Zane wasn’t just nervous, he was agitated. His runs hadn’t been helping. Something smelled off in town. There was a faint smell of ozone like when an electrical outlet shorted. It was something he was very familiar with and didn’t know why the whole town smelled that way.

His anger had been building, but he was doing everything he could to make sure that he fit in with his new crew. He wanted to be liked. He wasn’t about to deny it. Without his best friends, he needed the contact of his bearen coworkers to feel like he was still attached to the earth.

Never had he felt so disconnected than he had in the last few weeks. He wanted the feeling to go away. He wanted to feel whole again, he just didn’t know how to do that.

Poppy Woodall’s house seemed like something out of an advertisement for the American Dream Home. Those ads after World War Two that showed happy families with two point five children and a dog in the yard. This house looked like it should be on the cover of a magazine, old but well maintained, and warm. He could swear it was radiating the warmth of love and family.

Ringing the doorbell, he waited with anticipation. He had taken the card from the restaurant. It was in the front pocket of his jeans. He’d been rubbing it like a talisman since he got it. When he traveled with Bruin and Willow to the airport, he had to ask Bruin how he knew that Willow was his. Bruin told him that the True Mates would be named after flora, that they wouldn’t have fathers, and they would have gifts from their real angel father. Zane wasn’t going to assume that someone named Poppy had to be a True Mate, that would be a stretch. There were plenty of woman with names like that. So far only one bearen mate had been found that he knew of.

There had to be a long line of worthy shiften waiting for their mates. Zane the fatherless boy, or at least he felt that way, was probably at the bottom of that list if he was on it at all. He was just here to get that relief he so needed. It was embarrassing to have to seek out paid comfort.

But he also knew that it was still something he couldn’t deny himself.

He looked up as the door opened, the sunlight that was over his shoulder reflected off the stained glass of the window to reveal a woman. Not just any woman. It was like an angel had been dropped to earth and she had The Light shining behind her. The Light was sacred to the shiften. It was the creator of Ula, the earth they lived on, along with humans, Rhen, Khain, and the angels.

Her dark brown hair was curly with pieces framing her face. He could see there was a shine to her lips like she’d either just licked them or was wearing that gloss that made women’s lips taste like chemicals.

“Mr. Rakoff?” the beautiful woman asked, her eyes big and wide on him.

“Yes?”

“Are you not sure?”

“Sorry. I’m—uh—surprised at your age?”

She frowned at him for a moment but then smiled. “I understand, why don’t you come in.”

Zane clenched his hands into fists and pressed them to his sides to keep himself from reaching out for her. She couldn’t be glowing, it must have been a trick of the light. But he couldn’t look away. He breathed her scent in as he walked past her. It was the scent of sugar and jasmine, a floral sweetness that coated his tongue. His eyes rolled back in his head and he felt his chest expand, a vibration starting through his body. It wasn’t something he’d felt before. It came from within him and it was comforting.

“Did you say something?”

Zane tried to clear his throat, he tried to hold back the feeling inside. He coughed then coughed again, getting the purr under control. If Beau or Ren had heard him do that they would never let him live it down.

“Sorry. No, uh…” he was really struggling. Pretty women normally didn’t leave him with cottonmouth. Her scent was hitting him so hard he was finding it distracting. It made him think of things he usually kept buried.

In the past he’d partaken in ruts, but it had been a long time for him. The woman in front of him was at least a foot shorter than him. It made him think about how easy it would be to pick her up and move her around. That made him think of moving her around while they were both naked. He shook that thought off quickly. He didn’t want to be sporting an erection in front of this woman.

She directed him to the kitchen and he followed behind, taking in all of the tiny signs that this was a home. There were flowers in vases, pictures of family framed on the walls. He passed a couch with a blanket draped casually over the arm like someone had recently used it to cover up and take a nap. It was lived in, loved in. It had a feeling that he could feel on his skin.

He entered the kitchen and saw the small table set with a tea set. The kitchen chairs looked a little spindly compared to his large size and he hoped to hell he didn’t make a fool of himself and break one in front of her.

Taking the seat she pointed out, he sat and rubbed his hands over his thighs.

“You mentioned I was younger than you expected?”

“Yes, I had a therapist in Wyoming that was older. I guess I just assumed it was something that older women did.” He heard the lameness pour out of his mouth and wanted to kick himself.

Poppy laughed, she didn’t seem offended. “Well, I’m twenty-five and I like helping people. I’ve been a massage therapist for five years. I started doing cuddle therapy when a friend mentioned it. I wasn’t sure about it but ended up traveling to a seminar to learn more. I loved the idea of healing with touch. I do it every day, but I realized that some people needed a different kind of touch. I appreciate you understanding my need for interviews beforehand. When I first started, well, let’s just say I had a number of people that didn’t want just hugging.”

Zane couldn’t help the growl that rolled out of him. He coughed to clear it up. He saw Poppy raise her eyebrows.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Tea?”

Zane nodded because he wasn’t about to turn down anything this woman offered. She could be serving up razor blades on a bed of glass and he wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t chomp down on it.

“Sugar or honey?”

“Honey please.”

“You’ll like this. It’s locally made. We have a farm in town that harvests the honey. There’s also a restaurant you must try. It’s divine. It’s called the Honey Depot.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“So, tell me about yourself? Why are you looking for this kind of therapy?”

Zane wasn’t sure how much he should tell her. The truth wasn’t nice and it didn’t make him sound very strong. Something pushed him though, something told him that he should tell her why he was really there.

“I have a hard time releasing my anger,” he started. He probably shouldn’t have started with that, but it came out anyway.

“Anger? You’re angry?” She didn’t look scared, just concerned.

“I guess it really doesn’t have to do with my anger. I exercise a lot to get rid of that. It’s just, I didn’t grow up with a mom or any women really.”

“I’m sorry, did your mom pass?”

“Yes. My father sent me away to a… boy’s school. I was surrounded by men and boys my age. I missed out on that nurturing. I found that I feel better, cope better, when I get something close to it. I know it’s just physical, but it helps. My best friends, Beau and Ren, are the only family I’ve ever had.”

He couldn’t believe he just told her about his need to be held. It was embarrassing, but freeing at the same time.

She was quiet a moment. The pretty woman looked thoughtful. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Rakoff,” she said quietly.

“Zane, call me Zane, please.”

“Okay, Zane, I’m Poppy. I think that you’re very brave for being able to know what you need.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it brave. I think it’s more a public service so I don’t lose my shit on someone because I have pent up rage.”

Poppy giggled.

“I’m sorry, Poppy. I didn’t mean to swear.”

“Oh, please, I don’t mind at all. I think it’s very effective when describing certain situations.”

“Also, if you don’t mind. I don’t want anyone else to know about our… sessions.”

“I have complete client-patient confidentiality. I don’t believe in anyone else knowing my business so I’d never share yours. I’m terribly good at keeping secrets.”