Chapter Eight
The day dragged from project updates to staff meetings to vetting pack issues. Ken’s business suit felt too tight, his hunger unsatisfied, and his scalp itchy. At one point, he found poor Benny stress eating his way through a whole pizza. The tension between him and Ryota effected the whole office. Ken swore, while devouring lunch, that he saw the minute hand on the wall clock go backwards.
He glanced at the torn copy of the eviction notice taped to the top of his computer monitor for the hundredth time. How would he fix this? He couldn’t stop thinking about the problem, but no matter how many laps his thoughts took around the issue, a solution evaded him.
Fate didn’t want him to have Betty. He must have been a very bad wolf in a previous life to be punished thusly. Soulmates were a sure thing. It was why shifters desired them so badly. True love guaranteed. Who wouldn’t want that?
Apparently, his soulmate. He kept picturing her face as she had handed him a glass of water when he’d awakened in the dog kennel. Have a rough night? That attitude, that sense of humor, even while taking care of his thirst. He was a goner.
His jaw cracked with the mother of all yawns. He had had a rough night and a worse day, but he wouldn’t trade a second of it because that meant he wouldn’t have met Betty. All he had to do now was convince her they were meant for each other, evict her from her home, and keep his alpha from killing her.
Ken rose from his desk and straightened his tie. Just another Monday, except it was Thursday.
He pressed the Benny button on his desk to call his assistant. “I’m leaving for the day. Did you exchange cars with Beth?”
“Yes, beta.” The shifter sounded wrung out.
Ken grinned. “Did she give you a hard time again?” Being new to the pack, Benny was still figuring out his place within the ranks. Submissives and omegas took longer to figure out their relationships than dominants. Their more aggressive counterparts tended to just pound the shit out of each other to solve their problems.
Humans had trouble understanding pack hierarchy and tended to think omegas were submissive wolves. There was nothing submissive in Beth. She was the heart of the pack by knowing how and when to open the release valves when the pack stress was high. She did it with social events, phone calls, or what Benny called social interventions. As a submissive, Benny didn’t care where he was in pack hierarchy. He just wanted help and Beth took advantage of it.
She had resorted to torturing Benny with outrageous demands that his instincts wouldn’t allow him to deny. Benny was a giver. If Beth didn’t back off soon, Ken would need to step in.
“Always. The car is parked in your spot.” Benny growled.
Being submissive didn’t mean Benny wasn’t a fighter. It just meant he didn’t care about power. He would fight for pack, but didn’t want to lead. The younger wolf could bench press a Volkswagen filled with clowns, but then he’d set it carefully aside and help them out of the car, making sure each had a balloon. Not all wolves had killer instincts, otherwise they’d have all killed each other off. A pack had to be diverse to thrive. The weak balanced out the strong so they didn’t become serial killers. Benny was the ying to Ken’s yang.
Maybe that was what Ryota needed. A yang to keep his ying from flipping tables. They could use a few more Bennies.
“Beta?” His voice had an edge to it.
“Thank you, Benny.” He grinned as he heard Benny growling under his breath through the wall.
Taking the back stairs from his office, he avoided any further delays to his ultimate goal, his date with Miss Betty. He drove to Scratch Your Itch and parked illegally by the front door.
Beth sat at the receptionist’s desk and quirked her eyebrow at his entrance. “Nice suit. Better than your other ones.”
He glanced at his attire, having not paid any attention to what Benny had picked out. A chef wore an apron, a nurse wore scrubs, and a businessman wore a suit. It was just a uniform. “So I shouldn’t change for my date?” He had planned on jeans and a collared shirt.
Angie stepped out of one of her scratching rooms, drying her hands with a towel. Hair cropped short and a wicked smile, she appeared relaxed for the first time since he’d met her. Mated life suited her. She assessed him from head to toe. “I heard the good news.”
Beth offered an unapologetic smile. She had told everyone like Ryota had predicted.
Angie adjusted his collar. “You smell nervous. You’re never nervous.” She chuckled. “Explains the explosion of fur I witnessed this morning.”
“About that, is Eoin going to stop antagonizing Ryota? It’s putting strain on the pack.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “The Alpha needs a vacation.”
“I’ll talk to Eoin.” She patted his cheek. “Don’t seduce her on the first date.”
“Why not?” He’d been waiting all fucking day. If his skin got any tighter he’d bust a seam. He needed to touch her, smell her, taste her. Waiting sounded like death.
“Don’t get all wolf shifter on me. You’ll destroy this nice suit as well.” She winked.
“You’re a terrible friend. Seriously, where’s the support?” He had helped her when the dragon had been sniffing around her shop.
Beth lifted a notepad from her desk. “Right here. All the details for your first romantic date.”
“You let Beth plan your date?” Angie smacked the back of his head. “You’re supposed to do that.”
“She offered and I had meetings all day.” He smoothed his ruffled hair. Did he have a smack my head sign on his back today? Beth, Ryota, and now Angie. Next person who hit him would lose fingers. “Beth is better at this stuff. I want everything to be perfect—romantic. Something Betty will remember forever.”
Angie shook her head. “At least your heart is in the right place.”
“Says the girl who picked muck out of a dragon’s scales for a week so you could hook up.”
“He paid me!”
“That’s supposed to make it better?” He liked how her face flushed red and smoke puffed out of her button nose.
“It all worked out, all right?” She deflated in front of his eyes and he could almost see little heart-shaped bubbles popping around her head. “Are you going to the orphanage fund raiser this weekend?”
“Of course. Ken’ichi Inc. is a sponsor this year.” He gave her a little bow.
