Her.
The human with the dark hair and careful hands. Her nametag saysJewel, and it can’t be a coincidence. She stands at the giftwrapping counter, dark hair pinned back and shoulders straight despite the obvious weariness in her frame.
My first glimpse of her had been an accident, a chance encounter in the penguin exhibit at City Zoo. The second, third, and fourth times? Not so much.
It was her scent that drew me in more than anything—warm, like toasted walnuts and something sweeter, richer. It was maddening, compelling in a way that told me what I already suspected: this human was mine.
My fated mate. My alokoi. The one that I’ve been waiting for.
I linger near the Christmas display, pretending to admire a gaudy ornament covered in rhinestones while I watch her. The line for her counter shifts, and she smiles at the next customer. Not a big smile—just a small, professional curve of her lips—but her beauty still hits me like a hammer. She is graceful, methodical, her hands moving with precision as she folds and tapes.
“Can I help you with something, sir?” a sales associate asks pointedly.
I startle at her question, realizing a security guard nearby is giving me the side-eye. I’ve been loitering too long, looking out of place.
“Yes.” I grab the nearest thing within reach: a silver-plated snow globe with a tiny sleeping dragon inside. “I’ll take this.”
The cashier rings me up without comment, but my attention is already on the wrapping counter. The line is gone now, and Jewel is tidying up, brushing scraps of ribbon into the trash.
I approach, holding out the bag with my purchase.
“I know it’s almost closing time, but would you mind wrapping this?” I ask, keeping my voice low to hide the intensity of this moment for me. Our first exchange of words.
Her gaze flicks up to mine, her deep-brown eyes widening just a fraction. Up close, she’s even more striking, all sharp cheekbones and pillowy lips, framed by dark brows. “Of course,” she says, taking the bag.
I can’t help the small flick of my tail, hidden under my coat, as her hands brush against mine. She offers me a menu of wrapping paper designs.
“Which is your favorite?” I ask, desperate to draw out our interaction as long as possible.
“They’re all beautiful, but the plaid is the nicest quality,” she offers shyly.
“That one, then.”
“Good choice,” she says, smoothing out a sheet of the paper before beginning to wrap the snow globe. “Who’s the lucky recipient?”
“Let’s call it an impulse buy,” I reply, unconsciously leaning on the counter to be a little closer to her and her intoxicating scent. “It just caught my eye.”
It’s only half a lie. My eye was definitely caught.
Her lips quirk. “Maybe you should keep it, if you like it so much.”
“It’ll probably go to whoever I forget to buy a gift for. When you have a big family, there’s always someone!”
“So true.” A soft laugh escapes her, low and musical, and I’d do just about anything to hear it again.
She works quickly, her fingers deft and sure as she ties an immaculate bow and attaches a golden gift tag. “Here you go,” she says, sliding the finished package toward me.
“Perfect,” I say, meeting her gaze. “Just like the wrapper.”
She blinks, a hint of color rising to her golden-brown cheeks. “Happy Holidays.”
“Happy Holidays,” I echo, stepping back reluctantly to let the next straggler in line plunk his purchase down on her counter.
I leave Hoardstrom’s with my new snow globe tucked under my arm, and a powerful feeling that burns like fire in my chest, even brighter now than it did before.
Jewel is meant for me.
Chapter 3
