The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

The Pack: Rule Number 1 – No Mates

Chapter Three Hundred

ANASTACIA

The interior of the shop was all dark wood and corners of candlelight. Entire shelves devoted to different elements stood in every corner of the room. Candles and herbs, crystals and scrying bowls, books that looked too new to be of any use and jewelry that claimed to bring luck and love. These are all things that drench the space, clogging it and washing it of any true magic. None of it feels real. It is all simple… artificial. The man behind the high glass counter looks as if he would rather be anywhere else but here, and judging by the way he keeps looking at the clock on the wall, it appears it will be a very long day for him.

I am just about to give up what I originally thought was going to be a fantastic find when I feel it… an energy that thrums from beyond a beaded hallway. My eyes fix on the dark space beyond, my breath coming in quick gasps as Paul finally enters the store at my back. He had allowed me to enter on my own, claiming he didn’t want anything to do with any of it, but now here he is. As if he could sense my apprehension. As if he could feel my plight.

“What is it, beautiful?” he whispers, dipping down close to my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s…” I start toward the beaded doorway only to be stopped by the cashier.

“That room is private!” he says quickly, hardly looking up from his phone.

I feel it when Paul tenses at my back, so I’m only half surprised when he speaks to the shopkeeper like they are old friends. “Kyle?” Paul

says.

The shopkeeper flinches, finally looking up from his device and studying Paul for a cool minute before a half smile breaks out across his

handsome features.

“Paul?” the man, Kyle, says.

“Dude! Long time no see. How are you?”

Kyle shrugs, his brow furrowing, despair clouding his energy in such a way that speaks of tremendous grief. “Oh you know. I’ve been

better.” Kyle clears his throat. “What the fuck are you doing here? I never pegged you for a Wiccan.”

Paul chortles, laughing heartily until I jab him in the ribs. “Uh,” he coughs. “Not me. My girl. She’s into this shhhh–stuff.”

“Very cute save Pretty Paul,” I tease him, raising an eyebrow.

said it. Better watch

he eyes the scented candles up front, right next to Kyle. “Are you working here, dude?” His tone is mildly insulting and I half expect Kyle to get angry,

no. Not exactly. A – um… a friend of mine owns this spot and I promised I’d help her out by watching the place for her

his words. Not all of them, but there is some sort of untruth in what he claims. I don’t know why, or how I know this, but I do. This man, Kyle, is

How peculiar.

able, doing a double take when I see Paul gathering two armfuls of golden brown candles. What the devil? Is this the entire

briefly toward the beaded

1/3

Chapter Three Hundred

A complete

Huh.

nice meeting you.” Without another word I stomp toward the door angrily, only to be stopped by Paul when he whistles my way and drops about fifty pounds of useless wax on the counter. “Wait a minute, baby, I thought you needed candles. What’s

Kyle. “Nothing. They’re fine for fire hazards and romantic dinners. But they’re not what I’m looking for. The one’s that I need are back there in that I pinch my fingers into the air as I glare at Kyle “-private storeroom and

his phone

look. “Hey, hey, hey,

his selections for the first time. Honeysuckle, Milk and Honey, Honeybun, Sugared Honey, Vanilla Caramel and Honey… What in the actual fuck? “Paul…” I say,

black for a second and his muscles flex deliciously. With a lick of his lips, his eyes glint in the artificial firelight of the lantern on

catches when I see his cheeks redden

pants and ride him into the underworld right here and right now. “Because,” he states, his eyes

• Oh? Really?

one who’s blushing. Biting down on the inside of my cheek so I don’t erupt in a girlish giggle, I face Kyle who looks utterly amused by Paul’s admonition. “Why can’t I shop what’s in the other room?”

a helpless look. “Only… special customers

words, I push out my energy, asking him

over and he answers reluctantly, “My sister selects them herself. Based on something she

you?” I go on, still coaxing him, still fishing for

would be so fucking

goes ramrod straight and he scowls, looking from me to Kyle and then back again like he knows exactly

forgot. Paul can see my

Damn it.

he fixes his eyes on Kyle and the look he gives him is