She’s Here
885 Words
Aaron
I can’t get my head in the game.
No matter how hard I try, my focus keeps slipping like sand through my fingers. Pack reports blur together. Voices fade into background noise. Even the steady hum of the office, usually grounding, does nothing to anchor me today.
Shay is impossible.
Since last night, my wolf has been restless, pacing in tight, irritated circles beneath my skin. Snippy. Growling at shadows. Snapping at every attempt I make to rein him in.
I know why.
Our mate is close.
There is no other explanation for this kind of unrest. Not for the way my chest feels too tight, like something essential is just out of reach. Not for the way my instincts keep tugging me in no clear direction at all. And certainly not for the certainty sitting heavy in my gut, this sense that something has shifted, irrevocably.
The only question is where she is.
And who she is.
Unfortunately, pack business doesn’t pause for fate.
After a night of tossing and turning, I dragged myself out of bed and into the office with a sense of dread curling low in my stomach. Alliances to manage. Meetings to host. Appearances to keep. Responsibilities that don’t care that my mate might be walking around my territory right now, unaware, unprotected, alone.
She should be near me.
Mine.
The thought sends a sharp pulse through my chest, and Shay snarls his agreement.
I rub my forehead and glance at the clock on the wall.
Nine in the morning.
Too early. Far too early to be feeling this frayed.
How am I supposed to make it through the day like this?
Just as the thought forms, Shay stills.
Not freezes, sharpens.
He lifts his head, senses stretching outward.
- Do you smell that? he asks, voice tight with sudden focus.
I inhale slowly, subtly, keeping my expression neutral for the benefit of the wolves around me.
At first, it’s barely there.
Then..
Warm salt.
A summer breeze rolling in at the break of dawn.
The quiet promise of heat lingering in the air as the sun slowly rises over the horizon.
My breath catches.
The scent drags me backward in time without warning to early mornings at the coast, a board tucked under my arm, bare feet in cool sand. Before the title. Before the weight. Before my days were measured in responsibility instead of tides and waves.
Back when the ocean greeted me like an old friend and the future felt endless.
Shay erupts.
- It’s her. It’s her! he howls, joy flooding through the bond. She’s here!
- She must be nearby, I tell him, already on my feet.
I move through the building quietly, deliberately, nose tilted just enough to track the scent as it grows stronger with every floor. My pulse picks up. My muscles tighten, coiling with anticipation.
Closer.
Closer.
Then..
“Aaron! Where are you?”
Bethany’s voice cuts through the haze via the mind link, sharp and impatient.
I grit my teeth. Now.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I reply, forcing calm into my tone. “I just need..”
“Absolutely not,” she snaps. “Alpha Vincent will arrive any moment. You cannot be late. You cannot disrespect him.”
I stop short in the hallway, fists clenching at my sides.
She’s right.
Damn her for being right.
Shay snarls furiously. - She’s more important. Our mate is more important.
- I know, I tell him, jaw tight. She’s here. We’ll find her today. I promise.
Reluctantly, I turn back toward the top floor.
Shay withdraws, furious and offended, sulking deep in my mind.
So am I.
Of all the wolves who could have pulled me away at that moment, it had to be Bethany, the woman who wants to be my mate but isn’t. The woman whose presence beside me is political, expected, and increasingly unbearable.
The scent lingers all day.
In hallways. Near stairwells. In passing currents of air that make my head snap up before I can stop myself. Every time it brushes my senses, Shay surges forward, desperate and demanding.
I catch Bethany watching me more than once, suspicion creasing her brow. Carl, my Beta, notices too shooting me knowing looks when no one else is paying attention.
At lunchtime, the scent nearly overwhelms me in the cafeteria.
It’s stronger. So close it makes my skin buzz.
I rise abruptly, ignoring questions, following it without thinking, through tables, past startled wolves, down corridors I barely register. My heart pounds as I close in, instinct screaming that I’m seconds away.
And then..
Nothing.
A dead end.
By the time the workday finally grinds to a halt, frustration coils tight in my chest. Shay is furious, convinced I didn’t try hard enough. Convinced we missed her.
- If we never smell her again, it’s your fault, he snarls. You let her slip away.
I rub a hand over my face, exhaustion settling deep in my bones.
- No, I say more to myself than to him. She’s here. I know it.
- And when I find her..
I don’t finish the thought.
But I swear to both of us, with iron certainty settling into my spine:
I will not let her slip away again.
- Writer
