Page 87 of The Wolf in My Tavern

And then he turns and walks away. He leaves a lamp. His footsteps creak the steps as he moves up. Drake nods to me, a small smile curling his lips. He winks at me. “Give him a good thumping when you figure out how to get out.”

“Drake,” Gray barks.

Drake chuckles. After taking one last look at me, he climbs the stairs and disappears from view.

The hatch shuts.

I am alone with a swaying lamp and the deluge of information my mind must grapple with.

Some parts are easier to accept than others.

I recognize I have a wolf inside.

A wolf that can help me to get out.

A wolf that can give me revenge against the bastard who dared to put his hands on my woman.

My wolf perks up—his tail lashes from side to side.

He believes Gray is full of himself and overestimates his prowess.

He believes we are bigger and stronger.

He also has a lot of pride in my disposition, which he says is gentle and noble and befitting my royal blood.

But also, that we are undoubtedly a beast at our very heart. And if we choose to, we can be anything we wish.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Gray

“Is it a good idea to leave him alone?” Drake asks as I call one of the deckhands over to ensure the hold door is securely locked.

“I have no fucking idea,” I say. “But there’s only so much damage he can do down there.”

“Hmm,” he says.

“What does that mean?” I demand. The crew are busy. We are closing in on the port where we will take to land again. I cannot wait to get off the fucking ship. I hate the sea almost as much as I hate Bleakness, and I do not like Bleakness at all.

The air carries a familiar breeze. Although we still have much travel ahead of us once we reach solid ground, home is calling to me. It feels like forever since we left our pack lands. The culmination of a year’s travel. And so much that has happened in between.

“You could have helped him more,” he says.

“Fine, I could have helped him more.” I shrug. “He’s also lucky I didn’t rip his throat out.”

Drake chuckles. He does not take much seriously. Except for my former promised mate… and my younger brother, it would seem.

He has been working through his own issues.

I’m relieved to have him here with me. Drake has always been a good second to me. He has supported me without question and pointed out with honesty when I have been an idiot, which has been more frequent of late.

He is not a blood brother but a pack brother, and that is closer in many ways.

The door to the captain’s cabin opens, and a bedraggled Ada steps out wrapped up in a voluminous fur.

“What the fuck is she doing outside? Who unlocked the fucking door?” I roar at the nearest deckhand.

He starts to stammer a response, sees my mate charging toward me with murder in her eyes, and promptly shuts up and scurries away.

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