Chapter 2
Nessa’s hands shook as another figure emerged from the truck, closing the driver’s side door before he turned and glared in her direction.
The man was well over six feet tall with a long beard, brown hair that had been cut since the last time she’d seen him, and a permanent scowl plastered on his face that she’d only ever seen disappear when his thoughts were on Hunny.
Tank Sinclair, Murphy’s brother. Werebear, she added silently, as if she needed the reminder.
Her pulse spiked as he neared, and her mouth dried in fear, though she knew the emotion was ridiculous. Tank might be a grumpy guy, but he was a solid man. Just the way he acted around Hunny was proof enough of that.
Still, Nessa’s fear didn’t abate. Swallowing thickly, she stuck her trembling hands into the front pockets of her jacket. He tracked the movement, and oddly enough, some of his scowl faded. Even his shoulders relaxed, as though he were trying to make himself appear less threatening.
It didn’t work, but she appreciated the effort all the same.
“Hey,” Nessa called out, wincing at the way her voice wobbled. “Long time,” she added lamely when Tank didn’t return the greeting.
“And whose fault is that?” Tank spat out gruffly, his scowl deepening in an instant. “Got my mate up early in the morning and all the way out here to this damned town because you won’t pick up the phone.”
Mate. He’d said mate! So it was true; such a thing existed. Which meant she hadn’t misunderstood Murphy.
Ho-ly shit.
Was Murphy really Nessa’s soul mate then? Her heart picked up a frantic beat.
Calm down! You don’t know exactly what it means, so no more thinking about it. Too bad that was easier said than done.
“Henry, we talked about this. It’s okay,” Hunny chided softly.
Nessa watched her as she rubbed a hand in slow circles over her baby bump.
Her hair was a few inches longer now, and her skin looked ethereal.
She was positively glowing, and Nessa felt a bit of shame creep in that she’d missed out on this exciting time in her friend’s life.
If she could even call herself a friend after all but ghosting Hunny.
“It’s not okay,” Tank replied with a huff, narrowing his eyes on Nessa as if he expected her to argue.
Squaring her shoulders, Nessa said, “You’re right, Tank.
” She glanced at Hunny and then looked down at the ground before finally setting her sights on the front door to her teahouse.
“Maybe we should go inside.” That way Hunny could get off her feet, and Nessa could figure out what they wanted, now, after all this time.
They’d never actually visited since the incident.
She didn’t bother waiting for an answer, beelining for the front doors. She unlocked them, holding one open for Hunny and Tank. As they neared, she tensed instinctively. This, she knew, had less to do with recent events and more to do with the fact that a man had entered her space.
“You reek of fear,” Tank grumbled, stepping into the building after Hunny. “If I was going to kill you, I would have done so months ago.”
Hunny whipped around, pointing menacingly at the big man. “Henry! You can’t say stuff like that!”
Tank only grunted in response.
“You can smell my emotions?” Nessa asked as she locked the door behind them. That made sense, she guessed.
Werecreatures were part animal, so they’d have a stronger sense of smell than humans, just like in the books. What else was similar?
She waited until Tank and Hunny turned away from her and walked further into her shop before she lifted her arm and sniffed near her armpit, curious to see if she could figure out what the hell ‘fear’ smelled like.
All she caught were whiffs of her deodorant and hints of Murphy’s own intoxicating scent, the latter of which had her inhaling deeply, trying to drag more of it into her lungs.
Her anxiety eased as she breathed in that enticing sandalwood fragrance, the finite traces of pine and that sweet flowery scent she couldn’t place making her mouth water.
Usually, she tried to ignore the scent that haunted her daily, but now, as she inhaled again, her eyes nearly rolled back in pleasure; a torturous ache ignited in her core that she hadn’t felt in years.
Murphy—
Nessa’s eyes snapped open, widening with shock as she felt slick seep from her core, dampening her panties. What the hell was she doing?!
Quickly, she dropped her arm, her face heating with embarrassment. How long had she been standing there, growing aroused while sniffing her armpit like an absolute nut?
Something’s wrong with me.
Luckily, Hunny and Tank had already found a table to sit at in the dining room of the teahouse, so they hadn’t caught her acting like a complete weirdo. But as soon as she neared, they’d probably smell her arousal.
Just great.
