Wolf Mated

by Tamsin Baker

  And just like that, I wanted to cry again. My chin wobbled and my eyes welled up.

  That’s exactly what my dad would have said.

  I slid off his lap and grabbed for the tissue box on my dad’s desk, before I could lose control again.

  I turned away so he didn’t have to watch me. I began blowing my dripping and clogged nose, and mopping up my face. Totally disgusting and undignified, but hey, couldn’t get much lower than this moment.

  Fridge would have officially seen me at my worst, then there was only one way to go: up.

  By the time I’d dried my face enough to turn around and speak, Fridge had pulled a bottle of water from a bar-fridge in the corner of the room and was offering it to me.

  I inhaled sharply, my fragile emotions struggling with the show of thoughtfulness.

  Get it together.

  “Thanks.” I tipped the already opened bottle back and swallowed, my scratchy, dry throat grateful for the gift.

  Time to change the subject and get control of myself.

  I indicated to the books still stacked on the desk. “What are they? Dad’s book-keeping notes, or something else?”

  He wouldn’t have kept a journal. Surely.

  Fridge pushed the books across the desk towards me. “I don’t know. You check it out.” He indicated to the jewelry box. “Is that for you?”

  I shrugged. “No idea. I haven’t opened it yet.”

  And I was afraid to.

  “Ah, okay.” He pushed the box at me, and I was forced to pick it up. I didn’t want to look like a coward in front of Fridge after what I’d just put him through.

  I was lucky the poor guy was still in the room with me.

  I steeled myself for what might be beneath the black velvet. An engagement ring? And expensive watch? Something that would clearly tell me that my father had been in love with someone, and I didn’t know about it?

  I opened it.

  Worry turned to love as I stared at my mother’s small jewelry collection. “It’s my mother’s things. She didn’t have much...”

  I pulled out the plain gold wedding ring and small engagement ring. Around the central rings was a thin gold chain and her watch. All together. All kept safe.

  “Why would it be here?” I said aloud. “He could have kept it at home.”

  We had a safe there too.

  Fridge shrugged. “No idea. They’re nice pieces though.”

  I slid the rings onto my right ring finger and admired them.

  My dad didn’t have a lot of money when my parents had gotten married, and when he started to earn a good living, mom had refused to upgrade her rings.

  She’d loved the feeling behind the original ones. The love and devotion.

  “Thanks.” I closed the lid and slid the box onto the desk. I wasn’t sure why he’d kept such pieces in his work safe. At the moment, it didn’t seem important, but I made a mental note to remember. “Now, to the books.”

  I opened the first one, dated back to when he first began the workshop. There were dates, and names and prices.

  Almost like a running tally of conquests.

  “Looks like an account of every bounty the workshop’s ever taken.” Fridge pointed to a name halfway down the first page. “Wow... that guy was a legend.”

  I looked at where he pointed and shrugged. I didn’t recognize any of them.

  I glanced at the lists and flicked through the rest of the book. It spanned about a decade, or so.

  “Here.” I passed the journal over to Fridge and picked up the next book. After a few pages, I shrugged. “This is the same.”

  Losing hope, I opened the third one. There were a few blank pages at the back, but the books were all equally plain and boring.

  Fridge looked at me expectantly.

  “It’s the same,” I said with a sigh, handing over the third book. “This isn’t as exciting as I expected it to be. Why would Dad keep a list of all the guys the workshop has ever caught? Isn’t that just doubling up? He’d have contracts, computer files...”

  Fridge shrugged. “He was an old-fashioned guy in a lot of ways. There may be something we’ve missed hidden in the pages. I’ll take a look... if you like?”

  He expected me to answer, and I waited for a minute. Assessing him. If he wasn’t my mate, would I trust him so much?

  He was super tough looking. And I didn’t know him from a bar of soap up until last night.

  So no, I probably wouldn’t be handing all my trust over to a man I didn’t know, if it was any other day.

  But he was my fated mate, and I knew that meant he had to be a guy that was loyal, kind, clever, and probably stubborn as hell.

  Not to mention the fact that by all accounts, my dad had trusted him.

  “Of course, I trust you,” I said. “Please, keep them, look through every page. Tell me if you find anything odd.”

  He nodded and scooped the three books up off the desk. “You wanna wear your mom’s other jewelry, or put it back in the safe?”

  I glanced at the box, then picked it up. “Back in the safe I think, though I’ll keep her rings on. I always kinda wondered what had happened to them.... I thought she may have been buried with them.”

  “Buried?” Fridge repeated as I took the box over to the wall, opened the safe, and slid it safely back inside next to the stacks of money.

  God, that’s a lot of cash.

  “Yeah, why?”

  When I turned back around, Fridge was still looking confused. “Was she human? I’d always pictured her as being at least part paranormal, but the only para’s that are buried are the....” He trailed off and I suddenly realized my blunder.

  All shifters, even half breeds, or less, were cremated.

  Even the vamps burst into flames when they were staked.

  “Yeah, she was human,” I hurried on with, dropping my gaze to avoid him working out that I was a liar.

  The only other breed of people who were buried were the witches. And as far as everyone was concerned, they were extinct.

