Claiming His Fated Mate (Wolves of Crescent Springs #1)

PROLOGUE || HARRIS

Asingle psychotic and oddly endearing vampire, I could handle. But being one of the few humans attending an entire wedding filled with supernatural creatures was a little much for anyone. If I was going to get through the evening unscathed, some heavy drinking was exactly what the doctor ordered.

“I’m going to need at least two more glasses of champagne,” I told the bartender. “And maybe some whiskey.”

Someone behind me in line snorted. Then I heard a man’s voice say, “Is it a smart idea to get drunk with so much mixed company?”

Surprise and annoyance flashed through me. There was no way this guy, a stranger, was speaking to me like that. Because who the hell did he think he was?

I turned to glare at him. “Did anyone ask you? This is my first supernatural wedding. I’m definitely not doing it sober.”

Then I registered who I was talking to. On autopilot, I noted he was tall—over six foot—and with a medium build.

He was pale and wearing a tuxedo, black hair cut short, and probably in his late twenties or early thirties.

I clocked those details without even trying.

It was the exact way I might’ve described him in a police report—one of the hazards of having been an LAPD homicide detective for too many years.

Then I blinked, surprised at myself, as it hit me that he was handsome, with a strong jaw, the defiant hint of a five o’clock shadow, black slashes for brows, and dark eyes that seemed to have no bottom.

Recognition dawned in me. Had I met him somewhere before?

He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

My annoyance drained away as I met his gaze. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll be fine.”

The dark-haired man’s expression went from bemused to startled as he met my gaze directly. Then his lips parted and the tension went out of his posture. “Um… have we met?”

“You do look familiar,” I admitted. “But no, I don’t think so. Have you ever been to Los Angeles?”

“I can’t say that I have.” He extended his hand. “Reed. I’m the alpha of the Crescent Springs pack. I’m Jeremy’s best friend.”

Well, that was a lot of new information all at once.

First off, Jeremy was one of the grooms. He’d just married Thierry, the brother of the aforementioned psychotic vampire who’d decided he and I were besties—and that I was flying into Seattle for my first-ever supernatural wedding, whether I wanted to or not.

Also, I was standing face-to-face with a werewolf. And an alpha, at that.

Huh. What was the etiquette here? Was I supposed to bow or something? But my climbing pulse had nothing to do with not knowing what the hell I was doing and everything to do with the fact that Reed was an extremely attractive man. I hadn’t noticed another guy like this in years.

“Pack, huh?” I said, trying for casual. I took Reed’s hand and shook it. “Harris. I’m a detective—and one of Cole’s friends. He’s Thierry’s brother.” I swallowed hard and met Reed’s gaze. “It’s… nice to meet you.”

Behind us, the bartender cleared her throat. I glanced at her to find her staring at me impatiently. Not surprising, given that there was a whole line of people waiting to order drinks.

“Right. Sorry. Maybe just the whiskey, actually—something top shelf. And neat.”

“A man after my own heart,” Reed said, studying me intently. “Good whiskey shouldn’t be ruined by adding anything to it.”

“Make that two,” I said immediately, glancing back at the bartender. She nodded and started pouring the drinks. I turned back to Reed and said the first thing that came to mind, which was apparently, “Weird question, but do you want to dance?”

“Why is that a weird question?” Reed asked, cocking his head to the side and appraising me—and also not answering my question.

The bartender placed the drinks down on the counter with a decisive clack. I pulled a twenty-dollar bill from my wallet and set it on the counter, then scooped up the glasses.

“It’s an open bar,” Reed said, frowning at me.

I nodded toward the line of people waiting to order. “She’s working hard. She deserves to be tipped well.”

“I manage a bar,” Reed said softly, stepping out of line and accepting the drink I handed him, his gaze searching mine. “I wish we had more customers like you.”

I shrugged, feeling heat creeping into my cheeks. “Maybe I’ll visit sometime,” I blurted. Then I realized what I’d just said and grimaced. More sheepishly, I added, “But not in a weird stalker way.”

Reed studied me, not saying a word.

“Sorry, man. It’s been a while.”

Reed took a sip of his whiskey, then grinned at me, his eyes gleaming with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “It’s been a while since what?”

“Since I’ve tried to be smooth or whatever,” I admitted. “I’m not exactly good at it.”

“Nah, you’re doing fine. Why would it be weird for us to dance?”

“I’ve never—err—” The heat in my cheeks became more intense and I broke off. I finished digging myself a hole by adding, “With a guy.”

