Page 79 of Howl You Doin?
He’s pushing too far and knows it since his eyes swirl with humor.
My expensive costume rips, tearing as my true form settles over my bones. Other than freaking her out a little, there is noreal harm anymore in letting her see me, not when it’s so very obvious she is like me, and the rest of the monster world, now. I ignore her shouts, unsure if it’s because of me or him, pushing her cries from my mind when they make me want to tear the world apart. My only focus is getting her away from him.
“I will rip your head from your stupid neck.”
The red-headed arsehole raises a brow, his hands planting more firmly around Whitley’s waist, and I surge forward, uncaring of the consequences.
Whitley shrieks and Lachlan’s laugh is maniacal, but he lets her go to face me.
Furious, I rip into his arms, my claws like daggers to his scale-covered flesh. I lay into him, pummeling him with punches from his face down as the Scotsman tries to shield himself. I roar in his face, only for my voice to turn to a yelp when I’m grabbed bodily by my ankle and swung into the air.
“This is why we can’t have nice things,” the sea serpent says, holding me in midair with his power. He hisses and water rises from the moat, healing his wounds.
“Whitley, are ye sure ye want this sorry cur?” he asks, as if he’s enquiring as to whether she wants more sugar in her tea.
I hang upside down and glance at her, standing open-mouthed in shock, staring at me. I growl and bend at the waist, reaching up to swipe my claw through his jet stream holding me captive.
“Whoops,” he says, and I plummet to the ground.
I roll to my side and groan. Now that she’s safely away from him, some of the tension eases out of me.
“You don’t play fair,” I moan. My voice is broken to my own ears and my sides ache painfully. “I swear I’m draining the moat.”
“Ye barely came tae see me for fifty years, and not at all in the last five or ten, ye bloody baw bag,” Lachlan gripes, remindingme again of how long it has been. “I should flatten ye with my tail for leaving me alone here tae rot! Even Vlad has seen me more than ye have, but that’s more like a punishment. Do ye ken how fucking annoying he is?”
I frown, a twinge of guilt registering as I realize how many times I could have come by, or at least checked on the ancient pain in my backside. I would have gone mad if left in his condition and never really considered that he could be lonely.
“I’m sorry, but you haven’tmovedin fifty years,” I gripe back without true heat. “And of course I know how annoying he can be. He calls me his damn butler, Lachlan. I’m more like a handler for an idiot.”
“So what? Ye didn’t think tae check in? And now ye have a mate who somehow fell intomymoat. Not that we are splitting hairs,” Lachlan spouts, and tosses his arms over his broad chest obviously put out.
Shame tingles the back of my neck. I should have come down here, knowing Lachlan was alone, but he can also be a bit of a recluse at the best of times. I actually didn’t know Vlad had been running off to hide down here, but now his odd disappearances make more sense. I can only imagine how much he’s been complaining in Lachlan’s poor ear, when the serpent would rather sleep.
“I’ve been dealing with Vlad getting worse over the years,” I retort with a grimace. “You saw what he was like, and it’s been complicated around here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Why do I look like Wolverine, Connor?” Whitley asks, interrupting us.
I stare in stunned fascination at her face covered in a wolfish muzzle. I then notice the baggy tunic covering her, and I growl under my breath that it’s saturated in Lachlan’s scent and not my own. She shouldn’t be wearing clothing belonging to any male exceptme.
“I don’t know,” I admit to her, getting to my feet and holding my hands out non-threateningly. “But we can figure this out together. I promise.”
I revert back to my human form to make her more comfortable and wait for the dull ache of pain to start. I frown when it doesn’t hurt. Then my jaw goes slack. For the first time in over three hundred years, I can change forms and there is no pain. I stare at my bare hands in astonishment, wondering how this is possible.
“Oh, for god’s sake, bring the fur back. I can only deal with so much nakedness, and Lachlan doesn’t have any clothes,” she says, covering her face with her now human hands.
I glance down at the ruined scraps of my thousand-pound slacks from Savile Row and shrug my shoulders listlessly. “Well, neither do I now.”
Lachlan snickers, but I ignore him as he says, “I forgot how funny humans can be with their modesty.”
“Come here, Whitley.” I give her a beseeching grimace, waving my hands for her to come to me. “I promise. No more secrets.”
The cat’s out of the bag anyway, and I need to get her up to speed before fuckingFrankcatches wind of this.
“Ye didn’t tell her she’s your mate?” Lachlan says, his voice full of censure, stealing my attention. Also, my damn fucking thunder, again!
My gaze moves to Whitley, as she mouths the word “mate” as a scared expression coasts across her features.
“I haven’t had time yet. Why the bloody hell did you drag her down here?” I ask him.
