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“Really?” I say, wanting to give him a big hug, I’m so relieved and happy.

He just grunts and continues carrying the empty barrels around the building.

“Alright,” I say, excited to go in for the first time in my life. “Let’s go get you fed.”

Every eye in the joint turns to us as we walk in. We make quite the pair. The assistant executioner and a rare and handsome gargoyle. The whole town will be talking about this soon. I just hope I can get to my father before the word reaches his ears.

But people don’t stare for long. They all turn back to their meals as I look around for an empty table.

The tavern is wonderful inside.

Fireplaces are roaring and torches line the walls. Old wooden beams cross the high ceiling, over the mismatched tables full of happy customers. A pair of dwarves are arguing loudly over a card game near the largest fire. Three witches crowd around a little round table, their pointed hats hanging from the backs of their chairs while they share a bottle of purple wine. A minotaur takes up nearly an entire bench by himself, carefully sipping from a cup that looks ridiculously tiny in his enormous hand as two men explain something to him, their hands and arms waving with enthusiasm as they take turns talking.

“Excuse me, hun,” the waitress—a large human in her fifties—says as she moves around us holding at least eight huge ceramic mugs bubbling over with beer.

I watch her wind her way past a table of goblins to the booth of werewolves in the back. She places the mugs on the table and one starts howling in joy as they all grab them.

It smells incredible in here—buttery, spicy, and like fresh bread all mixed together. My mouth instantly waters.

“Over there,” I say, pointing to a dark corner. A pale vampire is getting up, drinking the last drop of his drink. He puts his collar up high, tosses some coins on the table, and leaves.

I grab Tharion’s arm and pull him over.

The vampire nods to me as we pass each other, and I hear a protective growl coming from behind me. I guess I’ll just have to get used to that.

This booth is perfect. I slide in and wince when I see the thick red liquid at the bottom of the glass left on the table. I move it aside, not wanting to think too hard about what’s in there.

The bench is large enough for Tharion and he slips in, looking ravishing in his new shirt. My heart skips a beat when we meet eyes. This is still all so unexpected.

Yet welcome.

I expected to work all day with my dad, not to fall in love with a sexy gargoyle. I guess you never know what to expect in a day.

Everyone is talking over everyone else. Glasses clink. Chairs scrape. Someone bursts out laughing near the kitchen while a little winged sprite zips between tables carrying a bowl twice the size of her head.

The human waitress comes over with a smile and we order two of those big mugs of beer.

Minutes later, I swallow hard when I see Rufus approaching with a leather apron wrapped around his waist and a sizzling plate in his hand.

Rumor is, he used to be an orc warrior, the fiercest in the land, but he retired and settled down here to open up the tavern. Everyone loves him. I just thought he always hated me.

I’m still a little unsure if those are the Dragonfire Poppers he promised, or if he’s going to beat me over the head with that hot plate.

“Welcome to The Silver Bell Tavern,” he says as he places the Dragonfire Poppers in the middle of the table. “Don’t be so shy, okay, Ravena?”

“I won’t,” I say as I eye those delicious-looking appetizers.

The big ogre with his scary scarred face and sharp features gives me a warm smile and a friendly wink before leaving.

“I’ve always wanted to try these,” I say, grabbing one. It’s a fried ball that’s smoking from the center.

“Is that too hot for you?” Tharion asks. I love how protective he is. Like he’s even concerned the appetizer will hurt me.

“One thing you have to know about me,” I say with a flirty look. “Is that I can handle heat.”

I take a deep bite and immediately panic. It’s like biting into a red-hot charcoal from the fire.

I spit it out onto the table as my mouth flames like an inferno.