Page 10 of Whisper Woods

“Good morning, Wolf,” the greeting is mellow, with a thread of steel behind them. A warning. Plastering on my most charming smile, the one that never fails me, I keep my body relaxed and non threatening as I turn to face the centauride.

The centauride staring me down has a beautiful chestnut coat, with three white socks. Her tail swishes impatiently as she waits for my response. She also doesn’t seem too impressed with my smile, a stony frown on her face, arms crossed over her bare chest. A sword is strapped to her back. I can see the glimmer of the silver between her long brown braids.

While they are all technically part of one herd, centaurs and centaurides mostly live separately after puberty. The women raise the young as a group. Biology means nothing to them when it comes to parenthood. The herd is a unit as far as they are concerned, and they all work together.

As the foals grow, the centaurs become more involved. After puberty they either move on to the males or stay with the females. They are actually pretty chill about the foals choosing where they want to go, too. There are always some centaurides who choose to be with the centaurs, or vice versa and the herd is always really accepting of them. It’s only on full moons that the clan reunites, with the elders of the herd taking care of the young for the night. For like, obvious reasons.

“Good morning,” I bow with a small wave and then rest my hands on my hips, leaving myself completely open and vulnerable. Centaurides are notoriously violent to protect their young and Ireallydon’t want to get in a fight this morning. I have lunch with the pack to get to. “Just passing on through.”

She doesn’t reply, just looks me over from head to toe, her glare slipping ever so slightly as her eyes drift over the hard planes of my stomach to where my dick hangs between my thighs. I make it do a little jump, and bite my cheek to keep from smirking when her eyes slam back up to mine. If I’m not mistaken, there is just a slight hint of a blush on her cheeks.

“Where are you headed?” At least the steel is gone from her voice now, replaced with a hint of heat. Fuck.

Toning it down a notch, I reign in the dimples. “Just on my way home.” I point in the opposite direction of the grotto, certain that the Black Stump is only a good forty-five-minute walk from here. Less if I let Wolf take the lead and leg it.

Hearing my thoughts, he is already shoving at me, trying to push me out the way to take over. Anything to get to the food. It’s an effort to hold him back and focus on the centauride, who has sauntered closer.

“Are you hungry perhaps? Would you like to join us for breakfast?” Yeah, definitely time to book it.

Smiling regretfully, I suck my teeth. “Sorry, gotta see a guy about a thing. Gotta run.”

I throw a thumb over my shoulder and take a step back. For a moment I think she is going to take exception—something flashing in her eyes before she nods.

“Very well then, goodbye Wolf.” She nods her head and takes a step back.

“See ya, have a good one!” I say with a wave, before turning and walking in a very purposefully casual way away from the grotto and centauride. As soon as I’m sure I’m out of eyesight, I pick up speed until I hit a full run.

I hold back the change until the very last second, letting the pressure build and build and it explodes out of me. Magic sizzles over my skin like ecstasy, as the change takes over, contorting and transforming my being mid-stride.

I take a back seat as Wolf runs us to the borders of the Woods and the tavern grounds, enjoying the ride, he hunts out our home away from home.

Sure enough, I arrive just in time for breakfast. And there is even bacon on offer. After grabbing my shorts and cap from the car, I strut into the tavern.

“What are you doing here this early?” Roan asks, confused as he drops off myplate. Roan and I have always been friendly, and he never seemed to mind that I am a bit different from the rest of my pack.

In fact, I think he kind of likes it. Like me, he’s not into all that pack hierarchy bullshit. And while it’s less of a problem under Dad than it was with the old leader, it’s still there. I guess that’s why this place became a refuge for me when I was younger.

Colin, the old Everfyr pack leader, and Roan never got along, so the pack never really hung out at Black Stump. Some of them do now, but old habits die hard and they all prefer to drink closer to home at the pubs in Twin Heads.

I’m definitely not complaining, though. It’s nice having something that feels like it’s just for me.

“Spent the night in the Woods,” I say, adding a flirty smile and a wink. I don’t enjoy lying to my friends. So I don’t. I just let them misconstrue the truth a little. If you have a reputation, might as well use it to your advantage.

Roan chuckles a laugh, shaking his head with a smile.

“Too right. Let me know if you need anything else.” Knocking on the table, he throws his tea towel over his shoulder, making his shirt strain over his impressive biceps with the movement.

“Will do. How’s Theo doing?” My stomach clenches at the dreamy look that passes over Roan’s face at the mention of Theo, the fae we rescued from the clutches of the evil, ancient fae, Marieth, only months ago. The whole thing may or may not be the cause of all my sleepless nights. Or part of it anyway.

Theo has been staying here since we came back. It’s been hard for us, those who went in and got him, but it’s nothing compared to what he has been through. He’s stronger than he looks; he’s fought through some super dark shit but he doesn’t back down.

He’s been renovating the old house at the back of the tavern. It used to be Roan’s uncle’s but when his uncle died, it just got left sitting there. When Theo started, the place was a mess, but now it’s looking good. Really good. It’s nearly all done and Theo’s taken over the gardens.

We’ve become good friends.Notas good friends as Theo and Roan, who are one-hundred percent boning on the down low. Or I think it’s meant to be thedown low. They don’t talk about it, but if they are trying to hide it, they’re doing a shit job of it with the way they are constantly sneaking off and coming back all sexed-up.

The pheromones flying around the place are enough to drive me mad. Maybe that’s what’s causing that restless feeling lately? That thing that’s making every edge feel a little too sharp?

Being around all these loved up horn dogs is making me edgy.

---