Book 2 Not his Werewolf

by Annie Nicholas

  He set it aside. “The alpha told me to not wake you.”

  “Benny, I’m late!” How could Ryota do this? He knew how important this day was for him every year. The orphanage had saved him. They’d found him a pack and, most importantly, convinced Ryota to adopt him instead of giving him to some random shifter couple. He owed them. Ken rushed to the shower, knowing he reeked.

  Benny handed him clothes from home.

  Ken paused. “Do you have a car?”

  “The alpha is at the fundraiser in your place until you quote unquote ‘get your shit together’.”

  He closed his eyes. The potential disasters flashed before his eyes. Ryota didn’t do fundraisers. He just signed the checks.

  “Do you want me to make some breakfast?” asked Benny.

  “Sure, something to-go though.” Ken hesitated at the bathroom door. “Did Betty call?”

  “No, would you like me to phone her?”

  He shook his head. She’d be at the fundraiser.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When Betty arrived at the orphanage, she was taken aback by the majesty of the grounds. The huge stone building, set dead center of a wooded area of at least ten acres, reminded her of an old English manor. If a horse drawn carriage pulled up to the building, she wouldn’t have blinked.

  Her ragtag group of family and friends were not the first to arrive at the fundraiser. Food trucks were setting up their venues at one end. She saw games being unloaded, and a long truck that read petting zoo.

  “Oh look!” Trixie pointed. “Ponies.” She clapped her hands. “Do you think they’ll let me pet one?”

  “As long as you don’t try to ride one,” Ruby answered. “Where’s your spot, Betty? We need to unload and get this truck back before Trixie loses her job.”

  “Start emptying the truck while I look.” Betty prayed she still had the spot. Ken hadn’t been in any shape last night to cancel her table, but he might have done it this morning.

  “I’ll go with you.” Her mother looked pretty in her yellow jeans and light blue shirt. She was Betty’s summer. Something she needed right now when all around her was storms.

  Betty took her hand, suddenly feeling very small. Though she was twice her mom’s strength, Betty knew she could depend on her mom to stand at her side.

  Mom gripped her hand and walked alongside her.

  Dad gave them a wink while doing most of the heavy lifting for her friends. Even after a hard night of dancing, they had all showed up bright and early. They probably hadn’t been home yet, looking at Ruby’s outfit and smudged makeup.

  Under a large oak tree, Betty spotted a banner declaring Almost Home Animal Rescue. She and her mom stood quietly staring at the large area set in front of the orphanage. A standing chalkboard sign was set on the table with a pile of chalk and pens.

  The vise around Betty’s heart tightened. It had been strangling her since she left Ken in Ryota’s care and grew worse every minute. She feared her heart would stop if she didn’t find some way to ease the pain. “Found it,” she whispered.

  Mom squeezed her hand. “You sure you want to spend your day here? Your father and I can handle this alone.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She knew what her mom meant. Ken would be here and she’d have to face him. What Mom didn’t know about was Ryota’s check in Betty’s pocket and the consequences for not taking his deal. When she left New Port, it would be on her own terms, empty bank account or not.

  She licked her dry lips. This was one of those moments where she couldn’t decide if she should pat herself on the back or kick herself in the ass.

  “Oh look, Angie and Beth are setting up a booth for their back-scratching store.”

  “Parlor,” Betty corrected on auto-pilot.

  “Whatever, Miss Smarty Pants. Let’s go say hello.” Mom gave her a tug.

  “You go ahead. I want to settle the animals so they’re calmer when people arrive.” And she needed a minute alone to pull her shit together.

  Goodbyes sucked. No tears today though. She’d cried enough yesterday to last her a lifetime. Any dog or cat adopted was a good thing to be celebrated. They would have found their forever home. Ken would be out of her mind and then, once the day was done, maybe she’d go buy some of that full-moon shine off Ken’s grandpa.

  She snorted. Of all the things Ken could have done, the last she expected was him getting drunk with his grandfather.

