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  “No, I’m good.”

  I gave her one of those looks that told her without saying a word she was being crazy. “No, seriously. I’ll get John and tell him I’ll take you. Besides, you can’t be giving people drinks with blood dripping down your arm.”

  She chuckled softly and nodded.

  Just then the back door opened and John walked in, a large box of liquor bottles in his arms. He stopped when he saw us standing by the door, then looked lower to see the shards of glass and the blood on the floor. He set the box aside and rushed over to us in a matter of seconds, rambling about what had happened and looking at Rhea’s hand.

  After telling him the story, he ran a hand over the back of his neck and exhaled. “We have to take you to the hospital, Rhea.”

  “I can take her,” I said.

  He shook his head. “No, I better since this happened at work and I’m her employer.” He smiled at Rhea and chucked her under the chin. “Besides, I feel responsible and want to make sure I hear everything.”

  I nodded, understanding.

  Rhea looked between both of us, this apologetic expression on her face, as if she’d meant to get cut and was saying sorry.

  “What about my tables? Maggie can’t handle that crowd all by herself.”

  “I got this,” I said instantly, even though I didn’t know the first thing about being a waitress. They looked at me like I might’ve been crazy and I smiled.

  John looked a little apprehensive at first, and I knew it wasn’t because he thought I couldn’t handle it, but more because I would get overwhelmed. I was sure I would, but I could do this. If I could handle my grandmother’s crusty attitude on the daily, I could certainly handle a bunch of rowdy patrons in a bar.

  “I got this,” I said again. “Go to the hospital and get your hand checked out.”

  John nodded and then was heading out the back door. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, mouthing “thank you” before leaving with Rhea and closing the door behind him.

  I cleaned up the shards of glass, then disinfected the blood. Adrenaline pumped through my body after everything was where it should be. Going over to the sink, I washed up and rested my hands against the basin, breathing out. It wasn’t like this was brain surgery. I was just going out there and giving drinks to customers.

  Turning and heading out through the door that led to the main bar area, the scent of cologne, sweat, and beer filled my head. I looked to my left and saw the bar, a line of people around the raised, glossy top, drinks in front of them, the noise earsplitting.

  Looking straight ahead, I saw every table filled to the max. Rhea hadn’t been the only waitress on duty tonight, but even with Maggie slinging drinks it was too much for her. The bar was filled to capacity, and already I could feel my nerves heighten.

  Breathing out slowly, I gathered myself and went to the bar, ready to get this done. John had given me a chance with this job when I didn’t think anyone would. And Rhea had been friendly to me since day one. The least I could do was help out. Besides, it’s not like I couldn’t use the tips.

  I went to the bar and started grabbing the drinks, taking note of where they went and making my way around the room. The music was blasting, filling my ears, already causing a headache, but I pushed past it and did my job.

  I grabbed six large beers, set them on my tray, and all I could think about was falling on my ass and dropping the drinks everywhere.

  I took another deep breath and focused, collecting myself.

  Then I made my way toward the back where the drinks were going. I stopped for a moment when I saw the men at the table. They were huge, obviously tall even when sitting, their bodies bigger and more muscular than I’d ever seen before.

  They couldn’t be human, not with their size, not with the air that surrounded them and the fact everyone seemed to stay away from their table.

  Shifters. But what kind?

  Wolves? Lions? Bears? Something more exotic?

  I swallowed, my heart racing, my hands starting to shake. I held onto the tray tighter, my gaze landing on each of them.

  And then I looked at one of the men in particular, his short dark hair slightly messy, his eyes so blue I could even make that out from where I stood. Something in me tightened, the blood rushed through my veins and I felt this pull in me. It was strong, the strongest thing I’d ever felt. It was this clenching in my belly, this realization that I knew him even though I’d never seen him before.

  “Hey, I haven’t seen you here before.”

  I turned and stared at the man who had just spoken, the stench of beer slamming into me instantly.

  I smiled, the tray feeling heavy as I stood there, as if bricks were on top of it.

  The drunk guy eyed me up and down, swayed a little as he held his beer, and grinned wider. “No, I’ve never seen you here before. You’re new.”

  He took a step closer. “I can show you around, take you out, buy you some food.”

  Buy me some food?

  I almost snorted at that line.

  “Although,” he said and came closer, “I can think of a much better time than eating a burger.”

  “Yeah, thanks, but I’m pretty busy.” I smiled and turned but felt his hand on my arm. I stopped and looked over at him at the same time I felt this intense sensation move through me, this foreboding that something was about to happen, something that would change everything from this point on.

  Chapter Two

  Zakari

  I smelled her before I saw her, this addicting aroma that was sweet yet spicy, soft and delicate. It had my entire body tightening, had my heart racing wildly. I curled my hands around the edge of the table, my nails starting to turn into claws as my bear rose to the surface.

  Ours.

  My human mate.

  My bear’s mate.

