Luke's Dream

Luke’s Dream

Melissa Haag

Luke’s Dream

Copyright: Melissa Haag

Published: August 9, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-943051-93-9

Cover Design: Indie-Spired Designs

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise without express written
permission from the author.

Luke’s been kicked in the teeth by fate
enough to know: nice guys finish last.  He’s done being nice
and waiting for his due.

Finding Bethony, another potential Mate, was
supposed to be his chance at a true Mate. However, she’s young and
afraid and needs time to get to know him first. Bethony has
different plans. She’s willing to Claim Luke but only to stop her
terrifying dreams; she’s not interested in love or romance.

The closer the pair get to the Compound, the
deeper the danger becomes. Luke isn’t the only wolf looking for
Bethi. He must choose between Bethi’s safety and peace of mind or
his dream of finding a true Mate.

What did she see in him? Long, shaggy hair,
more facial growth than a yeti, obvious low intelligence based on
his delay in establishing a Claim—a girl like Gabby could do a lot
better than Clay. Like me. My hair was styled. My clothes were neat
and trendy. I looked put together, like a human. Yet, she’d barely
looked twice at me.

Annoyed, I shoved the key into the ignition
to slide the shifter into neutral and pushed the car so it pointed
at the entrance. Why was I even helping her? Because she was so
small and pale and looked exhausted to the point of breaking.
Fragile. Something about that called to me. I was mental. That was
the only explanation. I needed to start avoiding distressed women.
They were nothing but trouble.

With the car moved, I strolled around the
Compound’s parking area. Whatever had Gabby ready to run, I didn’t
want to be left behind to deal with the fallout. And, I had the
feeling Clay wouldn’t be willing to let me tag along with them. So,
I needed a mode of transportation. My four paws would be quick, but
too easy to track. A motorcycle caught my eye. The key was still in
the ignition. Grinning, I took the key and went inside.

Walking the deserted halls reaffirmed that I
needed to leave soon. The single males were long gone after their
failed chance at Gabby’s latest Introduction. I should have beat
it, too. But I hadn’t. She’d asked me to stay just before she’d
passed out two days ago. Then, her Neanderthal protector had
dragged me back to her room so she could ask for my help. Again, I
regretted not leaving. It was too late now, anyway. I’d committed
to this course and wouldn’t quit until I saw it through. Besides,
it wasn’t as if I had anything better to do with my time.

Just outside the apartment where Clay and
Gabby were staying, I paused and listened. Both inside the
apartment and everything around me in the halls remained quiet.
Good. Gabby had made it clear she’d wanted to leave without anyone
knowing. Our kind were naturally good at sneaking around. But we
did it better at night.

I eased the door open and slipped inside. A
low murmur of sound came from the only room in the small apartment.
They were talking. They could do that later.

Crossing the room, I opened the door and
stuck my head in. Clay had his teeth out, glaring at me. Sasquatch.
Why had he gotten the girl? Pushing my resentment aside, I focused
on finishing my job. Help Gabby, then get the hell out of
there.

“Better hurry. You carry her, and I’ll grab
her things,” I said.

Clay nodded and tossed some blankets over
Gabby and lifted her off the bed, wasting no time. I moved into the
room and started throwing her things into her bag. Girls liked
their things. Plus, I wanted my scent on her clothes the next time
she dressed…just to annoy him.

He didn’t wait for me. Carrying her, he left
the room. I wasn’t far behind them. The contentment she was
radiating as she laid her head on his shoulder irritated me.

How could she possibly be content with him?
He was an ungroomed mess and a stalling pushover. The pairing made
no sense to me. If I ever found my Mate, I wouldn’t hesitate to
Claim her. Nothing would stop me from making her mine.

Outside, I led them to the car and opened the
passenger door. As Clay set her on the seat, I impatiently scanned
the building and listened. The idiot was taking too long to buckle
her in. Someone was bound to hear us. When he finally moved away, I
handed Gabby her bag and started to close her door.