  She retrieved her minions and showed them their spot. Dad happily transported yapping dogs and hissing cats—they didn’t like him. Mom still chatted with Beth. Betty caught the occasional glance in her direction. Those two were trouble together. To quote Lord of the Rings, she could feel it in the water, feel it in the earth, and smell it in the air.

  “Dogs on one side, cats on the other,” Betty directed. “We’ll set up a meet and greet pen behind the table where potential adopters can meet the animals.” Please, spirits of pets gone by, don’t let anyone be bitten. She had no insurance. Betty latched together the accordion-like barrier walls that she would use for the pen.

  Trixie kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back,” she said in an Austrian accent then skipped to her work truck, pink hair swinging in the wind.

  Betty noted her dad slipping the teacup Chihuahua in his vest pocket with a cookie.

  “Mom’s going to kill you.” She motioned her finger across her throat in a slicing gesture. “Dead.” She knew a lost cause when she saw one though. Betty had left the Great Danes at the rescue for the same reason. She wouldn’t give up her couch potatoes. Who would keep her warm in the winter or clean her floors?

  Dad stuck out his tongue. “I need food. I’ll bring you some.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She’d never imagined saying those words. It had once seemed like an impossible state.

  Dad pressed his lips together. Disapproval stamped all over his face. “You will eat whatever I bring you.”

  “Fine. Fine.” She waved him off.

  People were trickling in already. Kids’ squeals of laughter traveled from the game area. Some of them wore the orphanage emblem on their T-shirts. Betty leaned her chin on her hand.

  A shadow blocked her sun. She peered up at the figure and jerked straighter in her seat. “E-Eoin.” She cleared the squeak from her voice. “What can I do for you?”

  His gaze traveled to the rescues. “Are they free?”

  She rose slowly to her feet as to not startle the dragon. Funny how Angie didn’t make her gut wrench with fear like he did. “Umm, yes.”

  He strode around the table. All her dogs quieted as if someone had pressed their off button. He sniffed at them.

  “They’re pets,” she added, you know, just in case.

  “Not snacks?”

  She couldn’t stop her gasp.

  The side glance he tossed her way was full of amusement.

  “You’re teasing.” Please, let him be teasing.

  “Of course, I am.” He moved to the cats. They leaned against the cage doors, purring as if desiring Eoin’s attention. Cats and dragons? He scratched a few chins and ears. “As you know, we have a rat problem at the castle.”

  She nodded. How could she forget? She’d almost been roasted then eaten by their pet vampire in the basement.

  “Angie refuses to return home until I take care of the problem. She’s been living with Beth. Ever try to catch a rat?”

  Betty shook her head, trying not to laugh at the image in her head of the black dragon chasing rodents in the castle.

  “They need this much space—” he held his fingers half an inch apart “—to escape. Do you know how many spaces that small my castle has?” Now he shook his head. “And I can’t get an exterminator to return my calls.”

  No, shit. She couldn’t blame them. Eoin exuded threat like Beth did bubble gum joy.

  “So you want to adopt a cat?” This was a good start. Eoin had one of the most recognizable faces in New Port. People at the fundraiser were already pausing to stare. She
just hoped the dragon wouldn't blow flame and scare them all away.

  “I can only have one?” He asked. A ginger tabby was reaching out through the bars with its paw, begging Eoin’s attention.

  “How many do you want?”

  He opened the cage and cradled the cat. Suddenly every pedestrian had a cell phone in their hands taking pictures. “All of them.”

  Betty’s teeth snapped shut so hard her ears rang. “Did you say all of them?”

  He shot her an annoyed look. “Are you going to give me a speech about sharing? If Angie couldn't convince me of the stupid concept, I doubt you will.”

  “I wouldn't dare expect you to share.” Betty pulled out an adoption form and then thought she better not. She knew Eoin and where he lived. Normally, she would have adoption fees but she just wanted to find them homes, so today was fee free.

  “Good.”

  “Do you know how to take care of cats?”

  “Food, water, shelter. Angie will know the rest.”

  Oh, Betty was sure Angie would be thrilled when she found out.

