Page 28 of Accidentally Wedded to a Werewolf (Claw Haven #1)

The Musgroves gathered on the porch to wave them off the next morning.

“We don’t want some big send-off,” Oliver said as they headed for the car. “You can go back to bed.”

“We’re already up,” said Darren grumpily, leaning against Vida so hard that whenever she tried to move he almost fell over.

Luna couldn’t help but look back as she got into the car. Her family would never have bothered to get up this early to see her off before a trip, no matter how important.

“Safe travels,” Grandmother Musgrove called as Oliver pulled out of the inn parking lot with their hiking gear in the back seat.

Luna waved until they were out of sight. Then she turned to Oliver, her toes flexed in her fashionable but practical hiking boots. “You know, you’ll probably have to carry me if this hike takes more than three hours.”

“What, you?” He snorted. “I suspected as much, princess. Those boots are worn in, right?”

Luna flexed her toes harder. They weren’t, but she was wearing double socks like Sabine had advised her the other day.

That made her safe from blisters, right?

She suddenly wished she’d gone on all those hiking trips her LA friends had invited her on.

The longest hike she’d done was two hours, and she’d spent the last forty minutes whining for Hector to carry her.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot at the base of the mountain. Luna stared up at it as Oliver checked their supplies in the giant backpack he’d insisted on taking with them. The mountain was shockingly beautiful, even if it was going to be hell on Luna’s poor feet.

She snapped a photo on her phone.

“For the website,” she explained when Oliver glanced over. “Gotta have good pictures of all the attractions.”

Oliver went back to zipping up the backpack. “Right. Because you’re going to revamp us whether we want you to or not.”

“You’ll thank me one day,” she said cheerily. “Unless you still want your family business to go down in flames.”

His head snapped up. It took Luna a second to realize why the phrasing might’ve freaked him out.

“I mean,” she said hastily, trying not to imagine the inn burning thanks to some crazy woman with a prejudice against werewolves. “Wouldn’t want all that laundry and roof-fixing to go to waste, right?”

She headed toward the start of the mountain path, which was helpfully marked with a sign. After a second, he followed, and Luna felt the bond hum in satisfaction.

“There’s still a little bit of snow up there,” she pointed out. “We’re sure it won’t start snowing again before we get down?”

“If the weather forecast has anything to say about it, no,” he said.

“And you’re sure you can guide us up there okay?”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “It’s hardly guiding. The path is straightforward, and there are flowers all over once you get high enough.” He hitched the backpack further up his shoulders. “Come on. If we’re lucky, we can make it back by dinner.”

He set off up the trail. Luna sighed and followed, feet already sweating in her double socks and boots.

* * *

Three and a half hours later, Luna had seen several disgusting bugs and zero flowers.

“Just keep an eye out for a white flower with a red center,” Oliver said for the dozenth time, looking like he was considering tossing her off the mountain.

Luna almost wished he would. Her feet hurt, she was sweaty and gross, and her nose was freezing.

The bond helped a little, warming her up from the inside out whenever she got close enough.

But it wasn’t a match for the chilly air surrounding them.

“I didn’t even ask for this,” she complained as she trudged after him. “Why am I the one going up the stupid mountain for the stupid breakup flower?”

“Because I’m going,” he reminded her. “Which means you have to come too, or I would’ve passed out before I even got to the parking lot. Hurry up.”

“You hurry up,” she muttered. She clutched her jacket closer to her chest since he had no room in his backpack and had refused to carry it for her.

When she’d asked what the hell was even in that giant backpack he was lugging around for a one-day hike, he’d given her a look like she was the biggest idiot in the world and started listing off first aid equipment, blankets, a flare and nonperishable foods.

Luna came to a stop, wheezing. “Okay! I’m done! We need to rest.”

“You need to rest,” he corrected, hopping easily up a rocky bit of path. “The faster we get this over with, the faster we can break this bond and go back to our lives. Come on.”

Luna frowned, oddly stung. Oliver had been…different today. As in, he had been more like his old self.

It didn’t make sense. He was fond of her; Luna was almost sure of it. So why was he acting like she was a thorn in his side again? Was he trying to make her inevitable departure easier on himself by reverting into the asshole who had scowled at her that first night at the inn?

