Page 3 of Claiming His Virgin Mate

Maccon City.How the hell did I wind up here? For fuck’s sake.

Yes, it was a cute town for beach lovers,which he was not. Great for families,which he didn’t have. And there was a whole campy horror movie vibe going on this late at night. Broken neon signs, crumbling stucco, the scent of beachy mold, and neglect in the air. When he got a hold of M. Flint, he was going to give that guy a piece of his mind. Right before he tossed him out on his ass, with his Neta’s blessing he might add.

He frowned, looking around to gather as much evidence as he could with his enhanced night vision. Tigers were excellent hunters, after all, and their sight was legendary.

Alex took in the sand dunes across the small street that gave way to a pathway for beach goers staying at the hotel. Neglected, but fixable, he thought. What was more interesting were the two empty rundown lots next to the property. One directly to the left, which was bordered by the woods on one side. And another directly behind the hotel.

Hmm. If the lots were on the auction block, he’d see to it that ISP had first dibs. Once he was done with this property, the little hotel would be unrecognizable, and he wanted to have the option to expand. Yes, he’d definitely have to look into that Tomorrow.

The Tiger in him chuffed sleepily, and Alex stifled a yawn. He still couldn’t believe it, but he might as well get used to the idea. The Beta of the Island Stripe Tiger Pride was scheduled to be live in the heart of the Macconwood Wolf Pack’s territory for the next few months.

At least the Alpha wasn’t a dick. Alex had met Rafe Maccon a time or two, and the man was more than affable. He had a quiet power that exuded from his pores. Big and muscular like most Shifters, Rafe was descended fromthe MacContire.

The Wolf was a legend back in Ireland, and Alex had listened to the tales from members of the Greyback Pack over on Tyrone County, Ireland. ISP Inc had offices in the territory, and Alex was fond of the local Inn where older Wolves gathered to drink and tell tales of their heroes and myths.

How the legendary Wolf had come to allow his son to flee Ireland to wind up here was unknown to Alex. But he supposed that story was something he could ferret out of locals. One of the only aspects of his stay in Maccon City that had any appeal.

Manhattan was a crowded, busy, bustling place to live, and there, Dean Romero was King of Shifters and Alex his right-hand man. But here. Well, Alex wasn’t entirely sure what he was anymore. There were a shit-ton of Wolves, for sure. But how would a Tiger fair in a small town where he had to keep his inner self a secret?

Supposedly normals weren’t exactlyin the know, but Alex had his doubts. Supernaturals outnumbered normals three to one in the resort town that made the bulk of its money off the tourists who flocked there every summer.

Tourists, he snorted at the word. Like his family had been when he was a cub.Okay, fine. So maybe he didn’t hate it entirely. There was that summer he rode every rollercoaster and tilt-a-whirl ten times each without getting even slightly nauseous after his cousin dared him.

Still, he resented the assignment all the same. Surely, Dean had other people, less important people, he could have sent here?

Grrr.Waste of freaking time.

It had been years since Alex had spent any significant amount of time in the South Jersey town, but he still had acquaintances there. It was hard to ignore the busiest Shifter town in the Eastern coast.

The Thirsty Dogwas still the most hopping place in town, and he’d run into a crowd of friendly Wolves and Bears. Some he knew, some he didn’t.

Not that it mattered. After polishing off a few gold-label bottles ofBite, his favorite artisan whiskey crafted by local Werewolf Mason Lane, Alex tried his hand at darts. Then pool. Then some computer trivia thingy that he sucked royally at, but he had fun downing shots poured by the pretty and available waitstaff if the phone numbers he’d had stuffed into his pockets were any indication.

The women had been willing, but for some reason Alex had simply smiled and left. Alone.

And what the fuck was up with that?He growled again. The effects of the whiskey had long since worn off, but Alex felt out of sorts.

Anxious even.

Grrr.

Chapter Two

Okay, fine. His time at the bar had been spent delaying the inevitable. But could anyone blame him? This pink-stuccoed, blue-roofed, neon sign disaster of a hotel was fucking ridiculous.

And just how the hell was he supposed to find his room if there was no number for the manager located outside the closed office? What happened to guests arriving late?

Growling with renewed anger, Alex stalked towards the glass-walled room that had the wordofficeetched into the door.

Locked.Ugh. He really hated getting dirty. Sighing aloud, he replayed the conversation he’d had with the Neta in his head while he took off the jacket to his custom-tailored Tim Ford suit. Cuffing the sleeves of his silk shirt, he wondered if Dean would approve what he was about to do.

“Alex, you work for me. I do have that correct, right?” Dean Romero leaned back in his tall, black leather chair. The Neta pinned him with that unwavering stare of his.

He never raised his voice. The fucker didn’t have to. After all, Dean was the motherfucking Tiger King of all Manhattan. Also known as the Neta or the Alpha of the Island Stripe Pride based out of New York’s most thriving metropolis.

True, he’d mellowed some since taking a bride over the Christmas holidays. But now that the Nari, his mate, was expecting the couple’s first cub, Dean was anxious as ever to please the female. Violet was a wonderful Nari, beloved by the entire Pride.

She’d been blessed by the fates with the Puspa, the gift of her own animal half, and was now the fiercest Tigress in the city. Dean was crazy about her.

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