The Howling Chalice

The bar was loud tonight. Glasses clinked, laughter bubbled over the hum of old rock music, and the smell of spilled beer hung thick in the air. Seline wiped down the sticky counter with a rag, her eyes scanning the room. The Howling Chalice wasn’t fancy, but it was hers at least for now. She’d worked here five years, long enough to know which customers were trouble.

Like the trio in the corner. Panther shifters, probably. They’d been nursing the same drinks for an hour, their yellow eyes flicking to her every few minutes. Shifters rarely came to the Chalice. Too many witches here, they said. Too many rules. Seline tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and ignored them.

"Another round, Seline!" A gruff voice called from the end of the bar.

She turned. Old Tom, a grizzled vampire with a fondness for whiskey, waved his empty glass. His fangs glinted when he smiled. "Keep ’em coming, kid. I’m celebrating."

"What’s the occasion?" she asked, pouring his drink.

"Outlived another ex-wife." He cackled, slapping the counter. "Third one this decade!"

Seline smirked. Tom was a regular, harmless if you ignored his habit of telling overly detailed stories about the "good old days" when vampires didn’t need permission to bite humans. She slid his drink over. "Try not to die before closing. I don’t want to clean up ash."

He snorted. "You’re all heart, kid."

She moved down the bar, refilling drinks and nodding at familiar faces. A group of young witches giggled over neon-colored cocktails. A lone werewolf hunched over a beer, his scarred knuckles tight around the glass. Seline kept her distance. Wolves made her nervous. Always had.

"Hey, boss."

She glanced up. Mira, her bartender, leaned close. The faerie’s blue hair glowed under the dim lights. "Those panthers in the corner… they’re asking about you."

Seline’s stomach tightened. "What’d they say?"

"Asked if you were the hybrid who runs the place." Mira lowered her voice. "They’ve been staring at you all night. Want me to kick ’em out?"

"Not yet." Seline tossed the rag under the counter. "Let’s not start a fight. Just keep an eye on them."

Mira nodded, but her wings twitched nervously.

Seline turned to grab a bottle of vodka—and her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She pulled it out, scowling at the screen. *Unknown number.* She almost ignored it, but something made her answer.

"Hello?"

"Miss Veyra." The voice was cold, clipped. Her landlord. "Your rent is three weeks late."

Seline gritted her teeth. "I told you I’d have it by Friday."

"Friday was yesterday."

"I - -" She glanced around, lowering her voice. "I need two more days. The bar’s been slow."

"Not my problem." The man’s tone sharpened. "If I don’t have the money by tomorrow, I’ll have you evicted. And trust me, a half-breed like you won’t find another place in this town."

The line went dead.

Seline slammed the phone down, her hands shaking. *Breathe. Just breathe.* She’d been here before. She’d survive. Again.

"Everything okay?" Mira asked.

"Peachy," Seline lied. She grabbed a tray of dirty glasses. "I’m taking these to the back. Watch the bar?"

Mira nodded, but her frown said she didn’t believe a word.

Seline pushed through the swinging kitchen doors. The clatter of dishes and the cook’s loud cursing drowned out the bar noise. She dumped the glasses in the sink and leaned against the counter, closing her eyes. *Two days. How?*

The answer was simple: she couldn’t. Not unless a miracle walked through the door.

She pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from her jeans. One left. Perfect. Seline slipped out the back door into the alley. The night air was cool, sharp with the smell of garbage and wet pavement. She lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply. The smoke burned her lungs, but it steadied her.

Footsteps scraped behind her.

Seline froze. Slowly, she turned.

The three panther shifters stood at the mouth of the alley. Their eyes glowed in the dark.

"Hey there, hybrid," the tallest one purred. He stepped forward, his movements sleek, predatory. "Heard you’re in some trouble."

Seline dropped the cigarette, crushing it under her boot. "Not your business."

"Oh, but it is." Another shifter grinned, flashing sharp teeth. "See, we’re here to offer a deal. You help us… we help you."

"Not interested." She edged toward the door.

The leader lunged, blocking her path. "Where you going, little witch? We’re just talking."

Her heart pounded. She could scream, but who’d hear her over the bar noise? Her magic buzzed under her skin, ready but fighting three panthers alone was suicide.

"Problem here?"

A deep voice cut through the tension.

The panthers whipped around. Seline peered past them.

A man stood at the end of the alley. Tall, broad-shouldered, his face shadowed under a hood. But his presence… it crackled like a storm.

The panthers hissed, backing away. The leader snarled, "This doesn’t concern you, wolf."

*Wolf.* Seline’s breath caught.

The man stepped into the dim light. His hood fell back, revealing sharp features, ice-blue eyes, and hair the color of midnight. He didn’t look at her. Just stared down the panthers. "Leave. Now."

