Page 1 of Stalking His Mate

1

DANTE

“Jesus Christ, Amy. You are the most inconsiderate woman…”

The hateful tone has my attention snapping to the front of the diner where a pudgy man with thinning blond hair is pointing angrily at a woman. My eyes narrow followed by a hot flare of rage when I notice the little girl, who can’t be more than ten years old, plastered to the woman’s back. They both have red hair, the ginger kind that is more orange than auburn. The way the woman—Amy—put herself between the girl and the enraged man, ensuring the brunt of his anger is focused on her, has my fists clenching and my chest growing tight.

“What kind of mother drags their daughter to work with the hope that someone can come to pick her up?” the man seethes.

I watch as a muscle in the side of her jaw tenses and jumps from clenching her teeth. Her cheeks and neck flush bright red—with anger, not fear—causing the freckles dotting her face to stand out.

“Are you listening to me?” the asshole snaps when she remains quiet. It’s then I notice that the shape and color of his eyes matches the little girls.

Damn, is this sorry excuse for a male her father?

“Of course, Chad,” Amy’s voice is so soft that if it wasn’t for my enhanced shifter hearing I probably wouldn’t have caught her words. “I appreciate you coming out of your way to get her.”

Chad. Of course, this losers name is Chad.

“Come on, Molly,” Chad snaps his fingers—Snaps! Like he’s calling a fucking dog!—and it takes everything in me not to jump to my feet and give him a lesson in how you treat people.

“Bye Mama. I love you,” the girl, Molly, says with a sigh that tells me this interaction is all too normal for her.

“We’re going to talk about this,” Chad warns with some more finger pointing. I don’t miss the way his pale blue eyes scan the diner or the oily smile that slides across his mouth when he realizes that they are the center of attention. “We’re supposed to be co-parenting, I can’t always be the one to pick up your slack.”

With that, he turns and pushes his way through the doorway, almost taking out an older couple coming in behind him without so much as an apology.

The moment he disappears with the little girl following meekly behind, Amy squeezes her eyes shut and sucks in a sharp breath, before she turns to disappear into the back.

My elbows drop to the table, and I thrust my fingers into my hair, pulling out the elastic holding it back in the small bun so it can fall around my shoulders. The strands are a mix of everything from gold to raven, thanks to my mixed ancestry and years spent in the sun. My body is equally athletic from living an active life as both a human and cat shifter.

I happened to be riding past on my bike and turned into this diner with a sudden craving for an old-fashioned bacon burger. Now, I’m wondering if it was something else besides my stomach that drew me in here.

My heart is beating like a hummingbird’s and my breath is coming fast and shallow after witnessing the altercation. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve seen worse cases of domestic occurrences than this and I’ve never felt more than second hand embarrassment. This… something about this is different. This has me feeling way past angry. What I’m feeling towards that female is almost as if she’s?—

My head snaps up and my entire body flushes white hot.

Fuck me. That female is my mate.

I’m out of my booth before I consider what the hell I’m doing. The restrooms line the same hall that she disappeared down, and there is a set of swinging doors at the far end. I am just about to push through them when a pair of hushed voices stop me in my tracks.

“How can you let him take Molly? I’d lose my mind,” a woman says. I recognize her voice as the waitress who seated me just before the asshole appeared to cause the scene.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Amy—my female, my mate—lets out a relieved laugh. “He never actually takes her during his weekends. In fact, he’s heading across town right now to drop her off with his parents, and she loves going there.”

Some of the tightness in my chest loosens at hearing this.

“Wait. All that bullshit about how he’s bailing you out, and it’s his weekend for visitation?” The other woman lets out a disgusted snort.

“Chad likes to conveniently leave out any parts of our parenting plan that he dislikes. Like the part that states I’m only supposed to work on days he has Molly or while she’s in school so that, in the judges own words—'Molly has a reliable and stable parent caretaker.’ Don’t even get me started on the alimony he’s supposed to pay me.”

“How come his parents let their son treat you like this?” the other waitress grumbles.

I decide that I like this woman.

“He’s their son,” Amy says, like that should matter. “They may not agree with how he acts, but blood is blood. Honestly, as long as they act as a buffer for Molly, I’m grateful. I can handle Chad.”

Their footsteps coming toward me has me hurrying back to my booth before I’m caught eavesdropping. I’ve barely settled myself in my seat and picked up the laminated menu when Amy comes around the corner. She’s got a brown apron wrapped around her hips over a matching polyester dress and her ginger hair is pulled up into a high ponytail.

---