No matter how much I pour myself into my work, Nosko is heavy on my mind. It’s ridiculous how quickly he got under my skin. Ridiculous and amazing.

Fear chases just at the edges of my thoughts, though.

The nagging feeling sticks with me, long after the night with drinks with Nosko. The night where I wanted him to come home with me. The night that he didn’t and I was given time to think while not in his intoxicating presence.

Things are moving so fast for me now. Not only with Nosko but at the shop. Varos’ social media blitz is working like a charm. I don’t know what he did or who he contacted but we have had a steady stream of customers, most shifters.

I wouldn’t admit it to the guys now, but I did have those fleeting moments of fear that we couldn’t make a go of it. It’s one thing to have a hobby business, but we need to at least break even to keep the doors open.

Can’t do our love, hobby or business, if the asses aren’t in the chair.

Nosko’s presence in my life threatens all that for me.

Considering the past few nights I’ve gone home completely beat, where in my life is there room for a relationship? Nosko’s a great guy and a fantastic lay. But fated mate or not, he’s a distraction. If I’m going to make the shop successful, I have to prioritize the right things.

As the door chime rings again, it’s clear I need to be careful what I wish for.

“Taran!” Nyve calls from the front. “Your next appointment’s here.”

That would be Nosko. When I saw his name on the appointment list for the day, my heart did a flip in my chest. “Tell him to sit tight, we’re almost done here.”

The honey in the chair now wanted a wolf’s paw on the front of her shoulder to represent her beta mate. It didn’t take long to finish up it up. I walk with her to the front to give her the care instructions and sell a bottle of tattoo goo. Nosko is sitting in the chair, dressed like he just came from work.

Ties really suit him. He looks just like an earnest salesman or something, with a fresh complexion and tousled blinding blond hair. He looks up from where he’s flipping through a magazine and flashes me a toothy smile.

It’s enough to make me regret having any doubts at all. Especially when I know firsthand how those perfect lips fit around my cock.

I take a breath to push all that away. I really need to focus.

“Come on back, Nosko.”

My focus stays on getting my station and my gun ready to work on him so I don’t see him strip his shirt off. The flash of white is the tale-tell sign that he’s worn a t-shirt again. Damn, why is that so cute?

The chair creaks when he sits down and gets comfortable. I adjust the light and fiddle with getting everything situated to avoid looking into his eyes.

Focus. I need to maintain focus.

“How’s the tat doing?” I ask as I slip on my gloves.

He holds his arm out and I pull the light down to get a look at it. The light, coincidentally, also blocks my line of sight for Nosko’s face. “It itched a bit,” he says, and runs a finger along the lines.

“And now?”

“No.”

“Any problems with tenderness or swelling?”

Nosko leans around the lamp to answer. “Nothing after the first couple of nights. Everything okay, Taran?”

Don’t ask me that. I’m not ready to answer. I don’t want to answer, even though I know I need to.

“Yeah. Place has been jumping. Super busy.” I reposition the light, pull my table over, and start the machine. “Looks like we can get the color in tonight and you’ll be done. How do you like how it looks so far?”

“Even if I didn’t get the color, the line work alone is gorgeous.” Nosko wiggles his fingers as the needles start their rhythm in his skin. “I see you guys are packed. There’s not an empty chair in the place.”

“Not sure where they came from.” A quick glance around the shop proves Nosko right. All the guys have someone in their chairs and even a few walk-ins up front. “We may need to revisit our walk-in policy. At least until we get more established.”

“Hmm.”

There’s tension between us now and I know it’s my fault. I need to stay focused on the tattoo.

I work in silence for a bit, wondering if Nosko has dropped off to sleep in the chair. Some clients are like that. The pain is so minimal that the music, the buzz of the machine, the comfort of the chair sends them right to sleep.

“What are you doing after you close?”

Nosko’s question puts me in a bind.

“Thinking about grabbing takeout somewhere and heading home.”

“Would you like some company? Tomorrow is Sunday and the gallery isn’t open.”

