Magic and Wolves: Book 1 of West Mountain

Troubled

Sylas^^^^

"You look troubled Mate."

Hammer looked up from the drink in front of him. A young-looking man leaned back against the counter behind the bar, cleaning his hands with a rag. He had sandy blonde hair that was slightly tousled, strong features and startling gold eyes.

Two heavy silver hoops hung from his ears and a thick leather collar was around his neck. Combat boots and loose low riding jeans were the only clothes he wore leaving his well-defined chest bare.

A large tattoo started on his right peck, wrapping over his shoulder onto his back and down his muscular arm. A variety of black lines created a Mandala that centered on his shoulder and radiated out from there creating a traditional, tribal design.

His Voice was deep and low with a heavy British accent.

"I wouldna say troubled," Hammer replied, his Irish accent more prominent. He hadn't been hiding it since confessing to Cecilia, "Just lost in thought."

"Oi Mate," the bartender smirked, pulling out a bottle filled with amber liquid and topped off Hammers drink, "Your accents almost as thick as me own."

"Aye, it tis." Hammer winked, tipping his whiskey filled glass in a salute.

"Name's Sylas." The bartender laughed, reaching his hand out over the bar.

"Hammer." They shook hands smiling at each other. "So, what brought you cross the pond?"

"Time for a change," Sylas shrugged, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Travelled some around the world. When I got here it suited me, so I stayed."

"Cheers to that, my story is similar."

"So, what brings you here this evenin. Not drinking your troubles away, I hope."

Hammer shook his head, "Meeting someone here. She's late though."

Hammer glanced at his phone, seeing no missed calls or messages he frowned.

"Ah, trials of the heart can drive a man to the bottom of the bottle. I don't recommend making it a habit my friend." Sylas sighed, his eyes getting a far-off look as he finished his drink.

"Personal experience?"

"I've experienced more than most can forget in a lifetime." Hammer tilted his head slightly, looking at the blonde man but before he could ask what he had meant, Sylas pointed behind him, "Would this be your fair maiden now?"

Hammer spun, a grin forming when he spotted Cecilia. Even in a plain tight white tee-shirt and faded ripped jeans she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

She was walking toward him, but her attention was on the mountain of a man next to her. Hammer frowned as she grabbed his arm laughing at what he had just said to her. Hammers fingers twitched, sparks starting to dart between his fingers as a jealous feeling started to burn in his gut. Before he got too lost in his own thoughts a hand reached out gripping his arm painfully.

"Easy Mate. Let's not electrocute the entire bar cause someone told ya lady a joke." Sylas rumbled quietly.

Hammer jerked his head in a nod, inhaling deeply. He was beginning to understand more why Mages did not form deep relationships and why the Mate ritual was so intense. He had never felt so off balance, his emotions were unfocused, and he was struggling to control his magic.

Sylas slowly released his grip on the mage, watching him regain control of himself, he had no desire to witness what happens when a mage losses control of their powers and emotions, not again.