Page 11 of Accidentally Wedded to a Werewolf (Claw Haven #1)

Guys had run out on Luna before.

She was a lot. In the best ways, obviously.

The fun, entertaining ways. Even so, some guys couldn’t handle it.

There had been her high school boyfriend, who hadn’t liked that she danced on tables at parties.

Then her college boyfriend, who had gotten mad at her for accidentally throwing out his granddad’s ashes so she could have a free vase for the beautiful bouquet she bought herself as a half-birthday present.

But she’d never made a guy chase guaranteed agony just so he wouldn’t have to be in the same room as her. She couldn’t help but feel a little bad as Ben came striding into the living quarters with Oliver hanging over his shoulder, still unconscious.

“Sooo,” Luna said as she stared at Oliver’s limp form. “When you say ‘in pain’…”

“It’s a very vulnerable time,” Grandmother Musgrove said.

She stood back to let Ben get past her. Luna was relieved it was just Grandmother Musgrove here, no weird uncles or prying aunts or boisterous kids.

She was a little sad Sabine wasn’t around.

She’d joked with Luna last night while they were getting clothes from her room.

Luna could use some jokes right now to offset the annoying and baseless guilt.

It wasn’t her fault, obviously. But she couldn’t help but feel a little bad as she watched Oliver’s limp body bounce against Ben as he carried him to their quarters.

“Pain is only the most immediate symptom,” Grandmother Musgrove continued. “If he stayed away, he would get sick. Perhaps die.”

Luna stared at her. “Oh my god, seriously?”

“In rare cases.”

She started down the hall. Luna trailed after her, wincing when Ben banged Oliver’s head on a door frame.

“You can stay with us free of charge,” Grandmother Musgrove announced, adjusting her thick sleeves against her tattooed wrists.

“I’m sorry this happened now and not a year ago.

He was different before. Sweeter. More open.

Less prone to snapping at things that didn’t require teeth. You would have liked him.”

“Before,” Luna repeated. “Why, what happened a year ago?”

Grandmother Musgrove stopped, staring down the hall at the closed door that Ben had carried Oliver through.

“You should go to see him,” she said. “The closer you are, the less he hurts.”

Luna squirmed. The door to her room lay behind Grandmother Musgrove, empty and tempting.

“I totally will,” she said. “After I call Hector.”

* * *

She rushed into her room, closing the door behind her. The ice in her chest was small, almost unnoticeable. Oliver would be fine until she got back. She could still sense him through the bond, dead to the world in the Musgrove’s common room.

She twisted the phone cord around her finger as it rang. The closer you are, the less he hurts. Grandmother Musgrove made her sound like morphine. A soothing balm. A warm shower for a shivering traveler. She’d never been that for somebody before. It felt like a lot of responsibility.

She wasn’t a balm to Hector, she was…fun to have around. Arm candy. Something adorable and pampered and delightful, like a purebred puppy who very rarely peed on the carpet. Hector never wanted anything else, and neither did she.

“Stranded fiancée,” came Hector’s greeting down the crackling line. “How goes the snow? Melted yet?”

Luna glanced out at the thick snow outside the window. It wasn’t actively snowing, but the sky was looking worryingly overcast.

“Not yet,” she said. “Hey, did you know about the werewolf bond…proximity thing? Like, it hurts them if their…ugh. Bondmate, spouse, whatever. It hurts them if they get too far away.”

“Shit, seriously? I thought that was just Hollywood.” There was a slurping noise, and Luna sighed.

“Are you drinking on the beach right now?”

“Toes in the sand, baby.”

Luna groaned, flopping back against her cold bed.

Hector laughed. “What happened? Did you go for a walk, and he freaked out?”

“We, uh…” Luna coughed. “He flipped out at me over nothing and stormed off. Then his brother had to go after him and carry him back because he, um, passed out.”

Hector whistled. “He passed out? That’s intense. So, what, you gotta hug him once a day, or he gets sick? That’s what happened in the movie I saw. What’s he like, anyway? Your new husband.”

“Ha, ha,” Luna said loudly. “We’re not married-married, just wolf married. They do separate marriages for the human paperwork; we haven’t signed anything. And he’s a jackass. He’s rude and he argues about nothing, and he’s so stubborn about the stupidest shit.”

“Uh-huh.”

More slurping. Luna sighed, eyes dropping closed as she imagined a golden beach, her toes wriggling through gloriously warm sand.

“Is he hot?”

Luna’s eyes flew open. “What? He’s—he’s fine.”

