Page 112 of The Wolf in My Tavern

A year as a prisoner of orcs, only to come home to this. Not that it is easy for anyone. He is not a child anymore, I remind myself. Has not been for a long while.

“If that is what it takes, then yes.”

He nods, decisive, in total agreement. I am fucking proud of him.

“Saul, Don, you will travel ahead to the Halket clan and speak to Eric, their king. You will travel faster as wolves. Tell him I am calling on that favor. But also ensure he knows who my quarrel is with.” My grin is wry. “He will be sharpening his ax before you finish the conversation. We will follow on by horse.”

“If you need to go—” Ada starts to speak.

“Not a fucking chance I will leave you alone,” I say.

Callum

We head into the courtyard and prepare the horses for travel. Saul and Don leave everything behind, shift, and take off for the clans.

My beast remains alert and prepared for what is to come.

He has lain dormant for so long. He tells me he was never warranted within Bleakness and understood the risk of presenting himself there.

My mind drifts back to Bleakness and my father. I am sorrowful that I never got a chance to speak to him in person, and I wonder how he felt when he read the note. He will understand, and if he were here now and could offer his counsel, he would urge me to embrace all that has happened: to embrace my new place and do all I can to help this decimated pack in their hour of need.

Perhaps I should question Gray, his integrity, and the integrity of his pack more. Maybe they are warmongers who brought this upon themselves.

Yet something is growing between us, a burgeoning connection I feel in the center of my chest. I sometimes get a fleeting impression of deep emotions welling within Gray. His possessiveness toward Ada is a mirror of my own. But when he speaks of his father or his fallen pack, I hear reverence and a keen loss that does not speak of a monster nor a monstrous pack.

Instinct tells me my beast would not accept him if his morals were weak, that he is good and his pack worthy of saving.

When I am so far from home and my father’s guidance, I feel, in some ways, alone and yet also reborn. There is no one here to tell me what to do. I must decide that for myself. Today I realize I have been making my own decisions for a while. My father would listen to my concerns but encourage me to draw conclusions for myself, allowing me to grow and become a man—to become an alpha.

I miss him. It has only been a week, and I miss him.

I dare say that Ada misses the people of the tavern: Tim, the human-orc proprietor who took her in, Betsy and all the other staff who became friends with her.

We cannot look backward; there is only a path before us and a future yet unknown.

My decision to be with Gray and Ada is the right one—the only one.

Ada

A distant wolf’s cry brings a stillness to the tavern courtyard. As one, every head lifts and turns.

Another howl.

“Inside now!” Gray roars.

The air crackles and pops around as shifters take wolf form.

I turn rigid with fear—the need to flee, battling with the confusion as to where I might escape to.

The tavern lads scatter up the ladder into the loft above the barn. The proprietor pokes his head out the back tavern door only to slam it shut again. There is a distinct rattle that suggests he just shoved the bolt into place.

Callum’s body judders as he tries to shift. He seems to warp between the two forms for an agonizing period, his face contorted before he finally manifests as his bipedal beast.

“Get her to safety!” Gray growls, and I turn to look back at him just as he slams into a charging wolf. Knocking him to the ground, his teeth snap and he tears out the wolf’s throat.

The air leaves my lungs as Callum tosses me over his shoulder and takes off at a run.

Around us, the courtyard turns to chaos and blood as shifters collide with savage intent.

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