Page 2 of Wrestling With Werewolves

Leo and I lean into his microphone as my wolf spins in my chest, her soft growl pulling my attention from the song.

No. I refuse to look at where she’s focusing. I know what I’ll see.

The song crescendos into my solo. I match my notes to the chorus as we close the final refrain. Leo’s background growls amp up the sound of my higher tones as the crowd screams along with us. I’m in my blessed element, and I swear to the goddess, nobody can take this from me.

But eventually, my solo ends. The crowd roars, but I feel Nuñez coming before I even see him.

Leo bumps me with a hip, his version of “good job,” before his dark eyes flick over my shoulder, his expression growing sorrowful.

My bodyguard’s fury precedes his presence onstage, raising my hackles. He swoops onto the stage, cutting a massive figure in his navy three-piece suit as he grabs me by the elbow. “What the fuck, Lola?” Nuñez snaps quietly in my ear.

Surprise snakes through me. Nuñez has never uttered a curse word in my presence.

I give the crowd a final wave as Leo starts up a new beat. He and the Lobos will crush the rest of this set. We practiced it together, and I had high hopes I’d get to join in a few more songs before Nuñez found me.

Sighing, I allow my head bodyguard to guide me off the stage. My wolf slinks to the corner of our shared consciousness, eyeing him with confusion and hurt. He says nothing, his much bigger frame laced with tension. Behind the curtain, three more guards from my personal retinue stand tensely. Not a single one looks at me as Nuñez pushes me gently toward an open door. The side of a black SUV is visible through it.

Something is different about tonight, though. They’re all focused and tight-looking, as if they expect someone to swoop out of the sky and scoop me up.

I look up at my bodyguard. “I’ve got a bag and my guitar case in the dressing room. May I go get it?”

“No,” he barks, putting a finger to his earpiece. “Grab the princess’s things from dressing.” With that, he stops at the door and glances around, as if snipers are waiting on every rooftop to off me.

This is really a new level of paranoia I wouldn’t have expected from him.

Goddess, help me keep my cool and find some way to exist where I can be the real me, Lola, and not just Lola, First Princess of Pack Santa Alaya.

I resist the urge to bark at Nuñez that I’m not in danger, but he’s doing the job my father hired him to do, and I made it harder tonight by disappearing. It’s a game we’ve been playing for the better part of ten years—I disappear to find the music, and Nuñez tracks me down, gives me a speech, and then we do it again.

I don’t know what’s different about tonight, though, so I hop into the SUV without a word. I can read a room as well as the next omega, I’ve been practicing my entire life. My only hope is that tonight’s repercussions don’t break my heart.

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER - RICHARD

Istand at the giant circular window in my bedroom, staring at the dense forest behind my treehouse. Pressing a button in the window frame, I select the option for rain. The magical window overlay can produce all varieties of weather, but pouring, pounding rain is my favorite. I love the tiny monster town of Ever, but the perfect sunny weather sometimes gets to me. I miss the wilder weather of my home haven, Acadia. I sometimes even miss the tropical heat of my adoptive haven, Santa Alaya.

The moment the rain hologram begins to play over the surface of my window, a sense of peace steals over me. I love staring at the rainy forest—it quiets my mind, most notably my wolf’s voice, which has become loud and demanding on the best of days. But even he falls silent when it rains.

Sometimes, I stare into the downpour and wonder what it would be like to share everything I’ve accomplished with someone, a partner. But it doesn’t seem like the goddess Alaya has someone in the works for me. As if she can sense my melancholy, the treehouse creaks and groans, her version of a comforting hug.

A chirping sound from the living room makes me twitch my ear. It’s my communication disk—someone’s calling from another haven.

Muttering, I leave the rain behind and jog out of my bedroom and into the giant rustic living area. After grabbing the flat metal comm disk off the wall, I set it on the floor. A single name hovers over its smooth surface.

Marco.

Running a hand through my salt-and-pepper waves, I direct the comm disk to answer. The moment I do, a life-size hologram of my oldest friend rises from the disk.

“Mi rey,” I say with a teasing lilt, dipping my head to one side as I grin playfully.

“Cut that shit out,” Marco barks. “I’m not in the mood.”

I lean against my fridge and cross both arms, flipping to alpha mode. It’s been a long time since I was the king’s Second, but it’s easy to fall back into that role. “What’s wrong?”

He runs both copper hands through his hair, the mirror of mine. “Lola fucking took off again tonight. Nuñez found her putting on a godsdamned concert in another haven. Huge crowd gathered. They knew she was coming, which means she planned it. Yet again.”

I grimace. Marco’s daughter Lola has always had a wild streak. I’ve reminded Marco plenty of times that she gets it from him. It’s not the first time she’s snuck out to play music and I suspect it won’t be the last, either. She’s something of a rock star, despite her father’s wishes otherwise.

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