by Grey, Aspen
I heard him shout in protest as I headed outside, but I was already gone. So what if we got a little more backed up? There was something much, much more important at stake.
I leapt out of the truck and raced around to the customer side probably looking like a madman as I scanned the crowd for him. I sniffed the air. The scent was definitely coming from somewhere near the back of the line, but there were so many people I couldn’t get a good look. So I raced down the sidewalk, drawing even more stares from the people waiting who were probably wondering why the chef was racing around and not cooking their meals, and as I reached the end of the line, I saw him.
Oh, my lord…
There he was. The boy from the White Swallow, standing in line, completely ambiguous as to what was happening to me. The wind was blowing in hard from the ocean, which meant I could pick up his scent a lot easier than he could pick up mine. I couldn’t just rush up to him and start proclaiming myself to him. He had to smell me too. He had to realize what I already knew. So, I began to walk slowly towards him, waiting for his nose to twitch.
Come on, I thought, ignoring the hushed whispers around me of the customers who obviously could see that something was going on.
I was conscious of every single step I took forward, as though each one was taking me closer to an enormous moment, an event horizon in my life from which there was no turning back. It was like one of those scenes in a movie where the camera focuses on the person’s feet and then goes into slow-mo before cutting back to a close-up of their face. I felt like I was in a movie—maybe, if I was lucky, everything would work out in the end like they always did.
Chapter Eleven
Ollie
After last night’s events with Arthur, I was absolutely starving. We’d stayed up late talking, fallen asleep, woken up for another unbelievable round of mind-blowing sex and passed out yet again. I was still dick drunk when I woke up giggling and nuzzling up against his strong chest, happier than I’d ever been in the knowledge that I’d found my fated-mate.
“I don’t believe it,” I had told him as we stared at each other.
“You don’t?”
“I mean—I do,” I corrected myself. “But I don’t. You know?”
Arthur smiled, melting my heart. “I do know. It’s pretty incredible.”
His eyes had closed again and I’d seen just how tired he was and volunteered to go down to the taco stand and grab us some breakfast tacos. He’d protested at first (fake protested) but then gave in, so I’d thrown on some clothes and headed out.
I’d heard great things about the truck, Taco-Gasms, but hadn’t been there yet. I figured it was a risk to bring my new fated-mate a meal that I didn’t even know if it would be good or not, but after everything that had happened in the last twelve hours or so, I was feeling adventurous. But when I got there, I saw a line that made me want to turn around again and head home and make oatmeal.
“Is it always like this?” I asked an old man at the end of the line who looked as though he’d been surfing most of his life and didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.
“Mostly, yeah,” he nodded. “Sometimes you get lucky if it’s hot and everyone’s at the beach, but you can expect to wait a while.”
I contemplated. “Is it worth it?”
“Best tacos in PB,” he replied.
I sighed, glanced at the line and thought about Arthur back at home in my bed. He was probably napping now anyway. It wouldn’t hurt if I took a few more minutes than expected to get back to him.
“All right,” I told the man. “I’ll wait.”
I sighed and stuffed my hands in my pockets when I heard a commotion from the front of the line up by the truck. Somebody was moving around up there, but I couldn’t see what was going on.
Probably a crazy homeless person, I thought, looking down at the pavement and counting the cracks in the concrete for something to do to pass the time. But the sound kept getting closer, and I looked up to see a man in a white chef’s coat walking up the sidewalk towards us—towards…me.
His eyes were fixed on me, and it didn’t take me more than a second to realize who it was: my savior from the White Swallow—the man who’d gotten himself thrown out on my behalf.
He’s…the chef here?
His eyes were fixed on me, brimming with intent and focus, and as he stepped closer and I smelled him, I felt as though an icicle had buried itself in my chest.
No!
A shot of horror invaded my system, causing a surge of adrenaline that spiked my fight-or-flight reflex into overdrive. My legs began to tingle and the urge to shift and race away was so powerful that I almost listened.
It’s impossible… I thought as he came closer.
He was beautiful. He was the reason I had stripped out of my pants last night before Arthur arrived to reveal my hard cock. He was who I was thinking about before Arthur and his scent showed up.
It can’t be!
He was looking at me not like someone who simply found me cute or wanted to get with me; he was looking at me like someone who knew something—something I knew too but could not accept.
The man walking towards me was also my fated-mate.
IT CAN’T BE!
An invisible hammer struck me from above, nailing me into place so I could not move as he came to a halt in front of me. There was no denying it as his scent washed over me. The jaw-dropping, boner-inducing alpha staring down at me was my fated-mate.
“Hi,” he said with a voice so powerful and gentle at the same time. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself last night. My name is Sid.”
I knew what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to open my mouth and reply, extend my hand and smile and nod and say my name. What I wasn’t supposed to do was exactly what I did; stand there like an idiot and stare at him like a dumb girl stares at the killer in a slasher film when she’s about to get the axe.
His nose was working overtime, and I could see the same intensity in his eyes that I saw when I looked at Arthur, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand what the fuck was happening.
