by Kenya Wright
“Why?”
“We’re not that tasty. Too much Crystal Lake water.” I turned around and headed their way. My nerves frazzled on edge. Even though this was the first time he showed up, it was the fourth time this bunch had visited the diner. The whole town had begun gossiping about them.
But how could this boring town not gossip about the only exciting thing that’s happened here in weeks?
All six of them could’ve served as a horny woman’s wet dream. It would’ve been hard for any woman to pick just one. They were big, muscled guys. Blond. Dark-haired. Redhead. Bald. All shades of complexion—tanned to pale, honey-colored to brown. And their eyes seemed to hold a sort of magic. Their gazes lured and teased, haunted, and sometimes I would swear they glowed.
I approached their table.
The gorgeous men had been in deep conversation, but when I arrived, they went silent and focused on their silverware. This was new. Usually, they smiled and told me a few jokes. Sometimes, the blond one with the blue eyes even flirted, kissing my hand and bowing as he left.
Wasn’t his name Blaze? I think so.
Regardless, this time was different. And it was because of the new guy—Mr. Dark and Dangerous with the intense stare. Suddenly, their forks and knives were more interesting than me. In fact, the only one that turned my way was Mr. Dark and Dangerous.
“Hello. I’m Imani.” I pulled out my pen. “I was told you wanted your usual. Plates stacked with steaks. Medium rare. No sides. No onions. No peppers. Anything else?”
Mr. Dark and Dangerous deep voice held an edge as he spoke one word. “No.”
“What would you all like to drink?”
The others didn’t turn her way.
O-kay.
He answered for them. “Large glasses of water, please.”
“No beer or soda?”
The blond one, Blaze, had been watching his fingers as he tapped out a beat. At the mention of beer, he turned those lovely blues my way. “Beer does sound good. Make it three for me.”
Someone kicked him under the table. The silverware and old vase of plastic flowers shook.
“No beer.” Mr. Dark and Dangerous frowned. “The waters and steaks will be fine.”
“Okay.” I walked off, but not before hearing Mr. Dark and Dangerous groan in annoyance and tell his friends, “She smells so good. We don’t come here anymore, or I’m going to end up fucking her and then eating her afterward.”
A few of them laughed.
I was glad that none of them could see my face flush.
Chapter 2
Aiden
The waitress’s scent drifted toward me, promising such delights. I yearned to bury my face in her hair and lose myself in the fragrance. My cock grew hard.
I reached my hand under the table and changed its position in my jeans.
My fangs threatened to pierce through my gums and reveal themselves. The waitress walked off. I ogled at her lush ass.
“Want!” Conri, my wolf twisted and groaned inside of me. Never had a fatal triggered such a reaction. Usually, my beast and I found fatal women too soft and fragile.
“Want now!” my beast howled.
No, not this one. She’s fatal.
My nostrils flared, inhaling Imani’s scent some more. Her pheromones tantalized. They reminded me of Clary sage mixed with fresh ginger. The Clary sage exuded a sweet herbal aroma while the hint of ginger added a lemony, earthy, root-like fragrance. My body drummed with hunger. And food was the last thing on my mind.
She was the lamb, and I was the hungry wolf desperate to eat her.
I licked my lips.
“Want!” Conri roared in my head.
No!
I forced the beast to calm down.
“She smells so good.” I formed my fingers into fists on the table and glared at my pack. “We don’t come here anymore, or I’m going to end up fucking her and then eating her afterward.”
Several laughed.
Blaze remained silent.
Why is he acting weird?
Every being had a certain odor about them. Scents held memories. A woman with the right one could entice my beast and have me thinking about her all night.
“Want!”
Shut up. She’s fatal.
Usually, I trusted my nose. A werewolf’s sense of smell dominated all shapeshifters and even other moon-touched. It was a hundred times greater than any creature walking this earth, including vampires. Our olfactory system was different. While the fatals’ and witches’ systems consisted of the nose and the nasal cavities, shapeshifters had sensors on their fingertips. And it didn’t matter if we were in human or beast form. Therefore, we were able to use our noses and hands to find other pack members and avoid any enemies. Just from the scent alone, I would know the age and gender of the being.
