Mates: Prequel (Claws Clause 0)

He had to get to her.

Now.

Maddox took another breath, deeper than the one that had his wolf spiraling out of control. It had to be true, and it would definitely explain why he snapped out of his shift the way that he had. His wolf would’ve picked up on the scent on the breeze first, then stepped back to force the man to come forward to experience it himself.

And there it was. Soft, subtle, a whisper on the wind but already so ingrained deep inside of him that Maddox knew he’d run to the edge of the earth to hunt that scent down.

The scent, and the woman it undoubtedly belonged to.

His woman. His one true mate.

Somewhere, not too far from where he sat playing with his cock in the dirt, the only woman meant for him was waiting for him to find her.

So that’s what he was going to do.

* * *

With that tantalizing scent deep in his lungs, Maddox’s wolf wanted to break out again, roll around in it, wrap itself up in it.

But the man was firmly in charge now that the shock was quickly passing. And while he struggled with the second head that was suddenly rearing up, making itself very, very known, he still had a brain in the one on top of his shoulders.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

It wasn’t just the power of her scent that told him who this mystery woman was to him, either. With his cock ready and willing for the first time ever, he had the biggest clue. Because no matter how the media, the rumors, the internet portrayed predator shifters as feral men who couldn’t keep their beasts leashed, there was absolutely no truth to the whispers that a male shifter mated any woman his beast took a liking to.

Not only was that prejudiced against shifters, who believed a mate was a sacred thing, a partner who deserved to be desired, loved, and protected, but it was physically impossible.

To a shifter, a mate was as much about the heart as it was about reproduction for the simple fact that only bonded mates could produce pups, and the body knew it.

Female shifters had it a little bit easier. They could mate as much as they wanted to, with whoever they wanted; their bodies didn’t begin to ovulate until they were bonded so there was no chance of having a pup with any other male. Male shifters, though? They were as limp as a wet noodle until they first scented their mate. After that, they were shooting blanks until their mate was formally claimed, bit and seed and all.

He took another deep breath, altering his trajectory just enough when the wind shifted again. Nothing could stop him or stand in his way.

Maddox’s mate was close enough for her scent to carry to him on the wind. No matter what, he had to find her.

And not just because his cock was all but begging him to, either.

Discovering your fated mate without any magical assistance was already near impossible; only a few witches had that ability, and getting one to use it without first going bankrupt was even more rare. Chancing upon his woman like this? To Maddox, it put the fate in fated mate.

First, though, he had needed clothes. Tracking his mate while wearing skin or fur probably wouldn’t be the best idea. He was a shifter, but hell if he wasn’t civil

ized.

Before he let his wolf out to run, he made sure to tuck his shirt, his jeans, his boots neatly in the cab of his truck. And even if he hadn’t? He always had a back-up outfit stowed in a duffel bag in the back.

It might have been years since he lost control of his shift like that, but the first time you got caught somewhere without a spare change of clothes was the last time you got caught somewhere without a spare change of clothes.

With the all familiar snap, Maddox had given his form over to his wolf. For two reasons: because it would look really weird to run through the Woodbridge woods naked with a monster hard-on he could barely resist petting, plus his wolf would be way faster when it came to dashing over the park’s terrain.

He made it back to his truck in no time. Changing shapes within a split second, his shifter senses assuring him that no one else was around, he retrieved the duffel from his truck and hurriedly shimmied on the fresh clothes.

When meeting a mate for the first time, he figured, he might as well make the best impression as he could.

Unfortunately for Maddox, that plan lasted only as long as it took him to track down the source of that amazing scent.

He wasn’t thinking. Instincts were riding him hard, the man knowing that there was a woman out there waiting for him, the wolf keening for its mate. He was straining against the leash that kept a shifter from turning completely feral, and his brain had gone on vacation with that first glorious pulse of pleasure.

It was his only excuse. Because what he did when he could sense the owner of that scent on the other side of the bushes in his path was just dumb.