If so, that was stupid. Luna was always going to leave. Why couldn’t they make nice until then? They’d been doing so much better lately. Until Oliver woke up this morning and decided to be a jackass again.

Well, Luna thought. If he’s going to be immature about this, so am I.

With that, she flopped down on the ground.

Oliver paused. Luna wondered if he’d stopped because he heard her sit down or because the bond had started to stretch, urging him to go back. Luna could feel it in her chest, warm tendrils reaching out toward him.

“Flowers all over the mountain,” Luna said. “Really?”

“Once you get high enough,” Oliver answered.

He turned and sighed when he saw her sitting in the dirt.

“Can you just get over yourself for five seconds? Your feet hurt, boo-hoo. When this is over and you go back to your life, your feet will never hurt again. You could pay someone to carry you up a hill.”

Luna thought back to Hector, who hadn’t carried her the rest of the way no matter how hard she’d begged. He’d tried joking his way out of it, but the more she’d begged, the quieter he’d gotten. Finally, he’d turned around and said, Babe, you’re not making this very fun right now.

It had made Luna go quiet for a full five minutes.

They were, admittedly, the fun couple. It was what drew them to each other.

It wasn’t just her; if Hector ever got too serious, which didn’t happen often, Luna would tell him to go back to normal.

Being serious is for boring people, he liked to say.

But this was Oliver. Their tentative truce was almost over. Luna had yelled in his face so many times, what was one more?

“I will get a train of people to carry me,” she hissed, surging to her sore feet. “I can’t wait to get back to normal! Being bonded to you has been the worst month of my life.”

Oliver’s jaw twitched. For a moment, she thought she might have hurt his feelings.

Then he snarled. “Here I thought you were enjoying yourself. Worming your way into my family, remaking the inn in your own image—”

“Excuse you, I’m making it better!”

“Nobody asked you,” Oliver argued. “Just pay for a new sign and leave!”

“I would love to,” Luna yelled. “Unfortunately, someone decided to drink the bond nectar and—”

She stopped. There, on a cliff face over a steep drop, was a small flower poking out of the rocks. A cluster of white with a red center.

Luna cried out triumphantly. “Divorce flower! Yes!”

Oliver whipped around to look. His scowl melted into shock when he saw Luna was not in fact joking. Then it set into steely determination.

“Whoa,” Luna said as he stalked toward the cliff edge. “Um… Bit of a drop.”

“It’s fine,” he replied. He didn’t even look down at the steep drop between them and the cliff face. A log protruded over the gap, thick and rotting.

Luna winced as Oliver stepped onto the log, testing its give. “Are you seriously going to walk out on that?”

“No,” Oliver said. “Of course not.”

He got down on the ground and started to shimmy across the log.

“Oh,” Luna said. “Much better.”

She padded cautiously over to the edge of the cliff.

Oliver was halfway across the log, clinging like a spider monkey.

The drop loomed below, maybe ten feet of empty space before it came to an abrupt stop at the patch of path where they had briefly stopped to have an impassioned argument about the dubious usefulness of double-socking.

“Are you sure this is the best way to get it?” Luna asked as Oliver climbed across the log.

Oliver shushed her. “I almost have it.”

He stretched out, straining toward the flower. His fingers skimmed the white petals.

Luna grimaced. “I don’t know. That log looks a little—”

A sharp crack rang out as the log snapped in two. Oliver scrambled back, but it was too late. The log fell, taking Oliver with it.

Luna shrieked. She rushed to the edge of the cliff. The bond inside her chest spasmed with pain as she peered over.

Oliver lay on the path below them, the log splintered around him. He was groaning, clutching his ankle.

“Oh my god,” Luna yelled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” Oliver croaked, face twisted in agony.

Another pulse of pain rushed through the bond. Something was very wrong.

It took her several minutes to rush back down the path. Her cell phone signal never went higher than one bar, flickering in and out of service and not sending a single one of her emergency texts.

When she finally reached the spot where Oliver had fallen, she found him sitting up against a tree clutching his phone morosely. The backpack was resting beside him.

She dropped to her knees next to him. “Are you okay? Did I go too far?”

“Nope,” he said through gritted teeth, arms curled protectively around his legs. “Are you getting any signal?”

She shook her head, looking him over. She couldn’t see any broken bones.

“Where are you hurt? I felt something when you hit the ground.”

“Wolves heal fast,” Oliver said.