“Want!”
Although she’d disappeared into the kitchen, the waitress’s scent remained in the air. I inhaled and studied the fragrance.
She’s a young one. Thirty. Definitely female and most certainly fatal. Not one drop of moon-touched blood inside of her.
“Want!”
I’ve got it. Enough!
Something was off today. Never had my beast found a fatal woman’s scent pleasing. They had different pheromones than shapeshifters. Pheromones were chemicals that acted like hormones outside the body of the secreting individual. These chemicals impacted the receiving individual’s behavior.
Why is hers turning me on?
Chemistry played a huge part in the game of attraction. Even laughter caused a person to release endorphins. Therefore, one could laugh someone into bed if they desired.
But a person’s odor was much more different for a werewolf. With the right one, the scent could trigger addiction or even a mating response.
I inhaled the waitress’s fragrance trail.
She’s more than ready to breed. She’ll be ovulating in five days.
A normal ovulation cycle lasted for about 24 hours each month. Once the egg was released from an ovary, it would dissolve within 24 hours if not fertilized. I gripped the edge of the table, instantly yearning to fill her with my seed.
A dark growl left my throat.
The pack studied me.
Blaze curved his lips into an awkward smile. “She has that same effect on me.”
Inside my chest, Conri bared his fangs.
“Relax, Blaze.” I clenched my teeth. “She’s fatal and not for us.”
“But if she’s causing a reaction in us wouldn’t she be for us?”
Blaze’s question pissed me off.
While I was the pack’s Alpha, Blaze was the Beta. Alphas led the pack, made the important decisions, created the rules, and enforced them. Betas were second-in-command— lower ranking than the Alpha and his mate or Luna but held more authority than the other wolves. The last thing I needed was both of the pack’s top leaders being horny over some fatal.
The rest of the pack stared at me, waiting for a response.
I didn’t give them any. With a pack, sometimes an Alpha’s silence said enough. I scanned the old diner instead.
Several feet away an old man put a coin in the jukebox. A rock song played. He coughed into his hands. I could smell the cancer thick inside of his lungs. In a few months, he would be gone. The man turned around. A sad look glazed over his eyes. He gazed at a little boy at the table near him. When the man walked over to the table and sat down, I realized the boy must’ve been his grandson.
The boy looked up at him and smiled.
The grandfather grinned. When the boy turned back to the page he was coloring, the old man’s expression shifted to sadness.
He knows he has cancer. Life comes and goes so fast for these fatals.
“Aiden?” Blaze spoke.
I shifted my attention to my Beta. “What?”
“If the waitress—”
“We don’t mate with fatals. That’s my number one law. You knew this before joining my pack. They’re
too weak and don’t live that long.”
“Some do, after mating with us.”
“Some, but not all.” I leaned my head to the side. “Are you sure you want to roll the dice on something like that?”
Blaze closed his mouth.
I should have never come in here. I knew it would be a problem.
Before walking into Mama Joe’s Grits & Grub, I felt the waitress’s presence. It was strange, making me think I was going crazy or experiencing a mental hallucination. Feminine warmth taunted and whispered for me to come inside. When I opened the diner’s door, I heard Imani’s words as she talked to the older women.
That Clary sage and ginger scent started the seduction. Then, that beautiful voice finished it.
It made me dizzy. By the time I realized what was happening, I rushed the waitress’s way and stopped in front of her. The fatal’s scent clouded my senses. My body ached and longed for her.
I should have turned around.
As if disagreeing, my wolf delivered erotic images to my head as if trying to convince me. A movie played in my mind. The fatal’s curvy body was beneath me, and it was pliable and yielding.
No, Conri. Stop.
My wolf ceased with the erotic film.