“Oookay.” Hector paused. “Not used to you playing things down.”

“Well, what am I supposed to say? Yes, beloved fiancé, the guy I’m magically bonded to is smoking hot. He’s still a jackass! I mean, apparently, he’s going through a lot right now, but who isn’t, right?”

There was a long silence. Luna toyed with the scratchy sheets, looking longingly over at the bags of clothes she had yet to unpack. Her hair straightener was still in its box, waiting.

“And you two have to be close, or it hurts him,” Hector said. “And it’s bond magic.”

“Ye-e-es,” Luna said. She squinted up at the ceiling, which was the same hideous color as the walls. They badly needed to hire an interior designer.

“You know our rules,” Hector said. “As long as you don’t fall in love with him, it’s fine by me.”

“I’m not going to sleep with him,” Luna said.

She rolled over on her bed, ignoring the excited little flutter in her stomach.

A hundred images rushed into her mind—Oliver’s strong legs, his broad shoulders, his dark stubble.

The biteable line of his chin and the constant strain of his pecs through his too-tight shirts.

Hector had proposed an open relationship six months into their dating after Luna had mentioned liking a waiter’s hairstyle. I’m not a jealous guy, Hector said when Luna had gaped at him. If it’s just sex, I don’t care. If you start to fall for him, that’s another issue.

She’d asked if he wanted to sleep with other girls. He’d shrugged, saying he did but wouldn’t if she didn’t want him to.

Luna had thought about it and realized she didn’t mind if Hector slept with other girls, as long as he let her know and it didn’t turn into anything deeper.

It had surprised her. She’d always privately assumed she would be possessive about this kind of thing, the same way she didn’t let her brother play with any of her toys growing up.

I have your heart, Hector told her when they talked about it later. That’s what matters.

It was the sweetest thing he’d ever said to her. Luna still thought about it whenever she got cold feet about the wedding. Not that she did often. They were a good match. It was just daunting to consider being with one guy forever. She’d feel that way about any guy, she was sure.

“Sure,” Hector said, in that exact tone he’d used when she said she wasn’t going to sleep with that waiter with the good hairstyle. She had, but mostly so she could joke about it with Hector afterward. The waiter had been pretty disappointing in bed.

“So,” Hector continued. “When you said you weren’t going to get eaten in Claw Haven…”

Luna laughed louder than she had since arriving in this freezing, admittedly picturesque little town as she imagined Oliver’s head between her legs. Those dark eyes on hers as he licked at her, stubble rasping against her thighs.

“And I stand by that,” she said, still giggling to distract herself from the heat pooling at her core. “I’m going to go.”

“Tell him hi from me,” Hector said, amused.

* * *

Luna was still giggling about the phone call as she headed into the Musgrove living quarters.

They had fun together, she and Hector. They so rarely fought because they never bothered dwelling on things that would lead to a fight.

Life with Hector was one long holiday. And when she married him, that would be the rest of her life: fun and jokes and mai tais on the beach, never lingering on the serious stuff.

What kind of guy told his fiancée to go sleep with the hot werewolf she was accidentally bonded to? Hector, that was who.

Not that she was going to. Probably. Maybe. Definitely not if he still hated her.

She raised a hand to knock on the door to the Musgrove common room.

It flew open. Ben stood behind it, already waving.

Right, Luna thought, dropping her hand. Werewolf hearing.

“Great, you’re here,” Ben said, leading her over to the couch where he’d dropped Oliver face down. “I’ve never actually been around a case this bad before; everyone usually sticks close to each other after their bonding. You know?”

Before she could decide if his tone was accusatory or not, he held out a paper bag.

Luna took it and looked inside. A cluster of chocolate wolves sat at the bottom.

“Give him a few, get his blood sugar up. I’ll be in the laundry room doing lazy boy’s chores.” Ben gave Oliver an exaggerated look like they were both in on the joke. “Yell if you need us. This room isn’t soundproofed.”

“Got it,” Luna said. Then she frowned. “Wait, are the other rooms soundproofed?”

Ben laughed, heading for the door. “At our end of the inn? Are you kidding me? We got it put in with the insulation. I don’t know how any wolf survives without it. We’d have to live in different houses otherwise, and who wants that?”

He ducked into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Luna stared down at the unconscious werewolf lying face down on the couch.

It was too small for him, and his wet sneakers dangled off the edge.

He’d never looked less menacing. And she realized, as she sat gingerly on the couch arm next to his head, he’d never looked more at peace.

Other than a wrinkle in his brow, his face was lax.