  The vampires had a strong obsession with witch blood and had killed anyone with a drop of witch in them decades ago.

  “So, what do you think I should do next?” I asked him since this was his domain.

  He laughed. “You were the one that wanted the meeting.”

  I thought back and then chuckled too. “Oh, well, that was mostly to find out how this place ran. Does Dad still have a mortgage?”

  What sort of finances will we be up for if I keep this place going?

  Fridge shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I didn’t talk money much with your old man. He paid me, I worked hard. End of story, really.”

  I couldn’t help the temptation to tease him. “So, you never asked for a raise?”

  I had to assume that money came up occasionally.

  He held my gaze. “Never had to. Your dad upped our pay every Christmas without fail.”

  “Hmm, that was generous. And unusual.” I didn’t know any other employers that did that. Mine certainly didn’t.

  Fridge chuckled. “It’s sink or swim here. If you work hard, be consistent, loyal, your dad kept us on. If not... you’re let go.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  Fridge really laughed this time. “That was your old man. Now... can I give you just a little bit of advice?”

  “Of course.” Whether or not I took it was a different story.

  “Wash your face. Get rid of the tears, then walk out with me and tell all the guys things are going to be okay.” He shrugged. “At least for the next month.”

  “Okay. And Dad had his own bathroom?”

  Fridge nodded. “Yeah, how’d you know? Through that door.”

  He pointed behind me.

  We always have our own bathrooms.

  “Thanks. I won’t be long.”

  I left my dragon shifter in the office while I washed the redness, pain, and tears off my face.

  It was time to show them what Daddy’s girl wa
s made of.

  Chapter 8.

  I stood at the top of the stairs, near my father’s office space. I stared down at the men standing around, waiting for me to speak.

  They were lounging against walls, resting on the stairs or just standing with their arms crossed over their chest.

  “Thank you all for coming in today. I can imagine it was difficult to stay after you learned what happened last night.” I swallowed hard, trying to remain calm.

  These men needed to see a united front from me and the men who stood beside me.

  Fridge lingered nearby and Rogan had returned from his place, freshly showered and dressed. He stood next to me, at the top of the staircase.

  Most of the staff members Dad had on the books were here today. And it was more than I’d expected. All males. All shifters. All rough, rugged guys.

  “I wanted to reassure you that at least for the next month, the workshop will run as it has in the past. All current bounties will be paid, full time staff will get their wages, and I will be speaking to the current book-keepers to see how I can keep my father’s legacy running, for as long as possible.”

  There was a general murmur, though I wasn’t sure if it was good or not.

  Rogan cleared his throat and I glanced his way.

  Did he want to say anything? Or was he...

  “Oh, I’ve asked Rogan and Fridge to take over the daily running of the workshop until I get on my feet... or I can find someone to take over permanently. If you have any questions or concerns, you are welcome to come directly to me of course, but otherwise, you can direct everything through them. Whatever works.”

  A happier feeling pulsed through the place now.

  I would have liked to say something inspirational, but I was a twenty-five-year-old girl, in a room full of twenty to fifty-year-old men.

  I wasn’t inspiring anyone.

  Not as I was today. Not who I would be tomorrow.

  I knew how loyalty and love was won. And it was through years and years of hard-won battles. Showing up every day to do your job better than others had done before you.

  I cleared my throat, needing to say at least one more thing. “I know I don’t know any of you well, but please know that I am my father’s daughter through and through. I’ll make sure you guys are looked after, and if I can work out a way to keep his business going... I will. He loved working here, he loved everything about his job, and I won’t let it go down the gurgler. I promise.”

  This time there was a few small smiles as the men shuffled their feet and leaned on the walls.

  “Thanks.” I waved and walked back to the office, shivering with adrenaline and excessive nerves.

  I made it back into the office before I squealed.

  Rogan closed the door and laughed at me. “You did well. They’re a tough crowd.”

  “I know. I know.” I began to pace, my arms and legs jittery and anxious.

  I needed to exercise. Run. Or something.

  There’s a clothing place next door. Go grab some tights and get to work.

  “You guys got some gym equipment I can use?”

  Fridge crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door. “We don’t do treadmills and shit like that.”

  I stopped and stared at him, raising a single eyebrow. “Listen, Fridge. I was throwing knives before I could walk. So, if you’ve got some throwing matts, or a boxing ring, I’ll train with you. If you think you’re up to it?”

  His expression was priceless. His mouth dropped open and his eyes were so wide he looked like some sort of cartoon character.

  “You wanna... huh, what?” he stammered.

  I turned to Rogan who was grinning like a mad man. “I need to change into some training gear and there’s a place next door I can buy some. Can you clear a space downstairs for us, and I’ll be back in ten?”

  Rogan nodded. “Definitely.”

  I flicked my hand at Fridge and he moved out of the way.

  I opened the door to the office, jogged down the stairs, and out the front door.

  This was going to be fun.

  Even though I was one hundred per cent sure I couldn’t win a fight against a dragon.

  I hadn’t trained properly in months, not in hand to hand combat. I’d been too busy with work. But what did they say? It was like riding a bike...

