Page 21 of The Fanged One

The shaman's mouth opened again. This time it stayed open. He looked at Linnea, then at Fenris, then back at Linnea, and his eyes went wide and very bright like a child given something wonderful to play with. He looked as if he was about to say something when four people came out of the crowd and moved in around them.

Fenris's wolf went up the back of his neck in a single rising line of warning. Two wolves, male and female. A light elf with black hair and an amused expression, and a woman holding his hand who was mostly human.

The big male wolf had a beard and long hair, the same color as Linnea's. The crowd parted to let him pass instinctively, and Linnea was already in his arms before Fenris had finished assessing him as a threat.

"Tor!" Linnea was laughing into the blond one's chest. "You're just in time. I think Von is going to swoon on me."

"It is good to see you in one piece, little sister." The blond one set her down carefully and looked at Fenris over the top of her head.

His eyes were a darker shade of gray-blue than Linnea's, and for a second, they gleamed with the alpha under the surface.

The wolf in Fenris stood up to its full height inside him and matched the alpha stare for stare, because he was the strongest alpha Fenris had felt on this rock apart from him. Worse, the wolf had grown up protecting the woman whose lip stain was still on Fenris's mouth.

"I swear to the fucking All Father," Von said, in a voice pitched for a fight, "that if my club gets burned down or broken again, I'm going to lose my entire shit."

"No one is going to hurt your club," Linnea said, without taking her eyes off Fenris and Tor. She elbowed Tor hard in the ribs and hissed something at him. The blond alpha's shoulders dropped half an inch. "But we do need to go somewhere quieter to talk, Von."

"Office," Von said, still bright-eyed and half-smiling at Fenris. "Up the stairs. Now. Both of you, alphas, keep your dicks in your pants, or I'll spray you with water like disobedient puppies."

Fenris's wolf, who had been holding the line, made a small, affronted sound.

Mine is in, Fenris thought, and risked looking at Linnea. Unfortunately.

12

Linnea always loved going upstairs at Ritual to escape the crowds and the noise when she needed a break.

The glass door swung shut behind Tor, and the club noise fell away in a single hush. The bass that had been pounding became a faint pulse, and the shouting and the singing were all gone, replaced by soft lighting and comfortable chairs.

The mezzanine was a carved line of black wood paneling, with three deep oxblood couches around a low table. A throne-shaped chair of leather and antlers stood at the head of it, which couldn't have been more Von if his name had been stitched into the seat. The wall behind the throne was carved with panels featuring Havi's wolves, Geri and Freki, and his ravens, Huginn and Muninn. Below the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, the dance floor moved like a silent shoal of bodies under shifting red and gold light.

Linnea let go of Fenris's hand because she had found herself automatically taking it when they went up the stairs, and she still didn't know what to make of their moment on the dance floor. His fingers slid through hers slowly, and a drag of warmth ran up her arm.

Behave, she told her horny brain. If Von hadn't intervened, she would have probably done something she would have regretted. Crushing on Fenris would be bad for her health in every possible way.

"Right. Quick introductions, because Fenris has heard all your names in the car, and the matching of name to face is overdue." She squared her shoulders. "Fenris, this is my brother Tor."

Tor nodded once, not enough to be friendly yet, only that he was going to be civil for the moment.

"This is Ciara, Tor's mate. The Wolf Slayer. She will probably try to cut your throat if you give her a reason, so watch yourself," Linnea teased.

"Don't tell him that. I'm joy incarnate," Ciara deadpanned, sitting down on one of the couches.

"Sure you are, sis. This is Prince Arne and his mate, Layla."

Arne stood beside Layla with his arm around her waist, holding her casually close just in case a fight broke out.

"You are Vili's son," Fenris stated, and he smiled a little. "You look like him, little cousin."

"I suppose it does make us cousins, though my father and I aren't close," Arne replied and seemed to relax a little more.

"Linnea tells me that the situation is…complicated."

"Ha! Understatement," Layla declared, letting Arne go and sitting down on the couch beside Ciara.

Linnea smiled. "Layla is an Ironwood, too, and don't let her cheekiness fool you because she's just as deadly as Ciara."

"She is also a princess and has a soft spot for hobbits," Layla added.