I can see where this is heading. My dragon is singing but my heart is fighting it. It’s not a good idea. This moving too fast thing is freaking me out a little and Nosko’s idle chatter about family and love is way beyond what I want to focus on now.

Even if the sex is out of this world, it comes with too many strings.

“It’s tempting.” I inwardly wince at how insincere it sounds.

“Is it?”

Nosko is calling my number. I can be dishonest and relent, or I can follow this path I believe to be right for my life, no matter how much it sucks.

With a deep breath, I lift my head, looking into his eyes for the first time since he walked into the shop. I could get lost in those eyes…

No. Maybe I could but I shouldn’t.

My dragon stirs in restless frustration.

“It really is tempting, Nosko—”

“But…”

I’m tempted to switch off the machine to talk but I’m really too close to completion. I need to finish with Nosko and get him out of the shop before I back out of doing what I know is right for me.

“But,” I finish for him. I could lie or misdirect but my dragon is having fits deep within my chest. Fine. Honesty, then. “Look, you’re a great guy—”

Nosko bursts out laughing. “Oh God, you’re dumping me.”

I have to chuckle with him. “If that’s how you want to look at it.”

“Was it something I said, or did?”

Christ. I turn my machine off and strip the gloves from my hands. “That’s a loaded question and unfair, Nosko. It’s not like that.”

“I’m not following, Taran, that’s all. What happened? I thought we pretty much decided that we knew we were fated for each other. Have you changed your mind?”

My mouth opens, then snaps shut while I try to figure out that answer.

“No. I believe you’re my fated mate, Nosko. But now isn’t a good time for me. The shop is just getting off the ground and I can’t afford the distraction. You’re a distraction.”

Normally, Nosko is so easy to read. His expression is always open and earnest. Right now? It’s hard for me to tell if he’s pissed, or disappointed, or something else.

He nods slowly, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. I want to kiss that away, to tell him that it really isn’t him, that it really is me. My instincts warn me that’s not the way to handle it.

“I’m sorry—”

“No… no, it’s good,” Nosko adds quickly. “It’s fine, really. I guess I kind of expect it because you’re right. You are busy now.” He glances around the shop. My gaze follows his to see just how jumping we are right now. “I mean, it’s unexpected and I guess I stupidly was planning for all sorts of romantic things for us. Wedding, children… all that. It was stupid dreaming and everything.”

Ah geez. “Nosko, it’s not stupid and I’m not saying I don’t want that someday. Just not—”

“Not right now. I get it. You have to do what’s best for you. I mean, I really get it. I just believe that fated mates are more important than business but I get that not everyone believes that. You need to do what’s best for you, just like I should. You have the shop, I have the gallery, and we’re kind of in a pinch and I really should be focused on that.” Nosko looks down at his arm. “Are we done?”

Shit. The door was just slammed shut in my face. I deserve it, sure, but it surprises me how much that stings anyway, even though I was the one who called this off.

“Just a little more color for the claws and it will be.”

And just like that, Nosko settles in the chair, closes his eyes, and shuts me out completely.

We have a disagreement at the counter once I’m done. I really want to gift him the tattoo. I had that on my mind from the beginning. He’s insisting that I give him a price and take his money.

He’s not rude about it. Just insistent, although I am the more stubborn of the two. He leaves the shop with a final glance back, that unreadable look still on his face.

“What’s up with him?” Nyve asks just off his shoulder. I turn to see the older dragon watching me with concern. I really don’t feel like explaining this right now.

“Nothing. Who’s next?”

The rest of the night goes by quickly enough. By the time we’re closing up shop, I’m feeling the tension of the night through my whole body. “I don’t think I’ve done that much work all at once in ages.”

Bronaz stretches long from his chair and then goes boneless. “Feels good, though. I think I could sleep right here all night.”

“I don’t think so,” I say with a nudge of my boot. “Get out of here. I’ll close up.”

