“Of course.” Peter reached over and squeezed Quain’s hand. “Mates don’t abandon oneanother.”
“Put both hands on the wheel.” Quain grinned when Peter obeyed. Peter’s unequivocal support eased his fear. It said good things about the health of their bond if Peter was willing to walk away from everyone to keep Quain happy. Peter acted as though it was an accepted thing that he would automatically back him. Quain didn’t bring up the instances in which he’d heard of mates leaving their fated partner because they were simply incompatible. If Peter wanted to believe their mating was unbreakable, Quain wouldn’t be the one to disillusion him. Besides, in the cases where mates had broken up, neither of them had survived, and he planned on living a long and healthy life withPeter.
After a short drive, Peter pulled up behind a tall building with some sort of dance club on the bottom floor. “What are we doinghere?”
“This is the packhouse.”
“But, where are the trees?” Quain stared at the sleek, modern building, trying to make sense of a wolf pack in the middle of the city. Lynx didn’t really care about running in the woods, but he thought packs were different. At least their headquarters should be in the middle of apark.
“The pack owns land we go to when we want to run.” Peter grinned. “Don’t worry. Our wolves get plenty of exercise. It’s more important to have contact with other wolves than to have pretty greenery around us. Do you live in aforest?”
“Well, no, but I always thought wolf packs were more nature oriented.” Maybe his expectations of wolves were tooromanticized.
“We’re humans too, and unfortunately, squirrels refuse to pay a living wage.” Peter exited the truck, then walked around the hood to open the passenger door forQuain.
“Thanks.” He blushed, not used to courtesy by anyone not paid to drivehim.
He slid out of the vehicle, then stepped to the side so Peter could close thedoor.
Peter wrapped an arm around Quain’s waist. “We’ll go in through the kitchens. The main club is busy this time ofnight.”
Booming music pouring from the building had Quain nodding his agreement. “I guess you guys are party animals afterall.”
A laugh brightened Peter’s stern face. “Some of us are. Others prefer to socialize at home. Usually only those working the club, or unmated, hang around downstairs at night. During the day, Silver sometimes holds pack meetings here because it’s the largest space other than packgrounds.”
They reached the back entrance of the club. A large metal door took up a good portion of the wall. Grinning, Peter pounded on it with his fist. Several minutes later, an enormous scarred man answered Peter’sknock.
“Sorry, Peter. I had to take the muffins out of the oven. Anthony hates the smell of anything burning,” the big manrumbled.
Quain quickly pushed back his instincts to run and hide as the scent of a powerful wolf wafted to him. Although not overly submissive, Quain was far from an alpha animal. He could claw out someone’s eyes as well as the next feline, but he preferred to sweet talk rather thanswat.
“It’s all right, Henry. Anthony and Silver are expecting us. This is my mate,Quain.”
Henry sniffed the air, then grinned. “Dare will be happy to have more kittycompanionship.”
Peter nodded. “Hewill.”
Quain didn’t bother to tell the smiling wolves that all cat shifters didn’t necessarily bond like wolves, but he did roll his eyes when they weren’twatching.
“Come on in.” Henry held the door open for them as he stepped back out of theway.
Quain froze three steps into the building when a white-haired man with ice-cold blue eyes approached. If he thought Henry exuded a strong scent, he was a puppy compared to the wolf energy pouring off the smaller man. Quain barely dared to breathe as his lynx curled up into a tight ball inside him to avoid notice. He might be willing to take on wizards and other shifters, but this was a different beast. He preferred his throat not ripped out, thank you verymuch.
“My mate, Dakota,” Henry said from behindthem.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Quain.” He straightened his shoulders, refusing to cower behind Peter even if the air stank with his terror. Peter stepped protectively closer to place a hand on hisback.
“Welcome to the pack.” Despite his feral expression, Dakota’s soft, sincere welcome eased Quain’s fear down a fewnotches.
“Don’t worry. Dakota’s like that with everyone. He used to be a real wolf,” Peterwhispered.
“Ah.” He pretended to understand and silently vowed to ask more questions later. He barely held back a shiver from Peter’s hot breath against his ear. He led Quain out of the kitchen after refusing a snack from Henry who oozedcalm.
He didn’t dare speak again until they were well down the hall. “How are those two mated?” The strong contrast between them didn’t scream a good match to Quain. Shouldn’t mates have corresponding personalities? Sure, he wasn’t a Peter clone, but he wasn’t his polar oppositeeither.
Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, but it seems to work for them. I’ve stopped trying to guess what draws people to being mates after joining the Moon Pack. None of the partners here are what I would classify as typical matingpairs.”
“You get that away from him, or I will curse you!” someone shrieked down thehall.
