Ryder grappled with a local who’d tackled him, both of them crashing through another table and scattering dirty plates and empty glasses across the floor. They rolled apart, the local coming up dazed and bleeding from multiple cuts.
Siren danced away from grasping hands. Her attacker’s wild lunge carried him over a fallen chair, where he crashed into a display case, sending local artwork and pottery exploding across the linoleum.
Dom rolled away from the pile of locals and came to his feet, blood streaming from his nose and a gash above his left eye. The big man was still standing, swinging wild haymakers that connected with nothing but air.
“Enough!” Dom roared, his alpha voice carrying enough authority to freeze every person in the building.
The six locals were down. Winded, bruised, bleeding from cuts and scrapes, but all of them conscious and moving. Around them, the Fate Mountain Diner looked like a war zone.
The large front window was spider-webbed with cracks. Tables lay overturned and broken, their legs snapped off and scattered like pickup sticks. Booth dividers hung at crazy angles, their vinyl torn and stuffing bleeding out. Dishes, glasses, and food covered the floor in a slippery mess of ceramic shards and spilled drinks.
The owner stood behind the counter with his phone pressed to his ear, staring at the destruction in stunned silence. “What have you done?” he whispered. “You’ve destroyed my restaurant.”
Customers were crying. An elderly couple cowered behind an overturned table, the woman shaking uncontrollably. A family with young children huddled near the door, the kids asking why the bad men had broken everything.
Dom looked around at the destruction, blood dripping from his chin onto his jacket. This wasn’t what he’d wanted. This wasn’t what Steel Protection stood for.
The wail of sirens filled the air as multiple police units responded. Dom sat on the curb outside the destroyed diner, pressing a bar towel against the gash above his eye while EMTs checked the locals for serious injuries.
A new patrol car pulled up, and an older officer stepped out with the bearing of someone clearly in charge. The other officers straightened slightly as he approached, surveying the scene with the grim expression of a man who’d seen too much violence for one lifetime. He took in the six motorcycle riders who sat calmly waiting for him.
“I’m Chief Reynolds,” he said. “I need IDs from everyone involved.”
Dom produced his driver’s license and private security certification without argument. Around him, his crew did the same.
The young woman who’d recorded the fight hurried over to Chief Reynolds. “Chief, I got the whole thing on video. They tried to avoid the fight. The big guy threw the first punch.”
Chief Reynolds accepted the phone and watched the recording with careful attention. Another officer ran their IDs through the police database. “IDs check out, Chief. No warrants, no criminal history.”
Chief Reynolds gestured at the destroyed diner. “This level of destruction is something we take very seriously in Fate Mountain, Mr. Steel. The video showed obvious self-defense, but I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”
The owner stood in the doorway of his destroyed restaurant. “All of you. Never come back here. You’re banned for life.”
Dom stepped forward, blood still staining his shirt. “Sir, Steel Protection will pay for everything.”
“Your money can’t fix this,” the owner shot back, gesturing at the traumatized families still huddled on the sidewalk.
A crowd had gathered outside the diner. Even the witnesses who’d seen everything were shaking their heads, blaming Steel Protection for bringing trouble to Fate Mountain.
Dom led his pack through the same streets they’d traveled an hour earlier with such hope. They parked outside their building in the same neat formation, but everything felt different. The community they’d come to protect had rejected them within hours of their arrival. The mission that had seemed so promising now looked nearly impossible.
Inside his apartment, Dom stripped off his bloodied jacket and assessed the damage in his bathroom mirror. The gash above his eye would heal cleanly, the split lip was already closing, and the bruises would fade in a few days. Shifter healing was one advantage his wolf form provided.
But the damage to Steel Protection’s reputation might never heal.
He sat at his small desk, staring out the window at the town that had turned against them. He’d spent five years moving from one assignment to another, never staying long enough to build the kind of personal connections that made isolation bearable. The mission always came first.
He opened his laptop to research local news coverage of the diner incident, dreading what he might find. The Fate Mountain Gazette’s website loaded slowly, and a banner advertisement flashed across the top of the page.
“Find Your Fated Mate - Mate.com. All species welcome. True fated mates guaranteed!”
The ad showed happy couples, shifters and humans together, all of them looking complete in a way that made Dom’s chest ache. He’d heard other shifters talk about the site, how it had helped them find their fated mates when everything else failed.
Dom stared at the cheerful advertisement, feeling the weight of his isolation like a physical thing. Maybe this was exactly what he needed.
On impulse, he clicked the ad. The mate.com homepage loaded with testimonials from successful couples and promises of finding “your one true mate through advanced compatibility algorithms.” Dom almost closed the browser immediately. This wasn’t him. He didn’t do online dating or personal ads or any of the vulnerable bullshit that came with admitting you needed someone.
But the loneliness sat in his chest like a weight, and the cheerful faces on the screen looked so damn content. What did he have to lose? His reputation in Fate Mountain was already shot. His mission was hanging by a thread. Maybe it was time to try something outside his comfort zone.
