Page 215 of Wolf Roulette

On my gold stage, I played the last verse of “You Make My Dreams” by Daryl Hall and John Oates on my saxophone, swaying to the upbeat rhythm.

Patrons from the big wide filledThe Dens—even more so than my first encounters with the place.

Rounding off with two shrill staccato notes, I swept a small bow and prepared for my next song.

An arm circled my waist and I was plucked off the stage.

Sascha deposited me in front of him. “You’re done for the night, beautiful wolf.”

His gaze roamed over my curve-hugging gold dress. I’d dressed to match the stage again—sue me.

“Like what you see?” I held my sax aside to loop an arm around his neck and press against him.

“Always and increasingly.”

His bemused tone reflected my thoughts on the subject. If there was a limit to this bond thing, we hadn’t found it. One day, I’d just combust and rise from the ashes as a sex toy instead of a phoenix.

“You’re done for the night,” he repeated. “Mum said you need to get enough sleep before tomorrow.”

A nearly one-century-old werewolf was conveying his mother’s orders. Adorable.

“Guess I should listen then.” I peeked up through my lashes.

He regarded me seriously. “I want to show you something.”

I inhaled his nervous anticipation. “Okay.”

He grabbed my case while I collected my water and phone. I greeted the incoming deejay before following Sascha through the bar toward the casino.

“This way,” he said.

“You’re very bossy tonight,” I noted.

“I’m not usually bossy though.”

Do you think something is up, girl?

Booker hummed.He’s sweating.

He was. “Everything alright?”

Sascha forced a grin.

We weaved between the last tables and entered the exchange area where patrons happily cashed in chips—some of them not so happily.

We stopped in front of a large board with a velvet curtain over the top.

Sascha lifted my saxophone over my head and rested it atop the case out of the way of any drunk patrons

He took both my hands. “Andie. Tomorrow is our mating ceremony. We’ve come a long way to get here. I wanted to take this chance to say that if you choose me, you’ll be assured of a supportive and caring partner with a proven track record in the bedroom.”

Oh my god.Was he pitching himself to me? “Sascha, there’s no need—”

“If the privacy thing is an issue, I’ll build a cabin elsewhere for us. Any concerns, then I want to hear them. You know I’ll work with you on this.”

Lack of privacy wasn’t an issue.

“Where has this come from?” I asked weakly.

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