Page 131 of The Wolf in My Tavern

The position I have her in puts her pussy close to my nose. Her scent fills my lungs such that it’s hard to remember where I am going, why I am not tossing her to the rough stone floor and plowing her already.

My steps falter as I consider doing exactly that.

“Keep moving,” Gray barks—he is very fucking bossy where her rutting is concerned.

Somehow, I remember myself, the plan—where I am supposed to be taking her—and my feet beginning to move again.

A pack beta passes us on the right. He does a double take as he sees Ada over my shoulder, and his eyes widen.

I nod. As he takes off at a run, a dark grin blooms on my lips.

He will soon spread the word.

Finally, this is happening. Finally, we are going to claim our mate.

Dappled sunlight hits me as I pass through the arched doorway.

Over my shoulder, Ada gasps.

From behind comes the howls and yips of nearing wolves.

Ada

The world is spinning. Or maybe it is me.

After the dark corridor, the dappled sunlight comes as a shock, and I lift my head.

I gasp, catching sight of the semicircle of tiered seating facing a stage-like area.

One might think this would cool my ardor, but it does not. Now it’s like molten heat washing over my skin.

Callum lowers me to my feet, and I sway, clinging to him as his arms gently circle me. My mind plays catch-up as my gaze lifts, taking in the high vaulted ceiling with narrow fissures that let in splashes of light here and there and onto the stone floor on which I stand.

A wooden platform with wild animals beautifully carved into the base covers a large section of the stone floor, and in the center is a fur-topped wooden post with the same intricate carvings: a wolf to the right, a fox to the left, and squirrels, mice, and birds peeking between the carved leaves. The wood, dark with age, glistens in the weak light, seeming to dance and move as though alive.

It is a very strange post, slightly wider at the top, almost like a seat… only too high for me… it would better suit Callum or Gray… when they are the size of their shifted beasts.

I swallow.

The howl of approaching wolves sets goosebumps springing across my heated skin.

Gray and Callum flash to their beast forms, their clothing fluttering to the ground.

“You don’t need this,” Callum rumbles. Grasping the hem of my hide dress, he rips it over my head and tosses it to the floor.

My heart beats wildly, and my eyelids become heavy. I see the wolves on the periphery of my vision—the flash of fur, their nails scratching and skittering against the stone ground, hear their yips and howls.

I feel strangely empowered, even as my body turns weak. This is where they will claim me before the pack.

Gray stops beside Callum. He cups the side of my face, drawing my eyes toward his. “When a pack leader takes a mate, this is how it is done.” His hand lowers, skimming over my shoulder and all the way down my arm until he captures my hand.

He draws me from Callum, leading me to the post in the middle of the platform. “Climb up, little mate.”

His words produce an instant quickening sensation in my chest, even as my body feels like it pitches into a frenzy.

Climb?

It is then I notice the grooves that make steps of sorts. In a trance, I climb, grasping his hand tightly.

---