“No problem at all. I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s wonderful to see Woods & Pages thriving again.” He smiled. “Your grandparents would be proud.”
My throat tightened. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“And that young man helping you - he’s quite dedicated. I saw him out front. Very professional.”
“Yeah, he’s-” What was Malachar, exactly? “He’s been a huge help.”
“I can see that. You’re lucky to have found him.”
I rang up his books, feeling something warm settle in my chest. Lucky. Yeah. Maybe I was.
Something soft brushed against my legs and I yelped, jumping back and nearly dropping the books I was holding. I looked down to find a massive wolf staring up at me.
Black fur with gray tips. Red eyes that were far too intelligent. A head that came up to my waist.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. I’d seen him as a wolf before, but that had been in the dark, in the chaos of Halloween night and then from afar in the following days. This was different. This was broad daylight in my bookstore, right next to me, and he was huge. Absolutely massive. Jesus Christ, how was this even possible?
“Oh my god!” The customer’s eyes went wide. “What breed is that?!”
My brain scrambled for an explanation. “He’s - it’s a mix. Great Dane and wolf. Very rare. Very expensive. Totally legal.”
Was it legal? Probably not. Whatever. I’d deal with animal control if they showed up.
“Can I pet him?” the customer asked, already reaching out.
A low growl rumbled from Malachar’s chest. Deep and threatening and absolutely feral.
The customer jerked his hand back. “Ah. Maybe not.”
“Yeah, he’s…Very protective.” I finished scanning the books with shaking hands. “That’ll be forty-two fifty.”
Malachar pressed against my legs. Solid and entirely too pleased with himself. Rubbed his massive head against my hip, nuzzled into my stomach. Looked up at me with those eerie red eyes.
He was adorable. Absolutely adorable. This killing machine had turned into a giant puppy.
I reached down without thinking and scratched behind his ears. His eyes closed, a rumbling sound came from his chest. Not quite a growl, more like a purr.
The customer paid and left, glancing back at the wolf nervously.
More people came in. I tried to help them. Tried to do my job. But Malachar wouldn’t leave me alone. He followed me everywhere. Pressed against my legs when I stood still. Nudged my hand when I stopped petting him. Made those purring sounds when I gave in and scratched his head.
“You’re being ridiculous,” I muttered as I helped a woman find a thriller. “You can’t just - stop that.”
He’d nudged my hand again. Demanding more attention like a spoiled dog.
The woman smiled. “He’s beautiful. What did you say he was?”
“Great Dane wolf mix. Very rare. Imported.”
“He seems very attached to you.”
“He’s needy.” I scratched his head again because he wouldn’t stop nudging. “Big baby in a scary package.”
The woman laughed, bought her book and left. More customers came. Some were intimidated by the massive wolf at my side. I had to keep reassuring them he was harmless, half-bred, totally safe, please don’t call animal control because explaining this to authorities would be a nightmare.
A little girl asked if she could pet him. Malachar had sat down immediately, letting her run her small hands through his fur. He’d been gentle. Patient. Had even licked her hand when she giggled.
“See?” I told her mother. “Total sweetheart.”
