Crossed Fates by Lexi C. Foss

Alaric

Mate.

She’s my fucking mate.

Of all the places to stumble upon my fate, it had to be here—in the basement of a Mets fans bar. I nearly groaned, but the blue fire dancing in her pretty gaze suggested that would be an unwelcome greeting. So instead, I cocked my head to the side and asked, “Need a hand, sweetheart?”

“Sweet? Do I look goddamn sweet to you?”

I allowed my gaze to roam over her T-shirt and jeans, noting the curves beneath. She was stunning. Perfectly proportioned. Athletic. Tall for a female, but I still had about seven inches on her. And she possessed an alpha air.

Definitely an ideal mate.

Too bad I didn’t want one.

“Well, you certainly smell sweet,” I murmured. At least to my wolf. The beast prowled inside me, begging to be unleashed. He wanted to claim what was rightfully his—a treat he’d been waiting his lifetime to find.

I didn’t share the sentiment.

Sure, she was hot. I wouldn’t mind a quick fuck up against the bars. But I didn’t have time for an entanglement.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” she said, clearly picking up on the vibes from my hungry wolf.

I arched a brow. “I don’t recall offering.” A groan sounded from the bottom of the stairs while I spoke, causing me to curse out loud. “Damn hybrid.” The son of bitch refused to die.

“Wait!” the pretty, redheaded female called.

I ignored her, pulling out my gun again, and aimed at the asshole’s head. Blood pooled between the creature’s eyes, stalling his shift to monster-form. I’d come face-to-face with that bullshit last night at Blood Thirteen and had no intention of doing it again.

“Eat wood,” I said, whipping out a stake and kneeling to drive it through his chest.

A growl sounded from behind me, causing all the hairs along my arms to dance. I left my stake in the hybrid’s chest and spun to face a fuming redhead. She’d not only lost her cuffs but had also opened her cage.

“Impressive,” I admitted, re-holstering my gun.

“Imbecile,” she tossed back, causing both my eyebrows to shoot upward.

“Excuse me?”

“I was in the middle of interrogating that guy!” She pointed at the very dead hybrid—seemed my stake did the trick, thank fuck—and then shoved that finger in my chest. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

I glanced at her blunt nail, then back up at her, amused. “What kind of wolf are you?”

She startled at my change in topic. “Excuse me?”

“What kind—”

“Yeah, I fucking heard you,” she snapped, dropping her hand and starting to pace.

I folded my arms, my leather jacket creaking a bit with the sound. “Seriously, where are you from?” Because she wasn’t a Bitten wolf, which meant she might not even feel the whole fated-mates call between us. Totemics, Fenrirs, and Lycans all had their own mating rituals, most of which weren’t controlled by soul bonds.

But I didn’t catch any sort of familiar vibe from her, marking her as decidedly other to my wolf’s senses.

She said nothing, walking over to pick up a tablet from a table, then started going through papers and scattering things all over the floor.

“First crime scene?” I wondered out loud. Because she was doing a shit job of keeping her prints off of everything. Not that it mattered. I’d call up a crew from headquarters and have them clean it all up in thirty minutes.

“Nothing,” she said to herself. “Shit.”

“What are you looking for?” I asked, walking toward her.

She spun on her heel and threw up a palm. “Don’t. You’ve already screwed this up enough.”

“Right.” My fated mate was insane. Fantastic. I pulled out my phone to pull up the contact Cleanup Bitches of Eliminate Vampiric Influences Everywhere, abbreviated as E.V.I.E. Cleanup Bitches in my address book, and shot them a text with my location.

My boss, Jude, would be pleased that the hybrid mess had finally come to an end. The bastard had been terrorizing New York City, earning himself the nickname of Bloodsucker Serial Killer. Never a good thing in a world where humans didn’t know vamps or shifters existed. The reporters were far too close to the truth on this one.

The curvy redhead wandered over to the hybrid to search him, her delectable ass a beacon in the air as she bent.

My wolf growled in approval, the sound touching my chest, but I swallowed it before she could hear it.

Although, the look she flashed me over her shoulder suggested she’d sensed it. She also muttered something under her breath that sounded like “Horny wolves,” amusing me further.

“Do you have a name?” I asked her.

“I do.” She pulled a mobile from the hybrid’s pocket and used his thumb to unlock it, then started looking through it.

“And what’s your name?” I pressed when she didn’t elaborate.

“None of your business,” she replied sweetly.

I grunted. “Fate strongly disagrees with that.” Unless I could just make up whatever name I wanted for my supposed mate. But then I’d like a chance to craft her, too. I’d absolutely give her this woman’s body, face, and hair. I’d nix the attitude, though. Make her a little more submissive and needy. Definitely wet. Hard nipples. Mmm, she’d crawl for me and beg to suck my cock, too.

The redhead rolled her eyes as if she could hear my thoughts and grunted. “I think you’ve done enough to ruin my evening. Feel free to see yourself out.”