There were so many reasons to say no. The waitress was already young in fatal terms. She was too young for me. I just reached a hundred years old.
Why is this little fatal having an influence on me?
“I don’t know what’s going on.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Either way, we don’t return here.”
The rest of the pack nodded. However, Blaze’s beast whined, sounding like a beaten dog. A few people at the table next to us glanced our way, probably wondering who’d brought their pet into the diner.
I don’t like that Blaze wants her too.
“Because she’s ours,” Conri grumbled.
“No. We’re not coming back here.” My words came out as a growl. “Get control of yourself, Blaze.”
“Come on, King,” Blaze said, using my nickname.
I lowered my voice to lethal. “Do not call me that here.”
“I’m sorry.” Blaze made sure not to give me direct eye contact, showing his submission. “I want to return. I love this diner and the steaks.”
On the right of him, Damian laughed. “Yeah. I bet you just want to come back for the steaks.”
Damian was the Delta in the pack—a werewolf in training for Beta position. He organized large hunts and scouted out towns before we arrived. He also served as my protector, keeping me out of harm’s way and having my back when necessary.
“We don’t come back.” I left it at that, not needing to push the topic further.
Damian exchanged looks with the others—Zerab, Sherwin, and Oliver. All four of them clearly found Blaze and my reaction to the waitress amusing.
“Go ahead. Have your laughs.” I kept my view on my Delta, instead of scanning the diner for the lovely waitress. I would’ve rather gazed at her all day, but Alphas had to make sacrifices. Besides, I was the one to make the rule that werewolves couldn’t mate with fatals.
Just look at Damian, don’t look at her. Eat the steaks, and get the fuck out of here.
I let out a long breath and glared at my Delta.
Damian’s short curly hair was the color of blood—cut fresh from a wound. Every time I looked at those strands, I thought of the Mystic Wars.
Those recollections represented old war nightmares. Hundreds of bodies slashed and chewed apart. On the battlefield, the scent of blood filled every inch of air. Severed heads toppled over sliced fingers and torn kneecaps. Werewolves and weretigers battled against werebears.
Finally, all the fighting has stopped.
For the past hundred years, witches ruled over shapeshifters. We hated it. Together, the shapeshifters warred against the witches. We won, and now the witches were the minority, and the shapeshifters returned to the majority. But then, the werebears so full of greed, decided they wanted to control all the shapeshifters. Too bad for them. After finally tasting the sweetness of freedom, I wasn’t having it. I united my pack with others and led us to victory, gaining the nickname, King.
Now, no werebears existed on the planet. And for the first time, shapeshifters walked the earth free.
Imani walked by our table, carrying two chocolate milkshakes. The sweet scent of the ice cream couldn’t compete with her fragrance. My gaze lingered her way. Her wavy black hair looked soft. I could picture my fingers slipping through her silky strands.
Stop it.
I switched my attention back to the pack. Looking at Damian didn’t help, so I focused on Zerab and Sherwin’s conversation.
At 6’6, Zareb was the tallest of us all. He served as the Pack Enforcer. Zareb had dark brown skin and a bald head. Long ago, he was the crown prince of all the werewolves in Ethiopia. Then, the witches arrived. City by city, they decimated every pack. He hid his identity, snuck out of the country, and fled to America. For years he traveled along the west coast searching for a wolf pack that he was comfortable with. In Arizona, he discovered Sherwin.
Sherwin had just split from his pack. They’d been a massive group of Navajo werewolves who aligned with the witches during the war.
And then I met them.
I watched the men now.
Zerab murmured something to Sherwin.
Laughing, Sherwin tossed his long black hair over his shoulder. When one first looked at Sherwin, some might mistake him for a woman. He was slender and of medium height. Bronze skin and long lashes. Sherwin was the only one that was older than me—around two hundred years.
In his old Navajo pack, he was not considered a male. He was two-spirited—the perfect balance between male and female. As his mother was a witch and taught Sherwin about fire magic and herbs that brought healings to magical beings. He became the Shaman of his pack.
