Page 18 of Fetch Me A Mate (Shifter Mates of Hollow Oak #1)

ROWAN

R owan left the inn with Diana's questions echoing in his head. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the square, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something darker was watching from the edges.

He needed a drink. Something stronger than coffee, something that might quiet the restless energy thrumming through his veins.

The Silver Fang Tavern sat on the corner like a fortress, its weathered sign creaking in the breeze. Maeve's domain, where shifters could be themselves without pretense. Rowan pushed through the heavy oak door into familiar dimness.

Maeve called from behind the bar. "You look like hell, wolf."

"Feel worse." Rowan settled onto a barstool, grateful for the tavern's isolation. Only two other patrons, both nursing beers in comfortable silence. "Whiskey. The good stuff."

Maeve poured without comment, sliding the glass across scarred wood. "Trouble at the inn?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Right." Maeve's dark eyes studied his face. "That why you're wound tighter than a spring and prowling the square like you're hunting something?"

Rowan drained half the whiskey in one swallow, welcoming the burn. "Just want Diana's gathering to go well tomorrow."

"Diana's gathering." Maeve's tone was flat. "That what we're calling it?"

"It's what it is."

"And the extra locks? The way you've been checking sight lines and escape routes?" Maeve leaned against the bar. "That normal party planning where you come from?"

Rowan's wolf snarled at the questioning, at being cornered even by an ally. "Drop it, Maeve."

"Can't do that. This is my territory, my responsibility. If something's coming for this town, I need to know."

"It's not coming for the town."

The admission slipped out before he could stop it. Maeve's expression sharpened immediately.

"But it is coming."

Rowan finished his whiskey and signaled for another. "Yeah."

"When?"

"Soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon enough." The second whiskey burned less. "Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tonight."

Maeve poured herself a shot and matched his pace. "Pack business?"

"Former pack business."

"The kind that leaves bodies or the kind that just leaves scars?"

Rowan's hands clenched around his glass. "Depends how cooperative I am."

"And how cooperative are you planning to be?"

"Not at all."

Maeve nodded slowly. "Good. This town's got enough ghosts without adding yours to the collection."

They drank in silence for a few minutes, the weight of unspoken understanding settling between them. Outside, the square went about its normal business, oblivious to the storm brewing.

"She doesn't know, does she?" Maeve said finally. "Diana."

"No."

"Planning to tell her?"

"Planning to handle it before it becomes her problem."

"Noble. Stupid, but noble." Maeve refilled both glasses. "What if you can't handle it alone?"

"Then I run. Like before."

"Leaving her behind?"

Rowan's wolf recoiled at the idea, claws scraping against his ribs in protest. Leave their mate? Abandon their claim?

"If that's what it takes to keep her safe."

"And if she doesn't want to be kept safe? If she wants to fight beside you?"

"She's human, Maeve. This isn't her fight."

"It is if they make it her fight. And from the way you're acting, they already have."

Rowan stared into his whiskey, seeing Diana's face in the amber liquid. Her smile when she'd pinned on Miriam's locket. Her determination to make the inn perfect for tomorrow's gathering. Her growing suspicion that he was hiding something dangerous.

"She deserves better than getting caught in my mess," he said quietly.

"Maybe. But she's already caught, isn't she?" Maeve's tone gentled slightly. "Question is whether you trust her enough to let her make her own choices about it."

Before Rowan could respond, footsteps sounded from the tavern's back entrance. Heavy boots on wooden floors, moving with the confidence of someone who belonged everywhere they went.

He knew that gait, that particular rhythm of predator trying to look civilized.

"Don't turn around," he told Maeve quietly. "Keep pouring. Act normal."

"How normal is normal when there's a strange wolf in my bar?" Maeve's hand drifted toward the baseball bat she kept behind the register.

"Normal enough that he doesn't think we're planning anything."

The footsteps stopped directly behind Rowan's chair. A familiar scent wrapped around him like a noose—pine forest and old dominance, pack hierarchy made manifest in pheromones.

