The Luna's Bodyguard [a mature werewolf romance]

Ch 1: Visiting Twatts

OPHELIA

Woodsmoke burned in my eyes and throat as I scrambled from the collapsing castle of Cairn Liath, towing an ashen toddler through the flurrying embers. Tears ran tracks in the soot on her cheeks, but I didn't dare to slow down.

They were coming.

We'd barely managed to escape the wooden beam that cut my step-mother's screams short. Now wolves were giving chase, baying for our blood...

"Are you deaf, girl? I said it's burning!"

The manager's harsh voice lashed through flashback, and it fell apart like a body cut in half — clean down the middle. I grimaced at the smoke rising off the skillet, edging the spatula under the goopy cheese spilling from the sandwich perched in the centre.

He was right. It was black as charcoal on the bottom, even though the bread was soggy and pale on top. The heat was too high.

"We can't serve that," Graham growled, slamming down the pint glass he was polishing behind the counter. The grey hair on his beefy forearms rippled as he crossed them over his chest. "Honestly, Fell, that's the third time this week. What's going on with you?"

"Sorry, sir," I mumbled, doing my best to look contrite — all while imagining how good it would feel to punch him in the mouth. "It won't happen again."

"Chuck it in the compost," Graham muttered, sticking a thumb toward the kitchen. "I'll put a new one on for the customer."

Customer was a strong word for the leech sitting at the bar, nursing a frothy ale with his boots up on the counter. I only knew three things for sure about Stewart: he was Graham's deadbeat brother, he liked to bet on horses over the phone, and he phished coins from the tip jar when he thought no-one was looking.

My tips. I was the only reason you could see the woodgrain of the countertop. When I arrived, Twatt's — a name that paid more homage to the owners than it did the town up the road — was in the process of digging itself an early grave, already half-buried under years of accumulated dust.

I headed out back, detouring to the break room. A few grilled cheeses didn't make up for Stewart's wage theft, but it was a good start, and every penny we pinched was another night with a roof over our heads.

Aurora was huddled at the corner table, frowning fiercely at her open textbook. The spidery calculations made my head spin, so I avoided looking at them as I waved a hand in front of her face.

"Oh," she said, blinking and rubbing at her eyes. They were a shade lighter than her hair, a honeyed brown that you could melt into. "Is it time to go?"

I grimaced. "I wish. I'm only halfway through my shift. But I made you some lunch," I said, offering her the plate. "I'd get you some stew as well, but they've already reheated it twice."

My little sister screwed up her face, freckles bunching on the bridge of her nose. "Nasty."

"Yeah, not ideal." I set the plate down on the table. "What are you reading?"

She sighed, head falling into her hands. "The same line over and over, apparently."

I grimaced. "Biology?"

"Advanced Chemistry, actually," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I need it to become a veterinarian, remember?"

In truth, I'd already forgotten what subjects she'd enrolled in via distance education. She was on some kind of scholarship program and churned through so many books a month it was a wonder she wasn't already a qualified doctor.