“And a Sex On the Beach,” Kane added. Good man.
“H-happy birthday,” she murmured to Weston over the noise of the crowd.
Behind Weston, Ryder and Alana and some other giant people she didn’t recognize whooped and lifted their drinks.
“She said it!” Ryder crowed. “Drink up!”
“What did I say?”
Weston took a long swig of his drink and set it down too hard for her taste. “Birthday. Maybe keep that quiet so our livers can stay intact tonight.”
“Fuck you, man, she didn’t know,” Kane gritted out. He handed Avery a full shot glass.
“I haven’t done this before,” she said over the music.
Kane’s grin transformed his face, and instantly, his nervousness from earlier seemed to fade away. “You’ve never shot whiskey?”
“I’ve never shot anything.”
“To a night of firsts,” he said, tinking his glass against hers, then he turned and bumped the bottom of the glass on the table before he threw his head back and finished it in one gulp.
Okay then. Avery bumped the glass on the counter and drank it like Kane had done. And oh, it burned all the way down. She coughed and grimaced, her knuckles against her lips.
Ryder cheered from a few bar stools over while Avery chased the shot with the Sex On the Beach. Kane threw a few bills onto the counter for the bartender.
“Thanks for buying me these.”
Silver Claws had moseyed around Kane and was now hanging around Weston’s neck like a trampy necklace. Avery wanted to peck her eyes out, but at least Weston looked uncomfortable and was trying to pry her off him. She wasn’t deterred, though, and when the woman leaned forward and whispered something in Weston’s ear, green fury snaked through Avery’s veins.
“You aren’t an oyster,” Avery gritted out.
“Excuse me?” the woman asked, her baby blues sparking with anger.
Well, now she was in it. The Bloodrunners had gone quiet, and Weston was looking at her like she’d lost her mind. She had. She hated the way Weston was trying to get rid of this woman, but Silver Claws was pushing him. Avery cleared her throat and clenched her hands around the strap of her purse to steady them. “You aren’t an oyster, and he ain’t your pearl, so let him go.”
Silver Claws narrowed her eyes to feral little slits. Kane snorted from behind her. Weston was frozen in place holding the woman’s wrists so she wouldn’t molest him further. Ryder giggled and asked, “How do you spell oyster? I’m live tweeting this shit.”
Silver Claws wrenched her wrists out of Weston’s grip and stomped past Avery, bumping her hard in the shoulder as she did. It hurt, but at least she wasn’t touching Wes anymore.
Wes? When had she gone from thinking of him as the Novak Raven to Wes?
“What are you doing here?” he asked Avery, leaning in close.
“It’s your birth—” She cleared her throat and said, “I’m here to celebrate your big day.”
His lips thinned into a somber line, much different from the striking smile Silver Claws had been able to draw out of him. “I think you should go.”
“Why are you being so fucking rude right now?” A dark-headed woman with two oddly-colored eyes said from behind them. “Retract the talons, Wes. It’s a bar, not a private party.” She held out her hand for a shake. “I’m Harper.”
Avery choked on her drink. “The Bloodrunner Dragon?” she rasped out.
“Yep,” Harper said with a friendly smile. That’s why the air felt so damn heavy in here.
Avery shook her hand fast, on account of being terrified of the monster in her middle. That and Harper’s skin felt like hot embers. Kane handed her another shot of whiskey.
“Slow down, man,” Wes gritted out.
Pissed, Avery ground out, “You don’t control me.” And then she took another shot with Kane and chased it with her Sex on the Beach.
“Yeah,” Ryder said, typing away on his phone. “She’s a grown-ass woman.”
“That’s right.” Whoo, she felt brave right now. Definitely tipsy, but mostly brave. “I am a grown-ass woman.”
Harper giggled and said, “I like you. Let me introduce you to everyone. That’s Lexi.” She gestured to a smiling woman with dark hair and bright green eyes that matched her camouflage tank top. “You clearly know Ryder, and over there is Aaron and Alana.” She gestured to a tall, muscular, blond man with piercings in his ears and tattoos all over him. Alana she knew, and since the shots were making her feel invincible, she waved to the woman with the dark eyes and the scar on her lip, and this time, her raven didn’t want to fly away, cawing in terror.
“And this,” Harper said, “is my man, my future baby daddy, my everything, Wyatt.” She wrapped her arms around a titan with bright blue eyes and spiked up brown hair.
Avery arched her neck all the way back and grinned. At least she thought she grinned. Her lips were numb right now. “You’re big, and you smell like a bear.”
Wyatt laughed and said, “I am a bear, actually. What are you? And don’t tell me human because you gave yourself away with your sense of smell.”
Crap. Avery stood frozen in place, her lips searching for her straw. She stalled, sucking her drink and blinking slowly as though she hadn’t heard the question.
“Go ahead, Avery,” Wes said, his eyes cold. “Tell them what you are.”