Page 3 of Iced Out Mate

I took a step forward and broke the silence.

“Hi,” I said, greeting my fated mate.

Chapter Two

Do You Smell That?

MILES

There was something soothing about running through the rain.

Maybe it was because my dad always said it reminded him of Mom. How she’d open all the windows in the house just so she could smell the rain, not caring if some of the windowsills got wet. My dad would walk around drying them off with towels—he said he’d much rather see my mom smiling than caring about a little water damage.

And from the pictures he’d show me, I could understand why. My mom’s smile had been electric. It would stretch from ear to ear, dimpling her cheeks and lighting up any room she was in.

On the rare occasions I smiled, I could catch a faint resemblance.

I ran through the woods in my wolf form. It had only been a day since I moved to town. There were so many new scents and sights to explore. I’d already spoken to Emmy, the alpha of the Burlington pack—one of my best friends since childhood—and he should have let the rest of them know about me. I didn’t want to be a lone wolf stumbling onto another pack’s territory. Typically, that wasn’t a situation that made for amicable greetings.

I’d be meeting everyone in a couple days anyway. Most of them played on the Burlington Bobcats, which meant they’d be working closely with their new athletic trainer.

Me.

Not that shifters really needed much time with the trainer considering our healing abilities kept most injuries at bay. But in order to keep up appearances, I still expected them to show up in my office for the occasional stretches and check-ins. A couple fake injuries also helped sell the whole “there are no supernatural hockey players on the team” thing.

The rain started to ease up. I slowed my pace, sniffing around for any interesting scents I could follow. The gamey smell of deer drifted in from the west, mixed with something else I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

I took off running, not caring about being silent. This wasn’t a hunt. I leaped over a fallen log, swerving around a thick copse of bushes which caused three rabbits to bolt from their cover. A primal instinct made me ditch my original plan and chase after the frightened creatures. They’d survive today—although they didn’t know it—but at least I’d give them a bit of a workout.

Even in my wolf form, I was a good physical therapist. Always thinking about others and whatnot.

The rabbits zipped through the woods like tiny brown comets. I locked in on their fluffy white tails as I swerved around trees and dove through bushes. The thrill of the chase made me run faster, pushing my muscles, making my heart pound in my chest. I rarely got to do this in the Philly neighborhood I moved from—and by rarely, I meant never. I’d have to drive quite a bit out of town just to find a place I could safely shift. It would typically take around three weeks before I got the incessant itch to turn into my wolf form.

There were a couple of reasons why I was excited for this move, some more intense than others, but being able to shift whenever I wanted was up there at the top of the list.

The woods began to open as the rabbits led me into a clearing filled with yellow and orange marigolds. A stream snaked around the edge, its clear surface dappled with the falling drops of rain. The fleeing rabbits splashed across the water and disappeared into the brush on the other side.

I let them escape. The chase was over. I padded over to the stream, dipped my head down and lapped at the fresh water.

Damn, even the water tasted better here than in Philly. I should have made this move years⁠—

Another wolf.

I scented it before I heard the rustling from behind me. And it wasn’t a regular wolf, either. It had the unique mix of human and animal to it.

Another shifter.

I stood tall with my ears up and tail raised. Body language was everything when meeting other wolves, whether they were shifters or not. I tended to be more dominant so I kept that apparent in how I stood, and instinctively bared my teeth. I dipped my head slightly while keeping eye contact with the other wolf.

The shifter had a beautiful coat, even drenched with rain. They seemed as surprised as I was before collecting themselves and becoming submissive to my presence. The wolf flattened his ears, closed his eyes and lay down. They appeared seconds away from rolling over and showing their belly.

I decided to shift then. Whoever this was, I wanted to greet them with words, not just body language. It took me only a handful of seconds before I was back in my human form, standing tall at six feet, wearing the same workout clothes I had on before shifting. The wolf raised its head and locked those amber-golden eyes on mine. A shifting haze consumed its form, growing taller as they went from four legs to just two, the mirage-like effect dissipating and leaving behind a man.

An incredibly handsome man. One with a friendly smile that immediately dispelled any tension in the air. The raindrops fell down his forehead. An interesting white streak crossed from his left eyebrow to the side of his head, slashing through his golden-blond buzz cut. It was as if someone had taken a paintbrush and decided a streak of white would look good on him.

And they were right.

“Hi,” he said, not moving, gaze pinned on me. There was something else there. Almost like he was analyzing me. Drinking me in.