Page 3 of Bewitching the Wolf

The truth is, I wasn’t expecting to shift. It was a complete shock, to be honest. Maybe I’d become complacent, believing it might never happen. After all, it’s been three years since I got bitten. But then, out of the blue, I had to rescue my sister Clem from a human spy who’d abducted her from the Labyrinth and taken her back to Sparkle City.

Otis Cane, our orc sheriff (who happens to be in love with Clem), insisted on joining me in the rescue operation. And that’s when things turned pear-shaped. Because monsters aren’t allowed to leave the Labyrinth, and an angry green orc with huge tusks was undeniably a monster, right?

I had no say in what happened next. The guards were about to shoot Otis and my sister. Instinct took over. I turned into a feral silver wolf, and herded the human scumbags into a corner as Otis escaped with Clem. Somehow, we all got safely back to the Labyrinth.

Only trouble was, I passed out from the shock of my virgin shift, and I’ve been recuperating ever since. Meanwhile, the news has leaked that Jax Summers is a werewolf.

And word is, Tippy is none too pleased with me for keeping that minor detail secret for the past three years.

Here’s the problem. Tippy is a vixen shifter. and vixen shifters don’t like werewolves.

Worse, Tippy is a wixen, which means she’s also part witch. Wixens are the most anti-wolf of all their species. I still don’t understand the complexity of their intertwined history with werewolves, but I know it’s got something to do with a race between wixens and wolf mages to decipher the runes that could ultimately save the Labyrinth.

As if to prove the point, my inner wolf jeers, She’s just an airhead wixen. Don’t waste your time.

“Just—shut—the—fuck—up,” I growl back.

Amazingly, it does. But I don’t trust it when it goes quiet. No doubt it’s waiting for the next opportunity to stir up shit.

I watch Tippy longingly as she leans over the counter and smiles at some damn fucking centaur who I’ve seen here before. Larry Knockballs, if I remember rightly. Tippy places a green smoothie in front of the centaur, who flexes an arm to show her his muscled bicep. I can hear him boasting, braying on about her smoothies giving him strength and stamina.

Blah, blah, fucking blah…

Same old story. All the monsters who come to Digger’s have the hots for Tippy. I know I’ve got competition. But she hasn’t ever dated any of them, as far as I know. And I guess I would know, because we’ve hung out together a fair bit over the past three years.

I’m just about to announce my presence when a burly gnome pushes past me, sits down next to the centaur and challenges him to an arm wrestle. I stifle a stab of annoyance as they get Tippy to score them. She gives them both an eight out of ten with a little smirk.

“What! C’mon, mine’s bigger,” the centaur grumbles.

“Sometimes the best things come in small packages.” Tippy winks at the gnome, who colors up to his green hair follicles. The bastard can’t keep his little black eyes off her.

I grit my teeth and lean over the bar.

“Tippy,” I say in my most gravelly voice. “Can I order a drink?”

“Oh!” She pretends to startle. Her amber eyes pop as she turns toward me. “Jax Summers. Didn’t see you there.”

Why do I sense she’s lying?

I ruffle a hand through my thick dark hair and place an elbow nonchalantly on the bar. “Missed me?” I drawl.

Her brows arch and her little nose tilts, giving her a haughty look that doesn’t bode well.

“Nothing to miss.” She shrugs.

Inside, I deflate like a popped balloon, but I brace my shoulders, grin stupidly. My wolf growls deep in my belly. I ignore it.

“Yeah, well,” I smirk, “guess you’ve heard, then.”

“Heard what?”

“That I, erm, shifted two weeks ago.”

“Oh, that—yeah, maybe I did.” She sniffs.

Her indifference miffs me. I try for a nonchalant tone. “Been recovering these past couple weeks, it really fucked me up for a while, being the first time, and under dangerous circumstances.” I pause, but she says nothing, so I finish lamely, “Hence why I haven’t been at Digger’s for a while.”

Tippy places her hands on the counter and huffs an impatient sigh. “What d’you want to drink, Jax?”