Sako grabs the large garbage bag and his jacket. “Don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll drop this off in the dumpster on my way out. I’m heading to Wayward Wings for hot wings and beer. Anyone up?”

“I’ll come with.” Varos sets the cleaning spray back on the shelf and grabs his jacket to follow Sako out.

Nyve and Bronaz help straighten the reception area and I lock the front door behind them.

I gather the money and put it in the safe for the night, police the shop one final time to make sure the guys cleaned around their stations, and kill the lights.

As I lock up out front, activity across the street catches my eye. There’s a crowd gathered around one of the display windows. I dash across the street to the honking of annoyed horns. Thankfully, at my height, I can see over most of the gathered crowd.

A darkened neon sign hangs in the window.

Tattoos.

Are you shitting me? I shift around the side to get a glance in the shop itself. I can see a couple of chairs with stations. Looks like they really are set up to be a tattoo shop, although they don’t have as many stations for artists as we do. It still looks like it’s being remodeled.

In gothic script, the sign above the shop says Immortal Ink.

The buzz in the crowd is excited.

“I can’t believe she’s back.”

“How lucky is it she got her shop back after all this time?”

“She’s amazing, did you see the work she did for Hell’s Duo? They all got matching tattoos for their band logo. It was her design, too!”

Whoever this is, she has a following.

The placard in the door window says Annika’s returning soon.

Competition. That could be good or bad.

In either case, this sucks.

I’m not a complete idiot when it comes to computers and the internet. Varos handles all the social media stuff but I can get around when I need to. It doesn’t take much searching on the terms Annika, Immortal Ink, tattoo to find what I’m looking for.

Annika Amaranthine was a big time tattoo artist a few years back. Her designs were all the rage and she was in high demand. A bit of a loner, she turned away a lot of jobs because she didn’t rent out her chairs to other artists. So she was a one woman show.

The image search pulls up some dizzyingly beautiful designs. I vacillate between being jealous as hell and a little in awe at her artistry. The artist herself is something of a striking beauty with caramel-colored skin, violet eyes, and long, full-bodied auburn hair with gold and purple streaks. A lot of metal and gemstone jewelry graces her fingers and neck. A few tasteful piercings shine.

There’s something about the eyes looking out of the picture. Something familiar on a primal level. If she’s not a shifter of some kind, she missed a damn good calling. But there aren’t any of the usual signs that are giveaways for the kind of shifter she is.

Interesting.

In the most recent blog post I find, she’s standing in front of what I recognize as the shop across the street from my place. So that used to be her old shop.

The blog goes on to say that she had to take some time off to find herself and all that jazz. Now she’s back and ready to work again.

Just… great.

“Not sure there’s anything we can really do.” Bronaz is still standing at the window, as we have our shop meeting before opening.

When I got to work that morning, they were already talking about it.

“How will this work?” Sako flips the coffee stirrer and hits Bronaz in the back of the head.

Bronaz turns and growls low at Sako, who isn’t cowed in the least.

“It’s simple economics,” Nyve offers while he flips through the daily appointment book. “Competition is healthy for a service. If customers have a choice, they’re likely to spend more.”

“Besides,” I snatch the coffee stirrer away from Bronaz before he flicks it back at Sako and drop it in the trash. “I got a look in the shop. She only has two chairs. From what I was reading online last night, she likes to work alone. So no matter how good she is, she only offers one style of tattoo. Hers. We have five artists here. Our selection is larger so it stands to reason that we’ll take more than the lion’s share of business. She may have the more loyal following, because her work is first rate. But we have the numbers and the talent.”

Nyve pats me on the shoulder. “Someone’s been doing their homework.”

“I’m a shit business man if I don’t,” I retort with a flash of my teeth. “And I’m hungry for business.”

Varos lowers his phone. “Is that how you want me to spin it?”

I nod to the other dragon, who gets busy on his phone again.

“Sako, open us for business and put on the music.”

This Annika Amaranthine may be a legend, but she’s about to meet her competition.