Lycan Breeder (Lycan Breeder Series Book No. 1)

Chapter 20

"Signore Blanc! Ah, and this must be perdere Clark!" A wrinkled face on a spry body, dressed in a tux and hovering around the front door, welcomed them inside. "You are nothing shy of enchanting." The orgulous proprietor with slicked back hair black as ebony signaled to a quieter area of the restaurant. "I have the perfect table for you. Please, come, follow me."

Teeth much younger than the skin covering them gleamed in a bright smile next to a warm setting. They were led to a booth near the back of the restaurant. Perfect location with views of the fireplace and large windows showing all the hustle and bustle of the nighttime activities of this neighborhood.

Pulling her chair, his date sat down and allowed herself to be tended to. The gentleman with the vested interest in their good evening fussed with everything from the napkin to her water. When the flurry of attention left the two of them alone, her small hand found its way into his large one again.

"I thought you might like the view out the front, so you could people watch."

"Yes, thank you."

Her serenity when surrounded by humans in a city and at a restaurant for the first time was inspiring. With every sudden noise, he would catch her glancing at him, looking for reassurance that it was a normal happening in this world.

"Is it common for people to stare at you?"

"Humans, yes. They know we're different, but they don't know why. So we get more of their attention as their instincts try to figure us out."

Sure enough, they were quite the centerpiece of the dining room. Stray glances and averted eyes when challenged were everywhere. The truth is that humans were attracted to wolves. They found the physical build and the magic given off akin to an aphrodisiac. It was an infatuation he was familiar with and indulged in years past.

The twitch, a slight movement that dragged along her dress where his mark lay underneath, accompanied the declination of a wine list.

"Have you given any more thought to your bucket list of things to do before you are carrying?"

"I have, but I haven't really come up with anything. Have you heard of a babymoon?" Sipping on her very virgin iced tea, the sound of tires squealed outside, and her eyes locked onto him.

Unfazed, for her comfort and because it was a minor event on the street that didn't impact them, he answered, "Not a honeymoon, but a babymoon?"

"Yeah." Her confidence was in lockstep with his own. "It's like the last trip a couple takes before there's three of them instead of two. Maybe we could do something like that?"

No. No no no no no.

"Where would you want to go?" The swig from his own very virgin Arnold Palmer hopefully hid his recoil to her suggestion.

"A beach somewhere. Maybe along the gulf?"

How to make this work... "Maybe an island somewhere. We could bring Doc Amy just in case." That should be an easy fortress to secure. Anyone swims ashore, rip them to shreds. No questions asked as their carcass gets tossed into the ocean.

Making her dreams come true over any threat's dead body.

"As long as they have steelpans and you, of course, I'll be happy."

The appetizer was brought out, and soon their entrees. The evening was going way too fast. Perfect, but fast.

"Alpha, we have a change in our threat level." Slammed through the link and filled his head.

"Explain."

Eggplant parmesan smothered in a red sauce that she miraculously kept off her clothing was being cut into small pieces and consumed with reverence. Why doesn't chef serve this vegetable more? Oh yeah, cause he hates it. Need to talk to her about that.