she felt a sort of camaraderie with the Dire Wolves she’d never felt with anyone back home.

No, not home,Nica corrected herself.

The place she’d been kept for close to six years had never been her home. She shivered, wishing things were different, wishing she were different. Her gaze wandered back to where Thor was checking the IDs of a group of young women, all giggling and pretty.

The females looked happy and free, confident with their tight clothes and made-up faces. Just out for a good time, she supposed. Nica could not help envying their easy looking lives. One even dared to flirt with the unusually large and somber male. Thor’s black gaze was on the blonde as she leaned in and spoke to him, her eyes smiling in invitation.

Something ugly and dark twisted in Nica’s gut, and she frowned, recognizing that feeling for what it was. Jealousy. But she had no cause for that. She didn’t have any claim on the stoic Dire Wolf Shifter. Behaving the fool was something she couldn’t afford nowadays. Nica had other worries, serious worries, but she couldn’t help but watch as he dealt with the trio of blonde beauties.

All three of them had the same golden stare and lithe physiques. They moved with a grace she identified as belonging to Feline Shifters only. Lionesses, if she had to guess. Serious Moonlight, the Dire Wolf MC’s roadhouse and bar, was located right on the border of Blue Valley, prime Pride territory.

They wore skintight jeans and crop tops with strips of tanned skin revealed through expertly cut rips in their clothing. Yeah, they looked good. Confident, too. Perky boobs and tight butts were on display, with their tiny little waists showing off belly button rings and chains.

Nica felt downright dowdy by comparison. She was short and leaning towards the chubby side, despite being a Raven Shifter. Where her animal form was fine-boned and capable of flying, her human body was thick and stocky, with more soft curves than sleek muscles.

She had dark brown curly hair that she usually pulled back into an untamed puff on top of her head. Unless she had hundreds of dollars to spend on conditioning treatments, which she did not, the frizz was a constant in her life. Then there was her face. She had smooth skin, clear of blemishes save for a few freckles on her nose.

But Nica was allergic to most makeup, so she never bothered with the stuff. Her eyes were nice. A bright, clear blue that was attractive, if not pretty. Still, Nica was the kind of girl who’d rather stay home in yoga pants and a t-shirt watching reruns of old sitcoms and eating ice cream out of the carton than get dressed up and go bar hopping.

Yep. That settled it. Nica would never attract a man like Thor. Still, she watched him as he handled the randy Lionesses without moving off his barstool. He was smooth and professional, allowing them entry but not entertaining any of their flirtations. The leader seemed determined. Bold, that one was, for sure.

Thor mostly ignored the female, and for some reason, that made Nica feel better. Her Raven croaked again, a rumbling sound that showed her animal’s content. At least the Demon Wolf, as Sheila had dubbed him, was as indifferent to the pretty Lioness group as he was to Nica.

She recalled how he’d reacted when, to her undying shame, Nica had sought him out after she’d recovered. Her healing sleep had lasted for nearly thirty-six hours after she’d fled her former Murder. Of course, her flight was on the heels of the Crow King’s cruel punishment that had left her naked and bleeding, tied to a post outside like an animal.

No. Not mine. They were never my Murder.

In the wild, a group of ravens was called anunkindness, but even then, they were rare. Ravens tended to live solitary lives, sometimes in pairs, but only that. There were so few Ravens, they often flocked to other Flight Shifters who were more common. Like Crows.

A group of Crow Shifters was called a Murder, and aptly so. The last one she belonged to held just about as much warmth as the word itself. Harsh and cold, the Crow king was a liar, but duty kept his good little soldiers in line, and no one had helped Nica while the male had beat on her. Some had joined in under his orders.

That memory was forever burned into her brain, destroying any kind thoughts she might have ever had about the Pine Murder. After Nica had finally woken from her healing sleep, she’d been full of sweet thoughts and gratitude towards the man who literally caught her before she could crash land on the unforgiving asphalt.

Thor was her savior, and she had to tell him how grateful she was. So, Nica had cornered him that very afternoon, gushing with emotion when she tried to thank him. His reply to her thankful praise echoed in her ears, and embarrassment filled her once more.

“Stop saying thank you. It’s done.”

No doubt about it. Thor Ulger was no fan of hers. He was ice. Frozen through to the bone, that one. Just a statue where a warm, breathing man should be, and she would do well to leave him alone. Some men were just like that. Cold, unfeeling brutes, incapable of affection and unwilling to form lasting relationships.

More memories swarmed inside her mind, sending shivers through her body. She’d learned her lesson about men the hard way. The first time she’d seen Jack Branwen, King of the Pine Murder, Nica was barely twenty years old. Green and gullible, she’d believed the older male when he told her he was in love with her and wanted to make her his queen.

Her widowed mother had been thrilled at the news and could not wait to ship her off. After a brief ceremony, Nica and Jack promised themselves to each other beneath a blooming cherry tree with his Beta, Emmet, and her mother as witnesses.

Oh, he’d been sweet then. Paying her compliments, the first she’d ever gotten from a man. Jack was never handsome, but he was so commanding, with his sharp features and fathomless eyes. He’d read her poetry, brought her roses and sweet cakes from the market near the place where she’d grown up in Maryland.

Jack was tall and lean, his face too hawklike to be truly handsome with his large nose and long black hair. He looked like something out of a Vampire romance. But he was no Vampire, he was a Crow. A King to his people. And Nica was so lucky he chose her. Wasn’t that what her mother said?

“You should be grateful, child, looking the way you do. Too fat to land a regular man, but he sees value in those wide hips of yours,” she snapped when Nica had hesitated about accepting his proposal. “You will not get a better offer!”

So, Nica accepted him at face value. She allowed him to court her, took his gifts, and believed his lies when he said he loved her and wanted her. She hadn’t questioned a thing.

What a foolish girl I’d been. I deserved what happened.

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