Page 8 of Craved By a Wolf

Although betraying his fated one might not make her feel particularly warm and fuzzy towards him.

Kin shrugged it off. He would worry about the finer details later. He needed to find her first.

“Where is this Hella?” He lifted his gaze, settling it back on Abigail.

She glanced up from counting the coin in her register. “According to my friend, she lives in the fae town in Geneva.”

“Geneva.” He had never left the country before and now he was meant to head halfway across Europe?

He wasn’t sure what to expect, had never really paid much heed to his pack members who had gone abroad and returned with tales of their adventures, because he had been too busy running the clan and keeping it safe, and more concerned with what was happening at home rather than hundreds of miles away.

But visiting Switzerland couldn’t be any worse than staying here and slowly dying.

Kin reached into his jeans’ pocket and tossed several gold coins onto the counter in front of Abigail.

“I’ll be needing a token then.”

Chapter 3

MacKinnon twitched and whipped towards the lake to his left as the air there shifted, suddenly growing cooler. His claws punched long from his fingertips, ready in a heartbeat, and didn’t retract even when he saw the towering jet of water that rose high into the air and thundered down into the lake around one hundred feet out. A fountain. It resembled the one in the nearby mortal town of Geneva.

In fact, the whole fae town resembled Geneva, as if someone had copied it building for building. Although, this immortal town was much smaller than the one topside. It was just as bright and elegant though, with warm sunshine that beat down on the pale sandstone pavement and reflected off the balconied buildings to his right.

Several of them were hotels, and he had been tempted to call into one and secure himself a place to stay, but when he had approached the doorman, the male had looked aghast and Kin had caught his reflection in the revolving door.

Since then, he had been keeping his head down, deeply aware of the way many of the townsfolk paused to stare. He had never felt so conspicuous. He glared at a trio of black-haired females who stood by the shore, their violet eyes and pointed ears betraying their breed as much as their antiquated corseted dresses did. They all stared at him and only one of them looked curious. The other two looked disgusted.

Sure, he was a big male, and he probably had a face like a smacked arse right now because his mood was still deep in a ditch and showed no sign of improving thanks to the attention he was attracting, and his throat looked like someone had used it as a punchbag, but there was really no reason for all the finely dressed males and females to gawp at him.

He levelled a black look at the trio of elves, causing them to turn away.

He heaved a sigh as he looked ahead of him and saw only more nobles, coming and going along the promenade as if it was the fashionable thing to do. The gods only knew it probably was in a town like this one. It reeked of wealth.

Kin denied the urge to keep his head down as he walked, tipped his damned chin up and shoulders back instead, because he wasn’t going to be intimidated or cowed by these noble folk.

His gaze narrowed on a group of pointy eared males ahead of him, ones who wore green leather trousers and white shirts beneath a matching jerkin. Gold glittered around their wrists and adorned their ears, and their finely boned features settled into scowls as they caught sight of him. Kin scowled right back at them, barely leashing the urge that surged through him and had his claws itching to rip into their flesh, to wipe the haughty smirks off their fae faces.

Nymphs.

He growled through his clenched teeth, battling memories that bubbled to the surface. A darkened room. Candles bursting to life. Fae nobles forming a ring around him, seated on opulent gold and velvet chairs as servants scraped and bowed to them.

The crack of a whip.

Pain echoed down his spine, a ghost of his past that continued to taunt him whenever he let the memories come, whenever he wasn’t strong enough to deny them and they slipped free of the box he had locked them away in. It would be days before he had fully rid himself of them, freeing himself of their torment.

The sensible side of him said to move on, to ignore the nymphs because they couldn’t provide him with the information he needed and, therefore, they didn’t matter. The side of him that had been born in that dark part of his past, that refused to be tamed, rose to crush it and he pivoted towards the blond males, unable to stop himself. His claws lengthened further and his fangs bit into his gums as he strode towards them, rapidly crossing the span of flagstones that separated them. His breathing quickened, deepened, sending vital oxygen to his blood as he geared up for a fight.

One of the nymphs noticed him approaching and tapped another on the arm, and before Kin could kick off and grab at least one of them, the whole group had disappeared. Kin stopped where they had been and glared at the rippling blue water of the lake, breathing hard and struggling to rein in his anger and the urge to lash out at everyone who moved behind him. He fixed his focus on the water, staring beyond the surface to pick out the flora and fauna that called the lake home. He tracked a school of small fish, bewitched by how their silver sides made them flash whenever they changed direction and how they moved as one, in perfect symphony.

The scent of herbs and metal filled his nostrils.

MacKinnon turned and looked over his shoulder, seeking the source of it. He pivoted when he spotted two witches strolling along the street. They paused in front of the window of one of the stores.

He crossed the broad stretch of pavement to them, not failing to notice how their slight shoulders tensed beneath their plain black dresses as he closed in. He glanced at his reflection in the window they faced, locking gazes with the one on the left, and swallowed to wet his throat as he ran his hand over his wild dark hair.

“Excuse me, lasses, I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find a witch named Hella.” He made a point of stopping a good six feet from them, attempting to show them that he wasn’t a threat with his body language as well as his gentle tone of voice.

They turned to face him as one, ran an assessing gaze down him and then spoke to him.

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