Chapter 1

OLIVER

Being one-half of a “perfect pair” wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

For one thing, everyone liked my larger twin better. The girls fell all over Markus for his big, dumb muscles. They didn’t care that I was the brains of the operation and always had been. Even in high school.

Women had been obsessed with my twin brother since we were young, and tonight was no exception.

“You heard from that girl you met the other night?” I called out to Markus, who was sitting across the table from me, making eyes at some woman nearby.

“Hey!” I shouted louder when he didn’t respond, trying to raise my voice above the loud bass of the music. “Markus!”

My brother turned to me, narrowing his eyes. “What?”

I groaned. “Nothing. You... just go.” I flicked my hand, indicating he should follow his instincts and go pick up whichever woman was giving him the right signals.

“But we’re hanging out,” Markus said, indicating between himself and me.

I drank the rest of my beer in a single swallow and got to my feet. “I’m heading home. You go do... her.”

Markus chuckled as he stood up. “Bro, I—”

“I know. I know.” I crossed the space between us and hugged my brother, older than me by a whole four minutes. “Go for it. I’m gonna head home.”

“No, Ollie. Stay. There are a ton of hot chicks here tonight, and you haven’t gone out with anyone since—”

“Forever. I know.” I grinned at my mountain of a brother, though I suspected the grin was a little off-kilter given my mood. “I can’t, Markus. I’m done.” I held up my hands, feeling the all too familiar tug at my heart. I was finished screwing around.

It had been fun for a while. But we’d turned thirty a few months ago, and I was done with this life. I was ready to settle down. I wanted a mate and a family.

Markus wasn’t done, and that was fine. Except... it wasn’t. Not when he was the other half of our perfect pair. His actions were affecting me in a way normal men wouldn’t understand. As a pair, we were bound to each other.

Past. Present. And more importantly, future.

I took a step toward the door, the desire to take another jab at a very touchy subject passing over me. “Can you hurry up and get this out of your system so we can find our mate?”

Markus growled at me. “I don’t believe in that perfect pair shit. You know that.”

I laughed at his petulant expression, though the sound was laced with bitterness. “You’re one of a perfect pair, Mark. It doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. Fate believes in it for you, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

I turned away before the heat of my brother’s glare lit my hair on fire.

I left the bar, passing by the bouncers letting people in two at a time. It was midnight, and the night was only just starting. I was tired of it. The scene, the fake smiles, the surface-only care; all of it.

Being a perfect pair meant far more than people knew. Markus and I were like a perfect man, split into two. We were both good-looking if the women we’d dated were to be believed. But while I got the brains, Markus got the brawn. He was a clown, and I could be too serious. Together, we balanced each other out.

Something neither of us had counted on, though, was that perfect pairs were expected to share a mate. According to shifter lore, there was one Fated mate out there for each perfect pair. One woman created just for us. The only problem with that concept, was that my brother didn’t want a mate. Or a wife. Or a family.

Fuckwit.

I patted the pockets of my jeans, and groaned. “Damn it.” Markus had the car keys.

My gaze drifted across the road, where more bars and restaurants were filling with people, clashing styles of music pumping out of every speaker to create a cacophony of noise.

My wolf shifter senses enhanced the world around me. The intense sound of the cars, the people, and the music, were even more garish in my shifter ears than they would have been for a human. The multi-layered scents were heightened, too. Pungent, horrible aftershave and too strong perfume. Whiskey and stale beer. Fried, greasy food layered beneath sweat and body odor.

Not the sort of environment my shifter craved. He desired fresh grass, tall trees and the space to roam free.

My wolf prowled just beneath the surface of my skin, agitated and alone. I needed to shift and run, but there was no space for that here in the city. No freedom to be myself.

We lived in a small city with humans everywhere. My pack elders, many generations ago, had chosen to be part of humanity. We all had normal jobs; normal lives. We pretended to be human most of the time.

But our instincts were all wolf. Our strength. Our speed. Our wives... Fated mates. There were some things we just couldn’t get away from, even if we tried.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and began to walk along the sidewalk. Home was only about five miles, and once I was out of the city blocks, I could run. Not in wolf form, but at least I could get up a sweat and work off some of the anger pushing through my veins.

I stopped at a walkway, looking each way for traffic, and then when there was a gap, I hurried across the street.

My heart hurt in a way that it never used to. Like there was a hole in the flesh around it. Like someone had been trying to gouge it out.

Like there was something wrong with me.

Markus said he didn’t feel what I did. The bone-deep, cold loneliness that had begun to infiltrate my heart years ago and had built to unbearable proportions now. He was happy to continue playing around. We were only thirty, he said. And in one sense he was right. We still had time to find our Fated mate.

