Vince
Tossing the cloak in the trash, I’m clad in dark washed jeans and a gray hoodie as I stalk around the back of the stadium. It’s mostly empty now so I can move around without being seen more easily. At the entrance to the stadium, I catch my mate’s sweet scent. My chest rises and falls with a slow beat, inhaling the soft fragrance. A heat spreads along my skin and my hands flex … fuck, my mouth waters even more.
I walk slowly to the gate, my boots crunching over small rocks on the pavement, and inhale deeply, taking in the faint aroma of jasmine. Relief floods through me. The gnawing pit in my stomach subsides and my skin tingles with excitement. A wolfish grin graces my lips; the hunt is on. Unfortunately, the relief is fleeting as I follow the floral breeze to the parking lot. My heartbeat picks up once again. The thought of her getting into her car and leaving me forever is a real possibility. With my inner wolf howling in protest, my pace quickens. Staying quiet and crouched in the shadows of the building, I need to stay inconspicuous. There aren’t many people lingering, but I don’t want to draw any attention.
I’m already too tall, my eyes not quite right. I don’t fit in but I don’t stand out too much either. Still, I’m careful to stick to the shadows and remain quiet.
The scent trail takes me to a few parked cars, but then it continues past the lot and toward campus. Her sweet smell cuts off to the right down a sidewalk between two dorms. My head tilts as I eye the large brick buildings. Maybe she’s a student. My lips kick up into an asymmetric grin. Stalking past campus and toward Main Street, I’m eager to learn more about my mate. There are a few shops just now closing down, but there’s a bar and a nightclub at the end of the street. I follow my tantalizing mate and that’s when I go on high alert. Scenting the air, I fight the urge to growl.
Wolves are here. And they sure as fuck aren’t from my pack. Adrenaline floods my veins knowing the trail to my mate and the trail to the unknown werewolves lead in the same direction. Both panic and anger consume me.
“Devin, we have problems.” Not waiting for a response, I continue along the path. My focus narrows; my pulse accelerates. They better not fucking touch her. I’ll kill them. They will die slow deaths if they dare to approach her. Woods to my left offer a modicum of cover, allowing me to sprint. No more of this plodding human pace. I’m barely able to keep my composure until I’m safely hidden in the shadows of the forest.
I try calling for the pack again, but it’s too late. They’ve traveled too far and can’t hear me. Fuck! Rushing past the trees, branches snap loudly under my boots. I don’t care about stealth, only speed. I need to get to her as fast as I can. If they’re after my mate, I’ll rip their throats out. I refuse to fail my mate. To hell with that shit about waiting until she’s offered. I’m taking her with me and Devin will just have to deal with it. It only takes minutes to reach the end of her scent but with each second that passes, the growl deep in my chest gets louder. The trail cuts past the bar and through a deserted alley.
* * *
Veronica
* * *
Time passes far too quickly as the pack trails me, and the sun sinks into the night’s embrace. I almost lost sight of my little wolf stalker. The other dogs call him Vince. His name sends a chill down my spine in the most unexpected ways. The shiver of delight, of intrigue even, perks up my lips into a pleasant smile.
I love the way his silver eyes follow me, just like the lost puppy he is. My smile widens, threatening to expose my sharp fangs if I don’t contain myself. How could I resist this, though? How could I resist him? Especially given that I’ve been so damn bored scouting out this Podunk town for the coven. Hearing him pant with lust dripping from his desperate whimper for me to be his has my cold, dead heart beating with scalding hot blood.
The other werewolves shadowing him have put a damper on my intrigue. Just the thought of them, of a pack, forces the pull I feel toward Vince to quiet itself. I wonder if he knows they’ve been tracking him all night. Probably not, considering that he hasn’t stopped following my every step in these gray suede pumps. The dogs may have a better sense of smell than us vamps, but their hearing is shit.