Chapter 7 North
North
Mornings always seemed to come too early these days.
I’d barely been sleeping in an attempt to keep my animal half from taking over my body.
No matter what I did, there was this growing chasm between my two halves.
We used to see eye to eye on absolutely everything, but when I asked him to give me a little patience so I could figure out how to charm our mate properly, as humans did, he retreated further inside me, refusing to have the conversation.
In his eyes, there was only one way forward, and that was to bite our mate. Everything else would fall into place.
Groaning, I rolled over in bed, pulling a pillow in to tuck under my arm. It took me far too long to realize I shouldn’t have been able to do that.
My eyes shot open, skittering dread unspooling inside me when I saw the dirt smeared across my arm.
“No, no, no, not again,” I groaned, kicking off the blankets.
Sure enough, I was naked again, and the ropes I’d used to tie myself to the bed were hanging loose against the headboard, frayed as though by my claws. “Son of a bitch.”
My jaguar smirked, smug as hell.
If ropes weren’t enough, maybe I needed to invest in something a little stronger, like steel.
As I slowly dragged on some clothes and prepared for the client I had coming in this morning, my beast seemed confused, and the slower I went, the more agitated he got. Go, see Joel, he said. Check on him.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Nice try, buddy, but I have a feeling Joel is just fine this morning. I will check on him when I’m good and ready.
” Honestly, I was good and ready right now.
I felt the same need to claim our mate as he did, and I would freely admit that the thought of chasing him down, to have him quivering and helpless beneath me, was hot as hell, but I refused to let myself be entirely ruled by my baser alpha instincts.
Mates should be pampered, revered, not terrorized.
That was not the way to win a human’s heart—or at least, that was what the article I read in Omegas Weekly magazine said.
I’d been doing my research this week, reading through a stack of omegas’ magazines from the studio waiting room, and they all agreed that it was about showing him respect, proving he could trust me to love and care for him as he deserved.
There were even step-by-step instructions on how to progress a relationship to the next level.
First date, a chaste kiss good night—no tongue.
Second date, a little making out was okay, but it should be limited to 15 minutes and clothes should remain on.
The third date, if things were going well, I might be invited into his bedroom.
I would’ve worried that my jaguar had gone out and bitten Joel without consent, completely destroying any hope of gaining Joel’s trust, but beneath my beast’s smug attitude, there was the underlying frustration of a failed hunt.
And even more obvious, I suspected if we’d bitten Joel, I would be able to feel him right now through a half-formed mating bond, but inside my chest, there was nothing but an echo of my own loneliness.
Despite my begrudging patience, not being in my mate’s presence was starting to make it hard to breathe.
It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch or withdrawal from the world’s most addictive drug.
It was only a matter of time before I gave in to the urge to approach him again, but it would have to wait for Monday, because I happened to know he didn’t work at the café on Saturdays, and stalking him at home felt like a step too far.
As I brushed my teeth, I practiced a few pickup lines in the mirror.
“Hi. Hello there. Howdy.” I shook my head.
“Fancy meeting you here. Do you come here often?” I winced, ditching it as a possibility.
I’d seen that one in a movie once, but he worked at the café, so obviously he was always there.
“Stupid,” I muttered, before I tried out a few different smiles.
Playful, sultry, goofy. Ugh, no. “How about… ‘you smell delicious’?” My dad had always said honesty was the best policy, and nobody smelled better than Joel.
My panther, though, was giving me some serious side-eye.
I could tell exactly how little he thought of human mating rituals.
Shifter way is better, he grumbled. Chase. Bite. Claim. Simple.
I hated to admit, he had a good point. Simple or not, though, we were going to do this right. Flowers, chocolates, tokens of affection. Date nights that would follow the “natural progression of a lasting relationship.”
I spat out my toothpaste, then stood up straight and nodded at myself in the mirror. “Dinner and a movie,” I said. “A chaste kiss good night.” I debated practicing kissing on my hand, and my jaguar blew a raspberry. I didn’t know he could do that.
Now all I had to do was find the courage to speak actual words to my mate, like… out loud. The mere thought made sweat break out on the back of my neck. What if I said the wrong thing? What if he rejected me before I even got a chance to give him flowers?
Whimpering in panic, I made my way downstairs, ready to start my day just for the distraction.
Mace and Denver stopped talking mid conversation as soon as they heard me coming, which probably meant they were talking about me.
I avoided their pointed glances as I made my way over to grab a mug from the snack station.
My brother had already started the coffee maker, and I moved the pot out from under the drip in order to fill my mug.
“So…” Denver began, “I hear you’ve found yourself a mate. When do I get to meet him?” The glare I cut his way had his smile shriveling up.
“Never,” I snapped, lip curling to reveal my sharpened canines, a low growl rumbling in my chest. The distance remaining between me and my mate had me feeling extra possessive.
Denver held his hands up in defence. “Touchy. I’m just sayin’, you’d better lock him down before someone else has a go at him.” Was that a threat?
My beast and I might’ve been at odds on how to approach our mate, but in this, we were in complete agreement.
