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“Couple of guys tried earlier. Friends shut it down. One’s been watching too long.”

My gaze snapped back to the predator in the shadows. “There,” I said. “That one?”

The man followed my stare and stiffened. “Yeah, him. He didn’t approach yet.”

Yet!

Draugr placed a hand on my shoulder, grip firm. “You keep your head Viking, you move now you need to be calm and controlled because if you scare her, you lose her.” The idea of losing her scraped something raw inside my chest.

I exhaled slowly through my nose, forcing the burn under my skin to settle into something sharp and usable instead of explosive. The club noise rushed back in, the bass, the bodies, the chaos. But Bryn’s name echoed louder than all of it. I rolled it over in my mind once more. Bryn. Then I straightened.

“Keep eyes on him,” I told our man. “If he breathes wrong in her direction, you intervene.”

The man nodded and disappeared again. I pushed off the railing, because now I wasn’t moving toward a stranger. I was moving toward my mate, and nothing on this floor was going to stop me from getting to her.

When she turned, when her eyes found mine across the club, my focus narrowed until nothing else existed. Her breath hitched, I saw it, felt it like it happened in my own chest.

That man noticed too. His gaze sharpened, following the line between us. That decided it. Whatever consequences waited, whatever attention I drew, I didn’t care anymore. No one watched her like that and walked away intact. Not while I was breathing, not while she was mine.

Every step down the stairs was pulled by an instinct stronger than anything I had ever fought. The crowd parted without realizing why. They always moved for us, but this time felt different. This time my presence wasn’t what they sensed. It was my purpose, and that purpose stood in the centre of the dance floor, chest rising unevenly, eyes locked on mine like she was bracing for impact.

I reached her.

She smelled even better up close. Heat radiated from her skin. Her pulse fluttered at her throat, fast enough that I knew she was nervous despite the defiant tilt of her chin. Her dark blond hair clung slightly to her neck from dancing, and every primitive part of me wanted to reach out, brush it aside and put my hand against that pulse just to feel it beating beneath my fingers.

Mine. The word came again. Harder.

I curled my hands at my sides. Touching her felt inevitable but not touching her felt fucking impossible. But I didn't trust myself yet. I didn't trust what I might do the second my skin met hers, because everything inside me was already screaming to claim something this woman didn't even know existed.

She stared up at me. Jesus fucking Christ, those eyes. There was curiosity there, but caution too. Good. She had survival instincts, she was going to need them.

“You've been staring at me,” she said. Her voice nearly fucking finished me.

I smiled slowly. “So have you.”

A faint flush touched her cheeks. “I was curious.”

“About me?”

“Don't sound so pleased with yourself.”

My smile widened. Definitely mine.

I held out my hand. “Viking Dragic.”

Her gaze dropped to it before lifting back to my face.

“I know.” There it was, someone had told her about us. “You're one of the Dragic brothers.”

“One of them.”

She looked past me, probably toward the upper level where Draugr remained watching.

“Your parents had interesting taste in names.” A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Fuck. When was the last time a stranger had made me laugh within thirty seconds of meeting them?

She finally placed her hand in mine and everything stopped. The club disappeared, music became a distant vibration. Hundreds of heartbeats vanished beneath one. Hers. Warmth rushed through my palm and straight up my arm.

Her breath caught. She felt something too maybe not enough to understand it but something. Her fingers twitched against mine. “What was that?”