by Bianca Cole
He shouldn’t be in the city. Shifters aren’t allowed to mingle with humans in New York, unlike other cities further south.
For the second time, I let my gaze dip down his tight muscled chest, framed in a white t-shirt. My mind runs wild. He’s attractive—more attractive than any man I’ve ever seen.
I bring my gaze back to his, and he’s still staring at me. The way his lips curve into a smirk tells me he’s exactly like any of the shifter assholes I’ve come across before. This shifter thinks he can take whatever the hell he wants because he’s stronger and more powerful than us.
The danger in his eyes makes my stomach knot. I’ve been bartending here for three years, longer than I’d hoped. In those three years, I’ve come across guys just like him.
Although the only difference between him and the men I’ve encountered before is how hot he is, his cockiness is justified, I guess.
I avert my gaze from his and turn my attention to a man waiting to order another round. “How can I help you?” I ask.
He sways slightly on the stool he’s sitting on, warning me he is already drunk. “How about a night you won’t forget, darling?” he asks.
“I’m working, sorry,” I say, hoping my subtle rejection is enough to get him to leave me alone.
“At least give me your number so I can take you out,” he says, leaning forward.
I shake my head. “It’s against company policy I’m afraid.”
He grabs my hand, making me flinch. “Don’t be a fucking prude.”
Fuck.
I really could have done without a customer like this tonight. I glance over at Alex, hoping he may help me out, but he’s too engrossed in a conversation with a young woman. When I bring my gaze back to the asshole trying to hit on me, my heart skips a beat.
The shifter from before is standing behind him with his eyes fixed on me. I can see the rage dancing to life in the light blue depths. The rage twisting his features is as clear as day. My heart pounds hard and fast. The look in his eyes spells trouble.
A shudder runs down my spine as I realize exactly how huge he is. There’s no doubt he is a shifter.
He towers over the man on the stool, tapping him on the shoulder. “Leave the lady alone,” he growls, his voice full of dangerous rage. I can’t understand why I feel it right to my core. A pulse of unexplainable desire for the man protecting me from this asshole hits me.
“Who the fuck do you—”
He stops speaking the moment he turns to look at him and nods his head. I watch as he jumps off the stool, leaving behind his drink. The guy sways a little as he rushes away, glancing back once at the shifter who told him to leave me alone.
The shifter sits down on the stool in front of me. I meet his gaze, and my body heats. He is utterly beautiful.
“What can I get you?” I ask, focusing on the counter and wiping it down. This shifter shouldn’t be in here, it’s against council rules. Rules of the council dictate we should alert them to shifter presence, but I’m not a snitch. As long as he keeps to himself, I will be civil and serve him.
I know that’s unlikely though, shifters that break the rules and enter New York City are here to cause trouble.
“A beer,” he rumbles, placing his large hands down on the counter.
“Coming up,” I say, avoiding eye contact with him. I wish he hadn’t decided to sit so close to me. It’s distracting. He smells like pine and musk—pure masculinity. It’s intoxicating.
His gaze burns a hole into me as I move away to get a glass for his beer.
My hands are shaking. I pull his pint, keeping my eyes focused entirely on the glass. The last thing I want is to drop it the moment our eyes meet. He makes me more nervous than any patron I’ve had before.
Even though I’m not looking at him, I can feel his gaze tracking my every movement. It’s a very odd sensation.
“There you go,” I say, setting the drink down in front of him and glancing up again for the first time since he sat down.
His bright blue eyes are flecked with bright gold, making my heart accelerate. “Thanks.” He clenches his jaw as he grabs the glass, his finger brushing against mine as it wraps around it.
I gasp as a shock of electricity pulses right through me.
His gaze remains fixed on me as I take a step backward, letting go of the glass.
What the hell was that?
He watches me, but the cocky smirk is no longer twisting his lips. The severity of his gaze threatens to undo me as I move to the other end of the bar, trying to escape him. It feels impossible. Everywhere I move, I feel his gaze follow me.
