Of Wolves and Magic

Chapter Seven: Favorite Regret

Grant

The tavern door slammed shut as I made my escape, my heart pounding in my chest like a war drum coming from across enemy lines. There was a chill in the air that burned my lungs when I inhaled, but I didn’t care.

All I cared about was getting the hell out of there.

Whatever I expected to happen when I made the decision to give into my desires and f**k Deidre Carey, I didn’t expect this.

All I had hoped was that I’d knocked back enough alcohol to keep the beast at bay so I wouldn’t show her my other face and scare her to death—if the animal didn’t rip her to shreds.

It was a gamble, but I didn’t expect to hit the jackpot.

For the first time since becoming a werewolf, the beast inside of me felt tamed. Sated.

I was desperate for a way to control the new monster inside of me, but I never expected to find the answer buried between that woman’s legs.

It was more than just the f*****g—I’d tried using random hookups to blow off steam in the past, and it didn’t do a damn thing but leave me frustrated when the wolf inside of me was still clawing to get out.

There was something special about her, something that satisfied all those animal urges and allowed me a moment of calm for the first time since the accident.

And I ran out on her.

I should’ve gone home. I should’ve retreated to the safety of familiar territory, but even just the idea of being stuck inside four walls right now made a pit form in my stomach.

Alex was away at a sleepover tonight—she was doing that more and more these days, and I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to hang around and watch me chug a six pack and then some.

Besides, she was getting to that age where she wanted to spend all her time with her friends, and no one wanted to let their little angels hang out at the Hawthorne house.

And I didn’t want them here, not with my curse making me a liability.

So if I went home now it’d just be me in the apartment, alone with my thoughts and my liquor.

I didn’t want any part of that tonight.

The alcohol was like a bandaid, calming the beast enough for me to function without the worry that it was going to take control, and the sick irony in that wasn’t lost on me.

River would be damn ashamed if he was looking down on me at all in the past year, checking in on how I was raising his daughter.

I was supposed to follow in his footsteps and give up the bottle, and yet I spent half the night at the bar, after spending the day sipping on my flask.

He would’ve hated to see me like this, but up until now it was the only way I had to keep the beast at bay.

To keep Alex safe and still be in her life.

Hell, since this curse took root, I couldn’t really even get drunk anymore. The amount of booze I had to drink to even catch a buzz was disgusting, but no one else knew that, so to everyone else in this tiny woodland village I just looked like the same worthless drunk I used to be.

It hurt, after how hard I tried to get clean like he did. It all came crashing down with one f*****g terrible night.

Poor Alex, she shouldn’t have to grow up with my image reflecting on her.

The clarity I felt without the wolf snarling, howling, and clawing at my soul filled me with a whole other kind of rage.

I could finally take stock of my life over the past year, and I hated it. I hated that River wasn’t here to give Alex the childhood she deserved, and I hated that I had no choice but to turn right back to the bottle.

I didn’t want to be that guy, but I was stuck, drowning in my own reputation.

With a primal yell, I threw my fist into a nearby tree, scaring off the birds that had been sleeping in it with a cacophony of caws and a rustling of branches.

I had finally found a reliable way to control this curse, and I had gone out of my way to make damn sure it was never going to happen again.

I was an i***t if I thought that Deidre Carey was ever going to touch me again after the way I’d treated her.

The worst part was that she was definitely trying to flirt with me before I jumped down her throat.

If I hadn’t gone on the defensive in some idiotic white-knight attempt to protect her, we could’ve had something for real, and I could have all but kissed this curse goodbye.

What we did in the tavern was almost definitely a one time thing—a momentary lapse in her judgment after watching me toss that piece of s**t who was harassing her out onto the street.

She tried to be nice to me, and I repaid that kindness by being a massive f*****g asshole. Sure, I was trying to protect her—I couldn’t have known that the beast’s interest in her wasn’t going to get her hurt, but it’d be next to impossible to explain that.

I didn’t want to explain it. She either wouldn’t believe me, or she’d be terrified. The last thing I wanted was for anyone in the village to know the truth about me.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I’d either have an angry mob or the government showing up at my door, and then Alex would lose the last remaining family she had.

A fox skittered by, unbothered by my presence. Ever since I became a werewolf the animals in the forest have treated me like one of them. In some ways, it was peaceful.

I always preferred the forest—I liked that my job hauling lumber kept me out of the judgmental eye of the public.

But in Deidre’s case, the judgment felt warranted.

I f****d Deidre anyway without letting her know how much danger she was really in, so if I tried to explain the curse to her there was no way I was going to come out looking like a great guy.

But one thing she couldn’t deny was that I was a good lay. The way she squirmed against me and her cunt spasmed around my c**k didn’t lie.

I could still taste her essence on my tongue, and my c**k twitched when I thought about tasting her again.

If I had my way, I’d have her sprawled across my bed, her fingers buried in my hair while I made her come so hard she cried.

Fuck, I’d even make her breakfast when we were done.

I was never the best cook, but I’d been learning over the course of the year that I’d had custody of Alex, and I could confidently say that I made a mean chocolate chip pancake.

Even if the chocolate chips tended to do the heavy lifting.

But I was kidding myself.

I could imagine up all the domestic bliss I wanted, I already f****d over any cozy little future we could’ve had when I decided to treat her like her just being near me was one more dark cloud in my already stormy existence.

The only way she was ever going to put her hands on me again would be if I drove her so crazy she couldn’t help herself.

Hate s*x would be a hell of a lot better than nothing if it meant I had a way to keep the beast in check, even if just thinking about it made me feel like a scumbag.

That said, it took two to tango, and if she was willing to let me f**k her in the tavern’s bathroom just because I chased off some little piss-ant who thought he had the right to put his damn hands on her, then I didn’t mind being her bad decision.

If Deidre was willing to give me the chance, I’d be her favorite regret.

Pushing my hands through my hair, I sucked in a deep breath, determined to find a way to make this happen.

But a low growl from deeper into the forest caught my attention and sent a chill down my spine, curling my lip into a snarl.