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Her haste to put the bank behind her and find somewhere, maybe with external seating, made her sloppy. She walked straight into an unyielding wall of warm muscle, like something out of a clichéd movie. Her forehead literally collided with the man’s shoulder. Hisshoulder!
Amaia stumbled half a step backward, immediately flustered with embarrassment, before something equally strong and sturdy locked around the small of her back. Holding her steady and upright. Also holding her close enough that she had to crane her neck to meet this unnaturally tall stranger’s gaze. Her mouth ran dry, and her body pulsed as heat shot through her at the intense, smoldering golden-amber stare focused back at her.
He had to be a full foot taller than her, at least, and she was five foot, six inches without heels. His shoulders were broad and so muscular they nearly distracted from his strong, scruffy jaw and the brown hair so dark it was practically black that hung over his forehead and the tops of his ears. But it wasn’t shaggy or unkempt, either. A little wild on top, in a style she found very appealing, but shaven behind his neck, like an undercut.
His fingers pressed into her hip, reminding Amaia all of a sudden that this inhumanely attractive male specimen still had his arm around her. And that she was staring. His mouth opened even as realization dawned, and a deep, vibrating voice slipped past his lips. “You should be more careful.”
Her heart shot into overdrive. Amaia nodded too rapidly and licked her lips. “Yes. I’m so sorry. Thank you.” She finally gathered enough of her wits to squirm out of his grasp, chastising herself for behaving so stupidly. “So, so sorry. Have a good day!” She twisted on her heel and fast-walked away, praying this was the last time she would ever see the sexy stranger. It was the only way she could be sure she wouldn’t humiliate herself in front of him again.
****
Rhys wanted to laugh and roar simultaneously at the way she’d scrambled from his grip and fled in an almost tangible panic. She was a skittish thing. But now that he’d gotten a good, up-close look at her, there was no doubt. She was the one.
He’d left his pack nearly two weeks earlier in order to find her. A woman whose name he himself hadn’t remembered, and whose location he had no way to know. The grown-up version of a face that lingered in the recesses of his childhood memory, eternally taunting him with her absence. Rhys had thought himself half mad every time the residual warmth of a laugh he hadn’t heard in decades pulled him away from a willing, flesh-and-blood female. It wasn’t a good situation for an alpha to be in, so he didn’t talk about it. But with his fortieth year looming, he understood the increased pressure on him to take a mate and continue his bloodline.
Would he be the first Adler Alpha wolf to settle for a female who wasn’t his predestined mate? Or would he be the first to look outside the wolf-shifter community and take a mate—or a wife—of a different species? Both options carried their own weight, and their own controversy. He disliked the idea of being the one who tarnished his family’s proud pedigree. But he also disliked the idea of being the alpha who failed to provide for the pack’s future.
It was that fear, and the hope of an answer simply waitingbeyond their limited community, that had prompted him to take the old man’s advice. Old Man Thomas, a human with latent shifter blood, had been a member of their pack his entire life and a loyal friend to Rhys’s father. Thomas was the one who’d come to him after the last full moon and broached the subject of a young girl whom Rhys, also then merely a boy, had been oddly infatuated with. Many had believed he’d sensed the early stages of a true bond in her. Thomas believed that was why her mother had taken her away after the girl’s father passed.
Thomas had remembered her name, and a general direction he suspected they’d gone.
Despite this new and intriguing information, Rhys had hesitated. He knew what awaited him if he did nothing, but if he chased the girl from his memories, that left his pack vulnerable. They were well-established in their little pocket of Idaho. The other wandering local shifters would most likely leave his wolves and incorporated humans in peace. His beta and their watchers were capable. But the threat of invasion when an alpha left his post had to always be considered.
Then there was the other detail. The reason Thomas had given for withholding this information for so many years. The girl, Amaia, was the daughter of a wolf-shifter … and a human. Meaning she herself was what the more old-fashioned among them considered dirty. A human-dominant hybrid. But because she already had wolf-shifter blood inside her, if she accepted him—if he chose her—their children could still be shifters. A thoroughly complicated mess of a situation. If he brought her home, she’d face scrutiny. Jealousy. Judgment. If he ignored Thomas’s words, he’d always wonder.