My heart is hammering at a thousand miles an hour, and I don’t know why. Particularly considering I barely have time for men, I’ve never even taken that milestone and slept with one yet. This guy has hardly said two words to me, and I can feel my body blazing into a hot mess.
It’s not like me at all to get worked up over a guy like this. It makes zero sense. Sure, he’s hot, but I’ve seen plenty of hot guys in my time.
This night is going worse than usual, and I can’t wait for it to be over.
3
Rhys
My mate.
I never thought this day would come. My wolf is straining to break free, and it takes all my willpower to hold him back. The last thing I want here is to make a scene.
I remain seated at the bar, staring at my beer, which I haven’t even tasted yet. Right now, alcohol is probably a terrible idea. She’s so close to me, prancing around behind the bar. I couldn’t take my eyes off her at first, and now I’m worried if I look at her again, I’ll snap.
The scent of her arousal is bleeding into the air. It has been ever since she set eyes on me. The bond is beginning to affect her, increasing the scent with every moment that ticks past. I can sense both her confusion and embarrassment, particularly since her cheeks have flushed bright pink.
A human can’t understand this bond. It’s only something that makes sense to a shifter. Some humans have gone insane after mating to shifters, especially if the shifter breaks the bond and rejects his mate.
If my beta, Jackson, were here, he’d tell me that’s what I need to do. Break the bond to the beautiful redhead woman trying to keep her distance at the other end of the bar. My wolf, on the other hand, believes that’s bullshit, and I’m inclined to agree. She’s utterly stunning.
I smile as she seems to move further away from me, trying desperately to keep her distance. She couldn’t escape me if she tried. I’d hunt her down—or at least, my wolf would.
Despite knowing it’s a bad idea to drink right now, I take a sip of my beer, hoping it will calm my firing nerves. I’ve got to come up with a plan to deal with this, but I can hardly get my brain to work.
All the blood in my body has rushed south. It’s fucking uncomfortable sitting here with my cock straining against the zipper of my pants.
I’ve never felt desire like this before in my life. It’s a wild, uncontrollable sensation that makes me feel so out of control. I feel like a damn pubescent wolf, ready to shoot my load in my pants. I grit my teeth together, clenching the glass so hard I know it will smash if I’m not careful.
She walks right past me to serve another guy at the end of the bar. I bring my eyes up to follow her, and when I see her smile at the guy, I snap. The glass shatters in my hands, and she jumps a mile in the air.
My skin slices open on the cut glass, and I relish the pain. It helps calm the rage inside of me. I know how dangerous this situation is for every damn person in here. That’s all it takes—one innocent smile at a customer, and I’m ready to tear him apart.
Blood trickles onto the bar as she turns to face me, eyes widening at the gruesome sight. It may look bad, but I’ve had much worse. It hardly fucking hurts at all.
She gasps as she rushes over to me. The girl doesn’t realize how dangerous it is for her to get anywhere near me. She sets her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “You need medical help. You are bleeding
all over my bar.”
I smirk at that. The girl is more worried about her bar than my hand. “Do you have a medical kit?” I grumble, trying to keep my canines hidden as they have grown to full length now. I sound like a senseless idiot, but it’s the only choice I’ve got.
Any asshole in here could call the council on me, and I’d have to run. King or not, if I get caught flouting the rules, I get punished.
That’s why I picked this back-alley bar, as it’s the kind of place people who don’t want to get caught go—people who have something to hide from the council too.
She nods her head. “Yeah, it’s in the back. I’ll—”
I stand from the bar and move toward the hatch into the bar. “I’ll take care of it myself.”
She steps in the way of the hatch and shakes her head. “Only staff allowed behind the bar.”
I hold my hand up for her to see the extent of the cut. “Even when there’s an emergency?”
Her face pales at the sight of blood, and she steps away, nodding her head. “It’s in the kitchen on the wall,” she says.
