Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Adira
The door opens, and I quickly turn off my phone screen. The Irish one, Gael, and the curly blonde, Eli, come in. Gael is holding a plate.
“Oh shit,” Eli says, eying my—probably sweaty—face. “Here, let me turn the AC on.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, now watching Gael as he cautiously approaches me.
He offers me the plate and puts the juice bottle on the table.
I notice it’s unopened and I wonder if he did that so I wouldn’t be worried about being drugged.
When I look at the plate, it’s an uncut apple and a snack pack of oatmeal energy bites.
Yup, he definitely wants me to feel alright about eating and drinking. That’s… kind of him.
He tugs the chair close to me and sits, leaning back and putting an ankle on his other knee.
“So,” he starts, but pauses as I turn and watch Eli, who is on the other side of the bed.
Eli shrugs apologetically as he lifts a pillow and tosses some bundled up clothes in. “Shirts. To help you get used to our smell.”
My eyes widen, and my gaze drops to the plate in my lap. Scents. Right. Werewolves. Or… wolf shifters.
I know enough about the supernatural to know that there is some argument about the terminology.
Wolf shifters were learned to exist right after the Hells fell about twenty years ago, sending all the demons of the world’s religions to live on Earth.
Other shifters, foxes, rabbits, ravens, all kinds, didn’t show themselves for another decade.
Gael clears his throat and starts again, “So, what do you do?”
My head swivels. “Do?”
He shrugs, “For work.”
“I own a spell shop with my sister,” I say flatly. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Eli climbs onto the far side of the bed and sits cross-legged. “Listen, Adira,” he says, a serious expression on his face, “You need to get real comfortable with us, real fast.”
“Why’s that, exactly?” I ask archly as I eye his tats. He has sleeves.
He’s tasty.
Dammit, get it together.
Gael, again, clears his throat. Nervous habit?
“What do you know of heats?” he asks quietly.
“I know only shifters have them. Which I’m not.”
I realize I sound pouty. I furrow my eyebrows.
Gael leans towards me. “Perhaps let’s work under the assumption that that is not strictly true, and you are indeed about to have a heat. Because arguing about it will not help prepare you.”
I frown. “Tell me what the fuck is going on,” I demand, increasingly frustrated.
When tears sting my eyes, it does not improve my shitty mood. I blink furiously.
What the fuck. Maybe there is something wrong with me.
“Well, you may not know this, but Elmway is home to a private college. It’s been a known—albeit underground—werewolf college for decades.
Within the last ten years or so, the town itself has become a haven.
Weres and shifters live in the surrounding area at a higher concentration than anywhere in the U.S. ”
“What does this have to do with me?”
Eli lets out a rumble. “Don’t interrupt, omega. He’s getting there.”
I shoot a glare at him and turn my stink eye to Gael who, the utter prick, has the tiniest smirk on his handsome face.
He continues without further comment. “Within the last year, we have discovered that some witches, when in close contact with alphas, can present as an omega. We’ve had three witch-omegas match with packs in that time.”
I gape at him, again shocked. “Why isn’t this national news? This… this could indicate that humans and demons are descended from the same ancestors…”
“Yes,” Gael says dryly, “well, that is a question for Mads.”
I refuse to let myself smile at the cute nickname.
Eli picks up the conversation, “Back to the original question, about heats. I think Fenrir said it’s about breeding, but that’s not really the important part nowadays.”
I look at him, his pretty blue eyes worried. I wait for him to continue.
He nods, seemingly pleased, and that makes my stomach flutter.