  I strolled into the shop next door, a women’s clothing shop. Not my sort of stuff, too feminine and cheap.... But they looked like they had what I needed.

  “Hello, can I help you?” a blonde woman asked as she walked forward and ran her eye over me with a skeptical glance.

  I ignored the look and flashed her a smile. “Yes. Hi. I’m Sadie Williams, my dad owns the business next door and I need some training clothes, if you have any.”

  In ten minutes, I had tanks, leggings, and a great work out bra in my arms.

  The woman rang it all up, I paid with my card, though an image of the cash in my dad’s vault flashed into my mind. Was that how he paid his employees? Or was that simply for a rainy day?

  “Thanks heaps.”

  I left her shop after promising I would visit again, went straight back to dad’s office, and changed in my own private bathroom. My heart pumped hard against my ribs and I couldn’t believe the amount of excitement thrumming through my system.

  It had been too long since I’d had a good fight.

  Not to mention the fact that my shifter side couldn’t wait to wrap my legs around one of my mates.

  Even if it was just to take him down.

  I giggled as I came out of the office and Rogan was waiting for me, leaning against a wall.

  I smiled at him. “Hey. Is it all set up?”

  “Yeah... but, Sadie, you realise Fridge is a dragon shifter, right?”

  I grinned at him. As if that was something I could forget. “Yeah, I know.”

  Rogan took a step closer, concern written all over his beautiful face. “If he lets you win or goes super easy on you... you’ll be fine. But try not to aggravate him, okay? He’s strong and won’t know how to pull back if his shifter is triggered.”

  Excitement rippled along my veins. If his shifter was triggered then I had a chance of hitting the high I got when I trained properly with my dad.

  God, I missed this feeling.

  “I’m counting on it,” I said, heading for the door. “Come on, let’s go. Show me where he is.”

  I raced out the office door before Rogan could try and talk me out of training with Fridge.

  I wasn’t afraid of a little pain, or a dragon with a temper. I’d fought my dad. And he hadn’t gone easy on me.

  He’d said, ‘If you’re in a real fight, they won’t take it easy on you, just because you’re a girl. So I’m not going to. You need to know how to get out of tough situations.’

  And that training had served me well, if for nothing more than piece of mind when walking the streets alone.

  I’d never been attacked, or even mugged, and I truly believed that was because something about me exuded a confidence that said, ‘I dare you.’

  Unlike every other woman I knew, who’d had their purses snatched, their boyfriends beaten up. I’d never even been close to it.

  As I jogged down the stairs in socks, tight black leggings, and a hot purple tank, I was buzzing.

  “Which way?” I asked Rogan as he came down behind me looking drastically underwhelmed.

  He pointed to my right. “That way, first door. Says ‘the gym.’”

  I grinned and marched off in that direction.

  The smell of sweat and testosterone was high in the air, and I could sense my dragon was nearby.

  I walked into the room and stopped, dead. There were twenty guys standing around, waiting for the show.

  Ah... what?

  Rogan stepped up beside me and shrugged. “You seriously thought no-one wanted to see this?”

  I shivered.

  Why I wasn’t sure. I had audiences in court all the time, though
the pressure to perform here seemed higher than any judge I’d ever faced.

  The men here would critique me much harsher, and more personally than any other lawyer too. They’d compare me to my father, an impossible task.

  Although I’d never hold a candle to my dad, this was my chance to prove I was tough, capable—not just a little girl trying out her daddy’s shoes and finding them impossible to fulfil.

  “Fridge, what are we doing?” I called out to the man mountain across the room.

  He’d taken his shoes off and changed out of his shirt and slacks and into some black sweats and a tank that barely covered his nipples.

  God, the man was hot. Enough to make my mouth water and my fingers itch to caress every inch of him.

  Damn the men standing around. I didn’t want to have to keep my hands to myself, but it looked like I’d have to now. Couldn’t have them thinking I was some stupid bitch in heat, or worse, think badly of Fridge for hooking up with the boss’s daughter. It wouldn’t reflect well on either of us.

  I tried to ignore the sexual tension sizzling through the air and walked forward, to where Fridge held up boxing gloves.

  “Wanna spar in the ring?” Fridge asked.

  I looked at him, sizing up his height and weight and realized I’d lose a boxing match pretty fast.

  “With someone your size? Not really?”

  When he looked relieved, I grinned.

  “I’d prefer a straight-out sparring match,” I said. “We can wear gloves if you’d prefer. But street rules. Not ring rules.”

  His eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “You’re serious?”

  I chuckled. “I’m a bit rusty, so give me a minute to ease into it, but I’ll be fine.”

  I grabbed the gloves he held out to me and dropped them on the ground. “Anything I need to know?”

  A guy behind me called out, “Yeah, you’re about to get your ass handed to you.”

  “Nah... go easy on her, Fridge,” another guy said.

  I pulled my sloppy pony tail out of its elastic, rearranged the strands, and tied it as high as possible on my head, out of my eyes.

  “Yeah, Fridge.” I grinned. “Go easy on me.” I lowered my voice as I picked up the gloves and pulled them on. “After all... you still don’t know what my full blood lines are.”