WithHerCraving by Lorie O'Clare Page B

done it before—already he ached to have her awake.
    “He told me to tell you he won’t be gone all day,” Heather
was saying as she handed him a steaming cup of coffee. “Our house, or den, is
yours while your mate is healing. Feel free to watch TV or do whatever you
wish. I have to leave for work in a few minutes.” She spoke as she hurried
around the kitchen, pulling frozen food from a microwave. It had absolutely no
smell.
    Jarvis hid his surprise when she hummed in approval after
taking a bite. He wasn’t even sure what it was she ate. “Thank you,” he said,
being humble. “You and your mate are very gracious in allowing Katrin to mend
here.”
    “How is she doing?” Heather asked, gulping coffee and eating
whatever it was she was eating in a few gulps.
    “She’s still asleep.”
    Heather finished her breakfast and threw the cardboard plate
she’d eaten the food from into a trash can under the sink. She swallowed her
coffee, put the cup in the sink, then reached into a cabinet and took out
another cup that had a lid on it. She poured coffee into it until it was full
and put the lid on.
    “Good. I’m sure she needs her rest. Marc told me she broke
her leg. I feel so terrible. It’s all my fault.”
    “Katrin will be fine by tomorrow,” Jarvis said, knowing he
didn’t need to hide his scent from Heather. Nonetheless, he kept his
frustration over the human pushing Katrin into running hidden the best he
could.
    Heather shook her head. “It’s not fair that werewolves heal
so quickly and we have to lie and suffer in pain forever when we’re hurt.” She
smiled at Jarvis as she hurried out of the kitchen. “Oh, Marc told me to tell
you that your pack leader won’t come by until your mate is awake and coherent.”
    Jarvis followed her into the living room and to the front
door. He wasn’t looking forward to discussing his mating to Katrin until she
was awake and the two of them had discussed it privately first.
    “I have to go to work. Bye,” she called out and was out the
door, closing it behind her.
    Jarvis wasn’t comfortable hanging out in the McAllister den
by himself. He’d never spent much time watching TV. Being whelped in the
mountains and running through them most his life hadn’t offered the luxury of
cable or internet.
    After leaving a note for Katrin on the nightstand, Jarvis
left the McAllister den and walked along the highway into Prince George.
McAllister’s den was a good ten miles from Toubec’s ranch. It was an overcast
day and the temperatures were low, but enough humidity made the air thick and
Jarvis was sweaty by the time he’d reached town. He stopped in Howley’s for a
drink and to cool off before heading to Toubec’s to find Jaeger.
    “Give me two longnecks, Shackley,” a lunewulf male at
the bar said.
    Jarvis stood next to the two lunewulf males ordering
and made eye contact briefly, but long enough to smell their righteous stench
as the one closest tried looking down his nose at Jarvis. It was a futile
attempt since Jarvis stood several inches taller than the male.
    “Whatever is coldest,” Jarvis told the bartender and parked
his rear on the barstool.
    He paid for the longneck and tipped the bartender generously
before guzzling almost half of it. Cold perspiration dripped from the outside
of the bottle. He fought the urge to roll the bottle across his forehead. In
the mountains the temperatures never soared this high. He would need to get
accustomed to it though, if the plan forming in his head was carried out.
First, he needed to decide what to say to his littermate.
    “Did you hear about the Malta werewolf?” the lunewulf next to him said to the other male and bartender.
    “The howlings are there’s a female out at Toubec’s,” the
other lunewulf said.
    Jarvis glanced over at the lunewulfs at the same time
the bartender did. Shackley growled but continued stacking boxes of beer behind
his bar. He didn’t smell overly interested in the conversation.