Page 2 of Accidentally Wedded to a Werewolf (Claw Haven #1)

“The roof’s gonna cave in,” Leo announced.

Oliver Musgrove sighed and looked up from the front desk. His six-year-old nephew was lying in the middle of the empty lobby, staring up at the ceiling.

“Nothing’s going to cave in,” Oliver told him, shuffling a stack of invoices. “Get out of the lobby. The guests don’t want to step over a kid to get to the front desk.”

“We don’t have guests,” Leo pointed out, not moving. He kicked his feet in the air, his light-up sneakers glinting. “Mr. Jackson says it’s gonna cave in, and his job is roofs.”

“His job isn’t just roofs,” Oliver said, scowling. “And Jackson needs to keep his nose out of our business.”

The inn was fine. Sure, the roof leaked.

The doors sometimes wobbled on their hinges.

The pipes screeched when you turned on the hot faucet.

But you put up with certain things in an old place like this, as Oliver kept insisting to the rest of his family, who were currently being useless in the guest common room while Oliver did paperwork.

Leo pushed himself up with a sigh, padding over to the front desk. Every step made his light-up sneakers glow even brighter. He cocked his head, listening to the sounds of the party. Leo was full wolf, his hearing just as keen as Oliver’s.

Oliver focused. He could hear every irritating noise through the twisting hallways: loud music, an aunt’s grating giggles.

Somebody roared in laughter, someone else roared with the distinct tones of an orc.

And underneath it all were Grandmother’s low tones, too muffled to make out.

He wouldn’t be able to hear them at all if she weren’t his family.

Werewolf senses got even keener when it came to pack.

Leo rested his chin on the counter. “Are you coming to the party, Uncle Ollie?”

“No,” Oliver snapped. “I’m working.”

Leo pouted. “Dad says you’re only pretending to work so you don’t have to talk to people.”

“Well, your dad’s a dick,” Oliver said and winced. “Don’t tell him I swore in front of you. He’s still pissed about the A-hole thing.”

“Asshole,” Leo corrected proudly.

Oliver shushed him. His little brother Ben had gotten annoyingly uptight about swear words since Leo came along.

Actually, he’d gotten so responsible that everybody started joking that maybe he could be alpha one day.

When it first came up, Oliver had laughed along with the rest of his family.

Oliver’s place as the next alpha was inevitable.

Grandmother was solid in her decision, and so was Oliver.

Then the fire happened, and the pack moved to Claw Haven.

A proud new start, they claimed. For Oliver, it had been a guilty slink with his tail between his legs, sitting on a secret he could never tell the family.

He started snapping at people, going off alone instead of airing out his problems to a trusted ear.

His pack thought it was the guilt of an up-and-coming leader not being able to protect his family from a crazy hunter who’d tried to burn them in their beds.

No one knew the real reason it shook Oliver so deeply.

And if Oliver had anything to say about it, they’d never find out.

Ben came barreling into the lobby, his wife, Sabine, under his bulky arm.

“Wondering where you two got to,” Ben said, leaning on the counter next to his son. “What’s the holdup?”

Leo pointed at the roof. “Roof’s gonna cave in!”

“It’s not caving in,” Oliver protested as they all looked up at it.

Outside, the wind howled. Oliver winced. The storm was picking up, cold air leaking through the thin insulation.

Sabine squinted, blond hair falling over her scarred eye. “I don’t know about caving in, but that’s definitely going to drip. Do you want to get the buckets, honey?”

“Okay,” said Leo, rushing off. He was still excited about the inn, always asking what he could do to help. Oliver almost felt bad turning him down all the time.

Sabine pushed her hair out of her face. She’d never been embarrassed by the scar over her left eye, even when it was bright red and healing in the days after Ben found her in the woods mauled by a bear.

A scar means I survived, she’d told Oliver once. Why would I want to hide that?

Ben reached over the counter, tweaking an invoice Oliver was stacking. “Put down the work for five seconds, man. Come and have fun with us. Remember fun?”

“No,” Oliver said sarcastically.

Ben snorted, stroking a line down Sabine’s shoulder absently.

Once upon a time, they used to throw parties, huge and lavish.

Everyone would be invited. Ben and Oliver would shout and dance and run through the woods until their legs hurt.

They’d even gotten matching tattoos on their elbows: party animals, with a howling wolf curling on top of the words.