  That lone word was a growl inside of me, this feeling of completion, acceptance filling me completely. I slowly lifted my head and saw her, long dark hair in loose waves cascading down her back. She was standing to the side, her profile perfectly displayed. A tiny nose and gorgeous, pouty red lips.

  I lowered my gaze to her chest, where large breasts—a perfect handful for me—pressed suggestively against the material of her shirt. I growled low again, this time knowing my brothers could hear it. She held a tray of six beers. Our drinks. She was coming here, to this table, as if fate had perfectly aligned this moment for our paths to cross.

  Take her.

  Claim her.

  Make her know she is ours.

  I needed to know everything there was to know about her, what she liked, what her voice sounded like, how she felt beneath me. I needed to know how she looked when she was lying in my bed, her hair spread out across my pillow, her mouth open as she moaned when I pushed my thick cock deep within her pussy.

  Fuck.

  I was sporting wood right now, a hard, stiff erection that pressed against my zipper uncomfortably. I was only focused on her. It didn’t matter if we were in a room full of people, she was my sole focus, the only person on this fucking planet who meant anything to me now.

  My brothers were family, but she was life.

  My life.

  Bethany

  The drunk still held onto my forearm, refusing to let me go. He lifted his other hand and reached out as if he meant to touch my hair, as if he wanted to push it off my shoulder.

  Before I could push him away, to finish working and fend off another drunken patron, someone had the tray out of my arms, set aside, and then hands grabbed me around the waist. I was gently moved behind a very large, very masculine body.

  I knew who it was even though I couldn’t see his face, even though the only thing that took up my view was a large, very muscular back. This man was so big, so strong, that his body blocked out everything else. The scent of him filled my nose and I felt myself soften, felt my body become pliant as if I had no control over it.

  I took a step back when the shifter moved forward, going clos
er to the man who’d been hitting on me, the drunk who thought I was offering more than I was. The heat that came from him was intense and powerful, and I could practically feel his rage fill the air, coating me, surrounding me like a thick blanket.

  “Zakari,” the drunk slurred. “I didn’t know she was yours.”

  Zakari.

  That name filled my head, moved through my body. I didn’t know him, but I knew him.

  The hair on my arms stood on end.

  “You touched her,” Zakari said in this distorted voice. “You touched what was mine.” In the next second Zakari slammed his fist into the drunk’s face, causing him to stumble back at the same time his head cocked back from the force. Zakari reached out and wrapped his hand around the other man’s throat.

  The gurgling sound that came from the drunk was loud and I felt my anxiety rise.

  God, Zakari made the other man look so small and weak … so human.

  “Zakari,” the drunk choked out.

  “You look at her again, talk to her, touch her, fucking think of her, I’ll tear the limbs from your body and feed them to the wolves.”

  No one moved, no one stopped Zakari. It was like they knew that getting involved would make this worse.

  Zakari leaned in so they were nose-to-nose. “Do you understand me?” His voice was low and harsh, deadly and promising.

  I found myself backing away, not sure why I retreated, but knowing that I was the center of this. I watched as the drunk tried to pry Zakari’s hand away from his throat but failed.

  And then he tossed the drunk aside as if he weighed nothing at all, as if he were a bother, a gnat flying around his face. The bar seemed to stand still, the music still loud, yet all the patrons staring right at them. One of the other shifters who had been seated at the table walked up to the man who’d intervened on my behalf. He said something too low for me to hear. Yet my shifter protector kept his focus trained right on me the whole time. I felt like he could see into my very soul.

  My heart was beating fast as I stared at him, felt this pull, this connection. It was strange, unusual, but all powerful. I couldn’t have ignored it even if I wanted to. It was as if I had known him my whole life, as if we weren’t meeting for the first time. There was something in his eyes, something frighteningly possessive and animalistic, that told me one thing.

  I was his.

  I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as I watched the shifter take a step toward me, and then another. He was so much bigger than me, towering over my five-foot-five frame by at least a foot. I felt my hands shake, my nerves right at the surface.

  He was just a few inches from me now and I watched as he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly. God, could he smell that I was aroused right now? The low growl that came from him told me that he could. It was like a dream, one that I didn’t want to wake up from. But I was humiliated that the shifter knew I was wet, knew I wanted him.

  “Female,” he said on this low, rough sound, his voice distorted, his eyes flashing yellow briefly. On instinct, I took a step back. I wasn’t afraid of him, felt nothing but intense, burning desire for this man I’d just met. But it was as if my body knew this male was dangerous, that he could crush my bones with little effort.

  I glanced to my right and saw the other five men that had been sitting at the table with him. They all stood off to the side, watching us, this knowing expression on their faces. I had no idea what was going on. But I had to get out of here, had to get away from the man in front of me, the one who made me feel like I was walking on a tightrope ready to plummet to the ground below.

  Licking my lips, I slowly breathed out.

  “I should get back to work,” I whispered and took a step to the side. But he followed my moves, taking the same steps, still in front of me.

  “My female,” he said in that distorted, animalistic voice of his, one that was very much possessive.

