Wyatt kissed and licked his way down her chest, pausing to squeeze and caress her breasts. Her cinnamon and honey scent enveloped him, driving him mad. His teeth grazed one of her nipples, drawing a moan from her mouth as he sucked on the hardened bud.

“Mine!” his wolf screamed in his mind, desperate to claim their mate.

“Soon.” For once, his mind was synced with that of his wolf. As much as he wanted the claiming bite, he held back—instinct driving him to pleasure his mate.

“I need to taste you.” Wyatt’s voice thickened as his fangs lengthened in anticipation of claiming his mate.

“Mmmmm. Yes!” she cried as his tongue flicked over her pussy.

“Gods, woman. You taste so fucking good.”

“Wyatt! Wyatt! Wake the fuck up, man! You’re embarrassing yourself, bro.”

Wyatt leapt from his bed in a panic. “What the fuck?”

Why would Ethan interrupt him when he was about to claim his mate?

“What the fuck indeed, brother? Should I even ask what you were dreaming about?”

“Dreaming?” Wyatt looked around, confused by the conversation with Ethan. “There is no way that was a fucking dream. Where is she?”

Ethan backed away, his hands in the air in surrender. “I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I heard you thrashing around in here and woke you up. That’s all.”

“I can still smell her.” Wyatt’s voice slurred as his fangs lengthened.

“Smell who? What are you talking about?”

“My fucking mate!”

“Wyatt, you need to calm the fuck down. The only two people in this house are me and you. That’s it. I would have smelled anyone else. Dude, you were dreaming.”

His brother’s words finally sunk into his thick skull. “It was so real. Christ! She was real. I can still smell her. Still taste her.” Wyatt ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.

Dreams of his mate had plagued him for months, but had never felt so—real. Closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath to calm his frazzled nerves, Wyatt thought back to the first dream that he’d had of his mate. He’d been running through the woods during the harvest moon when he’d first caught her scent. Nearly slamming into a tree, his mate’s scent had left him stripped of all that he had been worth.

“Brother, what is going on? You’ve been distracted—edgy for months. It’s going to get us killed,” Ethan begged Wyatt to tell him what was going on.

Wyatt looked at his brother—the only person who had ever stood by him through thick and thin—and debated on whether or not he should tell him about the fucked up dreams of his mate that were driving him to the brink of madness.

“Tell him,” his wolf urged.

“I—uh,” Wyatt paused. He knew his wolf was right, he should tell his brother about the dreams, about finding his mate each and every time he closed his damn eyes. So why the hesitation?

I don’t want to sound like a fucking basket case.

Seeing pity in his older brother’s eyes was the last damn thing Wyatt wanted. Yes, Ethan would give him the standard speech of, ‘It’s my job to look out for you. Blah, blah, blah.’ He was tired of hearing it.

Besides, Ethan had been actively hunting for his mate.

Wyatt—not so much. When their parents were still alive, he’d been all gung-ho about finding his fated mate and settling down. The idea of having lots of pups appealed to him more than he would have ever admitted.

Now?

Pass.

He wanted nothing to do with any of it. Fuck fate. Fuck all the bullshit. He’d do what he wanted, when he wanted, and who he wanted. It was a fine plan. One that had worked for him since the death of his parents.

Until the dreams had started.

Now his mind was a cluster fuck. He couldn’t seem to tell his ass from a hole in the ground. Nothing made sense. Not the sun or the moon. Not the stars in the sky. The only time the world seemed right again was when he thought of his mate.

What Wyatt wouldn’t give to be able to talk to his dad. He’d ask him if it was normal to dream about one’s mate, and if it felt like the world around him was spinning out of control once he’d caught her scent but failed to find or claim her.

He might not have met his mate in person, but he was convinced he’d met her in his dreams. How else could he account for his wolf being just as edgy and raw as he was? It made no damn sense. The dream woman had to be his mate.

Ethan snapped his fingers in front of Wyatt’s face. “Yo! You still there?”

Wyatt’s head snapped to attention. He’d been lost once again in his thoughts. “Yeah. These dreams are killing me. I was just thinking about how much I miss Dad and wish he was here so I could talk to him.”

“I’m here. Talk to me,” Ethan demanded.

Wyatt knew his brother was right, but he didn’t want to burden him with his issues. Especially when it came to the whole mate subject. Ethan was the oldest and had been scouring the land for his mate since Wyatt could remember.

Ethan leaned against the frame of the door. “I already know the dreams are about your mate. So why don’t you just tell me.”

Wyatt looked his brother in the eye, expecting to see jealousy or anger—but all he saw was worry. “The dreams started a couple of months ago. I keep dreaming of my mate. The dreams are so damn real. Every fucking time I close my eyes and drift off, her scent finds me—no matter where I am. I search high and low for her until I finally find her. Each and every time, I wake up just before I claim her.”

Ethan whistled. “That sucks.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Do you think it’s real? Like—no shit, really dreaming about your mate?”

“I have zero fucking doubt. The worst part is, even sitting here now, her scent is all around me—burned into my brain. My wolf is jacked up, off the fucking charts, ready to slay someone or something because he keeps getting denied the ability to claim his mate.”

“Wait—your wolf is dreaming about her, too?”

“Yes—I mean no. It’s—ugh. I don’t fucking know. It’s like a dream, but not really. It’s hard to explain. When it’s happening, it takes place in a dream, but it’s like we are really there. My wolf can smell her, taste her. His instinct is what is driving me each time to seek her out and claim her the second we find her. These dreams, if that’s what you want to call them, are like nothing I’ve ever dreamed or even felt before. I don’t know how much more I can take, and then there’s my wolf. If I don’t figure this out soon, he’s going to snap. I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.”

Ethan ran his fingers through his hair. “You know, I ran into a lady yesterday. Well, a shifter. She said something really odd. I thought she was nuts at the time and just let it go.”

“What are you talking about?” Wyatt looked at his brother in disbelief. After he’d just poured his heart out, Ethan decided to deflect and change the subject?

“Stay with me for a minute. I know that woman knows something about this.” Ethan pushed away from the doorframe and sank into the closest chair.

Wyatt looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “How could a complete stranger know anything about my dreams? What did she say?”

Ethan blew out the breath he’d been holding. “She said something like ‘sometimes dreams are more real than life’. Then she handed me her card and walked away.”

“What the fuck? Where is her card? Who was she?” Wyatt’s mind spun with possibilities. Was this woman the key to finding his mate?

“Slow down, just for a second. I have no idea who she was. I’d never met her before and thought she was totally nuts.”

“Do you have her card?” Wyatt repeated the question.

“I tossed it in the next trash can,” Ethan shyly admitted.

Wyatt exploded, “Why would you do that? Tell me you at least looked at the card?”

“Of course I looked at it.”

When Ethan failed to elaborate, something in Wyatt snapped. He didn’t have time to play guessing games. His brother had information that he needed. Nothing. No one. Would stand in the way of him claiming his mate.

The words that left his mouth came out as a growl. “What was her name?”

Ethan blinked up at him with mischief in his eyes. “All the card said was Gerri Wilder: Paranormal Dating Agency.”