Page 33 of Wulf's Pack
A couple of regulars approach the bar, and I almost roll my eyes at their shit-eating grins. Everyone who’s come in tonight has heard the news, and each person finds my situation even funnier than the last. “Wulf!” a sidhe named Vesryn calls out with a smirk. His eyes find my mate, then come back to me, gleaming with amusement. “The rumors are true, then?” I nod, and he laughs. “Oh, how the mighty has fallen.”
Now I do roll my eyes. I place a tumbler on the bar in front of him and pour a double of his favorite fae alcohol. “I can’t even complain. She’s beautiful and sweet and the exact opposite of every she-wolf I’ve turned down in the past few months.”
Vesryn eyes her again. I wave to her, and she blushes, ducking her head back to focus on the laptop in front of her. It’s cute. I can’t decide if my extraverted ways are going to help her come out of her shell or put her in an early grave. I stopped introducing her to people half an hour ago because I could feel her stress through our pack link.
Vesryn sips his drink. “Is she really your fated?”
I blow out a breath, still trying to wrap my head around the truth. Then I chuckle. “You think a woman could have tied me down otherwise?”
Vesryn smiles and lifts his glass in a toast. “That’s a rare gift, my friend. Treasure it.”
“I already do.” My smile turns wry. “Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless to be someone’s mate.”
Vesryn throws his head back and laughs.
A strong cougar shifter joins us. She’s tall for a woman, and lithe. Her long, dark hair is up in a high ponytail, and her hazel eyes flash with alertness. Wearing a jade green halter top and skin-tight jeans with sky-high heels, she’s not got a lot of curves,but her shoulders and arms have a lot of definition. Everything about her screams strength. She’s pretty in a severe way. She doesn’t exactly have a resting bitch face. Not quite. But she’s not projectinglet’s be friends, either. I’ve seen her around, but don’t really know her. I give her a wide smile, which she returns with a polite nod. “Pint of Demon’s Brew, please?”
I grin, impressed, and get to work pouring her beer. It’s the strongest stuff we’ve got. Only the toughest underworlders order it regularly. The rest only drink it when they want to get thoroughly trashed. When the woman takes the mug and chugs back a healthy swallow like a seasoned pro, I laugh. “Not much sexier than a woman who can handle her liquor.”
The woman lifts an eyebrow at me. “Flirting?”
I hold my hands up. “Just being friendly. I’m officially off the market.”
“I heard. I also heard another interesting rumor.”
Vesryn leans in, curious. “Do tell?”
The woman eyes me up and down. “Is it true you’ve started your own pack?”
When I don’t laugh it off, Vesryn’s jaw drops. I try not to wince. I don’t want my pack thinking they’re unwanted or that I’m not proud of them; I just don’t know how to explain my actions. It’s not exactly smart to admit that I lost control of my wolf. “Word in the shifter community travels fast,” I say, skipping any explanation before either of them can ask for one.
The woman takes another deep swig of her beer. “Between your fated bond, what your mate did for the bear and the wolf, and you taking on a pack, you’re the biggest news in the shifter world since the outing.”
I sigh. “And here I was hoping to keep a low profile.”
The woman laughs. “Wulf Winters forms a pack? That’ll make national headlines.”
I groan. “Don’t remind me.”
A familiar face, one I’m happy to see, approaches the bar, but he doesn’t head for me. He sidles up beside my mate. I leave them be. I can imagine the bear shifter has a lot to say to her.
Carl’s a beast of a man. Biceps as big as my head and a double barrel chest. He’s got a full head of wavy brown hair and a thick beard to match it. Even if I weren’t a shifter who could smell his scent, it wouldn’t be hard to guess the man is a bear. He’s a total teddy, though.
“Well, if it isn’t the beautiful little omega who saved my life yesterday,” he says jovially.
Skylar smiles brightly at him. “Carl. It’s good to see you. How are you feeling today?”
He pounds a fist against his chest. “Good as new. Just needed a nap and a meal, like you said.”
“I’m glad.”
The brightness of his face dims to something a little more somber but twice as sincere. “I owe you a life debt, Miss Skylar. If there is ever anything I can do for you, anything at all, you need only ask.”
I’m not altogether surprised by the offer. A life debt is a huge deal. It’s a lot more than someone just sayingthank youand that they’re there if you need them. It’s a loyalty thing. He’s essentially swearing himself to Skylar. He’s the loyal type, though. Noble too. I’ve always thought some she-bear is going to be a very lucky woman when he takes a mate.
What does surprise me is how graciously Skylar accepts the honor. I would have thought she’d try to play her actions down. But she obviously knows how serious this moment is and recognizes that dismissing his declaration would be a huge insult.
She places her hands over his and squeezes. “I accept your sacrifice, Carl, and I thank you for this honor.”