I step past her, and it’s almost impossible to control my urges this close, but I have to. The need to claim her is clawing at me every second I’m in her presence. My wolf wouldn’t give a damn that the bar is full, he’d plow into her right over the bar for everyone to see. Show everyone who owns her.
I try to hold my breath in an attempt not to scent that sweet jasmine coming from her skin and hair. She’s divine.
I feel her follow me, and I tense. The moment we’re alone back here, I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep control. My wolf is fighting me every step of the way here. He wants out. He wants to claim her. It’s too dangerous not only for her but for me.
“On the left,” she says, her voice small and quiet.
I open the door to the left and step inside, hoping she stays at a safe distance from me. The kitchen is too fucking cramped. I can hardly breathe in here. Every inhale I take sets my teeth on edge.
My hand is already starting to heal, which will freak her out. I grab the first aid kit quickly, hoping she doesn’t try to help me.
“Let me,” she says, reaching for the box.
I clench my jaw and hold myself back as she comes so close. I can practically taste her arousal in the air.
A soft gasp escapes her lips as she notices my wound already healing, and it goes right to my cock. The thought of her gasping while I roughly take her against this wall is the only thing on my mind right now.
“Didn’t you know what you were dealing with?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at her and steps away to put some distance between us.
She already knows I’m a shifter. I could see it in her eyes when she first saw me. Fear and intrigue—something I’m more than used to seeing.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she mutters, getting a bandage out of the medical kit.
I watch her as she walks toward me, flicking a strand of red hair over her shoulder. “Give me your hand.”
I raise a brow. “I’m not sure I need it anymore, are you?”
She shakes her head. “Unless you want everyone in there to know what you are, then you’ll let me put a bandage on your hand.” Her beautiful green eyes almost sparkle in the bright spotlights lighting the kitchen.
I feel my canines sharpening just looking at her. Wolves that mate with humans can do severe damage, especially if the wolf gets out of control during the mating. I’m not exactly known for my self-control when my wolf comes to the surface.
She grabs my hands, tensing as electricity pulses through the both of us—a sign of the mating bond. Her eyes widen as they meet mine. “What is that?”
I tilt my head to the side. “What?”
She shakes her head, trying to ignore this connection between us. It will be impossible. Our connection is unbreakable from her side, but not from mine.
As king, my people will expect me to break the bond. The moment that thought passes through my mind, my wolf strains to break free. He’s not having any of it. He wants to claim her here and now so no one can stand in our way.
My heart pounds against my rib cage as she slowly binds my now healed hand. “This seems a little counterproductive, don’t you think?” I ask.
She sucks in a deep breath, licking her bottom lip in a way that winds me up. “If you don’t want the council turning up here, no.”
I laugh. “I’m pretty sure everyone in your bar knows I’m not human, princess.”
She tenses. “Don’t call me that.”
I smirk. “What should I call you then?”
She doesn’t answer, biting the inside of her cheek.
I close my hand around hers tightly. My mate meets my gaze. Her cheeks are a pretty pink as her arousal bleeds into the air. It surrounds me. It overcomes every sense and smell in the damn bar. “What’s your name, princess?”
She narrows her eyes at me, and the fight blazing in her fiery green irises tells me she would be an exciting conquest. She’s the kind of woman who won’t just lay down and take it. She will make me work for her submission, exactly how I like it.
I shouldn’t be thinking like that. I should be thinking about breaking the bond and getting the fuck out of this city now.
“I told you not to call me that.” She sets her hands on her hips.
She’s surprisingly feisty, considering she knows that I’m a shifter. I could tear her limb from limb if I wanted. Not that I’d ever hurt her—she’s my mate.
“If you don’t tell me your name, I can’t exactly call you anything else, can I?”
She drops my hand as she finishes fastening the bandage. “There. Finished. You don’t need my name.”
