Page 5 of Bite for Sore Eyes

But the communicator's display showed an unfamiliar contact designation, which only deepened Rath's frown. Unknown callers to his private line were rare enough to be concerning, especially during a period when their territory's defenses had proven unreliable.

He activated the device with a sharp tap. "Rath Varkesh."

"Oh, wonderful! I was hoping I'd catch you." The woman's voice filled the terrace, her tone warm, confident, and immediately commanding attention.

Rath's eyebrows drew together as he glanced at Torren, who had straightened in his chair with sudden interest. The voice was unfamiliar, yet something about it seemed to resonate in ways that made his bear stir with curious attention.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" Rath asked, even as he moved to activate the speaker function so Torren could participate in whatever conversation was about to unfold.

"Gerri Wilder, dear. From the Paranormal Dating Agency."

The name hit Rath like a punch. Every shifter on Nova Aurora had heard stories about the legendary matchmaker whose success rate bordered on the supernatural. Tales of fated mates found across impossible distances, of bonds discovered between the most unlikely pairs, of love that transformed not just individuals but entire communities.

"Gerri Wilder," he repeated, his voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and growing alarm. "The matchmaker."

"The very one. And I have the most wonderful news for you both."

Torren had abandoned all pretense of eating, his attention fixed on the device with a piercing intensity. Around them, the peaceful morning sounds of the terrace—the distant crash of waves, the rustle of purple leaves in the breeze—seemed to fade into insignificance.

"I've found your fated mate," Gerri continued, her voice bubbling with obvious delight.

The words hung in the air between them like a challenge. His mind, trained to process information quickly and efficiently, struggled to make sense of what he'd just heard.

"What do you mean?" Rath asked, his bear's confusion translating into a clipped tone. "Did you find my fated mate, or Torren's?"

"Well, actually," Gerri said, her tone suggesting she was thoroughly enjoying their obvious bewilderment, "I found one human woman from Earth who happens to be the fated mate for you both."

The communicator slipped from Rath's suddenly nerveless fingers. Only Torren's reflexes, honed by years of combat training and crisis response, prevented the device from clattering to the stone floor. He caught it smoothly, his own expression reflecting the same shock that had rendered Rath momentarily incapacitated.

"How is that possible?" Rath managed, his voice rougher than usual as his bear responded to news that challenged every assumption about mate bonds he'd ever held.

"These things happen from time to time. Although it's rare," Gerri replied with casual confidence. "But you should feel excited about this. After all, you two share everything in your lives—sharing a mate shouldn't be too difficult."

Torren's face had shifted through several expressions during Gerri's explanation, landing on something that looked suspiciously like anticipation. The change was so marked that Rath found himself studying his co-Alpha with new attention, recognizing an eagerness he hadn't seen in months.

"Her name is Lana Morales," Gerri continued, apparently oblivious to the emotional earthquake she'd just triggered, "and I'll be bringing her to your castle in two hours."

The timeline hit Rath like a second shock. Two hours. Not two days, or two weeks, but two hours before his entire world would change in ways he couldn't predict or control.

"I don't think this is a great time," he began, his mind immediately cataloging the dozen urgent matters that demanded his attention. The security failures. The council meetings. The territorial assessments that couldn't be postponed. "We have several critical situations that require⁠—"

"See you soon!"

The line went dead with cheerful finality and Rath stared at the silent communicator in Torren's hands. The rational part of his mind insisted this was impossible timing, that accepting a fated mate now would only add chaos to an already unstable situation. But the deeper part of him, the part connected to his bear's instincts, hummed with something that felt dangerously close to excitement.

"We have the same fated mate," Rath said slowly, testing the words carefully.

Torren's response came with a grin that transformed his entire expression. "Well, that certainly makes things interesting, doesn't it?"

The enthusiasm in his co-Alpha's voice only emphasized how differently they were processing this development. Where Rath saw complications and timing issues, Torren apparently saw possibilities and adventure. It was a perfect example of how their leadership partnership had always functioned—Rath's caution balanced by Torren's willingness to embrace change.

But this wasn't a political decision or military strategy. This was their fated mate, arriving in less than two hours, when their castle wasn't prepared and their lives were already stretched thin with crisis management.

Rath's bear stirred restlessly, torn between protective instincts that demanded perfect preparation and anticipation that made his skin feel too tight. If Lana Morales was truly their mate, she deserved better than being thrust into the middle of unexplained security failures and political tensions. She deserved a home that was ready for her.

"We need to prepare a guest room immediately," Rath said, his voice shifting into the decisive tones that had guided the sleuth through countless challenges. "And it needs to be perfect."

The words triggered a cascade of mental calculations. Which room would offer the best combination of comfort, privacy, and security? How quickly could they arrange for appropriate clothing without knowing her measurements? Should they alert the castle staff, or would that create unnecessary attention before she'd had time to adjust?