Page 142 of The Wolf in My Tavern

“Is it the rutting kind of surprise?” Callum asks, smirking.

“Later,” I say, when Ada looks likewise interested. Her pregnancy makes her greedy for attention. The lass is assuredly not happy unless she has had her due in dick or cum.

“No.” Both their faces fall. “But there might be some of that later when we all return.”

He huffs out a breath. Ada giggles.

They are curious, but I resist the urge to spill.

Sometimes, surprises are better. And I believe they will forgive my lack of disclosure.

Ada

At the pack entrance, Callum shifts. He has full command over his shift now and can choose the size and form he wishes to take, whether it is an enormous beast or a regular shifter-sized wolf… which is more like a horse and not really regular at all.

Gray lifts me onto Callum’s back before passing me a satchel carrying their clothes, further piquing my curiosity. We will be visiting humans or a human settlement, then, I presume.

Gray shifts, and we trot through the forest, both my mates in their wolf form and dappled by early morning sunlight. Gray is a beautiful black-gray color, and Callum is a stunning russet. They both glimmer in the light: powerful, magnificent males, and all mine.

How did a poor girl from Bleakness ever get so lucky?

I find joy in my life, have a place to call mine, two wonderful mates, and new friends among the pack, especially Lizbeth, who is so much fun and intimidated by no one. Although I am still a quiet lass by nature, I am drawn to my opposite, letting her playful nature draw me out.

She tells me she likes my quietness, my constant shocked gasps, and that I still blush when my naked mates stride into the room like this is normal… which it is now, but still, some aspects of me I expect will never change.

Although I love Lizbeth like a sister, I still miss Betsy and her voracity for mischief. Betsy saw me as I was and watched me grow into a woman brave enough to challenge a powerful shifter, one who I thought was snatching a lass. It was a foolish challenge, given Gray was seeking to get his brother and former betrothed to safety, and even now, it still makes me blush and chuckle when I recall that crazy day.

I carry scars inside—a legacy of my father. They are part of me and can never be undone. So I don’t try to. Instead, I acknowledge them, even as I find the strength to be bolder in claiming what I want.

It bolsters my confidence that my mates love it when I make the first move or show possessiveness when any hussies try to catch their eyes—shifters are naturally bold.

I may be small, but I have discovered I have a feisty side, not only with my mates. I have seen too much cruelty in my life to let such behavior pass. One beta male has already been tossed out of the pack by my request when I caught him mistreating his mate. I still tremble to recall the terrible shock when I happened upon them and found him hurting her in front of their child.

Callum and Gray were swift to administer justice and see the bastard beaten and exiled from the pack. A widower shifter stepped up to care for the young woman and her babe, and when I visited her last week, she was already glowing to be free of the abuse.

I find strength in my mates to be who I am destined to be, a protector of any who would find themselves bullied or downtrodden by those of weak dispositions. And I know my mates are likewise proud of me and take strength from my ways. Gray says I am an omega with an alpha heart. Callum calls me his warrior queen.

I see the love I feel for them reflected in their eyes every day and feel it in the approving hum of the bond.

The air grows warmer and the sun rises higher as we travel. These lands know safety under Callum and Gray’s watch. It is a good time to bring pups into the world.

As the village comes into view, I feel Callum’s stillness beneath me, and it sets a strange prickling sensation across the surface of my skin. His nose lifts to scent, and he turns to look at me.

We stop at the outskirts of the village, where Callum and Gray shift to human form and change into clothes Gray had tucked in a bag.

Callum is silent as he slips on his pants, boots, and leather jerkin. Gray likewise dons his clothes, making them once more a respectable human… with a side serve of beast.

I send Gray a questioning look. He only grins and takes my hand, walking us toward the tavern.

I have visited Blue Bell once before when we first arrived. Callum’s parents lived in this village before they fled to Bleakness.

I was charmed by the first glimpse.

The tiny village is nestled among trees on the side of the River Bell. The homes are clustered around a high street with a few shops, a tavern, and a church.

There is a new sign outside the tavern depicting a gnarly old green man; the lettering carved underneath is similarly painted in green.

“They changed the name,” Callum says, frowning. “Wasn’t it called The Forester’s Arms? When did they change the name?”

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