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“It seems you are very observant when it comes to what I like.” She angled her shoulders back.

“It’s a good thing I want to be observant with you, since it’s going to be all I am doing for the foreseeable future.”

Her breathing hitched. She took the drink from the bar and sipped it. “Gods, that’s strong.”

“But do you like it?”

“I do.” She was surprised at her honesty.

“It’s an elder whisky with a peach syrup.” He threw her a smile. “I thought you’d like something with a little dark kick.”

Her heart stammered. She did like it. She loved it. She took another sip without breaking his gaze. The dark smoky tones worked with the fruity notes to splash taste all around her tongue.

She swallowed. “More to the point, what you did there with Doriel was out of line, Torin.”

He relaxed, putting his free hand into the pocket of his leathers. “I only told the poor little vamp to scram.”

“Scram?” A laugh burst from her mouth. “I am sorry, did you just say scram?”

“Why is that entertaining to you?” His eyes lit up.

The laugh finally reached her belly, and she couldn’t believe it. A laugh hadn’t reached her belly in so long. “Scram is a word my grandmother would have used to shoo away birds that pecked at her flowerbeds, not a word I would expect the notorious Torin Blacksteel to use.”

“I am glad my unpredictability made you giggle,” he said as he sipped his drink.

And he did make her laugh. Which made her scowl at him again.

“Torin Blacksteel?” Breighly Baxgroll came out of the crowd, breaking the tension between them. “How are you?”

“Hey, little wolf,” he said, turning his gaze back to Emara. Breighly noticed.

“Emara Clearwater, right?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Hi.” Emara held out her hand. Ignoring the gesture, Breighly stepped straight in and embraced her in a hug. Shock hit Emara at first, but then she returned the gesture.

“It’s so nice to finally meet the girl who sat with my brother in his final moments.” Breighly’s lips turned into a thin line as she pulled back from the embrace. “Torin told me about what you did for him, so thank you.”

Unexpected sentiment choked in Emara’s throat as she looked at the wolf. “It was an honour.”

Emara meant what she said. She had never experienced anything like what she did with Eli Baxgroll, it had truly changed her.

“A spirit witch told my father that you took away his pain in his final moment and he crossed over to the Otherworld painlessly.” She lowered her eyes and Emara’s lips parted in disbelief.

She took his pain?

She blinked.

“The pack will always remember what you did for him.” Breighly’s eyes filled with emotion, but the strength of her features stopped it from pouring through. “If you ever need anything, and I mean anything, call on me and I will return the favour.” She swallowed down any remaining sentiment. Emara nodded graciously. Breighly’s painted dark lips pulled into a smile. “What can I get you to drink?” she said, lightening the mood. “It’s on the house.”

“A large rum on the rocks. Extra sugar spice.”

“Not you.” She snickered, dragging her eyes from Torin. “Emara, the drinks are on me tonight. You can have whatever you like.”

“The alpha will not be happy if the wolf that runs the bar is running around giving everyone free alcohol,” Torin joked. “Then again, he did put you—the market’s party girl—in charge of his tavern. So more fool him.”

“While the big wolf is away, the cubs can play.” Breighly flashed a smile in Emara’s direction. “Plus, I run this tavern the way I want. You saw the sticker on the front door, do not enter if you are bothered by questionable morals.”

“Oh, I am not questioning anything about morals.” Torin took a sip of his drink. “I’m known for many things, but hypocrisy is not one of them.”