I chuckled. “Not happening, sweetheart. The cleanup crew will be here in thirty to pick these guys up.” I knew that because a buzz had just landed on my wrist with an ETA. The lab was eager to play with the hybrid and determine his origin.

“To go to E.V.I.E.?” she asked.

I frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Hybrid called you out when he caught you on the security cameras.” She nodded to a set of monitors, then tossed the creature’s phone onto the table. “Well, this was a bust. All blocked numbers and no contacts.” She started muttering to herself again, something about having to find another in.

“Who are you?” I asked, my amusement starting to take a back seat in the face of suspicion. She ignored me again, causing my wolf to pace in irritation. Neither of us took lightly to being disregarded or pushed to the side. I might have been born a human, but I’d very much grown into my alpha soul over the last decade. And I didn’t appreciate this woman acting like I lacked authority in this situation.

“I asked you a question, mate.” I enunciated that last word with a force I felt to my very core, my wolf snarling in agreement. Heel, he wanted to say. Roll over. Beg.

It was a new desire, one I’d hoped never to experience.

Alas, fate had played her hand.

And now I was staring at my destiny.

Assuming I chose to accept it. Most wolves in my position wouldn’t be able to choose, but I’d never wanted a mate. Of course, it was going to play hell with my ability to fuck. So we might have to come up with some sort of arrangement.

“Mate?” she repeated with a snort. “Not even close to my real name.”

“It’s what you are.” The growl in my voice reverberated in my chest as I narrowed my gaze at her. “Don’t tell me you can’t sense it.”

She finally paused to look at me. Really look at me. A glimmer of approval flashed in her gaze, her wolf peeking out to admire what she likely already considered hers.

Our animals recognized our fate.

They connected on a soul-level, their need to rut a sharp instinct that proved difficult to ignore. At least for lesser wolves. But the female before me certainly wasn’t that.

Alpha, my animal recognized. Ideal alpha mate.

I disagreed.

An ideal mate would be on her knees already, begging me to take her.

This woman obviously missed that memo. Maybe I’d hand it to her later. After I figured out who she was, and her heritage.

“You’re a Bitten wolf,” she said after a beat.

“I am.”

“I’m not,” she returned.

“Clearly.” I leaned against the wall near the hybrid’s corpse, both blocking her exit and waiting for my team to arrive. I also intended to handle any issues that might come flying down the stairs in the interim.

I’d learned my lesson last night—the hybrid bastard had friends. A lot of them. Which was how I’d ended up in a chair, wrapped up in silver chains, in the late evening hours. Fortunately, my slayer partner, Violet, had an obsessive vamp admirer who’d helped free us.

Then she’d run off and left me to clean up the mess.

Fine by me, I thought. I’d always preferred to work alone. Just wasn’t expecting to find a pretty shifter waiting for me in a cage. Maybe I’d craft one for her later and make it a playpen she couldn’t break out of.

“We’re not mates.” The redhead uttered the words slowly and precisely, her tone grating.

“We are mates,” I corrected. “But if it’s any consolation, I’m not thrilled about it either. Yet, here we are.”

“No, I don’t accept.”

“There’s nothing to accept.” Our connection snapped into place the moment I caught her scent—a flowery aroma that seemed to wrap a vise around my neck and balls. Had I known I would be castrated tonight, I would have gone out for a good fuck before chasing down the hybrid.

Damn, I’ll never desire another female again. A definite downside to the whole fate process. I’d honestly never expected to run into my other half, because I tended to avoid shifters. The alpha in me had a penchant for taking charge, which caused boundary issues when near a pack.

Hence my lone-wolf status.

“That’s where you’re—”

My phone’s ring cut her off, the sound shrill in the otherwise quiet, dungeon-like room. I pressed my finger to my lips, telling her to be quiet without words, and put the phone to my ear. “Calder,” I said, using my last name.

The female rolled her eyes and started toward me, her destination clear as her eyes drifted up the stairs. I caught her by the arm. Stay, I mouthed as the caller said, “Son,” over the line.

I blinked, surprised to hear my father’s voice. I pulled my phone away to check the time, noting the postmidnight hour. “What’s wrong?” I immediately asked. Not only did he rarely call me, but he also never phoned this late.

The woman beside me twisted out of my hold, causing me to growl in annoyance. “Stop,” I demanded, grabbing her harder this time. “We’re not done yet.”

She snarled.

I replied by squeezing harder, holding her in place. “Sorry, in the middle of a mission and one of the caged animals is overreacting,” I muttered, refocusing on my dad. Then I repeated, “What’s wrong?”

The words had barely left my mouth when the she-devil grabbed a knife from my belt and thrust it into my shoulder before I could even think to react.

My phone fell from my hand as my father’s reply floated in the air between us.

“It’s your brother.” My phone clattered to the ground, my wolf senses picking up the words that followed as agony ripped down my arm. “Alaric, Tyler’s been poisoned.”