The Rogue Alpha's Detective Mate

First impressions

Desmond Loupe

Desmond stepped out of the captain’s office, his gaze immediately finding her across the room. She stood by her desk, her copper hair cascading down her back like a shimmering waterfall, so soft it seemed to glow under the fluorescent lights. He couldn't help but stare. Her green eyes locked onto his with an intensity that sent an electric current through him, his wolf stirring at the connection. His senses tingled as he took in every detail—her sharp, yet graceful features, and the undeniable shape of her body, strong but still undeniably feminine with soft curves that gave her an hourglass silhouette. He needed to look away, but he couldn’t. She was beautiful, in a way that made everything else blur in comparison.

She had no idea who he really was—she had met him when he was in his wolf form, after all. Her act of kindness had saved him, but it wasn’t just the physical injuries he had to recover from. No, the emotional weight of finding his mate after so many years of searching was heavier. His wolf had known the instant he’d scented her. Peaches, vanilla, and lavender had filled his nose, making his heart race and his mouth water. She was his. His mate had been here all along, and he hadn’t known it.

He remembered the night she had helped him. He'd been out for a run, trying to release some pent-up energy after being cooped up in his human form for too long. In the woods, he’d picked up her scent—pure, intoxicating—and had followed it, eager to finally meet the woman who had been waiting for him. But just as he was closing in on her, another wolf had appeared. A silver-gray male, its teeth bared in a snarl, a challenge in its posture. Desmond had growled in response, not backing down. He didn’t care if the other wolf was her husband—his mate was his.

The battle had been brief, but intense. Desmond had left the other wolf limping and broken, barely able to drag himself off into the woods. He hadn’t expected her to come to his aid, but when she did, it had only cemented everything he knew. She hadn’t hesitated. She hadn’t been afraid of him—she’d seen only a wild wolf and treated him like any other injured animal. The care she gave him, the gentle touch, had left him in awe.

He watched her, captivated, as she tended to him. She’d even tried to guess his wolf’s name, a laugh bubbling from her lips when she couldn’t figure it out. The sound had been like a melody, something he wanted to hear every day for the rest of his life. Her dimples—oh, those dimples—had nearly made his heart stop. He would do anything just to see that smile again, to make her laugh.

The next night, he had given in to his desire. After he’d shifted back into his human form, he’d carried her to her bed, holding her close as they both drifted to sleep. When he woke before her, he slipped out of bed quietly, not wanting to leave but knowing he had to. Today was his first day at work, and he couldn’t risk being late. Plus, it wasn’t like she was far from him—he was renting the townhouse next door. It had been a strange coincidence, but he wasn’t complaining. How had he not scented her sooner?

As he stood there in the office, his focus remained on her, though his awareness stretched to everything around him. He noticed the older woman eyeing him, her gaze lingering longer than it should. She was attractive enough, with shoulder-length blonde hair and a tall, slender frame, but she was nothing compared to his mate. Desmond turned from the woman, his gaze locking on the man who had been circling Cassandra’s desk. A low growl rumbled in his chest. This guy had been flirting with her—poorly, Desmond noted. Still, his chest swelled with pride when he realized that Cassandra wasn’t interested. She was stronger than he’d expected.

He sat down at the empty desk across from her, watching as she tried her best to ignore him. It was cute, really. The connection between them was undeniable, even if she didn’t quite know what it was yet. Humans didn’t understand the bond between mates, not in the same way his kind did. But he could see it in her eyes—the way her guard kept rising and falling as she fought to maintain her composure.

Breaking the silence, Desmond leaned forward. “I’m Detective Loupe,” he introduced himself, offering her a grin that was almost teasing. “But you can call me Desmond.”

His hand stretched across the desk, and he watched her war with herself over whether to shake it. Finally, she relented, her small, delicate hand slipping into his. The moment their skin met, a spark shot up his arm, electrifying his senses. He felt it in every part of him. Her eyes widened in surprise before she quickly withdrew her hand. She’d felt it too, and that was good.

"Detective Cassandra Kane," she said, her voice smooth, calm, and deep, a balm on his soul. "But most people just call me Cassie."

"Detective Kane," he said, the words tasting like honey on his tongue.

Before he could say anything more, Captain Harris’s voice broke through the moment. “Detective Kane!”

Cassie jumped to her feet. “Coming, Cap,” she replied, shooting Desmond one last look, her eyes locking with his as she knocked her knuckles lightly on her desk before walking off.

Desmond didn’t miss the eyes that followed her, and the voice that purred from behind him. "She’s something, isn’t she?"

Desmond turned to find the detective from earlier leaning against the side of her desk, a smug grin on his face. “One of the best detectives here, and well… come on,” he said, drawing a shape in the air with his hands, “you can see why.”

Desmond didn’t even try to hide his disgust. He stared at the man’s hand when it was offered, not bothering to take it.

"Okay… Well, if you need anything, I’m your guy," the man, Bingham—or Will, as he called himself—continued, his grin wide. “A little advice, though,” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Cassie’s off-limits.”

Desmond’s eyebrow arched, barely concealing his amusement. “Is that so?”

Bingham grinned wider, clearly enjoying his moment of control. “Yeah, we’re kind of a thing.”

Desmond fought to keep his cool. He knew Bingham was lying. There was no way Cassie would ever fall for a man like him, not when she was meant for someone like Desmond. Still, he let Bingham have his moment. For now.

“Bingham!” A barked command came from across the room.

With a dramatic sigh, Bingham shot one last glare at Desmond before shuffling away, muttering under his breath. Desmond was more than happy to watch the pathetic man retreat.

Turning back to his computer, Desmond didn’t waste any more time. The tech department had already set him up with his login credentials, and he dove into the case file Cassie had been working on—now his case too.

"Come on, new guy," Cassandra’s voice broke through his concentration, and he looked up to see her grabbing her bag and coffee. She took a long gulp, her gaze sharp as she eyed him.

"You're driving, new guy," she said, tossing him a set of keys. It was a test, he knew it. She didn’t like working with partners, but he would make this work. He had to.

Desmond stood, grabbing his jacket, his mind already racing with thoughts of how he would prove himself—both as a detective and as her mate.