It had taken some serious footwork to pry the money out of Ryota’s claws. Without the orphanage, he and Angie wouldn’t have had a home after they had lost their parents. He didn’t even remember them, just vague emotions. He’d been abandoned at the orphanage as a baby. No note. No name. No history. That was why they had raised him as human those first few years. He would make sure the place was well-funded so future orphans had a home.
Angie gave him a hug. “Go steal her heart.” Then she returned to her work room without a backward glance. She would be at the event. He knew because he organized the whole thing and had seen her name listed under the vendors. She’d be offering free back scratching for donations.
Beth came around her desk and handed over the notepad. “A canoe ride to Remshaws for dinner, then a moonlit walk along the shore after dessert. Make sure to order dessert even if she pretends not to want any.”
He fingered the page. “Remshaws? That’s a hard place to get a reservation. How did you manage it on such short notice?”
“Ryota has a standing reservation for two every Thursday night. I know he’s not using it tonight because I called him and booked a scratching session with Angie at the same time as the reservation.” She held out her arms for a hug. “Am I awesome or what?”
He gave her a quick squeeze. “You’re awesome.”
“I want details tomorrow.”
Ken snorted. “Keep dreaming. I don’t kiss and tell.” Not to mention he didn’t want those details all over social media. Shifters were the worst gossips and the beta of New Port Pack finding his soulmate was the hottest topic. He was sure.
The roads to Betty’s rescue were lined with cars, bumper to bumper. Rush hour on the back roads of the city. He lived off the interstate and had forgotten about this crawl from traffic light to traffic light. He watched as the green light turned red for the second time yet he hadn’t moved forward an inch. Gnashing his teeth, he spotted some drivers getting out of their cars.
He threw back his head against the rest. Now what? Shoving the driver’s side door open, he exited his vehicle then stalked ahead of the traffic.
A car halfway down the block was the source of the blockage. On hands and knees, a man was trying to jack lift his car. A flat tire and no place to park.
“Need a hand?” Ken crouched next to the driver. He smelled like rodent. Rat shifter to be specific.
“The jack is broken. It keeps lowering so I have to stop to up it back up.” He met Ken’s stare. Rat shifters didn’t fear anything, even when they should.
Ken hooked his jacket on the car antenna and rolled up his sleeves. “You have ten minutes to change that tire so get your shit ready.” He moved to the fender and searched for solid handholds along the frame. “Ready?”
“Yeah, man.” The wiry little shifter looked like he was about to take part in a pit crew. “Go.”
Ken lifted the old vehicle. It was made of solid steel. Ken’s muscles trembled as he listened to the sound of a tire hitting the ground and bolts tightening.
“Okay, man. All done.” The rat shifter stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Thanks, that was really nice of you.”
“No, it’s not. I’m late for a date and you’re blocking my route.”
“You look familiar. Wolf pack, right?”
Ken fixed his suit jacket after putting it back on then eyed the other shifter. “Yeah…” He didn’t socialize with any of the rats.
The stranger gave him an amused grin. “Is your name Ken?” He held up his smart phone.
Ken peered at the screen. His picture pasted with soulmate status.
Beth…
“I peerchat with your omega.”
Great, not only did his whole pack know he’d found his soulmate, the whole fucking shifter community knew it as well.
“Good luck.” The stranger raised his hand, about to slap Ken’s shoulder.
He aimed a glare in his direction and the rat shifter stopped mid-air, having second thoughts about the familiar gesture.
By the time Ken stormed back to his car, traffic started moving again. About time too. He just might make it on time.
He fought the urge to speed. The last thing he needed was a ticket.
One block from Betty’s home, a protest marched on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse. They held signs with sayings “No more bullies!” and “Equal rights for non-predator shifters!”
Ken stopped at the crosswalk to let them pass. He had no qualms with prey shifters. Their instincts differed and he respected that, except this group stopped in front of his car, marching back and forth over the crosswalk.
He closed his eyes and counted to ten, but only made it to five when the clock on his dashboard caught his attention. Enough. He jumped out of his vehicle, sensing his eyes shift. His claws pressed at his fingertips but hadn’t pierced out of his skin yet.
The protesters froze.
Ken could barely think, let alone string intelligent words into sentences. They blocked his path to his mate, who he hadn’t seen in over eight hours. Bending his head back, he howled.
Store windows rattled and protestors scattered.
That was better. He took a deep breath and pulled his shit together. Uncontrolled shifts shouldn’t occur to a werewolf of his caliber. As beta, he had to set an example to the pack. That had been a close one.
He drove, turning onto Betty’s street and parked in front of the rescue. The shifter staring back at him in the rearview mirror looked haggard. He finger-combed his hair and straightened his tie before stepping out.
The front door to the rescue swung open and an angel appeared. Betty’s dark hair fell in big soft curls over her shoulders. A gauzy yellow dress clung to her curves and flowed to her knees. She took three graceful steps before her ankle twisted and she stumbled on her heels.
He caught her elbow and steadied her stance.
Her luminous gaze trapped his like the full moon and he fought the urge to howl again. “Thanks.” She blushed. “The ground was uneven.”
She felt light in his arms and her scent…
She wiped something on his cheek with her thumb. “Is this grease?”
“I helped someone with a flat tire on the way here.” He would have dragged a stalled bus across the street to make this date. He bent forward, leaning closer.
Her eyes went wide as he drew kissing close. She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Easy, cowboy.”
He turned his head, changing his goal and buried his face against her neck. “I just need to smell you.”
He took a deep breath and shuddered. She smelled of sweet and gentle things with a hint of dog.
The hair on the nape of his neck relaxed. There…all was better.
She stroked his back. “Bad day?”
“Not anymore.”