The Shtriga (The Sanctuary #3)

Chapter 1

One

Zamir

One day, probably much sooner than I thought, I would die alone.

My friends at the Sanctuary had found their mates left and right, but I was confident I wouldn't get the same opportunity.

Shade, who—before his mate found him—couldn't even leave the area he lived in, much less the Sanctuary itself, was happily mated before me, and that said everything.

I'd never find my mate.

I was destined to be alone forever, which was fair. Someone like me, someone who ate his friends' life forces to survive, didn't deserve a fated mate. I'd end up feeding on their life force too, and how could I live with doing that to someone I was supposed to love?

"Why the glum face?"

I jumped. How lost in my thoughts had I been that I hadn't noticed Keoni arrive? The clatter of his cart could be heard anywhere in the Forest, and yet he'd managed to sneak up on me.

"I'm not glum."

"Yeah, and I have four perfectly working legs," he retorted, one brow raised. His blond curls were as poofy as ever, and his baby-blue eyes were far too knowing as he gazed at me.

Sighing, I stood up, and leaned against the tree I'd been sitting under. "I feel a little lonely, I guess."

"Oof, I know what you mean. Everywhere I look, someone's being all lovey-dovey with their mate."

"Right? Like, I'm happy for them, but at the same time, I can't help but be a little envious."

Keoni nodded sagely. "You know what you need?"

"What?"

"You need to get out of here. Go outside. Get drunk. Have some fun."

"You know supes can't get drunk." And even if we could, intoxication around humans with delicious and so-easy-to-consume life forces wouldn't be a good idea for me.

"Not on human alcohol you can't," he said with a grin. "Remember that bar Haruto mentioned? The Lair? It's owned by a dragon, and he has a special supe menu."

I raised a brow, intrigued. I'd never gotten drunk. Like I'd said, human alcohol was useless to supes, and I'd never heard of a supe-run bar before. I imagined if they served alcohol to supes, they had some way to make sure said supes wouldn't hurt humans under the influence.

Drowning my loneliness in alcohol sounded like as good an idea as any. It would at least let me forget for a few hours, and at this point, I'd take it.

"Okay, I'll go. A little later, though. Drinking is one thing, but doing so in the middle of the day? I haven't fallen that far."

Keoni chuckled, then patted my arm. "Good. Bring me back a bottle of Dragon Fire, will you?"

I raised a brow at him, guessing it was one of the special drinks, and nodded. Keoni was older than he looked, a secret he'd confided only in me, maybe because he knew I'd keep it to myself, unlike some of our other neighbors, who loved gossiping,

Whatever the reason, I was his secret keeper, and I didn't mind. I'd told him some of mine too. He was the only one who knew how much I hated what I was, and he'd never tried to convince me otherwise, just like I'd never tried to tell him that he didn't have to hide his real age.

Nolan

I scratched under our newest family member's chin, and the cat started to purr instantly, turning his head this way and that to get scratches in the right areas.

He was around four years old, and I'd named him Dots because he had a big black dot on his back and a small orange one under his chin.

He also had one blue and one yellow eye, and he'd been at the shelter for months, and I couldn't understand why no one had wanted a cat as sweet as him.

"Would you like to meet the others?" I asked, and he purred some more.

Smiling, I picked him up, and carried him out of the guest room where he'd spent a few minutes picking up the scents of all the other members of my little furry family before I introduced him to them.

Clip and Muffin, my two German Shepherd and Poodle mixes, were the first to find us. They were sisters—nearly identical, except Clip's right ear was clipped, hence the name—and got along with everyone.

Dots peered down at them curiously as they craned their necks to sniff at him. Since he didn't look afraid, I slowly lowered him onto the ground, and he gave the two dogs a cautious look before sniffing at them. Clip leaned down and licked Dots's face, and... they were friends.

Dust and Wooly, my two bunnies, kept their distance. They were the shyest of the bunch, and it would take them a while to warm up to Dots.

Taco, Nugget, and Roast spotted Dots as they came into the room from wherever they'd been, and they raced over, clucking madly about the 'intruder.'

While in most houses, dogs barked at the mailman, I had three hens to do that, and they were mighty good at chasing people off my lawns.

It was hilarious to watch too. I'd gotten—stolen might be the right term—them from a farm when I'd heard the owner planned to eat them because they'd stopped laying eggs.

It turned out all they'd needed was a less stressful environment, because I'd been making omelets from their eggs for months now.

My phone buzzed, and I kept an eye on my charges as I checked it, finding a message from Sofia, one of my employees. We wouldn't be opening for a few hours, but she was my only bartender, and I hoped she wasn't calling in sick.

Sofia: Hey, Nolan. A bunch of us are going camping next weekend. Would you like to come? It'll be lowkey. Hiking, bonfire, stuff like that.

It wasn't the first time Sofia had invited me somewhere, but like every other time, I politely declined the invite.

I enjoyed hiking, but I spent a lot of time with Sofia at work, and it was easier to keep my distance there because we were occupied.

But spending time together outside of work would involve talking.

Talking meant getting to know each other, and that led to closeness, which led to care, which led to love, which inevitably led to loss, and then heartbreak.

I was old. Hell, I was ancient. And at first, I'd been fascinated by people. What dragon wouldn't be? I'd befriended many, and then lost them all because no one lived as long as a dragon.

I'd lost every person I'd ever loved, whether as a friend, a child, or a lover, and I was tired. I was tired of the cost, of the grief and pain.

My fur children were all the companionship I needed, because losing them didn't hurt anywhere as bad, and it was all I could handle anymore.