Page 4 of Howlin’ For You

“Vale—”

“They may also need your help with equipment⁠—”

I hold up my hand to stop his rambling. “It sounds like you’d appreciate it if I worked on pretty much anything that the planner requires.”

He huffs a breath. “I would appreciate that, yes. She’s an out-of-towner and I have no idea how she’ll do, but Clover insisted.”

Old Lady Clover—our town seer—doesn’t do anything without a reason.

“Clover did wh—” the question hangs on my tongue unfinished. I’m hit with a scent so spicy and sweet my body practically floats off the ground.

Mate.

My ears perk up as I scent the building. Mate. My mate is in this building. The mate I’ve been convinced didn’t exist after thirty-two years of not finding her.

But where?

I close my eyes and inhale. Cinnamon, vanilla, and a touch of nutmeg. She smells like my favorite fall desserts, and my mouth waters at the fact that I’m simply in the same area as her.

I open my eyes as Vale’s office door opens, the scent intensifying. A smaller woman with lush curves, a nipped waist that opens to wide hips and thighs I could sink my teeth into tentatively steps into the room. Shiny brown hair cascades down her back like a waterfall as she smiles at both of us.

My heart drums in my chest with all the irregular excitement of a man confronted with everything he’s ever wanted.

“I’m sorry if I’m late. I got a little lost,” she says, her musical voice lilting over the words. “My name is Isabella Gregory. I’m the event planner.”

“Nick Martin,” I reply before Vale can say anything, my voice rough. I’ve finally found my Goddess-given soulmate. She’s here.

Perfect green eyes—the color of leaves as the sunlight pours through them from above—find mine. They widen, the cheeks beneath flushing with color.

Now that I’m closer, now that I’ve zeroed in on her, I can smell it. She’s human.

Which means she probably has no idea what’s happening right now. If she were a werewolf, we’d already be out of the building and in my bed. But no, with a human, I have to be careful. Slow.

Fuck.

“Nice to meet you,” she says softly.

“And I’m Cole Vale, mayor.” Vale’s eyes cut to me with a knowing gaze. He’s too observant for his own good. “I appreciate you making the trip all the way up here from Seattle, Isabella.”

She nods, tearing her eyes from me. The loss is intense. I want her entire focus on me, despite how absolutely ridiculous that is. “Of course. I appreciate the opportunity. Can you tell me a little more about the event?”

Vale nods, fingers twitching slightly before he puts them behind his back. “My family founded this town seventy-five years ago as a place where paranormals could act fully as themselves. Be open. Werewolves may be the dominant kind here, but we are also home to vampires, fairies, sirens, shifters, and even our own seer. We would like to celebrate our town and our community. It’s in three weeks, and I expect you two to make it happen.”

Considering Vale isn’t telling her anything I don’t already know, I spend the short exchange simply staring at her.

Isabella.

Even her name is something classically beautiful.

“I’ll email you what I have so far, but to be honest, it isn’t much,” Vale says, breaking me from the hold she has on me. And she isn’t even trying. “You’ll mostly be on your own with this one, but that’s why Nick is here. He’s the local handyman and all-around fix-it guy. He’s going to be your lifeline.”

The wolf in me preens under her attention. It makes me push out my chest to show her I’m a good mate.

I didn’t realize my base instincts would be so hard to control.

“Here is my business card.” I pull out my wallet and grab one of the little white rectangles I hardly ever use, handing it to her.

She takes it, fingers brushing mine for only a second. A second I know I’m going to be replaying for the rest of my life.