I nodded, swirling the liquid. “And what exactly is it that you smell?” I was playing a dangerous game, but I found myself too relieved by the distraction to care. Too thankful for the knowledge that misery needn’t be my only companion after days spent with the torture of believing it was all I now had.

The glint in his eye should’ve been warning enough as he declared with utter seriousness, “My next meal.”

Wine sprayed from my nose. I coughed, laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

The stranger seized the opportunity to move closer, his fingers pulling back the curtain of my hair. The tickling, barely-there touch was a caress over every sensitive part of me. I coughed again, startled by its power.

“You okay?” His mouth twitched. “You really need to get out more if you think a bastard like me is funny.”

“Perfect,” I wheezed, dabbing beneath my eyes and coughing one last time.

He nodded, lips still wriggling, but he didn’t move away. “Indeed.” He watched me, that eye stealing mine and narrowing. “Who are you?”

“Most males usually ask for a name.”

“Have a lot of experience in finding new bedmates, do you?”

As if he already knew the answer, his features didn’t change when I shook my head. “I’ll admit to being the committed type.” I picked up my wine, feeling his arm at the back of my chair like a fire-warmed blanket. Taking a sip, I carefully set it down while saying, “I have a feeling you’re not.”

He whistled. “Beautiful and judgmental.” My lips parted, an apology ready to spill forth when he gently flicked his fingers under my chin and grinned. “And absolutely right.” I laughed a little more, but it died when he said, “Give me your name.”

There was no hesitation, the half-lie spoken smoothly. “Aster.”

He cocked his head, a smirk joining his purred words. “A wildflower.”

“Dearest commander,” one of his friends hollered. “I am sorry to inform you that we simply must be taking our leave.”

The other laughed. “Not sorry at all.”

Scowling, the male beside me looked at the door.

His two friends exited the tavern with the females he’d been sitting with before joining me. One male with shoulder-length hair grinned and made a vulgar gesture, but rather than bristle over the loss of his nightly prey, the wolf beside me just made one in return and watched them go.

I cleared my throat, knowing I should have taken the opportunity to leave—to move away at the very least—yet I didn’t. It was as if his heat had fused to my own, and to part would guarantee the return of winter to my bones. “Looks like they stole your next meal.”