Page 8 of Wrestling With Werewolves

I promise.

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER - RICHARD

Connall’s big strides eat up the distance between us as he crosses the street toward my bar, Bad Axe. I’ve been standing out front, waiting for him to arrive.

He runs a hand through his auburn waves, green eyes flashing. “Lola’s guest house is ready, and I’ve notified the rest of the pack about the timeline.”

I open my mouth to respond just as hoofbeats announce the arrival of Ever’s current Keeper, Arkan. He halts next to Connall, who takes one look at his shirt and snorts.

I almost don’t look…almost. Because every damn day the innuendo on Arkan’s tees seems to get worse and worse.

The dark coated, inky skinned centaur shifts from one front leg to the other, his horse tail swishing around his black-coated sides. He winks pale eyes at me and points to his shirt.

And I look. Despite my best efforts.

Spread cheeks. Not hate.

I groan and slap a hand over my face. “Arkan, the princess is arriving. Princess, as in shifter royalty.”

He stomps a foot and crosses his muscular arms over the tee. “I’ve met Lola a half dozen times through my work with Hearth HQ. She’s cool as fuck. She’s not gonna care about my shirt.”

I give him a stern look. “You know, your predecessor was a little more…” I cast around for the right words to describe our former Keeper, Ever’s version of a mayor.

“Stick in the mud,” Arkan offers helpfully. “Tortured by his demons? Desperately in love?” He shrugs. “You know I adore Abemet, but just because he did it one way doesn’t mean I need to.”

And there’s the rub. I worked with our former Keeper since right after the Cerinvalla Act created the monster haven system. We’ve partnered for hundreds of haven-years.

Arkan and I are still finding our footing.

He rips the shirt over his head, revealing an upper body tight with muscle. Flipping the tee inside out, he beams at me. When he throws it back on, I growl.

Jackass, my wolf snaps in our shared mindspace. Break one of his legs.

“Stop it,” I growl to myself.

Arkan and Connall cock their heads to the side. Arkan smiles. “And how’s Big Daddy today?”

Connall chokes and looks off into the distance.

I groan. “Don’t call him that; you’ll egg him on.”

Arkan beams and stares deeply into my eyes, scanning my face as I resist the urge to follow my wolf’s instruction and kick him in the foreleg.

The big centaur sighs. “I’m headed to the portal station. Hana’s already there, making sure everything is ready for the princess.”

I nod, lost in thought about Lola’s impending arrival. Connall and I watch Arkan take off up the road at a canter, his black tail streaming like a flag behind him.

“I like him,” Connall states, grinning at me. “Even though he antagonizes Big Daddy.”

“Stop it,” I hiss.

Connall beams. “Listen, I’ve never known an alpha whose wolf talked to him. It says a lot about your strength, Richard. If your wolf wants us all to call him Big Daddy, I’m down.”

In my mind, my wolf preens and prances like an asshole. That’s right, Second, he quips in my brain.

Connall stares deeply into my eyes. “He’s saying something about me, isn’t he?”

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