Page 7 of Accidentally Wedded to a Werewolf (Claw Haven #1)

Luna strode in. She was wearing one of Sabine’s sleep shirts and a baggy pair of sweatpants.

She should’ve looked like a slob. Infuriatingly, she looked like a model showing off the latest in nightwear chic.

Her hair had been freshly blow-dried, fuzzing up around her ears.

She kept petting it like she wanted it to lie down, but it sprung back up every time.

It looked so soft. Everything in Oliver wanted to touch it.

Luna raised her elegant eyebrows expectantly. “Well?”

“It’s fine,” Oliver managed, choking the urge down. It’s just the bond, he reminded himself as his fingers itched. It’s not real.

Luna gave him an exasperated look. “Okay, seriously. Thanks for the clothes and everything, but what is going on? I drink some weird liquor and suddenly I’m werewolf married? I’m not going to grow a tail, right?”

“You have to get the bite to become a werewolf,” Sabine said. “Humans bond with werewolves all the time. You can take the bite if you want to—”

“Which she doesn’t,” Oliver said, alarmed. He glared at Sabine, incredulous. Was she honestly suggesting they turn some stranger?

“But it’s not necessary,” Sabine continued. She turned to Ben, who had slipped an arm over her shoulder. “I was already turned when we bonded. But even if I wasn’t, I would’ve chosen it anyway. It’s really up to you.”

“Oookay,” Luna said. “Well, we can go ahead and cross that option out. Speaking of crossing things out, I haven’t signed anything. Is this legally binding?”

“It is,” Grandmother Musgrove said. “Your souls are linked until you remove the bond.”

“Our souls,” Luna said with a breathy laugh. “Sure.”

Oliver’s stomach turned. He didn’t like it any more than she did, but this was serious stuff. It shouldn’t be laughed at.

“But is it legally binding?” she asked, nose wrinkling. “Like, do I have to get it removed? I’m getting married in two months.”

“You’ll be on the wolf marriage registry,” Sabine said apologetically. “It just shows up. Sorry.”

“We’ll get it removed,” Oliver said. He turned to Grandmother. “We can do the unbinding ritual soon, right? We have an elder, we have the ingredients—”

“Not the Hyacinth confractus,” Ben piped up from where he’d taken his place next to Sabine, nuzzling gently into her shoulder.

He only looked up from Sabine when he noticed everyone had fallen silent.

“What? Grandmother asked me to check our supplies before we moved out here. I checked. We’re out of confractus. ”

Aunt Barney paused in braiding her sister’s hair. “That’s the divorce flower, right? I can never remember the proper names.”

“We can get some divorce flowers,” Oliver said, desperately trying to remember his childhood wolf lessons. “We can order it in, right?”

“Nationwide shortage,” Ben said. “That’s why we haven’t gotten any more. We’re on a waitlist.”

Oliver groaned. “It grows in Alaska, right? On mountains? I can go searching tomorrow!”

“You will go searching once the snow thaws,” Grandmother corrected. “Unless you want to climb a mountain in the snow and start digging.”

Oliver thought about it.

Grandmother reached up like she was about to grasp his jaw, half fondness, half frustration. Then she stopped.

“Oliver, honestly. You can last a few weeks until the snow thaws. It’s basically spring already.” With that, she inserted herself on the couch next to Aunt Althea and Aunt Barney, shaking her hair out of its bun and presenting it for braiding.

“Right,” Luna said slowly. “And we’ll just…keep this quiet until then.”

“Gladly,” Oliver said sourly.

Luna picked at her sleep shirt. She looked bewildered by the amount of physical affection happening between the pack: both aunts turning to braid Grandmother Musgrove’s long gray hair; Darren and Leo wrestling right up against Vida’s leg while she tried to kick them away from her; Sabine and Ben nuzzling each other.

The only ones not touching anyone were Uncle Roy and Oliver, and goddamn if Oliver didn’t hate that.

Once he would’ve been braiding Grandmother’s hair with his aunts or wrestling on the ground with the kids.

Now he was standing off to the side, arms crossed, face stuck in a scowl he couldn’t seem to wipe off.

Luna sucked in a breath, giving the room a brisk grin. “Okay! So, this was super lovely, even with all the roofs caving in and the cold and the yelling and the accidental werewolf marriage. It was nice to meet you all.”

Aunt Althea made a noise of protest as Luna started slinking toward the door. “We’ve barely met you! Come, sit. Have some cocoa. Can we get some cocoa in here?”

