Chapter 73

Ava

I could feel the weight of every single pair of eyes in the tavern settling squarely on me, pinning me in place with their eager anticipation. A hush had fallen over the once-raucous crowd, the only sounds the faint strumming of the musician’s guitar and the crackle of the fireplace.

Swallowing hard past the lump that had formed in my throat, I opened my mouth to protest, to wave off the request. “I... I really can’t sing,” I said.

“Nonsense!” Chris’s voice cut across mine, that roguish grin of his stretching across his features as he shot me a pointed look. “Ava, you’ve always had such a beautiful voice.”

I felt my cheeks flushing hotly, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance at Chris for putting me so firmly on the spot. Leveling him with my most withering glare, I struggled to find the words to respond.

But the musician beat me to it, his soft brown eyes going wide and imploring as he strummed a few hopeful chords.

“Please, Luna?” he asked. “Just one verse?”

I pursed my lips, determined to stand my ground this time and firmly shut down the entire idea. But then I made the mistake of glancing back towards Chris.

His expression was one of such open, unrestrained delight and mischief, that giddy sparkle in his eyes so reminiscent of the little boy I had once known.

Something twisted in my chest at the sight of him, and before I could stop myself, I arched an eyebrow at him and let out an exhale.

“Alright, alright,” I said. “But I need another drink first.”

Chris grinned and swiftly waved down the server.

“Another round for everyone, on me!” he called out, moving his finger in a circle to indicate the entire pub. “The Acting Luna needs to loosen up a bit before gracing us with that lovely voice of hers.”

The tavern went up in cheers as the servers began scurrying around with fresh glasses of beer. I took the one that was offered to me, and shot Chris a glare over the rim of my glass. “You’re impossible, you know that?” I teased.

“I’ve been called worse,” Chris chuckled, lifting his own mug in a mock toast before taking a long sip.

Shaking my head in bemusement, I raised the glass to my lips and downed several greedy gulps, the warm liquid slowly uncurling the knot of tension in my stomach. A bit of liquid courage, as the humans would say.

Once I had sufficiently steeled my nerves, I caught the musician’s eye and gave him a slight nod.

Rising to his feet, he strode back toward the raised platform serving as a stage, strumming out the opening notes in anticipation as Chris extended his hand towards me.

I eyed it for a moment, my gaze flickering between his palm and the eager gleam dancing in his eyes. Then, feeling somewhat bolstered by the alcohol working its way through my veins, I allowed him to guide me up onto the table itself with a smirk.

A hush fell over the surrounding crowd, their excited murmurs and hushed whispers buzzing through the air as I steadied myself on top of the table. Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, I focused solely on the sound of the guitar strings, letting everything else fall away.

Then, I opened my mouth and began to sing.

It was just a simple drinking song—something that I knew would urge the others in the tavern to join in, hopefully. And it seemed to work, because within a few moments, other voices were joining mine. Soon, the tavern was a chorus of all kinds of voices, high and low and in between.

From where I stood on the table, I could see Chris beaming up at me. My cheeks, already flushed red from both the alcohol and the singing, deepened even more when I saw him. He wasn’t singing, not yet, but he was swaying back and forth to the tune as I continued to sing and stamp one foot on the table.

“Sing!” I shouted to him over the din, placing my hands on my hips and shooting him a mischievous look. “You wanted me to sing, and now it’s your turn!”

The tips of Chris’s ears turned red, but he downed the last of his beer and slammed the mug down on the table. Before I could even react, he had thrown his arms around my legs and lifted me off of the table.

I felt a giddy shriek escape my lips as he carried me toward the center of the tavern, where the guitarist was still strumming and the crowd had begun to dance. He spun me in a dizzying whirlwind, causing more shrieks to slip out, before he set me back down and looped his arm around my waist.

“Sing,” I commanded again, breathless from laughter as he pulled my body flush against his. He smelled sweetly of beer and sweat, and was close enough to kiss me. But I pressed my hands into his chest and shot him a warning glare.

Finally, he did as I told him to; he began to sing, the rich baritone of his voice joining in with the others.

And then we began to dance. Our voices soon became lost to laughter as we spun in circles on the dancefloor. Flushed and giddy, my cheeks ached from the force of my smile, tears of laughter stinging my eyes and blurring the sea of people into an indistinct haze.

When the final note of the song finally rang out, resonating through the cramped tavern, the roar of approval that erupted was utterly deafening. The patrons raised their mugs, ale sloshing as they clinked them together. Chris threw one arm around my shoulders and yanked me close, and I laughed, raising my own mug along with him.

As my laughter faded away, we began making our way back to our table, Chris’s arm still wrapped around me. “That was something,” he breathed, taking another swig of his drink.

I couldn’t help but snort. “I’ll say.” I paused, pushing back a lock of sweat-streaked hair out of my eyes. “Maybe we should plan on staying the night, after all this drinking…”

Chris glanced over at me, and a look of elation flickered through his eyes. I couldn’t help it, either; I, too, was thoroughly excited at the prospect of having one night together here. “Just promise we’ll leave first thing in the morning,” I murmured.

Chris smirked. “You’re assuming we’ll even sleep.”

I felt my cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red at the notion. But just then, a flicker of motion towards the back of the tavern caught my eye over Chris’s shoulder.

A cluster of three hooded figures sat huddled around one lone table, entirely motionless and unsmiling amidst the excitement. My smile instantly faltered, and I felt my wolf bristle inside of me for reasons I couldn’t quite comprehend.

Then, suddenly, one of the hooded strangers rose violently to his feet. His chair scraped backwards against the wood so loudly it made me flinch, but the sounds of his heavy boots slamming on the floorboards as he stormed over to us were even worse.

Before Chris or I could even react, he was stopping in front of us, his face shadowed by his hood. He towered over both of us, several inches taller than even Chris, who was easily six-foot-two on his own.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” the man growled in a deep voice that sent a shiver down my spine.

The entire tavern went utterly silent.