But watching them now—Leo dipping Junie low while she laughed, the mate mark visible on her shoulder where her dress dipped—Beck felt nothing but ease. Not the burning kind of feeling. The gentle kind. The kind that came from genuinely wanting good things for people you cared about.
His wolf had never reacted to Junie the way Leo’s lion had. Beck had told himself for years that it didn’t matter, that mate bonds were rare and plenty of shifters built happy lives without them. But seeing the way Leo tracked Junie’s every movement, the way his entire body gravitated toward her like she was the center of his world…
Beck understood now what he’d been missing. What he’d been settling for.
His feelings for Junie had been real. They hadn’t beenthat.
“You’re brooding.”
Theo materialized beside him, because, of course, he did. The Alpha had an uncanny ability to appear exactly when Beck least wanted company.
“I’m contemplating.” Beck took a sip of his whiskey.
Theo leaned against the bar, following Beck’s gaze to the dance floor. “You okay?”
“I’m great. Excellent. Never better.”
“Beck.”
“I’m fine, Theo.” And he meant it. “Really. I’m happy for them.”
Theo studied him, doing that alpha thing where he seemed to see straight through every defense Beck had ever constructed. Then he nodded, apparently satisfied.
“Good. Because Avine’s about to make you dance with her aunt, and I need you functional.”
“Her aunt is eighty-seven years old.”
“And spry. She pinched my ass at the last pack gathering.”
Beck laughed—genuine, surprised—and the lingering melancholy dissolved. This was what he loved about Haven Shores. No matter how complicated things got, there was always someone ready to drag him back to the present.
Theo clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd, probably to rescue some unfortunate pack member from Avine’s enthusiastic matchmaking relatives. Beck turned back to the bar, signaling for another whiskey he still didn’t want.
That’s when someone bumped into him.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry—”
Beck turned, an easy smile already forming, a quip about watching where she was going ready on his tongue.
The words died in his throat.
Auburn hair, darker than Junie’s but with the same wild curl. Eyes wide with embarrassment, a flush climbing her cheekbones.
His wolf went absolutely still.
Then:Mate.
The word thundered through him like a physical blow. Not a suggestion. Not a maybe. A certainty so profound, it rewrote everything Beck thought he knew about himself.
His wolf had never reacted like this. Not to Junie. Not to anyone. In twenty-nine years of existence, the animal had been content, quiet, occasionally interested but never urgent. Never this roaring, overwhelming demand that drowned out every other thought in Beck’s head.
“I wasn’t watching where I was going.” The woman was saying, oblivious to the fact that Beck’s entire world had shifted on its axis. “The crowd moved and I—are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Beck opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
“I’m fine.” His voice came out rough, scraped raw by the wolf’s demands. “I’m—yeah. Fine.”
Smooth. Real smooth.
