Page 99 of The Wolf in My Tavern

“What?” Arlo mutters, tone combative. “Why would?—”

He snaps his mouth shut as Drake fixes him with a glare.

“Have you been so long from the pack that you forget Gray is not merely your brother but your superior?” Drake’s voice cracks like a whip, and I feel Arlo’s instant submission through the pack bond. “Gray gave an order. Question him or me again, and I won’t hesitate to teach you your place.”

Arlo’s cheeks are flushed. He turns his face to the side, bearing his throat in submission.

Drake lets him hold there before he dismisses him. “Take Lizbeth inside and await our instructions.”

They leave like a couple of scolded whelps.

It might bring a smile to my face in other circumstances, but the premonition of danger grows the closer we approach the shoreline.

The main sail folds amid bellowed orders, and our passage slows. A great rattle signifies the anchor being dropped.

The captain joins me at the prow.

I’ve already given him a hefty bag of coins to cover the damage Callum has done. They will put into port a day away from here for repairs before returning to their master on the other side of the Lumen Sea.

“We’ll be ready t’ row ye t’ shore shortly, Master Gray,” he says.

“Can you wait here for a short time?” I ask.

He looks from me to shore and back again. “Aye, ’twill only take us half a day t’ get t’ the port. We can hold here fer a while. Be ye expectin’ trouble?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “But something is off. I cannot say what, but I would not have our mates exposed to a trap. I will signal if it is safe for them to come to shore. Keep alert. If anyone but us should approach, raise your sails and leave.”

The captain nods. “Understood,” he says. Turning, he issues orders to prepare our boat but to be ready in case they need to set sail quickly.

I feel their presence as much as I see it out of the corner of my eye as Callum and Ada join us.

“It is so beautiful,” she says, a note of wonder in her voice. “I have never seen trees so close before.”

My eyes shift from Ada to Callum and back. It would be safer for them to be inside, but I cannot help but take her small hand in mine. A spark shoots from that simple connection to the burgeoning bond that grows between us—one that will not form fully until we are mated by rutting her through her first heat.

Callum grunts like my taking her hand pisses him off, and he claims her other hand.

Damn whelp.

I redirect my gaze back to the scene before me, seeing it anew through Ada’s eyes. It is a tiny harbor town, the wharf unsuited to galleons the size of this, has a collection of fishing boats and smaller vessels lined up. Tweed Head is nestled to either side of a narrow estuary carved into a heavily forested valley. It is made up of narrow streets and tightly packed buildings with red slate roofs. A tall wall surrounds the central town, while the wharf, dock buildings, and much of the industry is outside. It has seen its share of conflict in the past, and a garrison from Langatta is barracked there, the town falling under that kingdom for taxes and protection.

The picturesque, prosperous town provides a sharp contrast to Bleakness, so drab and gray.

“Beyond the town and valley, you can see the distant mountains where many packs, including Ludstone, make their home,” I say.

“It is also my home,” Callum says. “I don’t know the name of the village my father and mother hail from, but it is close to pack lands, I believe.”

I sense the emotion in his words on a deeper level through the burgeoning pack link that will one day allow him to mind speak with me. “This is your birthright,” I say.

His brows pull together.

“You carry royal blood,” I say. I don’t know what we are about to face, but I need him to be part of this, to feel connected to not only Ada and me but, by extension, my pack. “No one has seen a shifter with royal blood in many years. Not in my lifetime nor my father’s. During the great pack wars, they were thought to be slaughtered down to the last babe.”

Ada’s breath catches.

“You are the rightful leader, Callum. Not of my pack, but all the packs.”

His throat works. “I am no fucking leader. I don’t know how,” he says quietly. “I am a blacksmith’s apprentice, not even a full blacksmith.”

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