Chapter 29
TWENTY NINE
Gryff
I stare at my phone, a chill creeping down my spine as I read the caller ID over and over. I hardly notice when Honey’s hand slips from mine and she ducks into the tent behind the harpy.
Why is Colonel Hale calling me, today of all days, when I had almost made up my mind to let myself be happy? I thought I told her never to contact me again.
Her call can only be about one thing. The hearing. The one I told them I wasn’t interested in being a part of.
I decline the call and stuff my phone back into my pocket, suddenly feeling anxious about what could be keeping Honey.
I shouldn’t have left her alone. Not after she almost caused a stampede at the juice stall when people realized they could drink juice her toes had actually touched.
It was harmless and worth the worry that it might turn ugly to see the bright smile on her face when she was able to compete.
To do something so lighthearted and carefree for once. She deserves that.
She deserves to feel young and free and beautiful in a way that doesn’t compromise her or make her purely into an object for others’ consumption.
My phone buzzes again, and I growl. It’s then I register that Honey’s scent is tinged with worry, an acrid scent like burning toast that taints her sweetness and makes the hackles rise on the back of my neck.
The band on the stage plays and the speakers are turned up so loud the music pounds in my ears, and I don’t notice the clumsy orc until he bowls right into me, spilling his beer down my arm.
“Whoa, sorry, buddy.”
I let out a roar that startles a nearby child, who buries her face into her mother’s skirts.
My bones crack, and my shirt rips angrily as my body transforms into beast form before I can stop the change.
My claws lengthen. My fur is sticky with spilled beer, and the bitter scent of it rises to make my mouth water.
I would like nothing more than to drown the memories in a drink right now.
To blur out the faces of the dead and dull my senses.
The music is so loud I hunch forward, ears pressed back against my skull. It’s too loud. Too crowded. And Honey is too far out of my reach for sanity. I need to pull her soft body against mine, to bury my snout in her hair.
My phone rings again, and I pluck the goddam thing from my ruined jeans and crush it in my paw with a howl of frustration, dropping the ruined object to the ground.
I don’t see Honey leave the tent, but I feel her small, soft hand as it glides up my arm and over my shoulder. The world is jagged shapes and overwhelming sounds until she touches my face and I can breathe again.
“Shhh. It’s me. We’re safe. Everyone is safe.”
My heart is still pounding against my sternum like it’s trying to escape my chest, but I try to focus on her words. Safe.
Her fingertips stroke along my jaw, and in their wake the muscles relax. “Everything is fine. I’m sorry I went inside, but I’m fine.”
The music cuts out suddenly, and the little cow shifter girl I scared lets out a long, mournful wail which sounds loud in the sudden silence.
“Let’s go, Gryff. Let’s go back to the truck.” Honey takes her hand from my face, but I’m not ready for her to let me go yet. I snatch her hand and dip my head to bring it back to my cheek.
There’s a shout from somewhere to my right. “That’s him! There! That wolf is feral!”
Another voice shouts, “Get her away from him!”
I breathe in deep, concentrating on the scent of summer rain and rose petals on Honey’s skin. I can’t lose control again. Not with her standing right here. I can do this.
I press my eyes closed for a moment until I can will my body smaller, shrink my muzzle back into a human-shaped face, and retract my sharp claws.
Sheriff Hadlow, a heavy-set troll with a fist the size of my face, strides through the parting crowd, pushing his dark glasses up onto his forehead to regard me with a concerned gaze. “Everything OK here, folks?”
I’m about to speak when Honey steps in front of me, and the anger bristling from her small body catches me off guard. “He’s not feral. How dare you!”
Her outrage is palpable. On another day I might chuckle to myself because angry Honey is adorable. She’s practically vibrating she’s so mad. But the fact that she feels the need to defend me only proves what I’ve known all along—I should never have let her get tangled up with me.
I place my hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s fine. The sheriff here is just doing his job.”
The sheriff gives me a nod of appreciation, but before he can speak, the guy who shouted pushes his way through the crowd, and I recognize the minotaur from the hardware store as he folds his arms across his chest. “He doesn’t belong in public. He’s a danger to everyone here.”
The sheriff lifts a brow. “I see no reason to jump to that conclusion.”
The mother of the little girl shifts her daughter in her arms. “He scared my calf.”
“Attacked me on the street the other day,” says a shifter I barely recognize.
In front of me, Honey’s anger bursts its seams, and her small body quivers. It’s only when she speaks again that I realize she’s crying. “You’ve got him all wrong!” The sob in her voice rips something open inside of me.
What have I done? I thought I felt bad yesterday when I bowled her over and she could have hurt herself.
This is a hundred times worse. This hurt can’t be mended with a Band-Aid and a kiss on the forehead.
And no matter how much I try to be a better wolf, if she’s with me, she has a lifetime of this hurt ahead.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I let myself believe this could work?
“Come on, Honey, let’s just go.” I pull her around to face me, and this time it’s me cupping her face, looking into her eyes to will her back to me.
She sniffs and dashes a tear from her pink cheek. “If that’s what you want.”
The bovine shifter glares at us. “He shouldn’t just be allowed to walk out of here!”
Sheriff Hadlow snorts. “It’s not illegal to shift.
If you wish to pursue a legal complaint, then you know where my office is.
Otherwise I think letting him leave is a great move.
” He meets the stares of everyone around, immovable as the stone he’s made from, until one by one, they all back down and step aside.
In the uncomfortable hush, I take Honey’s hand and lead her through the crowd, doggedly ignoring the muttered comments as we pass.
We find Sonia at the back of the crowd, standing beside Mabel Brown, the owl shifter from Mosswood Market.
Mabel straightens from where she’s been whispering in Sonia’s ear, lifting her head and staring straight at me and Honey.
I realize a little too late that I’ve still got Honey’s hand held fast in mine.
Well shit. Add that to the list of fuck ups and uncomfortable conversations I’ve gotta have, I guess.
“Gryff, did something happen?” Sonia casts Mabel a worried look and hurries over.
“Get in the truck, Sonia.”
She looks over my shoulder, presumably to where the rest of the goddamn town is watching me like some kind of science experiment.
Fuck.
I keep marching toward the back of the church, Honey’s hand clutched in mine. Sonia falls in behind us, and thankfully she doesn’t ask any more questions until the last door thunks closed behind us, sealing us into the cabin of my truck.
There’s a tense silence as I fit the keys into the ignition.
Honey is between me and Sonia. When Sonia turns to me, I catch Honey direct a silent head shake at her mother in my peripheral vision.
Sonia sits back without speaking.
I drive the entire way home with nothing but the chug of my old engine and the whirr of the gears as a soundtrack. Honey and Sonia are completely silent, and I don’t know where to begin breaking the tension.
I don’t know what Mabel said to Sonia, but it can’t have put me in a good light. It wouldn’t matter anyway after the way the town just turned on me. I’d only be a little surprised if an angry mob showed up at my place with pitchforks to drive me out of Mosswood.
Luckily there won’t be any need for that. I know what I have to do.
I park the truck in the carport and kill the engine. Then I open the door with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to find Bill real quick. There’s something I need to talk with him about.”
I don’t dare look back at Honey. If I look at her sad blue eyes and her pretty face my resolve might crack, but I’ve got a duty to protect her. Even if that means protecting her from me.