Page 20 of The Ashpaw: Part One

Tension she didn’t know she was carrying began to leave her muscles, and she let out a deep, relieved exhale.

“Oh, thank goodness, I was feeling almost nauseous about doing this on my own.”

He laughed, the sound warm and easy. “The wolfkin aren’t that cruel. It makes everyone’s lives easier if you know what you’re doing. Come, I’ll show you how to set everything up.”

She finished her breakfast and Hyde took her into the dining hall, which looked smaller now that it was empty, the echoes of music and laughter still ringing softly in the air.

The windows were narrow and tall, reaching towards a ceiling obscured in shadows where the sun and firelight could not reach, while the walls were adorned with colorful tapestries that had faded with time, their stories fraying at the edges.

Benches were brought down from the tops of tables, candles were lit, and pitchers of water and ale were filled.

Hyde spoke easily about his life as a human before he’d been marked and bound by the Alpha Norden.

“I worked with horses for a wealthy man outside of Figbrook,” he said, his smile wistful as he set the plates. Fern trailed behind him with cutlery. “I heard the wolfkin getting into the stables one full moon, and thought I might actually scare them off with an ax and torch.

He laughed to himself. “I suppose I should be grateful Alpha Norden’s wolf was amused by my foolish bravery instead of offended by it.”

Fern thought of her own night with Darion when he’d marked her. At the time, it had seemed like he was listening to what she was saying, and while the bite wasn’t prominent, it had been rather gentle. As though he wanted to make sure it didn’t hurt.

“How much of yourself do you retain when in your wolf form?”

Hyde stopped to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “You mean you haven’t shifted yet? I thought I heard Alpha Darion’s wolf marked you years ago.”

“I was a child when he marked me, and my parents kept me hidden so I would not be banished.”

He looked at her carefully, considering her story, and then shrugged, moving on to the next table. “It’s… strange, the first time it happens. Your wolf is not entirely you, in that he has his own opinions and desires, but does not think only like an animal, either. You still have some influence, much like you probably feel your wolf speaking to you now, encouraging you towards decisions your human side would not make.”

Fern’s wolf, as nascent as she was, had been making more of an appearance since Darion had bound her to the clan.

And, annoyingly, appeared to be somewhat smitten with the alpha, which was ridiculous for two reasons. One, because Fern wished she’d never met him, for it was his fault she was here in the first place. And two, because he was courting a mate far lovelier and nobler than her anyway.

“So when an alpha first marks you, who makes the decision—the beast or the man?”

Hyde grinned. “A little bit of both.”

They finished setting the hall up just as the wolfkin began to file in, their hair unkempt and clothes wrinkled. But otherwise they appeared no worse for wear after a long night of feasting, drinking, and other activities, their smiles bright and voices loud.

Fern found the work easy enough. She bustled between the kitchen and the tables, her arms laden with trays of bread, meat, fish, and eggs.

“New girl!” a man yelled, just as she grabbed some empty pitchers to refill. She wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand as she approached, the smile on his face one she knew well from years of skirting around handsy patrons.

“Aye, sir?” she asked.

The men around him held back their snickers, eyes crinkling above their mugs as they watched, pretending to drink.

She fought back the heat that crept into her cheeks, and ignored her wolf, preening at the attention.

We don’t need men to make us feel important, Fern chided the beast.

You haven’t been ignored for the past ten years, she snapped back. Allow me this.

“Alpha Darion found you in Freywood, did he not?”

“He did, sir.”

He nodded knowingly, his smirk growing wider. “I’ve never been. Tell me,” he said, picking up a link of venison and holding it low on his lap and between his hands. “Do they make the sausages as big as these over there?”

The men around him chuckled, and Fern’s blush burned all the way down her chest. But she still leaned down, her eyes darting quickly between the meat and his face. “Perhaps not. But big or small, once they’re on my plate, my knife cuts them all the same.”