Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(19)

“Lowlifes.” Shania strolled across the room and leaned against my hexagonal desk, propping her elbows on its worn surface. “Aeric is ditching me tonight—he and Wyatt are going to the track.”

“For car races?” I clarified—Aeric was big into cars. When Shania nodded, I continued, “I thought you enjoyed watching him race.”

“Yep. I was tempted to go with them, but then I realized, nah, they haven’t had a night out with just the two of them in a week. They’ve gotta keep the spark to their bromance alive,” Shania joked.

Shania was the best. She was hilarious to work with, but most importantly, she didn’t feel threatened by Aeric’s relationship with his packmates—which, usually, humans didn’t understand because of how deep packmate relationships went.

Romantic relationships between humans and supernaturals were typically drama filled. It was hard for humans to understand how culturally and physically different supernaturals were, especially when we liked to encourage the fairy tale versions of our races as much as possible.

“I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.” I hitched my grin so it was a little lopsided as I rested my hands on my desk.

“For sure.” Shania stretched her arms behind her back. “I’m starving. Time for my lunch break. Moira is snoozing in her office if you need her. Her snoring is getting louder—I thought we had a weasel in the stock room again for about half an hour until I figured out it was just Moira.”

“I have a working theory that Moira is the reason why the werewolves only staff the welcome center with humans—because we can’t hear Moira’s snoring quite as well.”

“I’d believe it.” Shania slapped the desk for emphasis, then leaned over the top. “Could you grab my inhaler for me? It’s in my drawer.”

“Sure. Is your asthma acting up again?” I eyed her for any sign of breathing issues as I flicked open the drawer that she stored all of her personal belongings in, and handed her an inhaler.

I was pretty sure Shania and Aeric were in it for the long haul and would end up together forever. It was beautiful, but in a way a little sad because Shania would never be able to take the risk of trying to change thanks to her asthma.

Any kind of health issue that left you in less-than-perfect health was a huge liability when attempting the change, and almost always ended up in death.

And that meant Aeric was likely to outlive her, and would have a huge part of his life—like Pack runs—that Shania would never be able to join in.

It was a testament to the strength of their relationship that this prospect never seemed to bother either of them, and Shania was beyond understanding and downright amazing when it came to the things she couldn’t do as a human.

“My lungs are fine right now,” Shania assured me. “It’s more for Aeric’s reassurance than mine. I swear, if my breath hitches for even one second he’s all over me thanks to his werewolf hearing. Okay, I’m out.” She angled herself away from me, but before she pushed off the desk the front door opened and the bell hanging above the door gave a very muted but cheerful jangle.

I fixed my smile so it was appropriately welcoming and immovable. “Welcome to Timber Ridge! How can I help you?”

Two gorgeous, long-legged women sauntered deeper into the welcome center. With their perfect complexions, lean builds, and perfectly braided hair—one was a brunette, the other a blond—they looked like a more perfect version of Camper Barbie. I wasn’t all that surprised when they met my gaze with intensely blue eyes.

Ahhh, yes. Werewolves.

“On second thought, I think I’ll stay around for this.” Shania cackled as the pair legged it up to my desk.

The brunette eyed me and pursed her lips, looking like a model for an outdoorsman clothes catalogue. “We were told by a friend that we had to stop at the welcome center when visiting Timber Ridge as soon as we arrived.”

I had a hunch I knew exactly why they were here, but it was bad manners to assume. So I clasped my hands together and did my best imitation of a museum guide. “That’s wonderful to hear! Can I ask what brings you to Timber Ridge?”

The girls exchanged looks. “Alpha Greyson of the Northern Lakes Pack,” they said together.

It’s always Greyson, always! Even though we have enough handsome male werewolves we could have our own supernatural version of The Bachelor, everyone is just interested in Greyson!

“Ah.” My smile stayed professional, but I started pawing around in the cavernous underside of my desk. “And why are you here for Alpha Greyson?”

“To see if either of us are his mate,” the blond said.

“Of course, Alpha Greyson and his missing mate are a large draw to Timber Ridge,” I said.

Because Greyson needed another thing to make him into an even more desirable guy, he had a mate bond.

Mate bonds were half rooted in werewolf instinct and half rooted in wild magic itself. It was a soul deep connection forged between a werewolf and his/her mate—typically another werewolf, but occasionally mate bonds formed between werewolves and humans, shifters, or other supernaturals. All supernaturals except werewolf hunters, that was.

Mate bonds usually ended up romantic—although there were cases of platonic mate bonds—and emotionally and mentally connected the two mates in a profound way.