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He didn’t realize it at the time, but his good friend and second, Parc Kingsley, had followed him from the club to the parking garage. “What’s up?” He asked when Cross began taking off his vest.
“I met my mate tonight, but the cops interfered.” Cross tossed him his vest and then slipped off his boots and began to undo his pants. “I asked him to wait, but he didn’t. He probably got spooked by the police. I followed his scent to this garage. I’m going to shift so I can trace him and find where he lives. His name is Autry Valentine.”
“Your mate?” Parc marveled at what he’d said. “That’s great, but he’s human, isn’t he?”
“Yes, a gorgeous little human, and he’s all mine.” Cross smiled and tossed his pants to Parc.
“Good luck, man.” Parc was genuinely impressed. Both he and Parc were older wolves. Even though they looked no older than thirty-five, they were actually closer to a hundred and thirty-five. Shifters and vampires had a long lifespan living hundreds of years if they were careful; they were immune to illness but not to weapons. They healed fast but not if a vital organ was compromised. A shot to the head or heart would end a shifter regardless of age.
“Thanks.” Cross shifted and headed out of the garage with Parc close behind until they reached the street, and then Cross was gone in a flash. He knew these streets, and his wolf was focused on one outcome finding his mate. Parc would inform the others and let them know not to expect him back tonight.
He made his way through town and out to the suburbs. He followed the scent for miles until he reached the suburb of Beachwood, approximately nineteen miles from the club. It was a nice area with lots of wild lands, trees, and woods. He and his men had been out in this area before on runs and found many areas that were secluded and private.
Cross continued to follow his mate and the aroma kept getting stronger and stronger, and he knew he was close. The residential area he was in looked clean and well kept but not high income. He came to a small house, also neat and well kept like the neighborhood, and knew for a fact his mate was inside. That reality nearly had him breaking down the door in his desperate search to be close to his mate.
He calmed his wolf and quietly trotted around to the side where the scent of his mate was the strongest. His mate was inside sleeping. He could hear his rhythmic breathing and the beat of his heart. Autry was there a few feet away in bed, sleeping. Cross breathed in the strong scent of his sleeping mate and settled into the long grass below the window. He would stay there for a few hours and head back to the club before dawn.
The night air was filled with the aroma of wild things, but none was as intoxicating as the scent of his Fated mate. Autry smelled like cinnamon sugar, heady and sweet and filled with energy and promise.
He couldn’t wait to be alone with him again and feel the heat and want of his body and the perfect satisfaction of making love to his chosen life partner. The details would have to be attended to, but the desire and pull to be with one’s mate worked both ways. He’d witnessed shifters finding their human mates and the desperation of both parties grew as time passed.