Denver had to die. I slammed my mug down, sloshing scalding coffee over my hand, but I hardly noticed the pain.
My vision honed in on him, and claws pricked at my palms as I balled my hands in fists at my sides.
Before I could take more than a step, my brother moved between us, eyes glowing his jaguar’s gold, avoiding the inevitable bloodshed. He turned to Denver. “What is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish? Get out of here, you idiot,” Mace said, shoving him down the hall toward his room.
Denver flashed his teeth at me once but left willingly.
Mace approached me warily, but he wasn’t the target of our fury. “Hey, bro, take a breath for me, ‘kay?” He grabbed a cloth and took my hands one at a time, wiping the blood from my palms. “Denver’s a moron. He wouldn’t lay a finger on your mate, and you know it. It was just a poorly timed joke.”
“Well, it wasn’t funny,” I snarled.
Mace shook his head. “No one’s laughing.”
I blew out a long sigh, staring down at my hands where the gouges from my claws had already healed over. I hadn’t lost control of my shift like that since I was a teenager. This mate of ours was really throwing me for a spin.
My brother was looking at me, and I knew he saw too much. No one knew me like he did. He gripped my shoulder hard enough to bring me back to my senses. “Come out with us tonight. It’s Saturday night. I can guarantee you’ll have a good time.”
I shot him a look. “You cannot promise that. I don’t think I’ll have a good time ever again, not until I have my mate in my arms.”
My brother’s smile was sly, and I didn’t trust it at all. “Just say you’ll come, okay? I miss hanging out with you.” He gave me a little shake, and I softened.
I wouldn’t be where I was without Mace. For the past five years, since moving to this city, he’d been my family, my pride, my support system, and my biggest fan all rolled into one.
I couldn’t help but feel like he’d been putting his own life on hold because he didn’t want to abandon me.
I hated that I was holding him back. It was time for me to step up and claim my future, so that he could move on and find a mate of his own.
I knew they were out there; I could see a hint of his fate every time I looked at him.
“Fine, I’ll come,” I sighed. “But don’t expect me to like it.”
Mace’s grin was all teeth, eyes flashing with mischief. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I could hear the pounding bass from outside, even over the rumble of Mace’s custom cherry-red ’69 Camaro as he pulled into a parking spot.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was pretty sure I felt a headache coming on, but my jaguar seemed quite eager to go out for once.
He nudged at me with his cold, wet nose, quite the chilling sensation when coming from the inside of my head.
“I’m going, I’m going,” I muttered, climbing out of the passenger seat.
Thankfully Denver had driven over in his own car, because I still hadn’t forgiven him for implying he would make a move on my mate.
The lot was packed, and I had a hard time believing there were this many shifters in the city, but the club was exclusive to our kind, so I knew they weren’t human.
It was “members only,” if you will, though if any humans tried to apply, they were rejected for any number of ridiculous made-up reasons.
Hair of the Dog was the kind of place where shifters didn’t have to guard their animal natures quite so closely.
They served liquor laced with wolfsbane to hit us harder, and nobody gave us a hard time about a little peek of fur or feathers.
It wasn’t exactly my scene, but I could understand the appeal.
We headed to the front of the red-brick building where the entrance was, guarded by the largest bouncer I’d ever seen.
It probably had something to do with being a bear shifter.
His umber skin glistened under the neon light of the sign, biceps flexing as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at us.
“Can I see your membership cards, please?”
That was code; there were no such cards. Mace flashed his jaguar’s eyes at the bouncer, followed by Denver and a couple of our other friends, Seth and Mayer. I brought up the rear, but when I went to flash my eyes, I found my beast was already there, watching from the front seat.
Hey, back it up, buddy, I scolded him. We weren’t safe inside the club yet, and if any humans saw my eyes right now, it would be hard to pass them off as contacts.
The bouncer watched me struggle with my beast, the hint of an amused grin peeking from his otherwise stern face. “Keep it tame in there,” he told me, the line delivered like it was something he said to every patron, but in this case, it felt like a bit of a warning.
“Right,” I said, my return smile forced.
Stepping through the door was overwhelming at the best of times, what with the strobing lights and pulsing beat of the music, the odor of so many shifters slamming into me all at once. This time, though…
“Shit,” I cursed, coming to an abrupt halt right there in the doorway.
The alluring scent that curled around me, front and center, was that of my mate.
I quickly scanned the packed club, my eyes immediately locking on the only person here who mattered.
Joel. He was standing on the other side of the counter, serving drinks.
What the fuck? He worked here? I thought he worked at the café.
While I struggled to get a grip on myself, Mace came up beside me and slapped a hand on my shoulder.
While I didn’t look away from Joel, I could feel my brother’s shit-eating grin.
“Oh, did I forget to mention Joel worked here? My bad.” Suddenly his guarantee that I would have a good time made much more sense.
“Why don’t you go grab us the first round of drinks? ”
I nodded absently, but my legs were already carrying me across the bar—toward my mate and hopefully my future.