Damon Blackwood

The pack meeting ran two hours longer than it needed to.

Caiden and I are halfway home when hunger wins and we stop at a roadside diner.

Ten minutes later, he's across from me reading the menu while I drink coffee that could probably strip paint.

[You like it.]

It's functional.

[It's terrible.]

I'm still drinking it.

"Are you arguing with Koda?" Caiden asks.

"No."

[Yes.]

Caiden nods. "Thought so."

I take another drink.

Then stop.

Something catches beneath the smell of coffee and fried food.

Someone.

Koda goes completely still.

[Wait.]

I already feel it.

My attention shifts across the diner as the scent reaches me again.

[Koda.]

[Mate.]

There isn't any uncertainty in him.

Or me.

Thirty years knowing this could happen, and apparently neither of us prepared anything useful to say.

[Go introduce yourself.]

I'm thinking.

[That's usually where the trouble starts.]

I find the source of the scent.

A stranger.

Someone I've never seen before.

Mate.

Caiden follows my gaze.

"Oh."

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

[He didn't have to.]

I slide out of the booth.

[Try not to make this weird.]

Excellent advice from the wolf currently narrating my walk across a diner.

[I provide a service.]

I stop beside the stranger's table, keeping a comfortable distance.

"Excuse me."

[Strong start.]

Koda.

[Helping.]

I meet the stranger's eyes.

"I'm Damon. My wolf's name is Koda."

There really isn't a graceful way to say the next part.

"He recognized your scent."

[We recognized their scent.]

Fine.

"We recognized your scent."

I exhale quietly.

"You're our mate."

I let that information stand on its own instead of deciding what happens next.

"And this would probably be less awkward if I knew your name."