Page 4 of Wolf's Forbidden Curse

I clicked the pen and started filling out the sections of the job application that I could—which was mainly just my name and phone number. I didn't have an up-to-date email address, and my work history was too much to get into. Thankfully, Al didn't question any of the parts I left blank. He took the paper from me when I was done, scanned the page, and nodded.

"Looks good." Then he paused. "Katrina O'Mally?"

I gulped. "Ye–yeah."

"That's an Irish last name." He eyed me for a moment. "You don't look very Irish to me."

"I am a little," I said. "On my dad's side. But going back a long way."

"Hmm."

"Under all this bleach blonde," I said, pointing to my head of short, spiky hair that I'd lightened in a motel sink a few weeks back. "There are strawberry-colored locks. And you should see a picture of my grandmother—she's got fiery red hair and freckles for days."

He cocked his head to the side but shrugged. "If you say so." Al put his hand out for a shake. "Welcome to the team, Katrina."

I smiled through my anxiety and took his hand. "Thanks. It really means a lot."

"Don't mention it. Just work hard and don't cause any trouble, and I have a feeling this will work out swimmingly for all involved."

I nodded and locked eyes with him to let him know I was serious.

"I can do that."

CHAPTER 2

RORY

The feeling of wet grass underneath my paws was better than any after-work cocktail. The wind rippling through my thick fur and the heat building in my powerful leg muscles were addictive sensations only other shifters could understand. We all shared it, though—that desire, no, need—to get out of our human forms for a while and run as fast as we possibly could. It had been over two weeks since I’d had the chance to do this, and I was soaking up every second.

The only thing better than going for a solo run through the woods outside of town was to run with the rest of the Rat Pack through the abandoned warehouse behind the fishery. There were platforms and obstacles we’d made out of discarded shipping materials, creating a dynamic course of ups and downs that tested our agility and speed in ways even the forest couldn’t. After hours, when everyone had clocked out and gone home for the night, the surrounding area was a ghost town, and we could make as much noise as we wanted.

That’s where we were Thursday night. Matt, Cornelius, Nicolette, and I had planned to blow off a little steam since we’d all had a long week. Nic and I were clocking in double time at the fishery ever since two guys quit out of the blue a few weeks back. Matt was dealing with a rowdy classroom of elementary school kids barely hanging onto their sanity with less than a month left before the summer break. And Cornelius—well, it didn’t matter what kind of week Cornelius had. He was always stressed out. The run was supposed to help snap us out of our rut, and it was working at first.

Until Matt came around a blind corner and barreled into Nic, who was coming from the other direction. There was a crash, a yelp, and then a very human groan. I leapt off the shipping container I’d been darting across and was halfway back into my human form before my feet even hit the ground. I wasn’t the largest shifter in our group or the fastest, but nobody could switch forms as swiftly and smoothly as I could. It was a trick that had saved my skin on more than one occasion.

“Everyone good?” I called out. My voice echoed to the higher levels of the warehouse where I’d heard the ruckus.

“Just a twisted paw,” Nic said a couple of seconds later. “I’m fine, but no more running for me tonight.”

Cornelius came up next to me, already wearing his jeans. He handed me my clothes. “I knew we should’ve been clearer about our routes. This never happens in the forest.”

I laughed and shrugged my clothes on. “You’re always allowed to go running in the forest, Cornelius. We don’t try to stop you. We like that you’re a traditionalist, but we also like to do things a little differently sometimes.”

“More like all the time,” he scoffed. “We never run in nature anymore.”

Out of the four of us, Cornelius was the one who missed our old pack the most. Although he didn’t agree with the rhetoric we were taught growing up—none of us did—he missed the less problematic traditions that our pack held near and dear. I couldn’t blame him, but sometimes I wondered just how dedicated he was to the little pack we’d created for ourselves out here in Solara Bay.

Matt and Nic emerged from the staircase in various stages of undress. Nic’s upper body was exposed, but since we’d all grown up together, it was nothing we hadn’t seen before. She bent down to grab her shirt from the ground by her feet and winced as she pulled it over her head.

“Lemme see.” I held my hand out, and she gave me hers. Her wrist was already starting to bruise, and she gasped when I tried to bend it back, but at least it wasn’t broken. “You’re gonna have to stay off it for a while. If you go running too soon after a sprain, you could end up making it a lot worse.”

“Thanks for the biology lesson,” she said, taking her hand back. “I’ve had a sprained wrist before.”

“I’m only saying this because I know you’re going to want to push your luck, but you’ll end up regretting it. Take it easy for a bit, and let’s call it a night on the running front.” I clapped my hands together and grinned. “Oh—I know. Who’s up for a good old-fashioned bar crawl?”

“Yes!” Nic said, her face lighting up. “Let’s do it!”

“I can’t,” said Matt. “It’s a school night.”

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