Now here they were. Oliver was doing work so he wouldn’t have to go to a party, and Ben was ditching early to hang out with his wife and kid. How times changed.

“It’s a great time up there,” Ben tried. “The townsfolk are super friendly. I think you’d like them—don’t roll your eyes, jackass; you would like them if you just talked to them.”

“I’ve talked to them,” Oliver said, shuffling his invoices again so he’d have to rearrange them in a second. “They won’t stop talking to me. Every time I dare leave the inn, everyone’s going Hi, Oliver! How’s it going, Oliver? Try my chocolates, Oliver; they’re wolf-safe!”

“Wow,” Sabine said flatly. “What a bunch of jerks.”

“I hate it when people give me free chocolate I can actually eat,” Ben agreed.

“It’s condescending,” Oliver argued. “She keeps asking, like one day I’m going to change my mind about her stupid little chocolates—”

A throat cleared. Oliver looked up just in time to see Jackson Jay, dragonborn and roof guy extraordinaire, come around the corner. He looked awkward, scratching his scales in the way he did when he wanted to get out of a conversation. Which, in Oliver’s opinion, wasn’t often enough.

Then a woman followed after him, and Oliver understood why he looked awkward.

Beth Haberdash was the hedgehog woman who owned the chocolate store on Main Street.

She would be sweet if she wasn’t so annoying.

Always bumbling and stammering and getting all apologetic about selling her own chocolates, like she wasn’t the one who opened the damn shop.

And she kept getting things stuck on the spikes protruding from her back.

Oliver grimaced. This was what he got for not paying attention to his surroundings. He tried to be better nowadays, always on alert. But holy shit, always being on alert was exhausting.

“Hiya,” said Jackson. “Just about to head out. Wanted to say goodbye to all the hosts first.”

“Bye,” Oliver said loudly.

Ben gave him an exasperated look, then turned to Jackson. “Thanks for coming, Jackson. Good to finally get everyone around for a housewarming party.”

A particularly loud howl of wind made them all look around nervously.

Jackson pointed at the roof. “I’m telling you, one day soon that roof’s gonna—”

“The roof’s not going to cave in,” Oliver said.

Jackson shrugged. “If you say so. If it does, I’ll come help fix it.”

“It won’t happen,” Oliver said icily. “I fixed it myself. It’s a solid roof.”

Another gust of wind rocked the inn. A breeze blew through, making Beth and Jackson shiver.

Ben gave him another pointed look. Oliver shuffled his invoices around, pretending to look busy. He didn’t even know what he was stacking. He’d have to sort them out for real later. They looked important.

Sabine smiled over at Beth. “Are those the chocolates we were talking about?”

“What?” Beth shrank against the drafty wall, her back spikes poking into the wallpaper. There was a ripping noise, and Beth jumped forward, gasping. “Oh god, sorry.”

“No harm done,” Sabine said, holding her hand out for the bag of chocolates.

Ben turned to Oliver. “We’re going to give them out to guests. You know, leave one on their pillow.”

“Right,” Oliver said. “For all the many, many guests who come through this…charming little town.”

Ben gave him an irritating grin. The same grin he gave Oliver every time Oliver complained about their alpha dragging them to backwater Alaska to set up an inn in one of the only monster-centric towns on the West Coast. Oliver had half a mind to shut it down as soon as Grandmother transferred her role as alpha to him, which should be happening any day now.

They wouldn’t move out of town, of course—they were safe here.

Oliver could put up with the annoying locals if his pack was protected.

But they were losing money faster than they were earning it.

Claw Haven was a safe place for quiet monsters, not a tourist trap.

That was why they’d moved here. What was the point of having an inn in a town nobody passed through?

Oliver waited for Beth and Jackson to shuffle out into the cold. Then he turned to Ben and hissed, “Why are we even doing this? We opened months ago. This is stupid.”

“Because Grandmother thought it was time,” Ben said, fixing Oliver with a pointed look.

They were supposed to have the party when they opened. But Oliver kept putting it off, saying they weren’t ready, there were still things around the inn that needed to be fixed.

Grandmother had seen right through him, obviously, but she’d let him have his way for a few months before finally putting her foot down.

We’re an inn, she’d reminded him when she sent him to drop off invitations. Our doors are supposed to be open.