“I’ll go,” Ben said, untangling himself from Sabine.

Luna watched him leave, looking somehow even more uncomfortable than when she was watching everyone touch each other.

“I’m really tired,” she said, patting her frizzy hair down.

“But you’re part of the pack! Until the snow thaws, anyway.” Aunt Althea patted the scant space left on the couch. “Who are you? What do you do?”

“Um…” Luna looked out at the sea of expectant faces. Her gaze lingered on Oliver, but only for a moment. Just long enough for the warmth in Oliver’s chest to burn hotter. Then she looked away, and he went cold.

Luna bent into a curtsy. Oliver couldn’t tell if it was ironic or not.

“I’m Luna Stack. I’m a Gemini, and I like noodles and warm weather. My family runs Stack Appliances.”

Sabine gasped. “Oh, you guys make such cool stuff! That vampire family over the way has a Stack hot tub, it’s fantastic. They make those fancy armchairs I showed you, remember, Aunt Barney?”

Aunt Barney asked, “Do we get a friends-and-family discount?”

Luna laughed awkwardly. “Um…”

“No discounts,” Oliver said. “She’s not pack. She’s a mistake.”

He hadn’t meant to say it so sternly. The room fell silent anyway.

“Wow,” Luna said flatly. “What a way to treat your new wife.”

He stared at her.

Luna giggled. “I’m joking! Obviously. I would never marry you, even if I didn’t already have a fiancé.”

Then she beamed. Oliver could feel the sacred liquor at the back of his throat, sweet and scalding. Did she feel him? She wasn’t a wolf, but she’d still feel it. A little piece of him. A shard. A sharp little prick irritating her insides.

“Thanks again for the clothes,” Luna said into the silence. “So cute and cozy.”

She did a little shimmy, exposing a flash of her long, flat stomach. Something deep and primal stirred in Oliver’s stomach. Oliver told it to shut the fuck up and tore his gaze away from the pale skin as it vanished under her sleep shirt.

“I’m going to bed,” Luna continued. “Toodles.”

Ben came back into the room, brows raising when he took in the strained silence. Luna grabbed the mug off him as she passed, flicking everyone a tiny finger wave as she escaped into the hall.

“So,” Ben said, flexing his newly empty hands. “Ollie married a woman who says toodles. Unironically.”

“It was ironic,” Oliver protested. “It has to be ironic.”

“Maybe it started ironic, and it became sincere,” Sabine suggested, ducking back under her husband’s arm.

“Yeah, she seems really sincere.” Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Oliver,” Grandmother Musgrove said, soft but stern as her hair was braided by four hands at once. “That’s your wife.”

Anger sparked through Oliver in a wave.

“That’s not my wife!” he exploded. “That’s a spoiled LA heiress who’s never had to work a day in her life. I know everybody finds it so funny, but I don’t. Alright? I’m bound to some stranger. This isn’t funny to me.”

“Hear, hear,” said Uncle Roy quietly, the first words he’d spoken since Luna came back in the room. “The further away she stays, the better.”

Hear, hear, Oliver thought. But before he could say anything, the warmth in his chest went so intensely cold that it made him grunt.

“As far away as she can stay, anyway,” Uncle Roy continued with a frown. “Is it hitting already? She’s only down in the guest hall.”

“I know,” Oliver gritted out. He rubbed his chest. The ice in his rib cage was throbbing now, radiating out to the rest of his body. The tips of his fingers ached from the cold.

“Maybe she’s exploring the house,” Uncle Roy said, eyes going steely. “Looking for our weaknesses.”

Grandmother Musgrove cocked her head, listening. “She’s in her room. Mumbling something about the quality of our sheets.”

Oliver kept rubbing his chest. Why did he already know she was in her room?

It made sense, but it was more than that.

It was a knowing, deep in his heart. The bond was reporting back to him, letting him know where his bondmate was.

God, that was going to be annoying. He’d be trying to focus on paperwork, and the bond would be blaring like the world’s most annoying Google pin, alerting him to where his other half was. Even though he hadn’t asked.

Ben winced in sympathy. “That’s strong, dude. I had to be on the other side of the house before it started hurting.”

“Great,” Oliver muttered.

Ben laid a big hand on his shoulder. “It’s strongest when the bond is new. It’ll get easier with time.”

“It’d better,” Oliver said. He rubbed his chest harder, hoping it would soothe the numbing cold. It didn’t. Nothing would—except getting close to the last person in this inn he wanted to get close to.