Call of the Wyl by Heather Wohl

Author:Heather Wohl [Heather Wohl and Aurora Alba]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rusty Ogre Publishing
Published: 2024-01-26T00:00:00+00:00

Stikitt Inn, Lagdaloon, Silvercrest

Brutus hopped off the cart and gave the ewanaian driver a nod. The glistening, green skin of his face pulled taut into a kind smile.

“You sure you wanna be here? I can take you with me to Enewain. I have family up there that can help you out. You don’t belong with the riff-raff of this town.”

Brutus gave a polite smile. “I’m quite sure, Cecil, but thank you. You’ve been a tremendous help already. Give my best to your family.”

Cecil tipped his straw hat and lightly whipped the reins of his horse. “Don’t be getting yourself killed out here.”

As the cart rumbled away, Brutus felt a well of anxiety open in his stomach.

What am I doing here?

As he dusted the hay from his cotton pants, he took in the tiny town. The scent of bile and urine stung his nostrils, just as it had in the prison yard that morning.

An apothecary was stationed across the street from a freshly renovated tavern. Small shops with produce and other goods were sprinkled along both sides of the dirt road ahead of him. The path itself was marred with potholes and divots.

Otis, you bastard. What the netherworld would you be doing here?

The renovated tavern looked like a judgmental face, with windows for eyes and pitched roofs over both, sitting like furrowed eyebrows.

Sexy, swaying, scantily clad bodies gyrated and beckoned Brutus from beyond the second-story windows, hopeful that the fresh client had deep pockets.

The front door swung smoothly as he entered. Inside, lanterns hung from thick beams overhead. The stories he had heard of The Stikitt Inn were true. The prostitutes perked up as he entered. I’m chum in the water, he thought.

Like hungry sharks, the unoccupied prostitutes wove their way through tables and patrons toward the wyl. A scandalously dressed human gave him a bashful smile.

“Hello there, handsome. Care for some company?” The busty woman cooed, thrusting her cleavage toward him. He admired her dishwater-blonde hair and barely-covered breasts peeking out of the bodice of her pink, flouncy gown. Her hips sashayed when she walked. She was a woman on a mission.

Brutus stood board-straight, unsure what to say. Her enchanting emerald eyes and smooth voice made his belly constrict. Images of Violet flooded his mind, and a pang of guilt made his twitching ears flutter faster, like the wings of a butterfly; the stunning shapeshifter’s laugh echoed in his ears, drowning out the sultry voice of the woman before him. Her face grew increasingly annoyed at his lack of response.

“Do you speak, or are you going to just stand there staring at my breasts?“ She snapped and cleared her throat, taking a moment to regain her composure. “Name’s Darla, by the way. Not that you asked.”

“Darla, leave that man alone!” shouted a voice from across the room. “A gentleman like you has discerning taste.” The female ewanaian made her way toward him. Stuffed in a green corset cinched so tight her breasts were just inches from her chin, she sauntered up to Brutus.

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