Wolf's Blessing - E-Book

It was just supposed to be a simple mercenary job. Instead, I fell in love with the enemy.

Ronan

I’ve been told I was a monster since the moment I could walk. Werewolves aren’t kindly accepted in this world, and I keep my true identity. But our strength and shifting abilities make us good mercenaries. In fact, it’s the only job I can do without getting arrested just for being me.

So, when I take a job guarding a cleric who wants nothing more than to kill me in my sleep, the last thing I expect is to fall in love with him. Not only does he guard my back while we delve deep into the earth to slay a giant worm, but he saves my life more than once as well. Just as we realize how special we are to one another, we’re torn apart.

And I have to wonder, will he come back for me? Or did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?

Dante

Being a Cleric of the Twilight comes with a lot of perks, which is why I took the job in the first place. Being promoted to full cleric means I’ll never have to worry about anything again. The order will take care of me. But the job isn’t as simple as it sounds. I have to protect and heal a group of monsters.

One monster in particular, a werewolf, is a special thorn in my side. However, when he nearly sacrifices himself to save me, I begin to question everything I’ve been taught. Is he really a monster, or just a man with a curse? Private moments turn into heated nights as we delve deeper underground. But the moment we return to the surface, we’re torn apart.

Now, I have to choose between a life of ease and saving the man I love.

Tropes: standalone, high fantasy romance, enemies to lovers, monsters, size difference, force proximity, fated mates, forbidden love, hurt/comfort, and HEA

Chapter One: Ronan
I slammed a handful of silver coins down on the counter, blood smearing across the surface of my fingertips.
“I need a room, food, a bath, and some company for the night,” I said, staring the tavern owner down.
“Right away, sir,” he said, scooping the coins off the counter. He paid no mind to the blood. Reaching down, he grabbed an iron key from below the counter. “End of the hallway on your left,” he said, pointing to a door at the back of the tavern. “I’ll have the bath filled right away.”
“Good,” I grumbled, heading that way.
“Sir?”
I stopped, turning back to face him.
“About your company… What is your preference?”
“Male,” I grunted, rolling my bulging muscular shoulders. “Someone that can handle getting fucked.”
“Right. Sorry for holding you up, sir.”
The truth was, I’d probably fuck anyone that let me right now. After two weeks filled with death and slaughter, I was too tense and worked up to be picky. My last job had taken me far away from home, leaving me stranded in the most godforsaken city in all of Eadronem, Terrastera. It was home to nothing but poor miners and sycophants looking for a nobleman to suck off to get ahead. There wasn’t anything for me there, and probably no jobs either. Thankfully the previous job paid well… perhaps because I was the only survivor. It turns out bandits can be clever when they want to be, and the rest of my group had been subdued in a matter of moments. But me? Well, I had a secret, which was the only reason I was still alive.
And for now, it would remain a secret. Once I was back with the Brotherhood, I could be myself again. But in places like Terrastera, where those bastard clerics wandered the streets day and night looking for people to turn in for clout or coin? It was the last place anyone wanted to get caught being different.
Different got you killed in Eadronem. Especially when you were close to those fucking religious zealots. Of course, the nobles were no better. They’d chew you up and spit you out before you knew what was happening. But thankfully, they kept to Aratis, the city floating high above Terrastera, casting it in near-permanent darkness. It was held there by the massive crystal that hovered between the two cities, or at least that’s what people said. They claimed it was the source of all magic and mankind’s link to the gods.
I thought they were full of shit.
Sure, there were a handful of people who could do magic. But most were corrupt officials, nobles, or greedy assholes worshiping the crown. Except for a couple of mushroom-addled druids, I’d never met a magic user that wanted to do any real good in the world. Then again, I guess I couldn’t blame them. The world was pretty much shit already. No amount of magic was going to make it better.
Besides, it wasn’t like I was doing any good either. If mercenary work didn’t pay, I wouldn’t be doing it. Hunting monsters and bringing in bounties wasn’t my idea of a great life, but I made a decent living. It got me out and about to several different places in the world, something most people never even dreamed of doing. The people of Terrastera were far too poor to worry about seeing the world, especially when their meals were spaced so far apart. Mining was the only real work in that wretched town; from what I’d heard, it wasn’t going well. I pitied them, but that’s as far as it went. No single person could save their failing industry. They’d either adapt or die. That was the way of the world.
But none of that mattered right now. I only wanted to get out of my sweaty armor and into a hot bath. After that, I’d dick down whomever they sent me and drift into a restless sleep. The moon was only a week away from being full, and I could feel the pull of its power in my blood. However, the wolf would have to stay hidden until I could get out of town, which I planned to do in the morning. I didn’t want to risk an accidental shift and end up in prison for the rest of my life. Not many people looked kindly on shifters, especially werewolves. They thought our disease was contagious. And they were right. Some did change after being bitten. It was how I became one. But most of them died, the wolf consuming them from the inside out before they could adapt to its power.
It was probably better that way. The world already had enough monsters, and most wore humanoid faces. Not that anyone would admit that. They liked to blame their problems on anyone but themselves.
I charged down the hall, already undoing the leather straps holding my armor on. My breastplate slipped off just as I reached the door. Throwing it open, I tossed the metal down on the side table, scaring the attendant that was inside filling the bathtub. But I paid her no mind, continuing to undo the straps on my pauldrons, unlacing my gauntlets, and removing the shin guards strapped around my legs. I had stripped out of my clothing by the time she finished filling the tub. Kicking my boots to the side, I turned toward the bath, not caring that I was completely naked. I stank, and my wolf senses made that even more evident. Not that the attendant seemed to care. She was taking her sweet time getting an eyeful of my body.
I stopped short of the tub, staring at her with one hand on my hip. Sweat mixed with old blood and dirt dripped down my body, but it didn’t seem to faze her. I knew she’d never seen a man like me, and I relished the attention. Werewolves tended to be handsome, muscular, and well-endowed, something many other people in Eadronem were not. Well, except for maybe the Orcs, they didn’t often come into big towns like Terrastera. I knew I was a rare sight with my deeply tanned skin, thick dark chest hair, and a dick that had made more than one concubine walk funny for a week.
“You’re in my way,” I said in a low growl. I leaned down closer to her. “And you’re not my type. Move it.”