The giant teddy-bear of a man had a grin permanently plastered to his wide face. He stood inches over most of the other patrons and had feet the size of skateboards. His shoulders were nearly too broad to fit through most doorways. A mailman’s uniform stretched over his generous belly, while a blue cap hid his short brown hair. They’d been friends since early school and Billy knew that Garret was the sort to remain in Molodoy his entire life, perfectly content with his lot.
“Have you seen my sister?” Billy asked, turning around to search the crowd.
He needed to find her as soon as possible and warn her to stay away from Stasia Pavlosky. When they were kids, Ashley would follow her around like a puppy. She was only a year younger than the princess, but for some reason she’d lapped up every word Stasia had uttered as if it were gospel. He didn’t trust her judgment on this matter or her sense to stay away from someone who would no sooner make you think you’re her closest friend, then drop you the moment your usefulness expired.
“Yeah, she’s over there,” Garret said, turning to point at the dart boards. If at all possible, his smile grew even brighter. “And if I may say so, your sister is looking very pretty tonight.”
Billy scowled at his friend again and followed the direction of his finger. The moment he saw his sister, and the company she kept, he shot straight to his feet. Adrenaline coursed through his body and he gripped the bar counter to steady himself.
“Hey, dude, check yourself.” Garret eyed his friend warily. “You’re losing control.”
Billy glanced down at his hand. His nails had begun to transform into a set of wicked claws and thick tufts of hair had sprouted on the back of his hand.
“I am in control,” he hissed, rubbing his hands together. The claws disappeared, but the pounding in his head didn’t go away. It wouldn’t go away — not until she did.
He began to weave through the crowd, all the while glaring at the woman standing next to his sister. She hardly resembled the young girl of seventeen he remembered from his dreams. As much as he begrudged the idea, time had been kind to the werewolf princess.
Her complexion was smooth, her cheekbones more defined, and her generous lips reminded him of the Corvette Rally Red paint job he’d been admiring at a car show in Murdo last week. Where she’d been rail-straight before, nature had granted her the softest feminine curves in all the right places.
Despite his disdain for her very presence in his hometown, his body reacted to the sight of her dancing in a flimsy sky-blue dress, her hands held high in abandon and a smile lighting up her face. Heat began to build deep in his gut and his hands shook. The treason of his own body only made him scowl harder.
“I need to talk to you.” He grabbed his sister by the shoulder and pulled her toward a dark booth.
“Hello to you, too, Billy,” she slurred happily.
Great, she was already drunk and it wasn’t even past nine. This was starting to become a trend with her.
“What are you doing with Anastasia Pavlosky?” He let go of her shoulder and glared at her, waiting for an answer.
“She just showed up,” Ashley said, her eyes narrowing as she swayed in place. “We’re catching up on old times. I’ve missed her so much.”
“You don’t miss her.” He raked a hand through his hair and huffed. “And she didn’t care a wink for you.”
Or him. But that was another matter.
“That’s not true.” She pointed a finger at his chest and poked him roughly. “And just because you’re my brother, doesn’t mean you get to order me around. You’re not my alpha. You’re not anyone’s alpha.”
He winced and took a step back. Immediately, sober recognition flickered in her eyes and her face fell.
“I’m so sorry, Billy, I didn’t mean...”
“No, you’re right.” He put his hands up and swallowed hard. “I have no right to tell you what to do. Just be careful. You know what happened last time she was here.”
Ashley studied him for a second, pressing a fingertip to her lips. “Yes. She broke your heart.”
A huff escaped his lips, but he couldn’t find the words to argue back. Instead, he looked up to see a pair of honey-brown eyes gazing into his. Stasia was standing next to the jukebox, a drink in her hand. She studied him carefully, lines appearing on her forehead.
He resisted the urge to snarl at her and instead marched himself back to the other side of the bar, as far away from the princess and her influence as possible. Sinking back onto his bar stool, he crossed his arms tightly across his chest and growled.