Gritting her teeth as her anxiety returned, Nessa walked into the lobby, moving to the right and ignoring the dining room on her left.
Stepping behind the counter, she dropped her large purse near the cash register with a thunk.
She kept a gun in there for safety reasons, and though she rarely used it, she felt better whenever she left home with it in tow.
After the wolf incident, she’d made sure it stayed close to her side every second when she left her house.
Next, she removed her jacket, grabbing the front of her sweatshirt and fanning herself. She wasn’t hot or anything, but hopefully, it would dilute her scent.
“What are you doing?” Tank barked, suddenly standing only a few feet from her. Surprised, Nessa jolted in panic.
Her hip slammed into the edge of the counter, and she hissed out a pained breath, bracing her hands on the countertop as a sharp sting rattled along the bone.
Tank, to his credit, didn’t comment on whatever he could smell wafting from her this time. Instead, his glower softened. “Come on, Yapper Two. Got a lot to talk about.”
Nodding, she pushed away from the counter, wincing at the now throbbing pain in her hip that protested with each step she took into the dining room.
Hunny sent her a worried glance, her chair pushed back from the table to accommodate her growing bump. “Everything alright?”
“Just terrifying Murphy’s—Nessa,” Tank corrected, the near-slip echoing in Nessa’s ears like a drum beat.
Oh yeah, he’d definitely been about to call her Murphy’s mate.
“You know, I feel like you talked less the last time I saw you,” Nessa commented dryly, waiting for him to take a seat next to Hunny before she took her own at the table across from them.
“A lot’s changed in two months,” Tank growled. “You’d know that if—”
“If I picked up the phone?” Nessa finished for him, giving him a glower of her own. “You don’t have to remind me of something that I’ve thought about every day.”
“You have?” Hunny asked suddenly, perking up in her seat.
Nessa bit her lower lip, unsure of how to answer.
“I’ve felt bad for ignoring you. I just …
I needed time to wrap my head around things, and then when I finally processed everything, it felt like I’d waited too long to talk to you.
Each time the phone rang or you texted, I wanted to answer, but I didn’t know what to say.
I felt guilty that I didn’t respond, but relieved at the same time because that meant I could just block everything out, at least for a little while longer.
And then you stopped calling, and I …” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I don’t know if that makes sense—”
Tank rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t—”
Hunny elbowed him in the side. “It does. At least to me.” Her eyes shifted back to Nessa and softened. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to spend your life believing one thing, only for something crazy to happen and warp your entire reality.”
“It’s not exactly a walk in the park,” Nessa mumbled under her breath, low enough that only she could hear. Tank scoffed, and she looked up at him in confusion. “Did you—you heard that?” she exclaimed as the realization washed over her. Of course, he had.
“Our senses are heightened,” Hunny confirmed softly, as if she were nervous that raising her voice would freak Nessa out.
Given the ache still thudding prominently on her hip, Nessa didn’t doubt it for a second.
She was obviously still very twitchy. “Depending on the type of shifter, they can also be stronger. Faster.”
Shifter? That sounded better than ‘werecreature.’
“Just like in my paranormal books,” Nessa stated, though it felt more like a question than anything else. At Hunny’s nod, she licked her suddenly dry lips. A million questions flew through her head, and she blurted out the first one, “I heard Tank call you his mate. What does that mean, exactly?”
Hunny exchanged a look with Tank, who sighed in resignation. “That’s actually why we’re here.”
Nessa stiffened, her heart picking up a frantic beat. This time, it wasn’t out of fear for Tank himself, but at what he’d come here to say. It had to be about Murphy.
“How much do you remember about the night you were attacked?” Tank asked.
Nessa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “If you’re asking if I remember the part about Murphy shouting at someone that I was his mate, then yes. I do.” She ran an unsteady hand through her hair, hoping to at least appear unphased by the sudden onslaught of memories now bouncing around in her head.
“A mate is like a spouse in the supernatural community, only it’s more permanent than that.
There are no rings exchanged, nor a marriage contract to bind us.
Each mate bites the other, igniting a bond that cements their union.
We call that a mating bond,” Hunny added.
“Henry and I are mates, so I have a mating mark and so does he.”
That’s right; Nessa remembered seeing a bite mark on Tank’s neck that day in her teahouse, and she’d joked to Hunny about getting carried away during sex. She hadn’t known she’d been teasing them about being mated.