The leader hesitated, then spat on the ground. "This isn’t over, hybrid."

The panthers melted into the darkness.

Seline sagged against the wall, trembling. The stranger turned to her. For a heartbeat, their eyes met—

And her world tilted.

A rush of heat flooded her chest. Her magic surged, wild and electric, and beneath it… something else. Something primal. Her wolf, silent for years, stirred.

No. She clenched her fists. This can’t be happening.

The man’s gaze sharpened. He took a step toward her. "You’re hurt?"

His voice was rough, low. It made her skin prickle.

"I’m fine," she snapped. "Thanks for the help, but I didn’t need it."

One eyebrow rose. "Those panthers would’ve torn you apart."

"I had it under control."

"Sure." His lips twitched almost a smile. "You’re welcome, by the way."

Seline glared. "Who even are you?"

He studied her, that strange intensity still in his eyes. "Austin Hale. New in town."

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away.

Seline stared after him, her heart pounding. Austin Hale. The name meant nothing to her. But the way her wolf had reacted…

She shoved the thought aside. No. She was a hybrid. Broken, as her mother always said. Wolves didn’t claim her. Not even her own.

Back inside, the bar felt suffocating. Mira shot her a worried look. "You okay? You’re pale."

"Just need air," Seline muttered.

"Uh-huh." Mira crossed her arms. "And the giant wolf shifter who just walked in? You know him?"

Seline froze. "What?"

Mira nodded toward the far corner. Austin sat alone at a small table, a beer in hand. His hood was up again, shadowing his face, but his gaze was fixed on Seline.

Her stomach flipped. Why is he watching me?

"Want me to tell him to leave?" Mira asked.

"No." The word came out too fast. Seline cleared her throat. "He’s just a customer. Ignore him."

But ignoring Austin Hale was impossible.

For the next hour, she felt his eyes on her every time she poured a drink, laughed at a joke, wiped the counter. It set her nerves on edge. Worse, her wolf wouldn’t settle. It paced inside her, restless, like it wanted to… go to him.

Ridiculous.

By midnight, the crowd thinned. The panthers didn’t return. Austin still sat there, silent, watching.

Seline couldn’t take it anymore. She marched over to his table. "You planning to stare all night?"

He looked up, unfazed. "Just enjoying the view."

She crossed her arms. "Why are you here?"

"Drinking." He lifted his beer. "Isn’t that what people do in bars?"

"Most people don’t lurk in corners like stalkers."

His lips quirked. "You’re welcome to join me. Might be fun."

"Hard pass." She turned to leave.

"Wait."

Something in his voice made her pause.

He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "You’re a hybrid."

It wasn’t a question. Seline stiffened. "So?"

"Witch and wolf?"

"What’s it to you?"

He shrugged. "Just curious. Hybrids are rare."

"Yeah, well, lucky me." She started walking.

"You’re afraid of them."

She stopped. "What?"

"Your wolf." His voice softened. "You keep it locked away. Why?"

Her chest tightened. "Not your business."

"Maybe not." He stood, tossing cash on the table. "But hiding who you are won’t make the panthers or your landlord go away."

Her breath caught. How does he know about that?

He stepped closer. Too close. She caught his scent pine and smoke and her wolf surged, desperate, aching.

"Stay out of my life," she hissed.

Austin held her gaze. For a moment, she thought he’d argue. Then he nodded. "Your choice, Seline."

He walked out, leaving her alone in the empty bar.

Seline didn’t sleep that night. She scrubbed tables, counted tips, and tried to forget Austin’s words. But they echoed in her mind. “Hiding who you are…”

At dawn, she stepped outside. The streets were quiet, fog clinging to the pavement. She breathed in the damp air, trying to clear her head.

A low growl rumbled behind her.

She turned slowly.

Four panther shifters emerged from the mist. The leader from last night grinned, his teeth sharp. "Miss us, hybrid?"

Seline backed toward the bar door. "What do you want?"

"Payment." He lunged, claws slashing. "Starting with your blood."

She screamed ….

A snarl ripped through the air.

A massive gray wolf slammed into the panther, knocking him aside. The other shifters froze.

The wolf stood over Seline, its fur bristling, fangs bared. Its eyes…

Ice-blue.

“Austin.”

The panthers fled.

The wolf turned to her. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other. Then it shifted fur melting into skin, bones cracking until Austin stood before her, bare-chested and breathing hard.

"You," she whispered.

He stepped closer, his gaze burning into hers. "You can’t run forever, Seline."

Her wolf howled inside her a sound of longing, of recognition.

“Mate.!

The word terrified her.

She ran…..