From the back of the store, two males turned to face him, welcoming smiles melting into rigid grimaces. Before Evan could say a word, the men vanished.
Gone. Completely.
It was like the coolest magic trick imaginable, only Evan was more pissed than impressed. He stepped into the shop and closed the door behind him, glancing past shelves that were loaded with computer thingies and plastic packaging.
“Hello?” he called into the silence.
And that’s when it hit him.
Peaches. Sunshine. The aroma of a wind that had crossed miles of seemingly empty tundra—wilderness at its rawest yet full of hidden life. All mixed up into one unique package.
It was a full-on dose of the scent he’d caught a hint of nearly two weeks ago. His stomach tightened, his heart rate kicked into overdrive. Instinctively his legs carried him forward as he tracked the scent that grew stronger and stronger.
His mate.
His mate had been in the computer shop. More than once. Often enough that as he moved toward the cash register and the counter, his head was so full of her he had to work hard to remain alert.
What was the deal with the missing staff? Evan kept his gaze moving as he silently padded forward. To one side, he spotted a couple of doors that explained where the men had gone, but not the why.
Until he hit their scent. Wolves.
Two unfamiliar wolves who vanished when they spotted him? Had to be Canyon pack. He’d deal with them later, though. Spend a little time explaining he wasn’t the enemy.
The enticing trail led him to the back of the shop and a narrow set of stairs. He moved like a wolf, noiseless and invisible. Sensing which treads to avoid stepping on to maintain absolute silence.
Easing his way upward was brutal when everything in him demanded that he run. Rush forward and swoop in on the woman who had to be at the top of the stairs.
His wolf clawed at him, eager for the hunt. Evan wrestled that part of himself under control for long enough to reach the top landing and step through the doorframe.
The room was filled with her, the open door pushing her intoxicating scent toward him like a sledgehammer to the brain.
He got a quick glimpse while she was unaware of his presence. Impressions struck like lightning bolts. Short dark hair worn in a simple style that suited her. Smooth creamy-brown skin, similar in shade to his own.
Lots of naked skin as she sat behind a desk and stared at her computer, and he wasn’t even going to ask why the hell she was working in the nude because she was his mate, and if she chose to wear nothing but skin for the rest of her life, he was oh-so-fine with that.
Then she looked up, and their eyes met. Pupils widened against her dark brown irises. Her nostrils flared, and if possible, her eyes widened farther.
“Amy?” Evan moved cautiously.
His naked goddess didn’t answer. Just blinked, hard, as if in total shock to see him in her office, which made sense.
He lifted a hand to reassure her—
She bolted. Twirled and shot through the open door, naked skin transforming in a flash to midnight-black fur.
He cursed even as he leapt after her, scrambling onto the balcony. The lithe body of a wolf ran full-out down a narrow ledge on the side of the building. Evan stripped his clothes off as quickly as he could, but she’d already hit the ground before he was able to make the shift.
Chasing her wasn’t a good idea. She’d obviously been shocked enough to flee, and having an Alpha on her tail wasn’t a very nice thing to do to any wolf, especially to one who was afraid.
But hell if he could let his mate get away again.
She wasn’t thinking. Wasn’t plotting. Wasn’t doing anything but trying to get the hell away from him.
How had Evan found her? Amy twisted between the trees, ducked under a low bush. She considered doubling back to hide her trail in case he chose to follow her, but that would take time she didn’t have. Her best bet was to lose him in the distance before he was able to track her.
She knew these paths, heading north and east on the straightest route possible to the bridge over the river.
Once on the other side, she had a dozen places where she could vanish. Even as she considered her options, she chastised herself.
How had everything gone wrong in just the past few hours?
Her wolf wasn’t cooperating either. The edge of adrenaline she usually got while running was dull this time, as if her wolf had a different agenda. Two parts in one whole, she was the wolf and the wolf was her, but the human mind and the animal’s could and did disagree about what they thought was important.
Now was not the time for a lengthy internal self-debate.
Muscles burning with exertion, she tore up the trail, cutting into a clearing where she could choose one of four escapes. She headed to the right in the hopes of disappearing when she was tackled to the ground by the weight of a far heavier wolf.
Her first response of panic was washed away by an entirely new emotion as she slipped from under him and whirled to face him.
Evan’s scent wrapped around her, and for a second she froze in utter shock. Comprehension slid in and ensnared her in its icy realization.
Oh, no. No. No. No.
He was not her mate. Amy snarled because she couldn’t let loose the howl of frustration and fury she wanted to give voice to. Not without baring her throat, and that was one thing she would never willingly do. She’d never give him a chance to see her defenseless.
Evan sat back on his haunches, head tilted to the side like a puppy. Confusion at her growled response was written into his posture.
Had he known they were mates? Amy wondered.
Frustration filled her, yes, but even stronger was bewilderment, and sorrow, then all-out emotional-anger hit, and she did the only thing she could think of to stop herself from leaping at him and swiping her claws across his defenseless throat.
She shifted, letting her rage escape in a shout. “Damn you, Evan Stone. Damn you to hell.”
He was on his feet seconds later, his muscular human form so pleasing to the eye and such a knife to her heart. “Amy? What’s wrong?”
She planted her fists on her hips and stared about four inches over his head, fighting for control. In her worst nightmares she could never have imagined this. “Everything is wrong. Everything. Oh my God, you’re my mate.”
The final word escaped in a choking gasp, and her guts twisted as if someone had reached inside her, wrapped their fingers around her heart and were slowly tearing it out.
She folded her arms around her torso and held on tight in the hopes of stabilizing her shaking world.
He didn’t try to touch her, which was good. He looked, though. Looked as if his heart was breaking as well, and it was beyond annoying that she instantly cared what she’d said had hurt him. She should have been rejoicing, but instead the conflict threatened to rip her in two.
“This is wrong. All wrong.” Amy swallowed hard, fighting tears of anger. Fighting the need to lash out and plant a fist into that perfectly formed muscular six-pack.
He shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s upset you, but we’re mates. We can fix it. We can fix it together, Amy. I know we can.”
She took a deep breath and ignored the tone in his voice, the one that was oh-so-reasonable and oh-so-logical, because this had nothing to do with reason or logic, and everything to do with pain and sorrow. “You can’t be my mate. It’s impossible,” she whispered vehemently.
“It’s true. You sense it. Can taste it on the air.” Evan inched closer. Only one step, but enough she shot out a hand to warn him off. “Why are you denying it?”