“You look like a little boy that’s had his favorite toy snatched away,” Garret said next to him with a hearty laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were sent away with your tail between your legs.”
“That’s not what happened.” Billy stared across the room, unable to take his eyes off the image of his sister and Stasia bouncing up and down to the tune of some old country song. A sour feeling filled his mouth. “It’s not like I can control her. Or any woman, for that matter.”
Garret chuckled and stared dreamily at Ashley. “No, you can’t. Isn’t it great?”
He huffed again and bit the inside of his cheek. A memory from childhood came to mind. It had been a hot summer’s day, the kind that made the pavement melt and grannies sit on their front porches desperately fanning themselves with yesterday’s junk mail. He’d taken Stasia to the swimming hole that day. He could still recall how pretty she had looked in her cutoff denim shorts and yellow bikini top.
It was meant to be a romantic outing — his chance to finally confess his feelings for the girl he’d fallen for over that long month she’d spent in Molodoy. But his little sister, Ashley, had snuck along for the trip, popping up from the brambles just moments before he was about to spill his heart. He could remember Stasia laughing so hard she snorted, and then taking his sister by the hand to jump into the swimming hole together.
The memory would’ve been a sweet one, had Stasia not turned around days later and stomped on his heart. Now, it was one twinged with pain.
“Don’t look now, but the Wilson brothers just showed up.” Garret elbowed him painfully in the ribs. “And they’re headed your way.”
Billy looked up to see Reggie and Colt Wilson glaring at him. The two werewolves belonged to the local Fang pack and possessed some minor standing, but had never been alpha material. Several years older than him, they’d managed to miss each other in school, but ever since Billy moved back to town it seemed they’d made it their life mission to make him miserable.
He sighed and stood as they approached. Although about six feet tall and visibly strong, there was nothing much that distinguished the brothers. They had short cropped brown hair and eyes the color of clay, just a little too close together. Their noses stuck out prominently from their faces and made a great punching target.
“Evening, boys.” He tipped his head and crossed his flexed arms. “How can I help you?”
“This bar is for Fang members only,” Reggie growled, rubbing a hand over the dark stubble on his chin.
“And you’re not welcome,” Colt added. He pushed a toothpick around his mouth and grinned.
They mimicked his stance with a display of their own muscles, flexing in their flannel shirts.
Billy sighed and dropped his arms, turning back toward the bar. “Let’s not do this tonight, okay? I’m not in the mood.”
Colt grabbed his shoulder and squeezed hard. “I don’t care what mood you’re in. You’re not welcome.”
He growled and could feel his claws beginning to appear again. “I’d suggest you remove your hand, Colt, if you want to keep it.”
Reggie laughed in his ear. “Did you hear that, brother? I believe he just threatened you.”
“Billy Finley threaten a member of the Fang pack?” Colt barked a laugh. “Seems this fellow needs a little lesson. Suppose we take him outside and teach him one?”
Billy had just about had enough. His entire body t
ensed in preparation for the fight, his muscles twitching. It was time he showed the Wilson boys who was boss after all. There was a reason he’d been chosen to take the alpha position in America and they hadn’t. He was about to teach them a lesson in manners and his body ached for the release of a fight.
“Is there a problem here?”
The close proximity of Stasia’s voice snapped him out of the change just as fast as he’d gone into it. He whipped around to see her standing behind him, inches from Colt’s face.
“Maybe there is,” Reggie said with a sneer. “But it’s none of your business. Get out of the way.”
“Actually, it is my business.” She placed her hands on her hips and scowled. “As Crown Werewolf Princess of Monstrana, any werewolf on werewolf violence is under my purview.”
The Wilson brothers gaped at her, Colt’s toothpick falling from his mouth. Billy’s face flushed red as he watched.
“She can’t be serious,” Reggie said, looking around him for help. “She’s not really the princess.”
