Page 58 of Cursed Wolf

The light showed more of his face now, deepening the shadows under his brow and cheekbones to make him look even more sinister. And his irises…were they red?

“You smell an awful lot like a werewolf for a human,” he noted casually. The corner of his mouth ticked up like that amused him. “Like to roll around with the furballs, do you?”

“I’m…dating a werewolf.” The fact that I uttered that sentence aloud to a red-eyed stranger in a seedy alley in a strange city full of winged beings felt like the least bizarre thing that had happened to me lately.

“Dating?” The man laughed, then coughed, red smoke coming out of his mouth and nostrils. “You’re so painfully human, it’s adorable. Wolves don’t date. If one’s sniffing after you, he’s convinced you’re his mate for life. Although…” His red gaze fell to my neck and his pupils seemed to dilate at the sight of my pulse. “No mating bite, which is interesting.”

Something clicked inside me when he said mate. I didn’t fully understand but some instinct told me that was the right word. Tryn was my mate, and that meant no one else could touch me.

Feeling emboldened by this knowledge, I crossed my arms and finally managed to step back. “We haven’t reached that point yet, but yes, I do have a mate. Now, do you know how to get to Stout & Spirit?”

“Stout & Spirit?” The man laughed again, his canine teeth looking particularly long and sharp. “You’re a long way from Vargmore, little human.”

“But…you know how to get there?” I didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or hopeful. At least I hadn’t stumbled into a world completely different from Tryn’s.

“I do. And because I’m such a nice guy, I wouldn’t even be opposed to taking you there.”

He was just as much a nice guy as scorpions were cuddly.

“No, thank you.” I backed away more insistently now, eager to come out of the shadows. “I’ll find another way. Have a nice night.”

“Who’s your mate?” The guy tossed the butt of his spent cigarette and went back to leaning against the wall. He seemed in no hurry to follow me out of the alley.

“Tryn,” I answered without thinking.

The man’s gaze snapped to mine, red eyes bright and alert. Then he moved at such blinding speed, pulling up right in front of me.

“You’re mated to a Howling Death wolf?” he asked in an awed whisper.

“I…” A memory came up of Tryn’s broad back, right before I embraced him on the motorcycle. The leather vest he wore with a large patch of a wolf’s skull on the back, jaws open wide.

“…Yes,” I said in a daze, like the answer was being forcefully pulled from my throat.

“Fascinating,” came the raspy drawl.

The moment I tried to look at the man again, his hand passed in front of my face. My vision went dark and my knees buckled like a puppet’s strings that had been cut.

“Easy, now.” The man caught me before I hit the ground, sliding an arm behind my knees and my back.

Fear and alarm rang through me, but I couldn’t move or make a sound. The red-eyed man carried me like a bride, my head resting on a leanly muscled shoulder. His touch was revolting to me, but I couldn’t do a damn thing. And then my consciousness started to fade like I’d been drugged.

“Let’s get you home to your mate, little human,” the man said cheerfully as I clung to wakefulness with all my strength. “And if everything goes well, I won’t even have to hurt you.”

Chapter 20

Tryn

Drowning one’s sorrows was such a cliche. But I suppose cliches exist for a reason.

“I’m cutting you off after this one.” Shiloh gave me the stink eye as she placed another beer in front of me.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna shift and piss on something,” I told her. “Or not shift and piss. I guess that would be worse.”

“Shifted or not, I will swat you on the nose with a rolled-up magazine if you do.” Despite the threat, her glare softened. “I hate seeing you like this, Tryn.”

“Thanks. I hate feeling like this, but what can you do?”

Shiloh’s hand floated up to her neck, where the two crescent-shaped scars of Orson’s teeth marked her as his mate. His one and only partner for life.

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