I couldn’t believe we’d made it here. After everything that happened at dress rehearsal and the broken guitar, I’d really thought I’d lost him. Zack had every reason to walk away.
He didn’t, though. Zack forgave me. I wasn’t used to being forgiven. Usually, I just burned bridges and walked away, but Zack wasn’t like anyone else. He was my mate.
The thought came unbidden, low and sure, deep in my chest where my wolf lived. I froze for a fraction of a second.Mate. Could I really call him that?
We hadn’t claimed each other, hadn’t even talked about it. But every time I looked at him, every time I caught his scent, I knew, and my wolf knew.
“Let’s take a break here,” Zack said, snapping me from my thoughts.
He leaned his guitar against a stool and stretched, the hem of his shirt lifting just enough to tease a line of tempting skin. I swallowed hard.
“Sounds good,” I managed, setting my guitar down.
Zack smiled. “I’m just gonna hit the restroom,” he said.
“Sure thing,” I said, watching him head toward the back hall.
When he disappeared around the corner, I blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over my face.
My pulse hadn’t settled since the moment we started playing. I felt wired, alive, and maybe just a little lovesick. I made my way to the bar, deciding a drink or two might help.
“Hey, Griffin,” I called, sliding onto one of the stools.
The enforcer looked up from polishing a glass, giving me his usual no-nonsense look.
“What’ll it be?” Griffin asked.
“Two lagers,” I said. “One for me, one for Zack.”
He nodded and turned to the taps. I leaned my elbows on the counter, letting my eyes drift to the glowing string lights above the bar, the flickering candles on tables.
The place was comfortably packed tonight. There were the usual locals and a few tourists. The usual mix of shifters and humans who’d learned to coexist without too many questions.
For once, everything felt right, but then, the air shifted, like the hum of static before a storm.
My wolf stirred uneasily, fur bristling under my skin. Griffin froze mid-pour, eyes narrowing toward the door. I followed his gaze just in time to see it slam open.
Theo stumbled inside. He reeked of alcohol, his movements loose and uncoordinated.
That alone was bad news. Shifters didn’t get drunk easily, as our metabolism burned through booze faster than water. If Theo was this wasted, he must’ve chugged half a distillery.
“Oh, great,” I muttered under my breath.
The bar went quieter, conversations tapering off as heads turned. Griffin’s jaw tightened.
The last thing we all wanted was another supernatural brawl in front of humans, especially after what had happened at rehearsal.
Theo’s eyes found me immediately. Of course they did. He staggered toward me, nearly knocking into a chair.
“You,” he slurred, pointing a shaky finger. “This is all your fault.”
I straightened, pulse quickening.
“Theo, you don’t want to do this,” I said, keeping my voice level. “Just leave the bar. Maybe I can call you a cab.”
“Oh, I do,” Theo snarled, voice loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. “You ruined everything. You think you won, huh? Think Zack’s yours?”
A growl threatened to rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
