“For fuck’s sake, Weylin. We do not manhandle potential employees!” Derrick growled at him from across his desk.
The Alpha obviously did not know he’d spent ten minutes wrestling his Wolf when he’d walked into the bar and saw Gwendolyn with three of the Pack females surrounding her. Fuck. She looked so beautiful. Curly brown hair, big inviting eyes, totally kissable lips just sitting there so perfect, waiting for a guy like him to come and worship at her altar.
Mine.
The animal wanted to claim her right there, but his human half recognized the obstacle to his ownhappily ever afterending. His mate was a normal. She knew fuck all about his world, and there was no way for him to explain what she meant to him without outing them all.
The problem? It wasn’t his decision to make. At least, not alone, it wasn’t. Which led to why he was in his Alpha’s office having his ass handed to him by one angry as fuck Dire Wolf.
“I didn’t know she was a potential employee, Derrick. Shit, I was completely unprepared, I know, and I apologize,” Weylin explained, eyeing the enormously pissed off male.
He thought better of it and dropped his gaze as his Alpha growled menacingly. The guy was super touchy ever since his uber-pregnant wife refused to give up her hobbies despite being so late in the pregnancy. Overprotective? Maybe, if she were a typical pregnant woman, but Lucy did not do things like knit booties or bake cookies.
Her hobbies included bartending till three in the morning, dancing on bar tops despite her swollen feet, and stealing her mate’s motorcycle for middle of the night rides with Sheila and those crazy Golden Lionesses. All the Shifter women he knew were hardheaded and sassy as fuck. But that’s what made them so damned lovable, or so he assumed.
It drove Derrick bonkers, and that alone was worth it in his not so humble opinion. His Alpha seemed to have it coming, trying to tell that Feline what to do. Hell, that was like taking his life,make that his balls, in his own hands. Poor Derrick. He might be the toughest Dire Wolf of them all, but his petite mate had him wrapped around her furry little pinky.
Personally, Weylin did not see what the big deal was. Lucy was a Shifter. If she wanted to ride motorcycles, dance on a pole, and shake her sass all night long, so what? She could handle herself just fine.
Easy for him to say as an unmated male. Suddenly he pictured Gwendolyn—damn he loved her name, it was every bit as cute as she was—taking part in the same activities Lucy preferred, and his stomach twisted in knots.
Fuuckk.
Weylin hadn’t even mated her yet, and already the woman had his balls in a vise. And this was why he was not looking for a mate! But even as he had the thought, Weylin took it back. He might not have been searching for his mate, but she landed right in his lap, and dammit, he wanted her. Fuck yes, he did! He wanted the female with every fiber of his being.
“Look, I get it, Weylin. You’re single, good-looking, and you haven’t met your mate yet, but at your age you should know better than to just grab random normals and shove your tongue in their mouths! For fuck’s sake, I am telling you, this gigolo lifestyle of yours has to end!”
“Actually Derrick, I don’t think that will be a problem because, you see, I have met her. My mate. I mean, I have met my mate,” he said, feeling tongue-tied.
“Your mate? Fantastic! Wait. Fuck, please tell me it’s not that other loopy Lioness, right?”
Derrick’s face went from happy to horrified in the span of a millisecond. Loopy Lioness? Weylin was utterly confused.
“What or who are you talking about?” Weylin asked.
“The last single Golden girl from the Blue Valley Pride. Those females whose names all start with A! It’s not her, right? I don’t think I can handle another one of them in the Pack,” Derrick grumbled, and ran a hand over his face.
Rigghhht.
Weylin barked a laugh, clapping his hand over his mouth at the angry glare from Derrick. The man was apparently not kidding. Weylin figured it made sense, though.
The Goldens had quite the rep, but they were fine females, if a little rascally. What did anyone expect with a mother like Patty? The new Queen of the Pride was well known for her shenanigans—most of which involved catnip, alcohol, and dancing on top of bars or swimming naked in fountains.
King Donovan was one lucky or unlucky male, depending on how you viewed his current cup. Weylin was a half full kinda guy. With a mate like Patricia, the Lion King would never be bored. There was something to say about that, for sure!
Now, Brock, the Dire Wolf Pack Beta, was mated to Ariella Golden. Her sister Annabeth had found her mate in a Falcon Shifter name of Hank Garret. While Antonetta had recently mated a Tiger Shifter from the Maverick Pride. If Weylin’s calculations were correct, Adrianna was the last sister standing. And while they were each of them fine looking felines, alas, the last Golden was not his mate.
Besides, Weylin figured Derrick was only kidding about that wholeplease let it not be herthing. Right? Well, maybe mostly kidding.
“No, man,” he told his Alpha. “My mate is not a cat. It’s the woman. Her. She’s it.”
“What are you talking about? Who is it?” Derrick barked.
“Her, man. The potential employee,” he whispered.
His super sensitive hearing had picked up a pair of footfalls in the hallway. The scent of berries and sweetness reached his nostrils, and he knew she was almost there. The beast in him rumbled, and Weylin coughed to cover his growl.
“The human? Absofuckinglutely not, Weylin. You can’t let her know what you are,” Derrick attempted to whisper.
