Page 4 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf
Vera Castell saw to that. My old boss blamed me for her mistake. Fired me in front of the entire Winter Gala committee. My name was a punch line for six months. A whisper of “Isn’t she the one who—?”
I rebuilt myself from nothing. I crawled back up.
And now a dragon heiress just handed me the weight of her entire clan’s legacy in a velvet box and told me not to drop it.
I won’t.
Even if my hands are shaking.
Even if my heart feels like it’s stuck between my ribs.
Courtney taps lightly on the door, easing it halfway open to peek inside.
“Is it safe to come back?”
“Yes, hurricane Seraphina has passed,” I say, attempting humor.
She giggles softly, stepping inside with a relieved smile. Her eyes dart around the room, landing on her laptop still resting on Silverine's desk.
“Oh, I almost forgot this,” she mumbles, swiftly retrieving the device and folding it shut. The camera indicator flashes once more before the screen goes dark, but I dismiss the flicker as just another tech quirk. I’m glad Seraphina didn’t notice it, though. It took me six months to gain the dragon’s trust. I don’t want something as insignificant asa forgotten camera light on to ruin it. Courtney clutches the laptop firmly against her chest, cheeks flushed again.
“The glassblower says platinum will increase the cost by forty percent.”
"Approve it." I pull out my binder, flip to the blue section, and shake my head. “I have to call the linen company. Their shipment has been delayed.”
She nods, then hesitates. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine," I say automatically. Then, seeing her genuine concern, I soften. "Thanks, Courtney. Really."
She smiles, a little brighter now, and disappears down the hall.
Outside, the ocean reflects the fading sun. Wind brushes against the old glass.
After she leaves, I sink into the chair by the window, binder still open. My fingers press into the edge of the page until they ache. Light has fallen to low embers, turning the glass into a mirror that reflects my tired face back at me. Outside, the rose garden is visible only as dark shapes against the darker sky.
After another steadying breath, I pull my binder close, running my fingers over the embossed logo of Ever After & Co.
Ten days until the wedding. Ten days to manage a troll chef and coordinate security for two dragon families and a hundred celebrity guests, each with their own little extra demands.
And then days to source an impossibly rare blue orchid.
“You’ve survived worse,” I whisper. “This is just a case of Bridezilla.”
Then I glance at the hidden safe again.
“A dragon Bridezilla.”
Chapter 2
Adrian
Islumpintomyoffice chair, wrapping my fingers around the steaming mug like it's a lifeline. The black coffee burns my tongue, but I welcome the pain. Anything to kick-start my foggy brain.
Another night, another exercise in staring at the ceiling.
Sleep and I have never been on friendly terms. Even before I took over from my father as sheriff of Saltford Bay, rest came in fitful bursts. But these days? Two, maybe three hours if I'm lucky. My body runs hot, restless, like anengine that can't idle properly.
I scrub a hand over my stubbled jaw, feeling the fatigue settled deep in my bones. My wolf paces anxiously inside my chest, the beast ever restless.