  A shiver raced up my spine and I curled my hands against my sides. He inhaled deeply again, and this low rumble left him, seeming to fill the entire bar, drowning out the heavy bump of music surrounding us. He took another step toward me and I moved one back. We did this dance of retreating and following until I felt the wall stop my retreat.

  I placed my hands flat behind me, the brick of the wall rough and cold against my palms. I tilted my head and looked into his handsomely rugged face. He had a day’s worth of scruff covering his jaw, and now that I was really focusing on him I could see lines and shapes of tattoos creeping up from underneath the white undershirt he wore.

  Glancing down at his hands, which were curled into tight fists at his side, I could see ink on those as well. His red flannel covered his arms, having me curious to know if those were covered in tattoos as well.

  I should’ve moved away from him, gone to the back room, collected myself. I couldn’t very well bail on Maggie, not when the bar was still packed to the brim, not when I’d promised John and Rhea that I’d handle things.

  Yet here I was, sandwiched between a rock and a hard place … literally.

  And yeah, the man before me was very hard.

  I couldn’t help but lower my gaze to his crotch, his worn denims molding to his massive thighs, ones that seemed as big as tree trunks. And the bulge he sported, the clear definition of a very long, very thick and hard erection, had my throat tightening and my mouth drying.

  I snapped my gaze up to his face to see he was watching me, the corner of his mouth tilted up in this satisfied smirk. He’d seen me looking at what he had below the belt, and I felt my face heat. I knew it was red. He took another step toward me and my entire body froze, my breath stalling in my lungs, my eyes feeling wide as saucers.

  My head was still craned back so I could look at his face. He was now right in front of me, his chest at my face level. God, he was big. All I could feel was this mesmerizing pull. I wanted to throw myself in his arms, press my body against his, see if he was as hard as he looked.

  He placed one hand on the brick wall beside my head and leaned down close, our faces only inches apart, his mouth so close to mine that if I leaned forward I could kiss him. God, I was burning alive. I had no idea what was wrong with me, no clue why I was having this reaction to a stranger.

  “You’re not very good with personal space, are you?” I had no idea where the words came from, why they decided to come out in that moment, but they hung between us for a suspended moment before he grinned, flashing straight white teeth. If possible, the air seemed to grow thicker around us, the heat causing beads of sweat to form between my breasts.

  “When it comes to my mate, I’m not close enough.” He growled those words and I felt them in my very core, so deep within my body I couldn’t even think straight.

  I tightened, trying to strengthen my resolve, to get control of myself. I found myself moving to the side, slipping under his arm, and making my way toward the bar. I could get through the rest of this night, could focus, work, and not let this beast of a man have me feeling on edge.

  I stopped at the bar and told myself not to look over at him, yet I felt his gaze on me, knew he watched me, felt it as if he were touching me, skating his fingers down my body. Looking over my shoulder at him despite telling myself not to, I saw he watched me still, his head slightly lowered, his eyes at half-mast.

  God, he looked so … territorial.

  He looked like he owned me.

  And the way I felt right now told me … he did.

  Chapter Three

  Zakari

  I let her walk away but I wasn’t taking my eyes off her, even if I wanted to, which I sure as fuck didn’t. My bear refused to let his mate go. But I had sensed, smelled, how nervous she had been, how confusing all of this was to her. I couldn’t blame her. She was human and probably wasn’t as well versed in shifter matings as I was.

  But regardless, she was mine.

  I forced myself to move back to the table with my brothers, keeping my focus trained right on the woman who was
made solely for me.

  “Your mate,” Oli said and I glanced over at him, giving him a sharp nod, feeling my jaw go tight, my teeth clashing together. It was taking everything in me not to go up to her right now and toss her over my shoulder. I wanted her in my bed, in my home. I wanted her surrounded by my things, my scent covering her, my mark covering her long, slender neck.

  I wanted all of that with each passing second. I grew even more impatient. But I reminded myself she was human and I had to take my time, go slow, be gentle. That went against every instinct in me. I’d waited a lifetime for her, dreamed of her, jerked off to the thought of her.

  There had been no one else for me, no one who could sate my desires, no one who even interested me. Because my very soul knew that she was the only one who could give me what I needed, pleasure me, complete me.

  “Your control astounds me,” Cason said and I grunted, taking the beer in front of me and downing it in one long swallow.

  I felt my brothers’ gazes on me, smelled their jealousy over the fact I’d finally found my mate. They still searched, still waited. And their time would come. I had no doubt about that.

  “What are you going to do?” Damon asked and leaned forward.

  “What am I going to do?” I looked at each of my brothers. There was a collective murmur from them. No doubt they wanted me to let my bear have control of the situation, to claim her and not give her much of a choice in the matter.

  There was no going back for me, no not having her in my life.

  “Take her, claim her,” Maddix said, the brother who I could safely say was the most barbaric of the six of us. “She’s yours. Waiting is pointless when the end result is the same.”

  Easier said than done now that I was faced with my mate just feet from me. I didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want her thinking that I’d hurt her. I’d just as soon cut off my own hand than make her frightened of me.