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1
Oh, great. I’m being stalked.
I’ve only gone two blocks away from Charlie’s, the bar where I work, when my inner wolf rouses up from her sleepy doze, instantly alert. She’s not snapping or snarling a warning, but yipping sharply to draw my attention to the silent predator padding somewhere behind me.
Poor girl. The two doubles I worked yesterday and today for a distraction must have tired her out if it took her that long to notice. I sensed that he was out there as soon as I stepped onto the street.
He’s good, though. I’ll give him that. A human would’ve been oblivious to his presence, a vampire too arrogant to even guess they were being watched, and most shifters wouldn’t have noticed the few clues he left behind.
But I’m not most shifters, am I?
At the next crosswalk, I dare a peek over my shoulder while I wait for the light to turn red. Normally, I would just jaywalk—even though the humans in Muncie think I’m just like them, I’m not, and there isn't a single car around fast enough to plow down a shifter—but I take the few seconds to track down where he’s hiding.
I snuffle in a breath, but there’s no obvious scent over the asphalt, the oil, the garbage, and the stale beer that clings to my Charlie’s tee.
Hmm. That makes it a little more difficult.
My stalker is using the mid-August humidity against me. By coming up from downwind, the summer breeze is pushing his scent away from me, giving him an advantage.
Then again, me being an alpha wolf evens the odds, and my nose isn’t the only tool I have.
The quick glimpse over my shoulder doesn’t tell me much, either. It’s late out. Charlie’s doesn’t really close—it’s a supe bar with a majority of vamp patrons who own both the city and the night—but my shift usually ends around eleven or twelve, depending on when it started.
Tonight, I stayed an extra hour later to help Hailey with the midnight rush. I left a few minutes after one, so no surprise that the streets are quiet. Empty. Charlie’s is the only place open on this stretch of road, and though my wolf can’t pick up on the vamps—she only senses living things and vamps register as dead from their icy skin to their icy, bloody scents—my shifter’s sight can see clearly for more than four blocks.
Behind me, I count three vamps making their way downtown. And while the protection I once had against the vamps who run the Fang City is nonexistent nowadays, none of the fangy supernaturals are interested in me.
In fact, once it got out to the local supe community that I’m a shifter—and, not just a shifter, but the fated mate of the Mountainside Pack’s Alpha—a majority of the vampires I wasn’t already friendly with act is if I don’t exist.
I get it. I do. The last thing the Cadre needs is for one of their people to trigger another Claws and Fangs war between shifters and vampires. Right now, our people have an unsteady truce. If I’m forced to defend myself against a rogue vamp, I will, but I’d rather not be responsible for another supe battle if I can avoid it.
The all-powerful Cadre, led by head vamp Roman Zakharov, feels the same way. So even though I gave the charmed fang that shielded me back to my vampire roommate, most Muncie vamps consider me off-limits in one way or another.
And since Roman gave my kinda, sorta,almostmate permission to court me inside of Muncie’s borders, Ryker gets a pass, too.
Not like he needs one. Ryker’s already shown that he’ll attack a vampire if provoked. Sure, that vamp happened to be Aleksander Filan, my aforementioned roomie, but still. A powerful alpha wolf himself, Ryker will fight if challenged because, well, we’re shifters. That’s what we do.
Good thing Ryker’s not interested in starting another war, either.
Oh, no. His only aim—as it has been for almost two months, ever since he found me living here back in June—is to convince me to say yesto being his bonded mate.To being his forever, and to rejoining the Mountainside Pack who claim the mountainous territory just outside of Muncie.
I haven’t yet, and not only because I’m as stubborn as I am impulsive.
After the last year where I believed that Ryker rejected me, choosing another female to be his mate, I just need a little more time to accept that he wants me for me and not because I’m only the second female alpha that our people have heard of. With the first being our revered goddess, the Luna, it definitely means something that I’m another one.
If only I could figure outwhatit means. Because, yeah. I’m… not so sure yet.
According to pack lore, female alphas have all kinds of tricks up our sleeves. Supposedly, any male she mates with becomes an alpha no matter if he’s a beta, delta, or omega when he first lay down with her; if shebondswith him, he becomes a god in his own right. And then there’s how a single howl ripped from her throat could control any packmate no matter their ranking.
Now, that last one? Yup. I can personally vouch that it’s true. As much as I never wanted to use my pack status against another wolf, I did just that during the full moon before last and it totally worked. Which leaves me to wonder about the other rumors.
Wonder? Try obsess.
Since Ryker Wolfson walked back into my life, obsessing has become one of my defining personality traits.
Like now—
I shake my head and, when I see that the light has gone from green to red, I put my hands in the back of my jeans pockets and stroll purposely forward as if I don’t have a care in the world—or like I have no freaking idea I’m being followed.