“Oh, yes, she is.” Ashley draped herself over Stasia’s shoulder and grinned. “My friend, Princess Stasia. I see you already met Reggie and Colt Wilson.” She laughed and leaned closer to Stasia’s ear, whispering in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “They’ve always been jealous of Billy.”
“Yes, we’ve met. And they were just leaving to play a game of pool,” Stasia said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
The brothers scowled and glanced begrudgingly at Billy over her shoulder. With a noise that resembled a hiss, they shuffled away toward the pool tables and found friends waiting for them. Stasia’s smile grew wide and she clapped her hands in victory.
“Well, that was a close call,” she said, turning to Billy, who still sat dumbstruck on the bar stool. “You’re welcome.”
He snapped his mouth closed and curled his fingers into tight fists. “I didn’t need your help.”
“Of course you did.” Her eyebrows raised in disbelief as she chuckled. “If I’m not mistaken, they were about to take you to the doghouse.”
He could feel the blood rising to his cheeks again. Rage made his voice shake. “I didn’t need your help. Not now. Not ever.”
If he didn’t leave soon, he was going to lose it. And the last thing he needed was to go full wolf in a crowded bar of the Fang pack.
He turned to Garret and said in a deadpan voice, “Rain check on that pool game, buddy.”
Garret nodded silently, concern filling his eyes.
Sliding off the stool, Billy brushed past Stasia. Their shoulders touched, sending a thrill through his body. Still, he shoved on, past his waiting truck and the streets of downtown. He didn’t stop moving until he’d run miles into the thick forest, his paws thudding on the hard ground and his wolf instincts washing away the embarrassment of the werewolf princess coming to his rescue.
Chapter Five
Stasia stood outside Billy Finley’s garage and hopped nervously from foot to foot. It was already late in the evening, but a light shone around the rusted edges of the garage doors. She’d bet anything that Billy was still working on that wreck of a pickup. He couldn’t help himself.
Even at seventeen, the boy had exhibited an obsession with cars. It was all he’d ever wanted to do. She used to spend hours lying next to him in the grass behind his parents’ house, listening to him dream up the cars he would fix one day. She would tell him her own dreams of working in entertainment. He’d never pry into why she didn’t want to return home or her real identity. She had appreciated that about him.
Those days had been rough for Stasia. The ancient biting ritual, which all werewolves’ offspring must face at the age of eighteen to join the pack, was just around the corner. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be a werewolf yet. Plus, with all the attention at home focused on her baby twin siblings, she’d found it easier to run away from the castle and hide from her parents than face the pressures and disappointments of royal life.
For a short moment in time with Billy, she was just a girl. Not a princess. Not a responsible big sister. Just Stasia. Sometimes, she still longed for those sweet summer days.
She was knocked out of her trek down memory lane by a black cloud of exhaust that surrounded her. Hacking up half her lung, she lunged out of the way of a tow truck and the rust bucket it hauled. It missed her by only inches and reversed up onto the curb, sitting at an awkward angle.
“I thought you said you could handle this thing,” she yelled through gritted teeth.
Maxim’s guilty grin appeared in the driver’s side mirror. “Oops, guess it’s not quite like driving the gardener’s work truck.”
“Guess not,” she muttered.
Attached to the back of that tow truck was the very thing she hoped to lure Billy into giving her a chance. If yesterday’s interactions had been any indication, he wasn’t exactly in the giving mood. Already, Mr. Treckle had called her five times today, demanding an update. She’d managed to push him off for a bit, but it wouldn’t be long before he suspected something was off. She needed results. She needed Billy.
And they needed to put their past behind them.
Maxim managed to successfully back the truck into the driveway and set about unhooking the surprise Stasia had ordered in from the other side of the island that morning. It was times like this when she was grateful for her royal status. She doubted very much whether even Myra had the resources to order something so quickly. Maybe it was playing dirty, but Stasia didn’t care. She needed this story.
