Page 5 of Howls & Harvest

Back in the main room, I find Suzette and Throk setting the table. Throk’s massive green hands dwarf the delicate plates he’s arranging, yet he handles them with surprising gentleness.

“Feeling more settled?” she asks, glancing up at me.

I shrug, not trusting myself to speak. How can I explain that every moment in this place makes me question my sanity more?

A knock at the door makes me jump. Throk moves to answer it, ducking slightly to fit through the doorway. I stand frozen in place as Throk opens the door, revealing a figure that makes my breath catch in my throat.

The man—if you can call him that—towers in the doorway, his powerful frame barely contained by the entrance. His face is more wolf than human, with a strong muzzle lined with sharp teeth that gleam as he grins. Thick, dark fur covers every visible inch of his body, and his eyes—a piercing, intelligent blue—look at me with an intensity that makes me shiver—with very little fear involved.

“Ronan, come on in, buddy.” Throk steps back so he can enter.

The newcomer—Ronan—ducks slightly to enter, his clawed hands gripping a stack of firewood. “Thanks, Throk. Hope I’m not interrupting.”

His voice is deep and gravelly, with an animalistic undertone that seems to vibrate through the air. I can’t stop staring, gaze darting between his wolfish features, the dense fur covering his arms, and the way his muscles ripple with each movement in that tight flannel shirt.

Throk claps a massive green hand on Ronan’s shoulder. “Not at all. We were just about to have dinner, so you aren’t late. Ronan, this is Candice, Suzette’s sister.”

He looks at me again, and I swallow hard.

“Nice to meet you, Candice,” he says, setting down the firewood that reveals a thick tail wagging enthusiastically. When he stands up and turns, he extends a clawed hand.

I reach out automatically, and his hand swallows mine. His fur is surprisingly soft, and I feel the strength in his grip. “H-hi,” I manage to stammer out. “You have a very...unique look.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to kick myself.Way to go, Candice. Real smooth.

To my surprise, he doesn’t seem offended. Instead, his muzzle curls into an amused smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “Not everyone appreciates the rugged charm of a lycan.”

“A lycan?” I repeat, my curiosity overriding my embarrassment. “You mean like...a werewolf?”

Ronan chuckles, the sound a low rumble that seems to reverberate through my chest. “Something like that, yeah. Though we prefer ‘lycan’—less negative connotations. Plus, werewolves have the ability to shift between human and full wolf form. Lycans are more like the classic wolfman. What you see is what you get,” he adds with a little spin.

I can’t stop staring at his broad back in the blue flannel, and I suspect he catches me when he completes his turn, and our gazes meet again. Heat suffuses my cheeks. I nod, trying to process this new information. First orcs, now werewolves—or lycans, rather. What’s next, vampires?

Suzette emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel once again. “Dinner’s almost ready. Ronan, you’re staying, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says, flashing a toothy grin. “Especially not with new company.”

He glances at me again, and the heat returns to my cheeks. There’s something undeniably magnetic about him, a raw, primal energy that both intimidates and intrigues me.

“So, Candice,” says Ronan as we all move toward the dining area. “What brings you to Evershift Haven? Aside from visiting your sister, of course.”

I laugh nervously. “Oh, you know, just thought I’d drop by a magical town full of creatures I thought only existed in stories. Totally normal weekend plans.”

Ronan’s laugh is rich and warm. “Ah, sarcasm. I like it. You’ll fit right in here.”

We settle around the table, and I’m seated directly across from Ronan. Suzette brings out a steaming pot of what smells like vegetable soup.

While we begin to eat, I watch Ronan. His table manners are impeccable, despite his clawed hands and elongated muzzle. He catches me staring and winks, causing me to quickly look down at my bowl. Being a vegetarian, I passed on the meaty bones the others have in their soups. I’m not entirely confident those are cow bones, so I probably wouldn’t indulge even if I did eat meat.

“So, Ronan,” I say, desperate to break the awkward silence. “What do you do here in Evershift Haven? Besides delivering firewood, I mean.”

He sets down his spoon, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a lumberjack, actually. My family’s been in the business for generations. We supply most of the wood for the town—everything from construction materials to firewood.”

I nod, fascinated despite myself. “That must be interesting work. Do you use...magic? Or just good old-fashioned muscle power?”

Ronan flexes an arm playfully, his bicep bulging beneath the flannel. “A bit of both, actually. Lycan strength comes in handy, but we’ve got some enchanted tools that make the job easier. Plus, it helps to be able to communicate with the forest spirits.”

“Forest spirits?” I echo, my eyes widening. “You mean, there are actual spirits in the woods?”

Throk chuckles. “Oh, yeah, the Whispering Woods are full of ‘em. Dryads, mostly. They’re pretty particular about which trees can be harvested. Some of the trees themselves are magical too.”

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