“And this year I’m going to drag two hundred feet of charged hose and hit the target.”
“Hope so.” He shoved the rest of the hot dog in his mouth.
I loved this. The barbecue, the verbal sparring, and the sense of belonging to a crew that had my back both on calls and atcompetitions. Station 9 was home, and the Lennox Cup was our Super Bowl. I'd been running with a weighted vest for three weeks, hauling hose on my own time, and doing grip work until my forearms burned. This year, we weren't just winning, we were going to humiliate Station 12.
You're showing off, my dragon observed.
It’s called manifesting these days.
My dragon had opinions about everything. Since adolescence, he'd never once had a thought he didn't share. If I ate something he didn't like, he told me. If I wore a shirt he thought was ugly, he’d let me know. If I was about to do something silly, which was often, according to him, he'd narrate it, making it sound like a wildlife documentary.
And here we have the omega approaching the barbecue, unaware that mustard is dripping on his shirt.
Damn. I wiped the yellow streak off my chest and hoped nobody noticed.
The park was filling up. Both stations were staking their territory on opposite sides as if we were conducting a turf war with folding chairs. Station 12 was across the field in their red shirts, looking annoyingly well-equipped even at a barbecue. Their captain had one of those fancy coolers that kept ice frozen for a week. Ours was a foam box from the gas station.
“I heard their lieutenant has been drilling them every day for a month.” Hallie wandered over to steal my chips. She was our newest firefighter and she was still in her probationary year.
“Good for him.” I swiped the chips back. “Drilling doesn't mean winning.”
“Have you seen him, though?” She craned her neck toward Station 12's side. “He’s tall with dark hair and dimples.”
“And he’s the competition.” I cut her off because I didn't need to hear about how attractive the opponents’ lieutenant was. “Keep your eyes on the prize.”
The prize is a dusty trophy, my dragon reminded me.And the right to brag for twelve months.
I was halfway through my second hot dog when a scent cut through the smoke and grass and sunscreen and hit me so hard in the chest, I stopped chewing. It was deep and warm, like woodsmoke, and it made the hairs on my arms stand up and my belly flip.
My dragon went from lounging to standing at full attention, and for the first time ever, he was speechless. That lasted about three seconds.
Mate,he bellowed inside my skull, and I flinched. Briggs gave me a look.
“Cramp.” I pressed a hand to my side.
Mate, mate, mate, mate!
I get it!I scanned the crowd, as my beast insisted I find him.
He was by the drinks table, an alpha in a Station 12 shirt and with a jaw that appeared to be made of granite. He was holding a water bottle and staring at nothing, but his body was rigid as if he'd been hit by something he didn't see coming.
It was Station 12's lieutenant. The universe had to be kidding me.
Go to him, my dragon demanded.Right now. Walk across this park and claim him.
No way was I going to claim the Station 12 lieutenant in front of both crews at the Lennox Cup kickoff barbecue.
My beast was doing the dragon equivalent of pacing and snarling. That translated to a buzzing sensation under my skin and an urge to abandon my hot dog and sprint toward an alpha I'd never met.
I shoved the rest of the food in my mouth. That was my version of staying calm. My heart was thudding so loudly I was sure Briggs could hear it, and a flush crept over my face. Briggs gave me an odd look.
“The hot dog went down the wrong way.” I thumped my chest and coughed.
I risked another glance at the alpha. He was still by the drinks table. He was pretending to scan the crowd, the way you do when you're trying not to stare at someone. But his gaze was on me.
I'd heard about the fated mating connection from other shifters and the pull that was supposed to be undeniable. I'd always figured it would happen somewhere else, but not here and not withhim.
“I’m going to get ice.” I stood up so fast the picnic bench rocked, and Hallie grabbed her drink before it toppled.
