Sloane
An itch, the likes of Miles Sloane had never experienced before, skittered over his body like an army of marauding ants. It wasn’t like the itch of an impending shift, but it felt magical just the same.
Weird.
Stranger still was the fact that it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It felt warm and tingly and...
“Earth to Sloane,” Brody said, waving a hand in front of Sloane’s face. “You in there, buddy?”
Sloane blinked. “Huh?”
He glanced around, surprised to see that he and his younger brother were outside Bar Italia already. Sloane must have zoned out on the short walk from the parking lot because he didn’t know how he’d got there. He couldn’t remember a word that Brody had said to him.
What had they been talking about?
Nothing came to mind. He shook his head as if that might have some hope of clearing it, and sucked in a big lungful of air, but far from helping to calm him, the deep breath only put him more on edge.
The beautiful aroma that hung heavily on the air seemed to grow more and more intense. He could practically taste it.
Whatwasthat?
He looked around, trying to locate the source of the smell, but nothing stood out.
“Sloane, what’s wrong?” Brody asked, his voice agitated now. He too looked around, his nose twitching. “Do you smell trouble?”
Sloane shook his head and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “No, no trouble. It’s just...”
The scent grew stronger still, invading Sloane’s senses until it was all he could smell. The polar bear in him rumbled a growl and he felt the animal scratching beneath his skin as if it had been too long since he had been let out.
Sloane couldn’t understand what had got his bear so rattled. He’d just shifted the week before while on a fishing trip with his brothers. It certainly wasn’t the time or place to get furry, but it seemed his animal had other ideas, and no intention of listening to reason. It wouldn’t be denied. Without warning, Sloane’s eyes shifted and suddenly he was seeing the world through his polar bear eyesight.
Brody sucked in a sharp breath. “Jesus Christ, Sloane. What the hell?”
His brother glanced around, evidently checking for humans who might have caught the horror show.
“I can’t help it,” Sloane bit out, his voice sounding more animal than human. “Something’s wrong, I...”
He pulled at the collar of his shirt and took in another deep breath, but that damn smell was stronger than ever—a sweet, floral fragrance that reminded him of summer in Alaska. And had it always been so damned hot in here? Who cranked the heat? Guided by instinct alone, he lurched to his feet and started towards the entrance of Bar Italia, but changed his mind at the last moment and headed around the corner of the plot.
On the other side of the large standalone building, the bar had an outdoor seating area. The smell was coming from around there, Sloane was certain of it.
“Sloane, what the hell, man? Wait up.”
Brody jogged to his side, but Sloane ignored his brother.
He was too distracted by the delicious scent to give his attention to anything or anyone. He was single-minded in his focus to find out where it came from. It was as if the scent called to him—an instinctive pull he found impossible to ignore.
Sloane rounded the corner and when he finally,finally,located the source of the smell, his entire being splintered apart then knitted itself back together again.
It washer.
He’d found her.
His one true mate.
His bear roared and squirmed with joy. It was the moment every shifter spent their lives hoping would one day happen to them. The moment that changed their world and rewrote their entire purpose. At twenty-eight years old, Sloane had found the woman he would spend his life with.
And she was magnificent.