"Hello, brother."

Rowan didn't turn around. "Kael."

"Been a long time." Kael's voice carried the same smooth authority it always had, beta to the bone. "You look good. Domestic life suits you."

"What do you want?"

"Just delivering a message." Kael moved to stand beside the bar, positioning himself where Rowan had to look at him. Tall and lean like all the pack's enforcers, dark hair perfectly styled, eyes the color of winter ice. "Alpha wants to see you."

"Alpha can want a lot of things."

"This isn't a request, Rowan." Kael's smile was sharp as broken glass. "You know how this works."

"I know how it used to work." Rowan finally turned to face him fully, letting his own wolf rise close enough to the top that his eyes flashed silver. "Things change."

"Some things. Others..." Kael shrugged, the gesture deceptively casual. "Pack bonds are forever. Blood calls to blood. You can't outrun what you are."

"Watch me."

Kael's laugh was soft, dangerous. "Oh, I intend to. We all do." His gaze flicked toward the tavern's front windows, toward the square beyond. "Lovely little town. Quiet. Peaceful. The kind of place where everyone knows everyone else's business."

The threat was subtle but unmistakable. Rowan's wolf snarled, pushing against his control.

"Leave them out of this."

"Them?" Kael's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "Who said anything about them? I'm just appreciating the local scenery. That inn, for instance. Beautiful old building. Lot of history there. Be a shame if something happened to... tarnish its reputation."

Maeve's hand tightened on the bat handle. "You're not welcome here."

"I'm not staying." Kael's attention remained fixed on Rowan. "Just passing through. Delivering a message from family to family."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, setting it on the bar between them. "Tomorrow night. Moonmirror Lake, north shore. Midnight."

"I'm not coming."

"Your choice." Kael's smile widened. "But understand the consequences of that choice. Alpha's been patient, but patience has limits. And when those limits are reached..." He glanced toward the windows again. "Well. Sometimes innocent people get caught in the crossfire."

Rowan stood slowly, his wolf pushing so close to visibility that his bones ached with the need to shift. "If you touch her?—"

"Her?" Kael's expression lit with predatory interest. "The pretty innkeeper? Is that what this is about? Have you been playing house with a human, brother?"

The old hierarchy pressed down like a physical weight, beta authority trying to force submission from a wolf who'd spent three years learning to stand alone. Rowan's vision edged with silver, his control stretching thinner with each heartbeat.

"Stay away from Diana."

"Diana." Kael rolled the name around his tongue like he was tasting it. "That's sweet. Really. But you know how this ends, don't you? You come home with us, or we make sure you have nothing left to stay for."

"Get out."

"I'm going. But remember, brother—tomorrow night. Don't keep family waiting."

Kael headed for the back door, pausing in the threshold to look back.

"Oh, and Rowan? Give my regards to your innkeeper. I’m sure it’ll be a lovely gathering. Be a shame if something disrupted all that hard work she's put in."

The door closed behind him with a soft click that echoed like a gunshot in the sudden silence.

Rowan sank back onto his barstool, hands shaking with barely contained violence. His wolf clawed at his ribs, demanding blood, demanding protection for their mate, demanding an end to the threats that circled her like vultures.

Maeve poured another whiskey and pushed it toward him. "So. That was illuminating."

"They know about her."

"Yeah, they do." Maeve's voice was grim. "Question is what you're going to do about it."

Rowan stared at the folded paper Kael had left behind. A summons. A trap. A choice between his past and his future.

"I don't really know," he said honestly.

"Well, you've got until tomorrow night to figure it out." Maeve collected the empty glasses. "But whatever you decide, remember this—running might keep her safe in the short term, but it won't solve the problem. They'll keep coming. They always do."

Rowan left the tavern with Kael's threats replaying and his wolf howling for blood. Tomorrow night, Diana would host her gathering, cementing her place in Hollow Oak's heart.

And at midnight, he'd have to choose between answering his pack's summons or watching them destroy everything she'd built.

The choice should have been easy.

It wasn't.