7. Rand
Seven
Rand
The hours tick by slower than a damn funeral procession.
Russ and Steve—two of my Pack mates and the mechanics who work at Jameson Customs—have wisely given me a wide berth all morning.
They know something's wrong.
They just don't know what.
Or rather... who.
Mate.
My Wolf whines for what feels like the thousandth time today.
“I know,” I mutter under my breath as I lean over the Road King on the lift.
Mate.
“I know.”
Mate.
“I KNOW.”
“Uh, boss?”
Russ's voice comes cautiously from behind me.
“You about done there?”
“Huh?”
He points to the chrome derby cover in my hands.
“I mean, you've been polishing that same part for forty-five minutes.”
I blink.
Look down.
Sure enough, I can practically see my own soul reflected back at me.
“Shit.”
Steve snorts from across the garage.
“Told you.”
“Told me what?”
“He finally found her.”
I freeze.
Russ elbows him.
“What?”
Steve shrugs.
“The man's smiling at motorcycle parts.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“I was thinking.”
“About a woman.”
I don't answer.
I don't have to.
The knowing grins spreading across both their faces tell me everything.
“Ohhh,” Russ says.
“Mating fever.”
“Shut up.”
“It is!”
“I said shut up.”
Steve laughs.
“Boss is cooked.”
“I'm leaving.”
I toss the rag onto my workbench.
“Lock up when you're done.”
Russ calls after me.
“Need us to bring soup?”
Steve adds, “Or a muzzle?”
I flip them both off without turning around.
Outside, the late afternoon heat hits me like a wall.
Doesn't matter.
The fire burning inside me is hotter.
Mating fever.
Every unmated Wolf fears it.
Every mated Wolf remembers it.
Find your fated mate, and fail to claim her, and your Beast starts unraveling.
It isn't sickness exactly.
It's longing.
Bone. Deep. Need.
Every instinct screaming that half your soul is walking around unprotected.
Every heartbeat reminding you she's out there.
Without you.
Without knowing.
Without understanding why she suddenly can't stop thinking about some biker she met last night.
Sweet Mother Moon.
Daria.
I forgot to get her number.
I actually forgot.
Forty-two years old.
Own a successful business.
Can rebuild a Harley engine blindfolded.
And I forgot to ask my mate for her damn phone number.
Idiot.
My stomach burns again.
The Wolf growls.
Go to Alpha.
Yeah.
Probably a good idea.
If anyone knows how to tell a human woman that the man she kissed last night occasionally turns into a giant Wolf, it's Rafe Maccon.
I fire up the Harley and head toward the Manor.
The sprawling estate sits just outside town, behind acres of old forest.
Home.
The heart of the Macconwood Pack.
Rafe always makes time for his Wolves.
That's just the kind of Alpha he is.
As I roll through the gates, something catches my eye.
A familiar white van with cheerful paw prints painted down the side.
Daria's Dawgs & Other Pets Mobile Grooming
My Wolf sits bolt upright.
Mate!
I grin so hard my cheeks hurt.
No damn way!
I park beside the van and cut the engine.
Laughter drifts through the open side door.
Children laughing.
Daria laughing.
Puppies barking.
I walk over quietly and peek inside.
Three soaking wet Golden Retriever puppies are running around, and it is absolute chaos inside the grooming van.
Three equally soaked ten-year-olds are chasing them.
“Valen!”
“They're slippery!”
“I know they're slippery!”
“I'm trying!”
Rafaella Maccon has one puppy tucked under her arm while Owen attempts to catch another with a towel.
The third races in circles around Daria's legs.
Everything is a mess, including her. But she looks gorgeous to me.
She has bubbles in her hair. Her shirt and her apron are both soaked.
But she isn’t angry.
On the contrary, Daria just bursts out laughing. She is knee deep in suds and puppy madness, and the woman can’t stop smiling.
Fuck me.
She’s adorable.
This woman is unlike any other I’ve ever met. She is one hundred percent real. Honest, kind, and so pretty it hurts.
Absolute perfection.
It hits me square in the chest—I’m not just fated to be hers. I am in love with her.
Ass over teakettle in love—whatever the fuck that means.
“No fair! You're faster than I am!” Valen shouts.
The puppy barks triumphantly.
Then the wee beastie notices me.
Woof!
Every head turns.
Daria's whiskey-colored eyes go wide.
“Rand?”
She smiles.
And it’s a real smile.
The kind aimed only at me.
Suddenly my mating fever eases.
Just a little.
“Hi.”
“Hi yourself.”
She folds her arms.
“Did you stalk me to a client's house?”
I laugh.
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I was choosing my words.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Rafaella gasps dramatically.
“Ooooh.”
Daria blinks.
“What?”
The little Alpha's daughter points at me.
“Rand likes you.”
I nearly choke.
“He really likes you!”
Daria laughs.
“And how exactly do you know that?”
“Because he's smiling.”
“So?”
Rafaella looks at me like I'm slow.
“Rand never smiles.”
“Sure, I smile.”
She tilts her head.
“When?”
“Sometimes.”
The triplets exchange identical looks.
“No way,” all three say together.
Traitors.
“So, you just happen to be here because?” Daria asks.
Rafaella grins.
“Rand knows our dad.”
“Yep,” I say. “Just stopped by to say hello.”
“And maybe ask Daddy something,” Owen adds.
Little brats are gifted with Wolf precognition.
