Page 29 of Binding His Fated Mates

Daniel shot me a stricken look, swallowing hard. “Uh, not all day, though. Right?”

“Hard to say. I’ll try to only be gone a couple hours.”

Daniel didn’t look especially reassured. But Hunter looked up from his book and caught my eye. He gave me a small, almost imperceptible nod. I’ve got this.

Doing my best to push my fears aside, I nodded back. I just had to trust that they wouldn’t kill each other when I was gone. Then I opened the door and stepped outside, leaving Daniel and my twin alone together.

* * *

The Crescent Moon bar wasn’t what anyone would’ve called a fancy place. There was a taxidermy moose head mounted on one wall, facing a deer head on the other, both presiding over the room with glassy-eyed indifference. Fishing poles, nets, and tackle decorated the walls. A neon sign advertising a popular beer brand glowed over the entrance, and behind the bar, the signature neon crescent moon cast its familiar pale light. Hank Brightborn—Jeremy’s father and the alpha before him—had opened this place decades ago. Its decor hadn’t changed since.

Reed and I busied ourselves with completing the opening duties, working together with practiced efficiency. Most of the folks in the pack knew how to operate the bar, but Hunter and I were the ones who worked there the most frequently, apart from Reed himself. Part of our efforts at making ourselves useful.

A handful of regulars trickled in over the next hour, after we opened. Jess and Charles, newly engaged, came in for lunch. A few others did, too.

I worked the grill while Reed managed the front. The rhythm of it—making the limited selection of recipes we offered, which I could do in my sleep—was oddly meditative. It required just enough attention to keep my hands busy while leaving my mind free to circle back to the things that mattered.

For instance, last night’s dream had been very odd. Hunter had surprised me. Was it possible to broach the idea of reconciliation in the waking world? Was that something he might finally be open to?

And then there was Robert’s wide-eyed panic.

And the strange figures I’d seen at the edge of the lake…

I realized with a start that I’d forgotten all about the glowing forms I’d seen on the opposite side of the lake in our shared dream. But maybe it was nothing—just figments of our subconscious minds.

It was after two, the lunch rush over, and the bar was empty apart from Reed and me. With no orders to attend to, I’d been wiping down the tables in the front with a bleach rag. That’s when the door of the bar crashed open with a bang.

I looked up to see Robert Callahan standing in the doorway. The sight of him knocked the wind out of me.

He looked exactly like he had in the dream. Exactly. Disheveled, gray-faced, wild-eyed, drenched in sweat, his flannel shirt buttoned all wrong. The same untied work boots. He swayed on his feet, one hand braced against the doorframe, his panicked gaze darting around the bar without recognition, as if he’d never been here before, despite coming in every day for as long as I’d been in Crescent Springs.

“What day is it?” Robert’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Please. Someone tell me what day it is.”

Reed crossed the room, concern pinching his expression tight, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Robert. It’s July sixteenth. Come sit down.”

Robert flinched at Reed’s touch. He stared at the alpha as if he were a stranger. “July?” The word came out strangled. “It can’t—I was just—no!”

Reed and I traded a startled look.

Robert’s voice rose. “The last thing I remember is June. The beginning of June! It was June seventh yesterday.”

Unease crystallized in the pit of my stomach.

Reed guided him to the nearest booth. “You’re safe. You’re at the Crescent Moon bar. You’re with friends. Just breathe.”

“Why can’t I remember?” Robert’s hands were trembling on the table. I could hear his heart pounding in his chest, way too rapidly. His gaze darted between me and Reed. His skin had turned chalky and pale. “I can’t remember anything! Why can’t I—”

Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped sideways out of the booth.

Reed caught him before he hit the floor and looked in my direction. “Lee! A hand would be good!”

But instead of moving, I just stared at them, thunderstruck. Robert, gray-faced and panicking: Why can’t I remember? And then collapsing.

Daniel, Hunter, and I had somehow dreamed of the future.

With a dark look cast in my direction—I was still just standing there, my brain locked up with shock—Reed shouldered the unconscious man’s weight and laid him gently onto the floor. Reed pressed his index and middle fingers to the side of Robert’s neck, then glanced over at me again. “He’s out cold. His pulse is too fast. Shit. There’s nothing natural about any of this,” Reed said, looking back down at Robert grimly. “It looks like there might be another monster in Crescent Springs.”

CHAPTER SEVEN || DANIEL