Page 8 of The Alpha's Honor

“Don’t worry.”

“Good. I’m heading down to make sure everyone showed up for their shifts.”

“I’ll be down later.”

“I’ll buy you a beer. It’s your last week of freedom, after all.”

“Stop saying that,” Duke said, growling a warning.

Titus laughed as he walked out of the office.

Leaning back in the leather desk chair, he stared at the ceiling. His lion was right there in his mind, nudging him with Titus’s promises. He could break the mating contract,ifhe found his heart-match. But what in the hell were the odds of that happening in a week? In twenty-five years, he hadn’t found her yet, and after next Saturday, it wouldn’t matter if he had, anyway. Once he mated Madison, once she bore his mark and he bore hers, they’d be bound together in a mating that was only severable by death. Unlike the contract, which could be broken, a mating was for life, period.

Which was exactly what he wanted. Mating. Alphaship. Family.

Then he’d have everything.

As if on cue, his lion suddenly stretched under his skin, pushing and nudging him to go down to the bar. He didn’t normally spend the evenings on the floor, aside from making appearances to say hello to regulars and make sure things were running smoothly. Titus worked the floor most nights, handling the staff schedules and stock, and Duke handled the business end of things.

He pushed at his lion, but the beast refused to settle. He’d been listening to his aggravated cat’s grumblings ever since he’d decided to see Abbie. He wished he’d thought to ask his dad if his lion had given him that much grief when he’d contracted for a mate.

Fine!

Pushing away from the desk, he stalked to the door and yanked it open, the handle cracking against the wall with a satisfying thud. He walked down the wide hallway, through the security door, and out onto the balcony. The second floor was accessible by an elevator and stairwell, the access hidden in one of the stockrooms behind security doors. No one had ever tried to get up to the second floor without permission, but it was a space that was definitely invitation-only.

Staring down into the crowd, he let his gaze roam over the dancers in the center of the open space who moved to the music of the house band. Lasers and strobes painted their writhing bodies.

Then he saw her.

A mass of long, auburn hair cascaded past her shoulders. Curves for days, barely contained by the dress that hugged each inch of her body like it wouldn’t ever let go. She was with another female, who judging by the resemblance was most likely family. She didn’t appear to be with a male, but he wouldn’t have minded anyway, because he was very sure of one thing as he watched her make her way to the bar – she was his heart-match.

He rushed down the stairs, bursting into the stock room, his only thoughts about getting to the female and claiming her. When he reached the open area, the dancing crowd separating him from the long bar, he found her with her friend, ordering drinks. His lion chuffed, anxious for him to close the distance to her.

Mate her. Claim her.

Mine!

His fingers tingled from the claws that threatened to break free, and his gums ached from the fangs. He knew his eyes were flashing gold. He’d never been so unable to keep the beast at bay, but he was barely holding on.

She shivered, and turned slowly. She scanned the crowd and then her gaze met his and everything inside him roared in happiness. He moved through the crowd, the dancers parting for him as if they were aware that he was on a mission and would not be stopped. He wasn’t sure hecouldstop. The pull to reach her was overwhelming.

He stopped with only inches between them. She was a full foot shorter than him, her brown eyes wide as she looked up at him, her brows high with curiosity. Her scent hit him full force, sweet like honey, and he knew in that moment that she was human, but he didn’t care.

She was his, and this time he was certain that what he’d been born for wasn’t to lead the pride, but to make this female happy for the rest of their lives.

“I’m Duke Fairborn,” he said, taking one of her hands and lifting it to his lips.

A zing of electricity snapped through him at the simple touch, and he knew she felt it too when she gasped.

“Memory Hendrix, but my friends call me Ree.”

He looked over her head and found Titus staring at him in slack-jawed surprise. “Clear a booth for us.”

Titus snapped into motion at the request and hustled from behind the bar, disappearing to the booths to make room for him and his mate.

“Join me?” he asked.

“I… I’m human?”

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