CH 6 - Connor
1143 Words
CONNOR POV
My mate was something else.
A beauty and a beast wrapped in one small, furious package.
Five-foot-three, tops. I could have picked her up with one arm and still had the other free to fend off her verbal punches—because damn, that woman had claws.
I’d met warriors, witches, vamps, alphas, and even a pissed-off fae queen once, but none of them had ever sent me to hell and back with just a look and a few sarcastic words the way she did.
And Goddess, I loved it.
That little bartender-turned-bookseller—yeah, I’d clocked the faint scent of whisky clinging to her, the kind you get when you split your life between stacks of paper and late-night shifts—was fire and wit and red-cheeked indignation.
There was more beneath it, though, something that hit me deeper than any perfume: coffee and cinnamon with a hint of brown sugar, warm and addictive, the kind of scent that made my wolf lean forward and growl, Mine, and my c**k twitch in my pants.
She’d snapped at me, cheeks flushed pink, eyes burning like amber caught in sunlight.
And I’d smiled like a lunatic the whole damn time.
I wasn’t used to being talked down to. I was used to being obeyed. Or, at the very least, admired.
Not this time.
She didn’t give a damn who I was. She saw a tall red-haired i***t with too much confidence and a questionable sense of taste in souvenirs.
To her, I was just another tourist—a man with an unnatural obsession for Nessie keychains and a stupidly deep voice.
And she told me so. With gusto.
But what she didn’t know was that I wasn’t leaving.
Not yet.
If my mate thought she could dismiss me with a glare and a sarcastic quip, she had another thing coming.
I loved a challenge. Hell, I lived for it. I’d fought rogue alphas, trained new recruits, run my pack through storms and blood and moonlight—but none of it compared to the rush of standing in front of that woman while she glared up at me like she could melt my skin off with her words.
Yeah. I was done for.
And if she thought I was just going to disappear, she clearly didn’t know who she was dealing with.
I’d win her heart.
One way or another.
Sure, she might be human—no trace of wolf scent, no aura, nothing—but I’d seen the way her eyes lingered. The way her breath hitched for half a second when our gazes met. The bond didn’t hum for her like it did for me, but attraction? That was universal. And she felt it, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
That was step one.
Step two: figure out how to please my mother without royally screwing up whatever chance I still had with my mate.
Because right now, I had a very specific problem— A problem shaped like dozens of fluorescent Nessies and one very pissed-off Queen of Water Nymphs waiting at home for her son to destroy them all.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I stepped onto the cobbled street. The afternoon wind carried the smell of rain, coffee, and damp moss. The Loch shimmered in the distance like liquid glass, pretending to be peaceful.
My mother would probably sense my hesitation through whatever mother-son telepathic horror she’d invented this week. “Connor, darling, have you rid the world of the keychain atrocity yet?” she’d ask in that voice that could make hurricanes back off.
And I’d have to say:
“Working on it, Mom. Got distracted by destiny.”
Yeah. That would go well.
I groaned, raking my fingers through my hair again, trying to think. Unable to.
The mate bond had a way of getting my mind focused on only one thing.
A little firecracker in a bookstore.
Replaying in loop our interaction.
Truth be told, I didn’t want to upset her. Didn’t want to get such a riled-up response. But I did, and now?
Now I wanted to impress her. Only if I knew how!
Goddess, I could die to see what that mouth looked like smiling instead of scowling. I could already picture it—her lips curving, maybe even laughing a little. Probably soft. Probably sweeter than cinnamon sugar.
I caught myself grinning like an i***t at my reflection in a shop window. Perfect. The mighty Alpha, undone by a five-foot-three bookworm who hated keychains.
As I strolled down the narrow main street, a small café caught my eye.
Warm light, fogged-up windows, a hand-painted sign that read ‘The Thistle & Kettle.’ There were scones in the window and the smell of peppermint drifting out the door.
Perfect.
Tea.
She’d refused my invitation, but she hadn’t forbidden me from drinking tea with her.
So technically, I was just… preparing.
Besides, peppermint tea was my favorite.
And I had this ridiculous, unshakable conviction that my mate would love it too.
I pushed the door open, the bell above it chiming softly, and the warmth hit me instantly—steam, sugar, the hum of chatter. A waitress gave me a distracted smile and waved me to a seat by the window.
I ordered two takeaway cups of peppermint tea and two slices of lemon cake, because apparently falling in love at first sight also came with a sudden craving for sugar—and women liked cake, right?
Cain stirred in the back of my mind, restless, hungry.
“She’s ours,” he rumbled.
I smiled faintly. “Yeah. I noticed.”
“Then claim her.”
“Working on it.”
He huffed like an impatient child, then went quiet again, though I could feel the simmering heat of his focus on her.
I wrapped my hands around the steaming cups, breathing in the minty warmth, trying not to grin like a lunatic. “Okay, Connor,” I muttered to myself. “Don’t scare her off. Smile. Be normal. Sunshine mode.”
The window glass reflected my face—windswept hair, a grin I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
“She’s probably still glaring at you,” I muttered under my breath.
And damned if that thought didn’t make me smile harder.
My mate.
A woman who hated Nessie keychains, loathed redheads, and looked at me like I’d personally offended the gods.
And yet, all I could think about was how to make her smile.
Because I was already lost.
Completely, beautifully, hopelessly lost.
I looked down at the peppermint tea in my hands, steam curling between my fingers.
“Alright then,” I murmured, determination settling in my chest. “Let’s bring this to her.”
She’d smile—she had to.
If only I knew.
- Writer
