Page 5 of Accidentally Wedded to a Werewolf (Claw Haven #1)

“I said I’d meet you in the Bahamas,” Hector replied. “Did you find a motel, or are you being eaten by monsters?”

“Nobody’s eating me,” Luna said. She rubbed her robed arms, grimacing at the itchy material. She should be pulling up to the airport right now, getting ready for glittering beaches and warm air. Not this itchy, freezing crap.

“I found an inn,” she said. “When I crashed into the sign right outside the parking lot. The front desk guy was such an asshole, but I met the owner, and I don’t think they’ll sue.

I might have to smooth things over a little more, though, so I’m going to go rub elbows at some party they’re throwing. ”

“Rough night,” Hector said distractedly. “But no monsters?”

“No, there are monsters.” Luna looked up as if expecting to find Grandmother Musgrove hiding behind a curtain. “Most of the townsfolk are monsters, apparently. This inn is owned by werewolves.”

“Oooh. Watch out, they might go full wolf on you.”

“Don’t be mean,” Luna chided, trying to pace and getting caught out by the landline wire. “They haven’t even gone half wolf on me. Okay, the front desk guy was growly, but he didn’t pull out any claws! And the owner seemed really nice! They’re family-owned, just like us.”

“Uh-huh,” Hector said, letting her know he wasn’t actually listening. “But the snow will clear up by tomorrow? They’ll show you how to put chains on your tires, and I’ll see you in the Bahamas?”

Luna rolled her eyes. “A little bit of sympathy, Hec! I crashed my car! I’m stranded in a leaky inn in the middle of nowhere, and all my clothes are ruined thanks to the snow!”

“Poor baby,” Hector crooned immediately, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “You want me to call your dad and get him to reschedule the flight?”

“No. Easier if I pay for it. I don’t know when I’ll actually get to the airport.

” Luna stifled a yawn. All this stress was exhausting.

She’d make a quick appearance at the party, be her usual fun-loving self until she made sure the Musgroves loved her—most of them, anyway—then collapse into bed. Hopefully, they had electric blankets.

“Okay,” he said, unaffected once more. She’d always liked that about him: Everything slid off Hector, no matter the issue. He was always there with an easy grin and a joke. It was what made them such a perfect match.

“Have a good night,” he said. “Don’t get—”

“I won’t get eaten,” Luna said. “God. Have a good flight, you warm bastard. Love you.”

“Love you,” he echoed like an afterthought.

* * *

The obby was empty once again. The ceiling leaked a steady stream into a new bucket, the wood creaking. Faint music drifted in from the hallway.

Luna shivered, dragging her itchy robe closer around her. She was wearing socks, but she wished they provided complementary slippers along with this robe. And a hairdryer. Her hair was a limp, frigid press against her cheeks.

She was about to follow the music down the hall when a flash of blue caught her eye. She looked over and saw the mystery booze Oliver had been drinking perched at the edge of the front desk.

Luna paused. The bottle was pretty, all slim and curvy in ways that didn’t match this shabby little inn. This was a bottle that belonged at a cool loft party. Or, Luna considered as she picked it up by its strange warped handle, a Halloween party. It wouldn’t look out of place in some fairy ritual.

“Or werewolf ritual,” Luna mumbled and snorted.

It didn’t have a label, but that guy had been drinking it. It had to be safe. And if it had wolfsbane in it, Luna would just get drunk a lot faster.

She lifted the bottle.

The roof creaked again. This time, it was so loud it overtook the howl of snow outside.

Luna paused, the bottle resting against her lips.

After one more creak, the wood fell silent.

Luna shrugged and tipped the bottle back, liquid running into her mouth.

It tasted…strange. Bitter with a fruity aftertaste.

But the strangest part was that it was warm.

Nothing in this room was warm. Maybe it was from the guy holding it, body heat leaching from his hand and through the glass, transferring into the liquid sliding down her throat.

Luna pulled back, smacking her lips.

“Huh,” she said.

Then the ceiling fell in.

One second everything was normal, just a steady stream of water falling into the bucket. Then there was a horrible crack that made Luna jump, wood and metal collapsing into the carpet to reveal a hole in the roof.

Luna shrieked. Snow swirled in through the hole, cold wind whipping her robe. It wasn’t storming anymore, but it was still snowing hard, and Luna immediately broke into goose bumps.

People came tearing around the corner. A vampire arrived first, his fanged mouth falling open in shock. Then an orc holding a beer bottle, with what looked like engine oil stains on his tight Henley shirt.

“Oh, shit,” said the orc. He turned back toward the hallway, calling down, “Everybody owes Jackson ten bucks! The roof caved in!”

“The roof did not—” came that infuriating voice. Then it stopped, Hot Jackass coming to a standstill in the lobby as he stared up at the gaping hole in the ceiling.

Grandmother Musgrove arrived beside him, strands of hair falling out of her neat bun.

“What happened?” she asked. Her eyes widened on Luna. “Oh. Oh.”

An older werewolf stumbled to a stop behind them, panting. He was wizened and hairy, a burn scar blotching his chin and neck. His gaze fell not on the hole, but on Luna, an ugly scowl creasing his face.

More monsters poured into the lobby. Minotaurs with party hats between their horns, dragons in scuffed overalls. Chimeras, gargoyles, orcs, vampires, a mermaid in a wheelchair.

Luna barely looked at them. She was too busy staring back at the ever-growing pack of werewolves, all of whom were staring right at her. The scarred old man was still scowling; several kids were frowning at their parents in confusion.

Oliver kneaded his forehead. Luna could hear his teeth grinding even over the wind and music, which nobody had turned off. The macarena drifted down the hallway, heading to a crescendo.

“What happened?” Oliver snapped.

Grandmother Musgrove cocked her head. She wasn’t staring at Luna, she realized. She was staring at the bottle in her hand, her expression opening in puzzled wonder.

“The roof caved in,” Grandmother Musgrove announced, turning to look at him. “Also, it seems you’re married. Congratulations.”