Page 44 of The Wolf in My Tavern

I glance up at Gray. He nods.

I step away from him, feeling a sense of separation so acute that it is all I can do to put one foot before the other. Barely sparing a glance for the rest of the room, I take Betsy’s hand and let her guide me out of the room and up the stairs to my attic bedroom.

One of the serving lasses follows behind. She passes a flask to Betsy, who takes it with a nod and hands it to me.

“Here, drink some of this, Ada,” she says. “It’ll help with the shaking, at least.”

I take a gulp, feeling it burn a passage down my throat before it settles fire in my gut. I take another drink.

“I think that’s enough,” Betsy says as she liberates me of the flask and returns it to the serving lass. “Go on, May. I’ll help Ada get settled down. Keep an eye downstairs, would you? Let us know if you hear aught. I’ll be down shortly.”

May leaves, and Betsy helps me undress, undoes my boots, and passes me my nightgown to slip on.

She leans in to kiss my cheek. “Did the brandy help?”

I nod and offer a watery smile.

“Do you want me to fetch Callum?” Her earnest eyes search mine.

I shake my head quickly.

Her face softens. “My pa would not think aught of it if that is what worries you. And, besides, Callum is your betrothed now, and no one would judge were he to slip in the bed beside you and hold you.”

“I don’t know why,” I say honestly. “But I don’t want Callum to see me like this.” I don’t voice the strange, unsettled feeling in my belly, the one that makes me want to go to Gray, to stand beside him as he learns his fate, to soothe his inner wolf who has imprinted on me and must be scared and anxious with me out of his sight. “Will Gray get into trouble?”

“I don’t know.” Betsy shrugs, her face solemn. “Maybe. Maybe not. If what Drake said was true and his wolf has imprinted, that might be considered mitigating circumstances.”

Imprinted. The term is unfamiliar to me, yet the strange fluttering inside tells me all I need to know.

Betsy brushes my hair behind my ear. “Go on, lass. He has not been able to keep his eyes off you since the day he first arrived. I’m not surprised to learn his wolf has taken to you and considers you his mate. But Gray is here on business, and that business will likely take him away… Even if his actions don’t see him hanged for killing a man.”

And now I feel sick.

“Pa has contacts within the city guardsmen. He will do all he can to ensure this is dealt with swiftly and quietly. It is not good for the tavern or anyone in Bleakness to have shifters tried for murder. It brings attention to matters we would all soon see kept secret.”

I nod. The sickness does not abate.

“Try to get some rest,” she says as she helps me into bed. “If I have news, I will come up and let you know… I’ll pop by later to check on you either way.”

My hand reaches out to take hers. “Thank you, Betsy, for everything. But most of all, for being my friend.”

“Always, lass,” she says. “Always.” Offering a weak smile, she slips out of my room.

Alone, the tears begin to fall. I twist to peer up through the window. Tonight, the moon is hidden behind clouds. “Thank you, Master Gray, for protecting me. I pray that you shall not be punished as a result.”

Chapter Seventeen

Gray

Ihave fucked up. I can’t believe how badly I have fucked up. If I were to position this on a sliding scale from not fucked up to totally fucked up, I would be off the fucked up end and running for the hills.

Two city guardsmen arrive. The one who appears to be in charge goes by the name Anders. He stares down at the bodies bleeding all over the tavern floor and shakes his head while Tim explains in clear and concise terms what this is about. He seems to know the two guards enough to trust them with the real facts.

No one attempts to bind me, which would not end well, and less so given that the woman my wolf wants to mate with is separated from me by a mere set of stairs and a door.

My body trembles with my rage. I want to disembowel the dead bodies and smear their entrails across the floor. Drake stands attentively close. He knows my wolf is riding me hard. It has been a long time since I shifted. It is not safe to do so here, not even in the privacy of our room, for once my wolf is out, he will have only one thing on his fucking mind.

He prowls underneath the surface of my skin, lifting his head to sniff. He can scent her on us. He wants to feast on her and rut her into next week, to bite her and claim her.

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