Shane Dalton

Shane is halfway up his driveway when Boone suddenly surges forward inside his head.

He stops dead.

The reaction is so sharp and immediate that his keys slip against his fingers.

[Boone: Mate.]

Shane's brow furrows.

"What?"

[Boone: Mate.]

Then the scent hits him.

Familiar.

Next door.

Shane slowly turns his head toward the neighboring house.

No.

There is absolutely no fucking way.

[Boone: Mate.]

"No."

Boone pushes forward again, unmistakably pleased with himself.

[Boone: Yes.]

Shane stares toward the house belonging to the single most irritating person he has ever had the misfortune of sharing a property line with.

The same neighbor who argues with him about parking.

The same neighbor who once left MOVE YOUR FUCKING TRUCK, DALTON under his windshield wiper.

His mate.

Shane closes his eyes.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

[Boone: Go.]

"I'm not going over there."

[Boone: Mate.]

"I heard you the first three fucking times."

He unlocks his front door and steps inside.

Boone immediately begins pacing beneath his skin.

[Boone: Tell mate.]

"Tell them what, exactly?"

Shane drops his keys onto the counter.

"'Hey, turns out werewolves are real, I've secretly been one the entire time, and the wolf living in my head just decided you're the most important person in our life?'"

Silence.

[Boone: Yes.]

Shane stares at nothing.

"Fantastic."