“Mind your business.”
The kids laugh.
Daria shakes her head.
“Your friend’s family is adorable.”
“Our whole Pack is!” Owen says.
I freeze.
But if Daria notices something wrong, she doesn’t say anything.
She even smiles.
Shit.
He said Pack.
Before I can think of something to say, one of the puppies squirms free.
Valen lunges after him.
His foot catches on the grooming table.
He falls hard.
A sharp cry splits the air.
“Ow!”
Blood appears instantly where he'd bitten through his lip.
Everything happens at once.
The scent of fresh blood fills the van.
Rafaella gasps.
Owen’s eyes flash gold.
“Oh no,” Valen whispers.
Too late.
His shift overtakes him.
Thick brown fur explodes across his body.
His small human form melts into that of a gangly adolescent Wolf.
The puppies bark excitedly.
Rafaella and Owen start to shift in response to their brother.
Daria freezes.
The brush slips from her hand.
“What the wolf?”
The words barely leave her mouth.
Another blur streaks into the van.
Rafe—and he’s in Alpha mode.
“Owen? What happened?” he asks.
Charley—his mate—is right behind him with their youngest in her arms.
The Alpha’s eyes blaze inhumanly as he bends, scooping his furry son into his arms.
“Easy, buddy.”
Charley’s face is concerned as she takes in all three Wolf pups.
“Okay, just breathe now. Remember, we can’t just shift in front of everyone.”
The Wolf pups whine and whimper in response before their little furry bodies shimmer and shiver as they find their human skin once more.
“I'm sorry, Mama.”
“You've got nothing to apologize for,” his mother says.
Only then do they all look at Daria.
My gaze has never left hers. And she hasn't moved.
Her face has gone completely white.
“That can’t be…”
Her whisper barely carries.
“That’s not real...”
Her whiskey-colored eyes meet mine.
Questions.
Fear.
Disbelief.
“They’re Wolves? Werewolves?”
She sways.
“Daria!”
I reach for her just as her knees buckle.
She collapses straight into my arms.
“Damn it.”
I lift her effortlessly.
Rafe's jaw tightens.
“This isn't how I imagined our secret getting out. Rand? Who is this human to you?”
“Alpha, she’s—”
“Daddy, it’s not Rand’s fault. She was here to wash the new puppies,” little Rafaella explains.
“Hush now,” he tells his child, then turns to ace me with his Alpha gaze. I lower my head in recognition of his power, “Rand, I would like an answer.”
Finally, I take a breath.
“Alpha...”
He looks at me.
“She's my mate.”
Charley's eyes soften immediately.
Rafe closes his eyes for a long moment.
“When did you meet?”
“Last night.”
“And she doesn't know yet?”
“No.”
He nods once.
“If she rejects you, the Pack, then you know what I must do.”
“I know, Alpha.”
My thoughts go right to Sherry Morgan McAllister, she is mated to our Pack beta, Seff McAllister.
Sherry is a White Witch powerful enough to remove memories.
And the thought of her messing with my mate’s mind makes my stomach turn.
“No.”
My voice comes out rough.
“I won't let that happen.”
Rafe studies me.
“What are you asking, Wolf?”
“I am asking for one day. Just give me a day to talk to her, to let her decide.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Twenty-four hours? And if she refuses, do you know what will happen to you?”
I tighten my hold on Daria—because yes, I do know.
My Wolf is too far gone already. With the mating fever already starting, if Daria rejects me—I’ll likely go feral.
Feral Wolves are a danger to everyone, and it’s the Alpha’s job to keep everyone safe.
So, yeah, I know what he’s saying.
If Daria rejects me, it will fall on Rafe to put me down. Then Sherry will use her craft to wipe my mate’s memories of all of this. Of me.
Inside, my Wolf is losing his mind. But I don’t show it. I can’t.
“Just one day, Alpha. Let me tell her the truth.”
“And if she wants to leave?”
“I'll accept it.”
The words stick in my throat, but I say them anyway.
No.
I won't like it.
But I'll accept it.
“Please, I just...”
My voice cracks.
“I need a chance to convince her.”
Charley reaches over and squeezes Rafe's hand.
The Alpha sighs.
“One day.”
Relief nearly knocks me over.
“Thank you.”
“If she refuses?”
“I'll bring her back.”
Rafe nods.
“And Sherry will do what she must.”
I don't answer.
Because I'm already carrying Daria toward my bike.
Toward home.
Toward the hardest conversation of my life.
I cradle her across my lap as I drive us carefully to her place.
A few minutes later, she's tucked safely beneath a quilt on the couch in her old farmhouse.
The place is charming.
Worn hardwood floors.
High ceilings.
Boxes still waiting to be unpacked.
Outside, I can see the weathered red barn she'd told me about.
The future animal rescue.
It suits her.
I sit beside the couch.
Take her hand.
And I wait.
Slowly—after an hour or more—her fingers twitch.
Long blonde hair spills across the pillow as she stirs.
A soft groan escapes her.
Whiskey-colored eyes flutter open.
She focuses on me.
Confusion clouds her face.
“Rand?”
“I'm here, Honey.”
She frowns.
“I had the strangest dream...”
My heart sinks.
“Daria, I have something to tell you. It wasn't a dream.”
She blinks.
“What?”
I lace our fingers together.
“Daria...”
“What do you mean? Rand?”
I take a slow breath.
“I need you to believe something impossible.”