But I wasn’t sure how much longer I could put up with this aching loneliness.

***

ALEXANDRIA

My mom had been a biker chick, but that wasn’t the life I wanted to lead. So, at eighteen and one day, I’d packed my things and headed off to create a new life for myself. Far away from my mother’s world.

Who knew that life on the outside could be more difficult than the upbringing I’d had?

“Hey! You!”

I grimaced at the angry male voice yelling at me from across the diner. He hadn’t technically said my name but, even without looking, I was pretty sure he was calling to me. It was midnight on a Saturday night, and we were far busier than usual.

I turned around and pressed a hand to my chest. “Me, sir?”

His brows drew together as he glared at me like an angry bear with a sore paw. “Yes, you. Get your fat ass over here.”

The gasps around the diner were louder than any shout. People were clearly appalled at his behavior, but I knew no one would stand up for me. They never did.

My cheeks burning, I tried to suck in my stomach as much as I could and hurried across the linoleum floor, pen in hand. “Can I help you, sir?”

Embarrassment mixed with anger in my gut, making my stomach churn and my teeth clench. But I held tight to that boiling pot and breathed through the feeling.

My boss, like so many others, ascribed to the motto that the customer was always right. I, however, did not agree. Not in every case. And the temper I’d inherited from my long-gone father had way too short a fuse.

But I had bills to pay, so I didn’t have much of a choice at this point, except to suck it up and get the job done.

“Yeah, you can take my order,” the red-haired bear growled at me. “I’ve been waiting for a fucking hour.”

My lips twisted as I stared down at the black pencil tip poised on the paper. He’d barely been here ten minutes. I’d seen him come in. Whereas I’d been serving two dozen people on my own for several hours, since Nancy had called in sick last minute.

Not to mention the fact that table seven had a two-year-old in a highchair who kept throwing food on the floor. The food was a slipping hazard so I had to keep stopping to clear it up. Poor thing was utterly exhausted and beyond cranky—and no wonder being midnight. My patience was growing thin with him too, or at least, with his parents who did nothing to help clean up their child’s mess.

“What would you like, sir?” I asked through gritted teeth.

He grunted out his order full of grease and fat, just like him.

I jotted it down and turned to walk away. His hand slapped my ass so hard I yelped and fell forward.

I didn’t mean to punch him, but I’d swung around and my arm shot out before I could think fast enough to stop it.

A general round of applause went up in the room as he fell sideways in his booth.

I gasped and pressed my fist to my lips, blowing on the aching knuckles. “Shit.”

“Lexie! What the hell have you done?” My boss stood in the kitchen serving area, staring wide-eyed at the scene.

I sprinted for the counter and rounded the wooden bench. “Oh, shit.”

“You stupid girl!” he yelled, as he ran from the kitchen and into the dining area.

I didn’t stop to ask about my last two weeks’ pay, I just grabbed my bag and ran for the exit. My damn temper always got me in trouble. This wasn’t the first job I’d lost because I’d struck a customer who tried to manhandle me, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

I pushed open the glass door, the bells tinkling above my head. When I glanced back, I saw my boss lifting the guy back to a seated position, his angry gaze landing on me.

He lifted his arm and flicked his hand. “Get out of here. And don’t you ever show your face here again.”

I groaned as I rushed out the door and straight into the chest of a man mountain. “Holy shit. I’m so sorry.” Then I looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen.

I stumbled back, gaping at his gorgeous face.My heart pounded in my chest just looking at him.

He reached out for me, grabbing my arms to steady me. “Whoa there, you okay?”

A frisson of electricity sizzled through my body like I’d touched an electrified fence.

I shivered at the feeling, liking it and yet finding it strangely uncomfortable all at the same time.

His reaction was a lot more intense than mine. He staggered sideways, reaching out for the glass window to my left to steady himself.

“Hey, Ollie, you all right?” A deep, sexy voice called out from further down the street.

Another man headed toward us, even more handsome than the first, if that was possible. But he was different to the man I’d run into. Bigger. Broader. Dark, where the first man was light.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him. He just...” I was about to explain to the second man that the first one had zapped me, but the door to the diner flung open and the big bear that I’d punched stood in the doorway glaring at me.

The left side of his face was red and swelling. “Get back here!”

I didn’t stop to find out what he wanted from me. Would he punch me back? Call the cops? Haul me down to the police station himself? Probably.

Shit!

I had to go. But, as I took a step back, my heart called out to stay. To speak to the two men staring at me as though they’d never seen a woman before.

Fear won out, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins had me turning away from all the men who were staring at me and running down the street.

“Just go. Keep going, and don’t look back,” I chanted to myself, my feet beating against the pavement in time with the rapid tattoo of my heart.