“Hello?” he asked.
Say something! I shouted at myself. What are you doing?
It didn’t make sense. Two fated-mates? Half a day ago I didn’t even believe in the concept of fated-mates, and now in that same amount of time I was supposed to believe that I’d found not only one, but two of them?
No…I thought. No, you’ve lost your fucking mind.
I didn’t even open my mouth to speak.
I turned around and ran.
Chapter Twelve
Sid
What the Hell is happening? I thought as I watched the sweet boy, my fated-mate, turn tail and run away from me as fast as he could.
“Hey!” I called after him. “Where are you going?”
But he didn’t respond. He didn’t even slow down. He just kept running, headed up the street and I knew that I only had a few seconds before he took a turn and I lost him. So, I did the only thing I could think of to keep that from happening; I chased him.
“Get out of the way!” I shouted to an oblivious couple who were vaping on the sidewalk and taking up all of the room. The woman turned and sneered at me, moving aside just enough to let me pass.
Rude.
But I didn’t care. She was the last thing on my mind as I raced after my fated-mate who, for reasons I could not comprehend, was running away from me.
Was it something I did without knowing it? All I did was introduce myself!
I’d saved his ass last night in the bar, and it wasn’t like he owed me anything for that, but running away seemed like the total opposite of what you’d do. Had the universe thrown a plot twist at me or something?
I watched as he took a turn down a side street and picked up the pace as I chased after him, pulled along by an invisible string that tied us both together. He had to know it was there—didn’t he? He had to feel it too. I’d seen his nose start working overtime when I approached him, so he’d def
initely picked up my scent.
But if that was true, why was he running?
I took the turn in time to see him glance over his shoulder. When he saw me, a look came over his face that I couldn’t quite interpret. It was a mixture of fright and something like infatuation. My chest twisted and leapt at the same time, causing me to cry out.
“Wait!” I shouted. “I just—I just want to talk to you!”
But the boy didn’t wait. He turned away and kept running.
Fuck, I feel like a stalker!
Not only had I waited for him outside the White Swallow last night, but here I was chasing him down the streets shouting for him to stop.
What the fuck are you doing? I thought. But he’s my fated-mate!
I knew I should stop chasing him, but I just couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. It was like there was a rocket on my back propelling me towards him and there was nothing I could do about it. I rounded another corner and realized he’d led me back to the White Swallow bar where we’d first met.
What are we doing here?
But instead of racing inside like I thought he would, the stunning omega went left around to the back side of the building.
This is insane…he doesn’t want you.
The sense of loss was almost overwhelming as I watched him vanish again around yet another corner. I stopped running and slowed my pace to a brisk walk. I told myself that if he was standing there waiting for me with a “just kidding” look on his face, that I’d continue to believe. But if he was gone…
Don’t think about that!
If he was gone, I’d have to do some real hard thinking on my own about what to do next.
If I could only talk to him!
I braced myself for what I was about to find as I came around the corner of the building, and my heart deflated like a balloon as I saw the empty alley. He was gone.
“Fuck,” I cursed softly as I slumped back against the wall of the opposite building and closed my eyes. “God, Sid, what are you doing?”
Maybe I was insane. Maybe I hadn’t smelled what I’d thought I’d smelled. I mean—if that omega was truly my fated-mate, then why would he be running away from me?
But then again…
Maybe he realized what I realized too and it scared him? Maybe he was already in a relationship or something, and when he smelled me and realized who I was, he panicked?
Don’t be stupid, Sid.
Of course that wasn’t it. He remembered you from the bar the other night, and despite the fact that you’d saved his ass from that gaggle of douchebags, probably thought you were some kind of weirdo stalker (which in a way I was) that had come back to kill him or tell him he owed you sex for the favor you’d done for him last night.
“Fuck!”
Why did you chase him?! Now you scared him off!
But then, something happened. I heard the sound of old hinges squeaking and looked up to see a shoddy door at the top of a flight of stairs open, and for a moment, I allowed myself to hope that it would be my beautiful omega that emerged. But sadly, that wasn’t the case. Instead, it was an angry-looking alpha, obviously ex-military, wearing a pair of jeans, no shirt, with a big “Loyalty” tattoo across his chest.
“Hey, dickhead!” he shouted down at me, obviously on the verge of shifting. “I’m gonna give you one chance to get the fuck out of here before I tear you to pieces. You’ve got five seconds. Five, four…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second!” I called back, my fight instincts surging inside me. If he shifted, I would shift too. I didn’t want a fight with some random dick I didn’t even know, but if someone put my life in danger, I wouldn’t back down.
“Three, two…”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m the guy who keeps the weirdos off my mate,” he told me with a tough smile.
His mate? I thought. Then, a figure appeared behind him in the door. My beautiful boy. My fated-mate.
A sickening realization came over me as I looked at him. My silly theory had actually been correct. My fated-mate was in a relationship already and that’s why my scent terrified him. And his boyfriend was the grunt staring down at me.
