Gamma Atlas doesn't have time for relationships. With his pack still recovering from an attack and a new mission, his attention should be focused entirely on his work-not the alluring, enigmatic mate he met at a club. Mathias is everything Atlas doe...
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The room was loud and stuffy. Lights were flashing, blinding everyone in their path. My skin was crawling with the growing need to leave, but I stayed rooted in my seat.
I swirled the mostly empty glass around as I eyed the crowd with ill-contained disdain. I didn't want to be here, in this human club, but Nolan claimed it was important. The way his eyes shined and the frown that adorned his lips was enough to convince me he was telling the truth.
Kidnappers, he said. There was a rumor passing through the grapevine about a group of people kidnapping supernatural creatures and selling them at auctions. Whether or not it was true had yet to be proven, but Nolan, being Nolan, wasn't willing to turn a blind eye to the potential crime. After asking around and doing a bit more digging, he was able to locate two possible locations where the suspects would be meeting up. If we were lucky, we'd be able to find out where their hideout was.
However, as I sat, I couldn't help but hope that he was having better luck at the other location than I was here. So far, nobody remotely suspicious had entered—unless you counted the drunken older woman who'd been "subtly" sniffing those around her, that is.
Strange? Without a doubt, but "secretly a supernatural kidnapper" strange? Not quite.
I glanced down at my phone, tempted to call Nolan and let him know what a bust the mission had been on my part, but stopped once a strong balsamic scent hit my nose.
My eyes darted around, trying to pinpoint where the fragrance was coming from. The wobbly brunet dancing—if you could call it that—was out; the coquette, ginger-haired woman whispering to the bartender definitely wasn't the source; and the balding man tucked away in the corner, on the verge of passing out, wasn't even an option.
Where are you?
I inhaled once again, paying more attention. I blocked out the blaring music, the strong alcoholic smell, and the laughs traveling around the room. My eyes drifted over the crowd, scanning everyone. Most of the crowd was human which, in truth, I did tend to stay away from. Unless they grew up in the pack, I oftentimes tried to keep my distance since it was hard to keep up the charade and pretend I wasn't a werewolf. I preferred the company of other paranormal beings.
At least, I thought I did until I saw him.
Sitting with a seemingly permanent clenched jaw, a bandage around his hand, and a glare on his face was a man with toffee brown curls and stormy, grey eyes which were currently focused on a smaller, long-haired man with what looked to be an ice pack in his outstretched hand.
I watched from across the bar as the toffee-haired man angled his head away from the ice pack with a narrowed gaze, revealing what seemed to be the start of a bruise forming. His mouth moved and thanks to my lycanthropic abilities, I was able to make out his words.
"I don't need that shit," Grey eyes grumbled.
"A bruise is starting to form, Mat," the other man argued.
