Page 1 of The Fated Mate Bandit

1

SILVER

The knock comes in the middle of the night. I blink my eyes, unsure if the sound was real or a fragment of dreams. Then it comes again.

Thump,thump,thump.

I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s two o’clock in the morning. No one visits at this hour unless they’re in trouble. Fear surges through me. I grab for my phone, hoping I didn’t miss a text from Quin. He shacked up with an ex-con who just got out on murder charges. But there are no messages on my phone.

Maybe he lost his phone, or Slade broke it in a murderous rage. I jump out of bed, not bothering to put on a shirt even though I’m only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. Quin won’t care that I’m mostly naked. Then I remember he might have Chime with him, and I grab a pair of shorts, awkwardly pulling them on as I rush toward the door of my bedroom. It takes far too long to get from my room to the front door. I bought this house a year ago, and I still feel guilty about how large it is.

When I open the door, Quin isn’t the one standing on my porch. It’s Lucas, an omega I never thought I’d see again. He’s older now, with circles under his haunting brown eyes and a jawline made sharper from all the weight he’s lost. But he still has the same honey-brown hair and full lips. I remember how soft those lips were back when he was mine to kiss. That seems like a lifetime ago.

His hand rests on his belly, which juts out like a bowling ball from his body. I shouldn’t be surprised he’s pregnant. We’re twenty-three, and he’s been with his fated mate for five years. But it still makes my heart ache to see him knocked up with another alpha’s baby.

I always thought he’d have children with me.

He turns his head ever-so-slightly, and that’s when the light falls on his right cheek. Its skin is pink and swollen. All at once, I notice the obvious things I missed between the shock of seeing him on my porch in the middle of the night: the torn collar of his shirt, his bare feet, and the way his hands are trembling.

“I’m sorry to bother you this late at night,” he says. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

I hold my arms out to him. I shouldn’t, of course. Gray wolf shifter omegas are repulsed by the scent of other alphas once they’ve found their fated mate. But the gesture is instinctual. I want to protect him from whoever hurt him. I’ve always wanted to protect Lucas.

He takes one halting step forward, then rushes into my arms, burrowing his nose into the crook of my neck, the way he used to after escaping one of his alpha dad’s drunken rages. I wait for him to jerk away, put off by my scent, but he inhales deeply and nuzzles in closer, wrapping his arms around my waist.

It feels good to hold him in my arms, even after all these years.

“Who did this to you?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, he just clings to me tighter. But if it wasn’t his mate, Daryl, then he wouldn’t be on my porch, would he? He’d be in his mate’s arms instead.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” I say softly. I guide him further in, so I can close the door. I notice there isn’t a car parked in my driveway. Lucas doesn’t have a bag or a suitcase. He’s here all alone with just the clothes on his back.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

He nods against my chest. He’s holding on to me so tight, his baby bump presses against me. It makes the protectiveness I’ve always felt for him even worse.

“What are you in the mood for? I have eggs, some of Quin’s bread, bananas.”

When we were younger, he never said no to food. He could down my omega mom’s baking faster than Link, and that’s saying something. But instead of perking up at the idea of eating, Lucas sobs.

I thread my fingers through his hair and pull him closer. “You can stay with me for as long as you need,” I whisper in his ear. “I’ll take care of you.”

It isn’t a promise an alpha should make to a mated omega. I know that. But Lucas’s sobs slow, and he says, “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Ever since the first night I saw Lucas fleeing the trailer park in his wolf form, I’ve known that he needed someone to take care of him. Back then, I didn’t question whether it should be me, I just chased after him. And tonight, I don’t care what’s appropriate or normal. Lucas came to me, and that means I’m allowed to help him in whatever way he wants.

He slowly withdraws from me, keeping his gaze on the ground as he does it. His body is tense, as if the movement requires all his willpower and strength. Exactly like when we were kids and he forced himself to rise from our cuddle pile.

Cuddling was something we did a lot as kids. He’d run off in his wolf form once or twice a week, clearly scared out of his mind, and I’d follow. At first, I ran after him in my human form and tried to talk to him, but he was too scared to shift back into a human for hours after his altercations with his father, so eventually, I decided to take my animal form too. We couldn’t talk like that. Raccoon and wolf mouths aren’t suited for human language. So I curled up next to him and rested my snout on the soft fur of his back. I wasn’t sure he’d let me, but he relaxed the moment I did it.

We stayed like that for hours. He’d sleep or just lie there burying his nose into my neck. We weren’t supposed to cuddle as a raccoon and wolf, of course. Shifters are only supposed to share their animal forms with their families and their mates, but it didn’t feel wrong to share that side of myself with him.

Eventually, he’d stand up and back away, his eyes fixed on the ground, his body coiled with tension. There was always a determination in his face, as if he was doing something that required great self-control. I think it was hard for him to leave our cuddle pile and return to the real world.

“How about some French toast?” I suggest.

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