  “You might want to stop at the pet store on your way home for cat litter and trays. Maybe some cat food in case their rat catching skills are lacking.”

  He nodded, mesmerized by the purring cat in his arms. “I like the noise it’s making. It's calming.” With a sad sigh, he returned the cat to the cage. “I used my truck to transport Angie's back scratching table. I wouldn’t let her carry it in dragon form. Can I use the cages to transport them home?”

  “The cages are not all mine.”

  “I'll return them before your soulmate ceremony.”

  “Oh…” That small noise spoke volumes. The vise around her heart cracked it. She sat on her chair hard. “You can just bring them to the rescue. I only have the place for a few more days though. So don’t wait too long.”

  “Then I'll bring them to Ken's if I forget. I have trouble with the mortal concept of time. Days, weeks, hours. I'm late a lot.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I'm not moving in with Ken.”

  Eoin raised his eyebrow. “That's a weird way to be with your one true love. Is this a wolf shifter thing?”

  She stared at her clasped hands, unable to meet his stare. It wasn't a dominance thing. If she moved, she might shatter. And she had a small crowd of people forming in front of her table. “There's not going to be a soulmating ceremony, Eoin. I broke up with Ken.”

  The dragon knelt in front of her and sniffed. “You smell heartbroken.”

  Dad arrived. “Hey, they have these bacon, sausage, ham breakfast sandwiches with cheese…” He stared at the dragon. “Something I should know or is this a none-of-your-business-Dad thing?” He set two sandwiches next to her and waved at the crowd. “Be right with you folks.”

  Smoke drifted from Eoin's nostrils. “I need a moment alone with Betty. Take care of the table.”

  Before Dad or she could reply, Eoin had her by the upper arm and dragged her behind the orphanage.

  “You do realize how rare soulmates are?”

  She struggled. “Of course I do.”

  “And that any shifter would be lucky to have Ken as their mate?” He spun around to pin her with his glare. “If you even breathe a word of this to him, I'll eat your dogs.”

  “Yes, to both.”

  “Then explain.”

  “I-I can't shift.” That wasn't the only reason but it was the easiest to explain.

  The confused look that crossed his face would have been priceless if she wasn't so frightened. “You can't shift because of this.” He pointed to the tattooed symbol on her upper arm.

  “What do mean?” She covered the image with her hand. It was the prettiest one she had and had cost her a small fortune.

  “What do you know of magic and spells?”

  She shrugged. “Not to screw around with them because they’re always for a price.” She peeked under hand. “I had these inked when I was sixteen. I couldn't shift before this tattoo. It has nothing to do with my shape changing problem.”

  She almost said dumbass after that phrase, but some survival instinct kicked in to stop her mouth. But he was pissing her off and she was already in a foul mood.

  Claws popped from Eoin’s fingertips and dug into the skin of her upper arm. He peeled the tattoo off like a band-aid, but with a lot more blood.

  Her scream hurt her ears. She clapped her hand over the bleeding wound. “Are you insane?”

  He was a dragon so the answer was yes.

  “The symbol blocks magic. Anything it’s written on is wrapped in a shield. You would never change shape with that stamped on your body.” He pocketed her skin. “You really didn't know?”

  “Of course I didn't.” She clenched her teeth and resisted the urge to bite him.

  He shrugged. “Try to shift now.”

  She stepped closer and slapped his face so hard her knuckles cracked. “You ask permission first before you decide to skin someone alive.” Apparently suicide was on her to-do list.

  He rubbed his cheek. “Point taken. How long will you be angry with me?”

  Her mouth opened and closed. She wasn't sure how to answer him. “Are you in a hurry?”

  “I have a rat issue, remember?” He pointed at Angie, who watched them with concern.

  In his own dragon way, Eoin was trying to help Betty and Ken. “Not long. Let me eat breakfast.” And bandage a wound.

  “Can I still have the cats?”

  “Yes.”

  “You'll try to shift later?”

  She sighed. “Fine.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Take the cats in their kennels. I'll retrieve them from your castle soon.”

