Page 100 of The Wolf in My Tavern

“Something tells me you’re going to have to learn fast,” Drake says dryly.

Ada stands between us, where she was always meant to be, bridging the gap between worlds.

“There is danger here,” I say. “I don’t know the nature of it yet. But I would have Ada stay onboard with my younger brother and Lizbeth. The men at the docks are alphas from my pack. Callum, I would appreciate you coming with Drake and me as we meet them at the shore.”

His eyes meet mine. He nods. “I don’t know how much help I will be. I am used to fighting with my fists and have limited skills with a sword. Not much help against any shifter kind of trouble.”

“You have a fucking massive beast,” Drake points out.

“And I don’t have a clue how to control it, nor even how to call it.”

“If something happens,” Drake says. “Your beast will work it out. You may rest assured of that.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Callum

With Ada safely on the ship, I join Drake and Gray on the rowboat, along with half a dozen burly crewmen who take up the oars and row us out.

I am nervous. I believe Gray speaks truthfully about the danger, but he could also be lying in order to get me away from Ada so he might slit my throat without her knowing. Maybe pass it off as some trouble.

I don’t trust him yet. The inner voice, that I now understand is my beast, tells me that I need to learn how to, which might be easier had the bastard not kept me in chains for a fucking week while he rutted my woman.

It is going to take a little time.

My skills are weak. I barely know the shifter side of me, although I sense him to a greater extent since he revealed himself. In the past, he was more of a shadow in my mind, but now he takes on a distinct wolf form. He is likewise wary of Gray and his motives, but is more wary of the men on the shore.

He likes Drake. I guess I like Drake, too. Even though he is an annoying bastard who talks too much, I sense he is genuine.

I want to believe that Gray is genuine, too. Still, anything might happen when we reach the shore.

As the boat rocks over the choppy sea, I empty my mind of thoughts and expand my senses. The steady pull of the oars creates a rhythm as the crew takes us ever closer to the smaller wharf set away from the main wharf where the larger vessels are docked. I notice the tension in Drake’s body and the alertness in Gray’s. Their focus is not on me, not even in a subtle way, but straight ahead on the two men who stand waiting.

It settles the notion that Gray and Drake are not my enemies. The men on the dock might not be either; Gray has said they are his pack mates and alphas with high standing. Yet, there is still a sense of danger here.

Gray has been gone a long time. While I know very little about packs, it is common enough knowledge that they have warring ways between them, and are subject to infighting.

Maybe these men have been sent to kill Gray.

Maybe something happened while he was gone.

A year is a long fucking time.

The sailors tie off the boat, and we climb out, placing our feet on the wooden deck of the wharf—I feel strangely at sea still, but I’ve been told that it will pass.

The two men waiting for us turn their heads to the side in deference to Gray.

I am still tense despite nothing about this suggesting they are about to attack.

“I was not expecting a welcome,” Gray says.

“This is not so much of a welcome,” the man on the right says with a grimace, setting the tone.

Introductions are made. The taller man on the right, with a lean build and gray at his temples, is Saul. His shorter companion, who bears him a striking resemblance, is his son, Don. They are Gray’s uncle and cousin, I learn.

“Did you find them?” Saul asks.

“Aye, both of them. They are waiting aboard the ship.”

---