Now he served in the same position for us. Not many packs were lucky enough to have a werewolf that could do magic just like a witch.
“Okay, guys. Here we go.” Imani returned with a cart stacked with platters of steaks. Blaze and I rose, helping her lift the plates. Shock hit her face. “Uh. . .thank you, but I’m supposed to be waiting on you.”
“We’ve got it.” Blaze winked at her.
My beast didn’t like that at all. “No, Blaze. Sit.”
Blaze frowned and went back to his seat.
“I’ve got it.” I took the plates from Imani and placed them on the table.
That clary sage and fresh ginger fragrance swirled around her. It made me want to shift and spend the rest of the day, licking at her skin and nibbling her neck.
Her voice was as sweet as her scent. “Thank you.”
Grunting, I grabbed the next plates and brushed my fingers against her soft skin. A streak of heat raced from my arm. This time I struggled with holding in my growl.
Imani gulped.
Did she feel that too?
“Yes,” Conri said. “Mate.”
I shook the stupid notion out of my head, but still, my beast argued.
“Mate.”
Not meaning to, I glared at her.
“Are you okay?” Imani bit her bottom lip.
I didn’t want to say the words out loud, but they came out anyway. “You’re too beautiful to be working here. Someone should be waiting on you, taking care of you, and making sure you never have to lift a thing.”
She grinned. “Maybe one day I’ll be someone’s queen, but that day isn’t today.”
She grabbed two plates full of steaks and set them in front of Zerab and Sherwin.
Although all my wolves had their food in front of them, they all watched Imani’s and my exchange.
“And here’s yours.” She handed the largest plate to me. “I gave you extra, so you wouldn’t end up fucking and eating me. Excuse my language, by the way.”
She heard me. Shit.
My whole pack chuckled to themselves. I eyed them, and the enjoyment en
ded. They turned to their plates and shoveled slabs of meat into their mouths, tearing into the steaks like they were sponge cakes.
I grabbed the plate, set it on the table, and directed my gaze back to her. “I’m sorry you overheard that.”
“That’s okay.” She shrugged. “I’ve heard worse.”
My face turned deadly. “What did they say? I can handle them.”
“Thank you, but they’re long gone, and my ego is healed.” She giggled, smiling broadly in a way that made me think she might be flirting. A few strands of hair fell in front of her face. I wanted to push the hair back behind her ears.
None of that face should be covered.
“Mate.”
Stop it.
Underneath the clary sage and ginger scent was the alluring perfume of lust. She was getting aroused just from standing in front of me. I stifled my own rising desire.
“Okay. . .” She returned her attention to the cart and turned it around. “Let me know if you need anything. Enjoy, guys.”
I frowned as she walked away, that lush ass jiggling under her uniform. I sat down and caught Blaze watching the waitress too.
“Kill him,” Conri roared.
No. He’s our Beta.
“Kill him.”
She’s not our mate. Calm down. She’s fatal.
Letting out an exasperated breath, I sliced one of my steaks and stuffed the piece into my mouth.
Damian dabbed a napkin on his lips, wiping away the bloody juices from the steak. “Yeah. We can’t come back here anymore. Both of you are acting like she’s a Luna. I don’t get it.”
A Luna was the Alpha’s mate, usually the most powerful female werewolf in the pack. Most werewolves couldn’t help themselves around Lunas due to their enchanting strength. However, since the Mystic Wars, the number of Lunas decreased from a hundred to only five on the planet. Their Alphas guarded them with their whole pack. Even worse, the number of female werewolves was barely ten.
Blaze drank some of his water and set it on the table. “Maybe, this is a good time to have that talk about your rule.”
“Not now.” I shoveled half a steak into his mouth.
“Mate.”
Stop it.
It had already been hard enough to battle with Blaze about the rule. For a year, the Beta had been fighting my ban on breeding with fatals, hoping that our pack could spread their legacies in alternative ways.