  The pain in her arm wasn't getting better. It burned with every little move.

  “Good.” Eoin patted her on the shoulder, making it hurt more.

  She moaned and stiffened her knees so she wouldn't crumple on the grass.

  “It will heal soon.” The smoke stopped drifting from his nostrils. “I'll tell Angie the good news. She feels bad not being able to help you.”

  With teeth clenched, she watched Eoin's retreating back. She couldn't return to the crowded table looking like a Freddy Krueger victim. She edged closer to the fundraiser and spotted her mother in the meeting pen behind her table. She was helping her dad by letting potential adopters pet some of the dogs.

  Betty scanned the banners for a First-Aid symbol. She needed more than the Band-Aids her mom always carried. The blood seeped between her fingers.

  As a half-breed, she healed faster than a human yet slower than a full-blooded shifter. Betty peeked under her hand at the thin scab forming. It looked terrible and ragged but the wound was closing quicker than she had expected.

  A golden-haired male with sunglasses strode across the bright green lawn in her direction. His intense focus lasered on her position.

  She'd been preparing her speech to Ken all morning but at the sight of the beta, she couldn't recall a single word. Would he yell at her right here in front of all these witnesses?

  Ken’s soulmate stood apart from the festival, staring longingly at the Almost Home Rescue’s table. A crowd had formed and people snapped pictures of Eoin carrying away kennels of cats.

  He stopped the dragon on his way to the truck. “You know they're not food, right?”

  Eoin snarled and snapped his teeth. “Your mate already explained. They are pleasant creatures.” His gaze narrowed. “Unlike your kind.” Then he gave Ken a secretive smile. “Except your mate. I like her. She has spirit.” He pushed past Ken before he could question him further, knocking his sunglasses off.

  What did he mean by that?

  Ken glared in Betty's direction and their eyes met.

  She shrank away, shoulder drooping, and gaze dropping to the ground.

  It killed him to see her react to him this way. He didn't have much recall of last night, except finding Betty in a bar and then vomiting. Ken’s stomach rolled at the m
emory. Shifter guts were made of iron. He finally agreed with Ryota’s policy on full-moon shine. It should be banned if it could harm shifters this much. Imagine if a man ingested it. He stormed across the grass, ignoring the stabbing glare of sunlight in his eyes.

  Head pounding, he loomed over his mate. “Betty.” He growled as the scent of her blood hit his nose.

  “Look I have—I’m busy and have to find homes for the animals.” Brave words, if she hadn't whispered them. “Then I'll leave the rescue.” She clutched her right biceps, bright red staining her fingers.

  “You're hurt!” He gingerly pried her hand loose. The wound appeared as if someone had torn her skin off. Someone's claws. “The bleeding has stopped. Who did this to you?”

  “Your eyes, Ken. You’re wolfing out. Put the sunglasses back on.”

  He bared his teeth at her injury. “What do you expect when I find you hurt?” Ken scooped her into his arms and carried her to the white First-Aid tent. “Tell me how this happened.”

  “He…” She bit her bottom lip.

  “Betty.”

  “I tripped.”

  “You do realize I can smell lies.” She was upset with him about the eviction, but to lie? He didn't understand her motives. He loved her so much. Why couldn't she see this?

  The tent was empty. It was usually manned by volunteer nurses from New Port General. He set her on the chair and retrieved disinfectant from the table.

  “Shouldn't we wait for a nurse or a medic?”

  He snorted. “I'm beta of the pack. I tend wounds all the time.” He glanced up at her. “Not just my own.”

  Betty cracked a smile then struggled for somber. It was like a stray ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “You look like something Trixie pulled out of the gutter drain.” She ran her thumb under his eyes. “Don't drink that stuff again. It can’t be good for you.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” He shrugged off her touch. It hurt more than his hangover.

  She took a shuddering breath as he traced the wound on her arm with gauze. The skin would grow back but not the tattoo. He cleaned the injury of old blood. He could see the claw marks in her flesh.