“All done,” Maxim said, pushing his flop of blond hair out of his face. “Can I go back to the arcade now? They’re having a tournament tonight on the vintage machines. I’m going to crush Ms. Pac-Man. They won’t see it coming.”
It hadn’t taken him long to discover the local hangout for all the teenaged werewolves. The arcade and bowling alley was housed in a shabby building just half a block down from the bar. Stasia waved him on and he ran toward the truck with a grin plastered on his face, wasting no time in pulling away.
“All right, girl.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “It’s now, or never.”
With bold steps, she strode toward the garage. The muffled clang of metal on metal sounded when she got closer. As she suspected, a shadow danced in the lamplight from within, indicating its owner was hard at work. She raised her fist and knocked three time on the metal garage door. The clanging immediately stopped.
“Madge, I already told you I wasn’t interested in taking Mary to the summer street dance. That’s final.”
Stasia cocked her head at Billy’s words. Someone had been trying to set him up on a date. Interesting. Perhaps, he wasn’t such a lost cause after all.
The clanging started back up and she knocked again.
“Madge, I’m not interested.”
Heavy footsteps came toward her and the garage door shot open before she could step back. A second later, she found herself standing in front of Billy, their faces only inches apart. He blinked in surprise, his gaze trailing down to her tight red blouse and back up again.
“What do you want?” His tone was gruff, but doubt flickered in his eyes.
“You,” she blurted out.
He stepped back, surprise washing over his face. The door slipped out of his hands and he had to catch it before it fell between them again.
“What I meant to say is that I want to talk to you,” Stasia rushed on, her cheeks burning.
His eyes narrowed to slits. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
She huffed and placed her hands on her hips. Bossy and brisk were not her thing, but if that’s what it took to get a stubborn werewolf to listen, so be it.
“Don’t you think you owe me?” she demanded, shaking her head. “After what you put me through all those years ago?”
“Put you through?” He stepped toward her, the garage door crashing shut behind him. Anger burned in his eyes. “How about what you put me through? As far as I�
�m concerned, you owe me.”
“You? What are you...?”
She grimaced and threw her hands up in the air. One minute in, and they were already fighting. She wouldn’t get anywhere with him if they continued this way.
Taking another steadying breath, she smiled up at him and tilted her head to one side. “Speaking of the past, I have something I know you’re going to like.”
She stepped aside and waved her hand at the heap of a car sitting behind her. His gaze moved in that direction and Stasia got the satisfaction of watching the blood drain from his face. His jaw fell open and his eyes grew to the size of hubcaps.
“Is this a...?” He pressed forward to get a better look.
“A 1970 SS454 Chevy Chevelle,” she offered, biting her bottom lip.
“And does it...?”
“Include the original LS6 engine?” She grinned. “You bet ya.”
He ran his fingertips softly over the rusted hood and reverently made a circle toward the trunk. Pausing to look inside at the rough black leather interior, he completed his round and stood staring at the muscle car.
“I’ve always wanted to get my hands on one of these.”
“I know.” She stepped next to him and couldn’t help but bounce on the balls of her feet. “I remembered.”
He turned his head to look at her. She saw distrust and maybe even a hint of pain in his eyes. But there was something else. A resignation, as if he were folding in a high-stakes round of poker.
“Why are you here, Stasia?” The question sounded mournful coming from his lips. “What do you want?”
“I want you to fix up this car for me.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Whatever the cost, send me the invoice. I want this baby to shine.”
“Is that all?” He pressed his lips together. “I’m sure there are a hundred mechanics much closer to New Hart and the castle who would do just as good of a job. Tell me why you really chose me and make it the truth.”
She hesitated, remembering again why she and Billy had become such fast friends. He’d always had the uncanny ability to see right through her. To know when she was holding back and hiding the truth. She’d never been able to pull one over his eyes. It had been their friendship’s eventual downfall.
Bite the Big Heartache: Werewolf Shifter Romance (A Monstrana Paranormal Romance Book 2) Page 3
