Discovering My Mate
It’s a slow night at The Arcane, the hidden club that serves the members of paranormal society in Dallas. I’ve been intimately acquainted with this club and all it has to offer since I was 13 and my mom started bringing me along to work with her each night.
I’ve been working in the small attached bookstore, but now that I’ve turned 18, Mom has moved me into the actual club. From quiet bookworm witches to rowdy and hormonal weres, vampires, and more. I can’t say that I’m thrilled with the promotion.
“Hey Kenzie, let’s get a move on!” Ron, the bartender (and also a were-tiger) slides a tray with shot glasses of dark red liquid to me. “And put a smile on that pretty face, or I’m telling your ma on you!”
I roll my eyes as I grab the tray of drinks, but turn on the charm and waltz over to Table 9, a collection of young vamps who have ordered a round of absolutely top shelf O-Negative. They must be celebrating, and they toast me with their shot glasses as the group knocks the drinks back together.
The music pulses through me and I scan the club for any patrons in need of a waitress. Everyone seems involved in their own affairs, which isn’t strange for this early in the night. It isn’t until after midnight that things start heating up, the dancing gets sweaty, and the wolves start letting their wild side show.
My gaze sweeps across the room again, but as it does a new wolf stalks through the door, bristling with barely contained violence, and I freeze. The music fades, the chatter is silenced, and as our eyes lock, all I can see is him.
He is tall, at least six feet, with enough muscles to make a girl drool, but not enough to make him look like a walking meatball. He seems lithe and graceful, and even from this distance I can see those eyes, a startling light blue in his tanned face, are taking me in just the way that mine are roaming over him. His dark hair is a little bit too long, and his brows are knit with confusion or displeasure, I can’t decide which.
The man blinks and shakes his head, and the moment is broken. “Get it together, Kenzie,” I mutter to myself and turn back to the bar before Ron comes after my ass again. I take a step forward and slam right into Mr. Muscles from the door, his hands on my arms the only thing keeping me from rebounding off of him and falling to the floor. One thing to be prepared for in a club for the supernatural is their incredible speed.
The hair on my body stands at attention, his touch sending tingles through every nerve ending I’ve got, and all I can do is let out a little whimper as those ice-blue eyes catch mine again. A low growl trickles out of him.
“Mine,” his low voice rumbles, and I gape up at him.
“Excuse me?” I say, my voice not as strong as I’d like it to be thanks to his touch lighting me on fire. “Yours? Do we know each other?”
His perfect mouth pulls back in a small snarl. “We don’t, little pet, but I know when something is mine, and you are most definitely it.” Before I can protest again, he pulls me close and buries his nose behind my ear, his hot breath sending shivers through me. “I am Randall Crowe, Alpha of the Crimson Moon Pack, and you are absolutely my mate.”
