Page 1 of Her Shifter Pack

Chapter 1

OLIVER

Being one-half of a “perfect pair” wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

For one thing, everyone liked my larger twin better. The girls fell all over Markus for his big, dumb muscles. They didn’t care that I was the brains of the operation and always had been. Even in high school.

Women had been obsessed with my twin brother since we were young, and tonight was no exception.

“You heard from that girl you met the other night?” I called out to Markus, who was sitting across the table from me, making eyes at some woman nearby.

“Hey!” I shouted louder when he didn’t respond, trying to raise my voice above the loud bass of the music. “Markus!”

My brother turned to me, narrowing his eyes. “What?”

I groaned. “Nothing. You... just go.” I flicked my hand, indicating he should follow his instincts and go pick up whichever woman was giving him the right signals.

“But we’re hanging out,” Markus said, indicating between himself and me.

I drank the rest of my beer in a single swallow and got to my feet. “I’m heading home. You go do... her.”

Markus chuckled as he stood up. “Bro, I—”

“I know. I know.” I crossed the space between us and hugged my brother, older than me by a whole four minutes. “Go for it. I’m gonna head home.”

“No, Ollie. Stay. There are a ton of hot chicks here tonight, and you haven’t gone out with anyone since—”

“Forever. I know.” I grinned at my mountain of a brother, though I suspected the grin was a little off-kilter given my mood. “I can’t, Markus. I’m done.” I held up my hands, feeling the all too familiar tug at my heart. I was finished screwing around.

It had been fun for a while. But we’d turned thirty a few months ago, and I was done with this life. I was ready to settle down. I wanted a mate and a family.

Markus wasn’t done, and that was fine. Except... it wasn’t. Not when he was the other half of our perfect pair. His actions were affecting me in a way normal men wouldn’t understand. As a pair, we were bound to each other.

Past. Present. And more importantly, future.

I took a step toward the door, the desire to take another jab at a very touchy subject passing over me. “Can you hurry up and get this out of your system so we can find our mate?”

Markus growled at me. “I don’t believe in that perfect pair shit. You know that.”

I laughed at his petulant expression, though the sound was laced with bitterness. “You’re one of a perfect pair, Mark. It doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. Fate believes in it for you, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

I turned away before the heat of my brother’s glare lit my hair on fire.

I left the bar, passing by the bouncers letting people in two at a time. It was midnight, and the night was only just starting. I was tired of it. The scene, the fake smiles, the surface-only care; all of it.

Being a perfect pair meant far more than people knew. Markus and I were like a perfect man, split into two. We were both good-looking if the women we’d dated were to be believed. But while I got the brains, Markus got the brawn. He was a clown, and I could be too serious. Together, we balanced each other out.

Something neither of us had counted on, though, was that perfect pairs were expected to share a mate. According to shifter lore, there was one Fated mate out there for each perfect pair. One woman created just for us. The only problem with that concept, was that my brother didn’t want a mate. Or a wife. Or a family.

Fuckwit.

I patted the pockets of my jeans, and groaned. “Damn it.” Markus had the car keys.

My gaze drifted across the road, where more bars and restaurants were filling with people, clashing styles of music pumping out of every speaker to create a cacophony of noise.

My wolf shifter senses enhanced the world around me. The intense sound of the cars, the people, and the music, were even more garish in my shifter ears than they would have been for a human. The multi-layered scents were heightened, too. Pungent, horrible aftershave and too strong perfume. Whiskey and stale beer. Fried, greasy food layered beneath sweat and body odor.

Not the sort of environment my shifter craved. He desired fresh grass, tall trees and the space to roam free.

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