He shook his head at me as though I’d just made an incredible mistake. “One.”
Chapter Thirteen
Arthur
“One,” I said, finishing off the short countdown I’d given to Ollie’s stalker, who according to him, had chased him all the way back here from the taco truck and was apparently the chef as well.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ollie whispered behind me, a hand on my back. “It’s—it’s not that big of a deal.”
But it was a big deal. Nobody made a move on my Ollie, especially not some weirdo stalker that thought it was okay to chase him through the streets of PB.
Should have stayed at work, bucko, I thought as I leapt off the stairs towards him and shifted midair. I took my panther form and watched as he did the same, shredding out of his chef’s whites into a strong cat with jet-black fur, gray eyes and fierce white teeth. If there was one thing being a SEAL taught you, it was to know and respect your enemy and be aware of what they were capable of, and this guy, despite filling my heart with hatred, wasn’t someone to take lightly.
I hit the ground in front of him and slid to the side as he raked the air with his claw, aiming the attack right at my neck. He was strong and fast and if he’d found his mark, there was a good chance it could have been a killing blow. I leapt forward in response, taking the opportunity to counterattack, and aimed my fangs at the soft flesh between his shoulder and neck. But this alpha was fast and ducked out of the way, sending me sailing over him. My teeth snapped down on nothing but air.
He rose up as I passed and managed to drive his shoulder into my belly, knocking the wind right out of me. I hit hard and lost my footing and tumbled over and crashed into a pile of trashcans, sending them crashing down around me.
“Stop!” Ollie shouted from the steps. “Stop it, both of you!”
Don’t worry, babe. I thought as I found my footing. He won’t hurt me. Not again.
Anticipating his follow-up attack, I threw myself to the left and lashed out with my right claw. This time, it found its mark and my foe cried out as I tore the flesh of his side and sent him crashing down onto the pavement. He cried out and I jumped in to finish the job, but the guy was fast—I had to give him credit for that—and rolled out of the way just in time.
“Stop, Arthur!” Ollie shouted, and I looked up to see him leaping down the steps two at a time, still in human form, waving his hands frantically. It warmed my heart to see him so concerned for someone, even if the guy was a total nutjob, but he didn’t know what was good for him. Crazy guys like this never understand “no,” and they never know when to quit. If I didn’t kill him, he’d keep coming back for Ollie and he would never be safe.
My enemy readied himself to pounce, and I saw the fury in his eyes and the saliva dripping from his fangs and lips. Even if I wanted to back down (which I didn’t), he wouldn’t let me. We were in this whether Ollie liked it or not—locked in combat and it wouldn’t be over until one of us was dead.
Come on, you bastard!
I stared at him, waiting for his next attack. I watched his body, noticing all the signs in his muscles, his face, his limbs, that would tell me his next move. But just as he was about to spring at me, something terrible happened.
Ollie threw himself between us.
“STOP!” he shouted, throwing his arms in the air like a suspect surrendering to the police.
What are you doing?
I snarled and circled to the side of him to keep my eyes on our attacker, but Ollie moved with me, staring me down the way a parent might stare down their child who was misbehaving. This exposed his back to the psycho I was trying to keep away from him!
I leapt to the side, trying to get around my mate, but no matter where I went, no matter how I moved, he kept himself between me and the invading alpha, leav
ing himself open to attack, which had me so panicked I was about to lose my shit.
I looked past him at my enemy and was shocked to see him shift back to human form.
“Okay,” he said calmly, raising one hand and placing the other over the wound I’d given him. “I’m stopping. Just tell your boy to back off.”
Your boy? I thought. No one tells me what to do, pussy!
That’s what I wanted to say, but I was honestly pretty shocked to see him let his guard down like that. In human form, he was nowhere near as fast as me, and if I was able to get past Ollie, I’d easily tear him to pieces before he was able to shift back. Besides, he was already wounded.
“Back off, Arthur,” Ollie told me, taking a step towards me and placing a hand on my snout.
Why? I thought. Was Ollie really that much of a pacifist that the sight of violence disturbed him to the point where he would sacrifice his own well-being for that of another?
Every instinct from my life, my training as a SEAL and my role as his mate, was telling me to do what was best for Ollie, and that meant shoving him aside and tearing this strange man to pieces. Ollie would be angry with me, of course, but he wouldn’t leave me over it, and more importantly, he’d be safe.
I readied myself.
You have to do what has to be done to protect what’s yours.
But Ollie must have read my mind, as he stepped even closer and wrapped his arms around my head. His embrace was soothing, and he knew what he was doing; he was trying to calm me so I’d forget about the attacker who’d just chased him through the streets and call the police instead or some nonsense like that.
But none of that would work. This had to be handled now and I had to be the one to do it. I shook him off and glared at the alpha who’d been dumb enough to take human form around me. I was ready to attack, but nothing could have prepared me for what Ollie said next.
“Arthur, stop,” he said. “He—he’s my fated-mate.”