So Rhys had chosen to go and had sworn to himself not to touch the woman Amaia would have grown into unless he wassure. Unless she was absolutely, without a doubt, the other half his wild soul was endlessly yearning for.
It’d taken him twelve days to find her, and less than sixty seconds to recognize that his world was never going to be the same again.
Chapter Two
Amaia clicked off the TV and dropped the remote with an overly heavy sigh. She couldn’t remember being so bored. Nothing on any of her watchlists looked appealing. Her gaze slid to the phone resting beside her, within her peripheral vision. It had been quiet all day. If she discounted useless notifications from her social media, it had been quiet for over a day.
She felt the urge to check her email again and told herself to resist. None of the places where she’d submitted her résumé had even said they’d respond via email, so there was no sense stalking it. And it was weeks too soon to be looking for any sort of contact from the unemployment agency. None of that knowledge eased the sense of restlessness inside her. Neither did the awareness that she needed to stay in and basically do nothing, instead of going out into the world and risking spending money.
It was nearly noon, the weather was nice, and suddenly she was craving an iced coffee. She lived close enough to downtown that she could walk to at least four different coffee shops. Saving gas money, however, did not justify spending other money.
Her gaze drifted toward her living room window, obscured by slanted horizontal blinds.If I go out, I might run into him again…That was a terrible reason. Worse than terrible. Not only had she humiliated herself in front of that nameless man, but she’d dreamt of him both nights since. The kinds of dreams she couldn’t shake. The kinds of dreams that left her body aching when she woke, her toes curling into the bedsheet as her thighs pressed together in search of relief.
Amaia groaned out loud and shoved to her feet. She had been reduced to sitting in her living room, staring into space, and fantasizing about a stranger!The sexiest stranger on theplanet.Which did not matter. She knew less about him than she did most popular actors, and she didn’t get all hot and bothered over them.I’ve never met any of them, either.Did literally running into a man and stammering like a fool before promptly running away count as meeting? Unlikely.
Her phone lit up before she could ponder that any further, and she swiped at the screen, her restless thoughts fleeing as hope surged. “Hello?” She deflated like a popped balloon at the automated voice and its regurgitated speech about her supposedly overdue car warranty. Damn spam calls. “That settles it,” she muttered to herself as she tucked her phone into her back pocket. “I’m getting that iced coffee.”
Amaia had accepted she was being emotional before she made it beyond her block. She could have turned around and dragged herself back into that apartment and forced herself to endure the original plan. But she wasn’t going to get evicted over a five-dollar drink, and sometimes a woman needed a pick-me-up. Even if she had to get it for herself.
Her feet came to a stop just shy of the next intersection, a depressing thought whispering through her head.I always have to get it for myself.It hadn’t been that way when she was younger. Her mother had done her best to be there, even while she juggled multiple jobs. Amaia suspected it was that exact overworking tendency that had really killed her mother too. Surely, if her mother hadn’t been so tired, she wouldn’t have succumbed to her sickness. Not at her age. Not without other complications.
Someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to stumble and jerking her out of her thoughts. “Hey!”
The man—taller than her, but most definitely not her sexy stranger—twisted toward her and narrowed his eyes. His upper lip curled back in distaste and he took a step closer. “You got a problem?”
Amaia balked at him. “You walked into me,” she said. “At least apologize.”
He snorted. “Apologize? Bitch, you shouldn’t have been in my way.” He swept his arms out as he spoke, the lightweight jacket he wore emphasizing his movement. The motion also revealed a peek of what looked to be several tattoos on his upper arms.
Another man, who had been ahead of him but had apparently stopped walking, approached them. He had tattoos all around his neck, disappearing beneath his t-shirt, and half a piece of red licorice sticking out of his mouth. “There a problem?” The nearly identical question sent alarm bells ringing in Amaia’s head.
Amaia drew a breath.