Reed gave me a quizzical look. “Danced? Or—”

“Anything. I’ve never wanted to.” Then I froze. Why the hell couldn’t I watch my mouth around this guy? I knew how to run interrogations, for crying out loud! “Holy shit, why am I telling you this? I swear I’m not a psychopath.”

“Cheers,” Reed said, grinning and raising his glass. He didn’t look especially surprised by anything I’d just said.

I clinked it, feeling a little miserable and expecting Reed to politely excuse himself at any moment. “Cheers.”

Reed downed his whiskey in one gulp. I copied him.

At least the booze would make the incoming rejection sting less.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Reed said, setting the empty glasses on the table next to us. Surprise flashed through me as he took my hand, his touch warm and gentle. “And I wouldn’t mind if you shared some of those firsts with me.”

Then, my hand still in his, he led me out to the dance floor.

His brows shot up when I started moving to the beat of the pop song blasting over the speakers. He raised his voice to say, “You didn’t say you could dance.”

I grinned at him, suddenly happier than I could remember feeling in a long time. “There’s plenty about me you don’t know.”

“But I will, soon enough.”

My pulse quickened in a way that had nothing to do with the way I was moving my body.

We danced together for five songs in a row until a slow one came on.

Reed must’ve seen the way my expression faltered as uncertainty flooded through me—I’d never slow-danced with another man before, either—because he took me by the hand again. “Let’s take a break.”

With that, he led us to one of the circular wedding tables nearest to us. Mercifully, there was no one else sitting there.

His gaze held mine, a small smile tracing across his lips. “Who are you, Harris?”

Was it my imagination, or did I see a flash of real warmth in his eyes? Or, no, scratch that. It was more than warmth. It was an emotion I wasn’t even sure how to name.

But somehow, gazing into Reed’s eyes felt like the answer to a question I’d never learned how to ask myself.

It was insanity, the way I felt so completely at ease around him—but also the way my body was responding to him, like I was a schoolboy with a first crush and not a seasoned member of the LAPD.

“Just a guy,” I said. “An ordinary guy.”

“We call them mundanes,” Reed said. “And I doubt that. You’re apparently an ‘ordinary guy’ who hangs out with vampires.”

“Cole’s not so bad, once you get to know him.” I paused, then added, “You left out the part where I dance with werewolves.”

“How could I forget?” Reed asked, a smile curving his lips. And there it was again. That flash of tender, unnamable emotion in his eyes.

“Look, I’ve never done anything like this before,” I said, reaching across the table to take Reed’s hand. There was an immense sense of rightness at his touch. “With a—”

“A werewolf?” There was a challenge in his voice.

“No,” I replied. “Like I said before. With a guy.”

His head tilted to the side and he studied me. “But are you—uh—into guys?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say I’m not fully straight.

” And it was true—though I’d never explored that aspect of my sexuality before, I was definitely into him.

My body responded instinctively to his nearness, growing harder, my pulse quickening.

Between my physical reaction and the bizarre feeling of trust and belonging I felt with this total stranger, it should’ve freaked me out.

But it didn’t. Instead, I felt a calm certainty settle over me. “Am I out of line?”

“Not at all. And as for that, you can trust me. I’ve got you. You’re in good hands, I promise.”

“Is it weird I believe that?” I asked.

Then I met his gaze fully, looking him directly in the eye, mentally working myself up to ask if he wanted to get out of here—maybe back to my hotel, where I could allow him to keep his promises—and that’s when a bolt of static electricity passed from his palm to mine and I jumped.

Reed flinched at the same moment. He yanked his hand back and looked down at it, his eyes going wide.

The smile died on his lips when he looked back up at me. Going pale, he stood up, visibly shaken. “Harris, I’m sorry. I—” He didn’t look me in the eye. The tenderness in his expression was gone, replaced by panic. “Uh, I have to go. Now.”

I stared at him, shock coursing through me. “What?”

“Yeah. My pack is waiting for me. We’re heading back to Crescent Springs tonight.”

“Wait—what the hell just happened?” I asked, bewildered. “Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s not you.” Reed grimaced and shook his head, still not looking at me. A wall had slammed down over his expression. “I’m sorry.”

Without another word, he fled like the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels.

I watched him go in stunned disbelief, trying to make my brain catch up to what had just happened. I was left feeling hollowed-out, as if someone had scooped out everything inside me.

And that was the very first night the dreams started.