Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
It’s a spectacular night and the patio is quiet with only a few people talking softly. I grab us a table in the corner under the strung up golden Christmas lights that are the color of fireflies. The music is quieter out here and I’ll be able to hear every word that my beautiful mate says.
We get comfortable at our table and my bear starts to chill out now that our mate is safely in front of us once again.
That fluttering in my chest is back now that I’m gazing into my girl’s beautiful green eyes. She’s so gorgeous. Every time I look at her, I’m stunned by her beauty. She’s literally breathtaking.
“They seemed upset,” she says as she wraps her hands around her mug and looks at me. “Is it because of the questions I was asking?”
“They just want to put all of that behind them. We came here to move on and start over with hard work, mates, families, peace, and quiet. You know? Put the violence behind us. Enjoy our lives for once.”
She drops her eyes to her beer, looking contemplative as she takes my words in.
“I’d like to ask you to drop the article you’re writing,” I say, feeling my heart start to sink. What if she says no? What if my mate and I can’t see eye to eye? What would that mean for us?
I shudder, not even wanting to think about that.
“That’s a pretty big ask,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “I don’t even know you.”
“We’re mates.”
“Says the strange guy I just met in the bar. How do I know you’re not some conman? What if you’re playing me? How do I even know you’re a shifter? Is your name even Cameron? What if you slipped something into my drink and I’m hallucinating all of this? Huh? What if I wake up tied to a radiator in a basement? Huh? Huh?!?”
“Whoa, that’s a lot of questions.”
She’s starting to panic as her eyes dart around the patio. “I’ve never met a shifter in my life and the first one I meet says I’m his mate? I don’t think so! Are you even a shifter?”
I flex my arm and she swallows hard as she watches my bicep with wide eyes. “Do I look like a shifter?”
“I’ll admit you’re… very gorgeous. And big. And your muscles are making my heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings, but what if it’s all…”
She keeps rambling on as a low rumbling gets my attention. Two motorcycles turn into the bar’s parking lot as my Kodiak bear perks up in alert.
I get a bad feeling while I follow the two men with my eyes as they park.
No…
My stomach drops when I see the gang’s name written on the back of their leather cuts.
Lone Wolf Mercenaries.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen that name. It hasn’t been long enough.
The rank smell of wet dog hits my nose and my bear lets out a low warning growl. He creeps close to the surface and this time, I don’t hold him back. I keep him close and ready.
“And do I even want a mate?” Mary is rambling on, her voice racing. “I’m a career woman. At least, I think I am. I want kids someday, but do I want them now? I guess I would if I could but—”
“Mary,” I snap to get her attention. “It’s time to be quiet and listen to me.”
Her wide eyes dart over to mine, but thankfully, her mouth stops moving.
“Go back into the bar and sit with my brothers.”
“What? Why?”
“Those two bikers in the parking lot are here for you.”
She looks over her shoulder at them and then turns back, shaking her head. “Impossible. I’ve never seen them before in my life.”
I haven’t seen those two before either, but I know who they’re here for. I keep my eye on them as they turn off their Harleys and stand up. The big one has long hair and a spider tattoo on his neck. The smaller one looks even deadlier with a bald head and three parallel scars running along it, probably courtesy of some long dead shifter.
“Listen closely,” I whisper to her. “The Lone Wolf Mercenaries were Dylan Burton’s mercenary group and they’re here for you. Word must have gotten back to them that you’ve been snooping around asking about them.”
It’s starting to sink in. I can tell because the color drains from her face and she looks like she’s going to be sick.
“Those scary men are here for me?”
“Not men,” I tell her. “Wolf shifters.”
“Oh my God!” she says as her hands start to shake. “I’m going to die. I can’t fight! I couldn’t even carry three beers without spilling them. Oh crap! I can’t run in these boots!! Why did I have to buy them so freaking small? The ones in my size weren’t on sale and I couldn’t—”