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1162 Words
It’s the man who was watching me during the fight, the one with the blue eyes who made me lose focus.
I try to pull my hands away from him, but his grip is like iron.
“You’re going to kill him,” he warns me, his tone deep and rough, almost a growl.
His strength is greater than mine, and when I look into his eyes, the feral edge to his gaze makes me fearful. He’s a wolf shifter. There’s no denying it. A human wouldn’t have this kind of strength. And if that weren’t enough, the scent of his blood oozing from the scratch I gave him is a dead giveaway.
I can’t pull away from him using force alone, so I try another tactic. I yank my arms down as I cross them, which causes him to lose his grip. Without a second thought, I jump free of him.
“Wait!” he calls, but I grab my bag and run out the door.
I expect him to give chase, but he doesn’t.
I’ve gotten just a few feet away when I catch two different scents. They’re on either side of me, as if zeroing in on my location. I think fast.
If I keep running straight ahead, they’re going to give chase and might catch me. They’ll expect me to do that, and if this is a preplanned attack on me, there might be others waiting in the forest. The only alternative I can see is up.
There are plenty of trees in Oakrest’s forest. The boxing gym has a training track in these woods for those who claim to be serious athletes, and Mathew leads tourist hiking groups through here. Securing my backpack, I quickly leap onto the closest branch and then propel myself off of it to jump to another tree with denser foliage. Using the leaves to camouflage myself, I realize I have no choice but to stay here till they’re gone.
A few minutes later, two large wolves burst out of the forest and look around.
They sniff the ground, and I hold my breath, knowing that even the faintest sound will give me away.
They glance at each other and then in the direction of the boxing gym. The man who stopped me from maiming Roger steps out of the building. “Anything?”
The two wolves shift into their human forms, and I see that they’re wearing casual outfits. With witch magic on nearly every shifter clothing store out there, my kind no longer has to worry about destroying their clothes with each shift.
I study the two men. I don’t recognize them. They’re not from here.
“She escaped. Sorry, boss.”
The younger of the two steps forward. “Did you see her?”
The blue-eyed shifter nods. “I think it could be her, but I can’t say for sure.”
His companions exchange a look. “So, what now?”
Their leader purses his lips. “We do know one thing. There is indeed a wolf shifter taking part in these illegal cage fights.”
My stomach sinks.
This isn’t good.
This isn’t good at all.
Chapter 2
Sophia Hope
I stare at the drinking glass I’ve been wiping for the past five minutes.
Whoever has been using this waterproof, red lipstick needs to have her ass handed to her. What kind of i***t uses waterproof lipstick that smears? And the kind of smear that doesn’t even wash off. My mind is boggled by how this lipstick can even be called waterproof when it clearly stains glasses. We have a serial glass stainer in town, it seems.
I chuckle to myself, amused at my own joke, before my expression sours. I have managed to get most of it off, but I still have three other glasses waiting to be cleaned.
Sighing, I set down the glass and look around the bar.
The Dancing Bear functions as both a bar and a restaurant. I once told Elsa, the owner and my boss, that a restaurant with a bar was just a restaurant. She vehemently disagreed. Apparently, we’re a bar with a restaurant. My plans don’t include getting fired, so I decided never to broach the topic again. Restaurant with a bar or bar with a restaurant—as long as I get paid, it can be a flying goose for all I care.
“Another martini, Sophia,” one of the customers calls out, tapping his empty glass.
“Right away, Mr. Willow,” I reply.
I always thought being a bartender was all about mixing drinks and chatting with new and interesting customers. The idea had been a charming one, but when I finally got my bartender’s license, my tiny little dream got shattered. Oakrest is a small town, one of the few that litter the South Alliance’s coast on the Atlantic Ocean, and there are not a lot of people allowed entry here. I see the same faces every day. Most of the customers who sit at the bar prefer to drink in silence, and at this time of night, there are usually not many other people out and about. The ones who do come in have dinner and then leave.
As I set the martini in front of a gloomy-looking Mr. Willow, I know better than to ask what is bothering him. Perhaps my current stain removing activity will be the highlight of my day. It certainly distracts me from the problems plaguing me at the moment, problems regarding a blue-eyed shifter.
The only reason I figured out he was a shifter was because he bled from the scratch I gave him. He clearly takes scent blockers, like I do. Of course, his two wolf companions also helped me identify what he was. I know for a fact that he’s not part of the pack security team. It’s not as if I know every face in town, but I do know most of the shifters. But if those three guys are from out of town, how did they manage to get in?
Oakrest is one of seven towns on the Atlantic coast of the South Alliance. It is heavily guarded to prevent infiltrations—or at least, that’s what I was told when I first arrived here. Not that I ever asked many questions.
Sighing once again, I pick up the second glass and study it, glaring at the red smudge.
“Tonight, either you become spotless or you go in the trash!”
“Stop talking to the drinkware, Sophia.” Reese Dale, one of the waiters, walks past me without batting an eye. “People already think you’re crazy.”
I blink and look around. There are a few eyes on me but only because these people have nothing better to do than watch me.
I decide to cease my one-sided conversation and actually focus on removing the lipstick marks. Not that it matters.
- Writer
