Page 26 of The Wolf in My Tavern

I growl. A patron sitting at the neighboring table gives me a wary look.

“That little prick is not rutting her,” I say. “Likely she wouldn’t notice his small dick even if he was?—”

Drake’s snort is derisive.

“Is he?” I regret how much I give away in asking that question.

He raises a brow. “As often as he can, I’d imagine. I’ve seen them slip out the back together, and I heard her sounds of pleasure when I was heading up to our quarters Wednesday night.” He winks. “He might have a small prick, but he knows how to use it.”

The metal tankard dents under my fingers.

He smirks. “Do not destroy another tankard. Had to pay extra coins last time.”

But I’m not looking at Drake or the tankard buckling under my fist; no, my eyes are on him, all bright-eyed and perky with his ginger hair and fresh face with freckles. Barely a man, in my opinion. And a beta. He is no protection. Just the thought of them marrying and him fucking his whelps into her belly when he’s barely more than a whelp himself is enough to bring a red haze down over my eyes.

He’s not good enough for her. Not by a long shot. She needs a real man to protect her.

She needs a wolf.

“Fuck’s sake, Gray!” Drake chuckles.

I release the tankard.

I’m here for a reason, and my reason isn’t Ada.

I still want to go over there and snap his neck. Just like I want to break the arm of every bastard in the room who puts his hand on Ada. I’m definitely going to be having words with the guardsman in the corner who put Ada on his lap, consequences be damned.

“Your claws,” Drake says casually.

When I glance down, I realize I have partially shifted, and my claws are embedded in the table. It takes a bit of effort before I can yank them back out, and they can shift back to human form. I should go back to my stew. Only stew can’t hold my attention for long when Ada, blushing a pretty shade of pink, passes the table where Callum and his father sit.

As she leans in to say something, his eyes lower to her cleavage.

How the fuck can he possibly satisfy such a saucy lass?

“He’s a strapping lad for a beta,” Drake says conversationally like he’s not skewering my belly with every word. “Although Ada is not opposed to his attention for all she is so tiny by comparison. Got that spark, you know?”

“Do not talk about Ada and her spark unless you want me to rearrange your face.”

He chuckles and takes another swig of his beer, unbothered by my threat. “Fine then. I heard there’s a certain ship due at the end of the week.”

I am all business at this news. “You think they might be on it?”

He nods, expression turning grave. “Aye, that’s the word.”

Cold pinpricks tickle the back of my neck. I can’t let myself get distracted by a pretty lass with ebony hair and a sensual smile. I don’t even know why I like her. She’s not my usual type, being tiny for a start and little more than skin and bones. Well, her tits are plentiful, and her ass is not too bad either. My wolf paces, telling me he knows all he needs to in her scent.

The man in me needs a little more than base instincts.

The man in me is fucking poleaxed by her smile and has tossed sleeplessly on too many nights, imagining how her pretty face will scrunch as I plow her with my dick.

Callum finally drags his eyes from Ada’s tits and smiles up at her. He’s not for Ada.

“Then who is?” Drake asks.

Fuck! I only realize now that I spoke out loud.

“You?” Drake continues, making a scoffing noise when I don’t answer. “The lass is a survivor and doesn’t belong with our kind, where pack life would only fuck her up worse. Sweet lass like Ada belongs with her own kind. He is a good man, by all accounts. Put a beating on her father for his part in selling Ada out.”

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