Her defiance both excites and irritates me. “My name is Rhys, by the way.”
She searches my eyes, wondering whether to give me her name. I’m sure she gets loads of creeps coming onto her here. The thought sets my blood boiling.
“Anastasia,” she mutters, so quiet that some people might not hear it. As a wolf, my senses are second to none. Her name is as beautiful as the rest of her.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Anastasia,” I say, making her turn a deeper color of red.
She nods her head toward the exit of the kitchen. “Yeah, as I said, I’m not supposed to allow anyone other than staff back here.”
I growl at her insinuation to leave, but I’m not a hundred percent sure if it was me growling or my wolf.
Her eyes widen at the sound, as I step toward her. The fear radiating from her practically overwhelms the scent of her arousal. My wolf is straining to grab her, rip that skimpy little skirt in two and bury my cock deep in that sweet pussy of hers. I want to claim her as my own because she is mine.
The sensible side of me knows not to act too quickly. I need to get some distance from my mate. Distance will give me the time to think this through properly, without my wolf fighting me.
As I move to slip past her back into the main bar, she bumps into me. I feel my wolf take control and grab her suddenly—my fingertips dig into her hips harder than they should.
She gasps, lips parting temptingly. “W-what are you doing?”
Fuck knows what I’m doing. My wolf is fucking fighting me. I let my lips move toward hers slowly and softly kiss her. It’s chaste and quick and not what my wolf wanted. “Thank you, princess,” I breathe, before slipping back into the corridor and heading back to the bar.
She probably thinks I’m fucking insane, kissing her like that. Maybe I am. I take my seat on the stool and glance up to see her return.
Her cheeks flush a pretty pink, and my wolf loves that we are the reason. I watch her grab an old cloth and wipe up my blood from the counter before taking the shattered beer glass. Her hips sway from side to side, tempting me as she moves away from me.
It takes every ounce of control to tip back my beer, before standing and turning around. I need to get out of this bar, taking my first few steps away from the bar are painful. I can’t stay here an
y longer. My wolf isn’t in his right frame of mind, and neither am I.
I fight the temptation to turn back and glance at her one more time, knowing that might be the last straw. Instead, I open the door and slip out onto the street, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself and my wolf.
I need to shift and run away, never to return. My wolf doesn’t agree. He’s fighting me every damn step I take away from her. Something tells me this is going to be a long fucking night.
4
Anastasia
That guy, Rhys, has got me on edge tonight. One minute he was there, sipping on his beer. The next, I glanced up to see him walking out of the bar. I couldn’t understand why I felt so upset that he just got up and left. We shared one peck on the lips. I’m not sure what I hoped would happen.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I shoulder the heavy bag of trash and open the door. Alex never gives me a hand with it, no matter how heavy it gets.
It’s not cold, but a shiver runs through me the moment I enter the alleyway. It’s been an hour since Rhys left the bar, but I feel on edge. A strange sense that someone is watching me passes over me as I move toward the trash cans.
Maybe I’m just unhinged and fucking exhausted right now.
I set down the heavy bag and quickly open the lid of the trash can, before chucking the bag inside. When I turn back around, the shifter is standing there. I let out a yelp in shock, taking a step backward and hitting right into the trash can.
Rhys’s broad shoulders almost take up half the alleyway, making it feel impossible to get passed him and back inside.
“What are you doing?” I ask, pressing myself harder against the trash can. The fact it stinks and is dirty as hell doesn’t register. I move to the side and start to back further down the alleyway.
He follows slowly, eyes flickering with that same intensity as he tracks my every movement. I gasp as my back hits the alley wall.
“Stay back,” I say, realizing I’ve got nowhere to go right now. This shifter has me trapped in a small, confined space. Our quick, chaste kiss in the kitchen was unexpected and wrong for so many reasons. At the same time, as Rhys stalks toward me, all I can think about is a repeat happening right here. I want him to kiss me harder and longer. I want it more than I can understand.