She held up a hand, and I impatiently waited
for her to dig in her bag for a pencil and paper. She scribbled
something on it and handed it to me. It seemed a bit late to give
me her number. As I closed the door, I read the note.

Search Virginia around Roanoke and
Lynchburg. There’s a girl like me there.

Stunned, I reread the lines. A girl like
Gabby? Did she mean a potential Mate? I crushed the note in my hand
as Clay started the engine. This information was priceless. With a
racing pulse, I quickly mounted the bike. If I could reach the
woman before any others, I’d be able to establish my Claim first. A
Mate. I wouldn’t screw this up.

Gravel sprayed from under the car’s tires as
Clay gunned for the gate. I started the bike and beat him through
the entrance.

I wasn’t going to stop until I found her and
made her mine.

* * * *

Two days later, I reluctantly checked into a
cheap hotel. There was a lot of area between Roanoke and Lynchburg;
and, according to the map I’d checked, too many small towns to hide
one special female. Finding her would take time. Hopefully, not too
much, though. I was tempted to contact Elder Joshua, the one who
had given permission to approach Gabby, to ask if there were any of
our kind in the area. He had been quick to help me and a few other
packless Forlorn before and would probably help again. But, I
didn’t want him wondering why I was here or why I wanted to
know.

The uncertainty of whether or not I was alone
in the area meant I’d need to find my female as quickly as
possible. I studied the map for a while and planned my next few
days. Public places like shops and business districts would be my
best bet. Since it was the middle of the week and the middle of the
day, I left the room, determined to walk local businesses.

I shifted through the various scents as I
strolled along the sidewalk. Female versus male was easy enough to
discern. Yet, none of the female scents I encountered held that
flavor of appeal that sparked the curiosity I’d felt when I first
scented Gabby. Disappointed, I spent my evening walking the town’s
shops.

The next day went similarly with three other
small towns. During the weekend, I focused on the bigger towns and
their points of interests. Malls, theaters, pubs. Although I didn’t
encounter any unique scents, I did meet a trim yet well-endowed
woman sitting alone in a pub. The idle way she sipped her drink and
the sad look in her eyes reeled me in. Her long dark hair cascaded
down her back as she looked up and met my gaze.

“Hello,” I said, taking the seat beside her.
“Can I buy you a drink?”

She turned to me, her soft brown eyes
sweeping me from head to foot. A slow smile curved her lips. “I’ll
let you buy me several.”

“Celebrating a special occasion?”

“The Redwings lost to the damn Blackhawks.”
She shook her head in disgust and mumbled something about a cane
before taking a long drink and eyeing me once more.

“My name’s Amber. What’s yours?”

“Luke.” Her passion over a hockey game
genuinely interested me.

“Nice accent. Makes my ovaries tingle.”

Oh, I liked her. Grinning, I waved the
bartender over. Having a human woman notice me wasn’t unusual.
Having one interest me enough to hold my attention for more than a
few minutes was. We talked for a bit and when our drinks emptied,
she declined another and invited me back to her place.

I knew I should say no. Most human women
weren’t out for a quick, good time. They wanted relationships.
Commitments. I couldn’t offer either. But, I was tired of being
alone. Tired of the continuous cycle of hopeless Introductions.
Tired of searching for a girl who seemed impossible to find.

Amber leaned forward, her ample cleavage on
display in her snug top.

“Before you decide, I should tell you…I don’t
believe in the Easter Bunny or underwear.”

No man could say no to such a blatant
invitation.

The morning after I felt a great deal of
shame sneaking from her home. I shouldn’t have ever gone home with
her, yet I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. I’d craved a
feminine touch for too long, and experiencing it only pushed me to
increase my efforts to find my true Mate. I slept less and moved
around more, always searching for the scent that would call to
me.

Two weeks passed without a trace of anything
interesting. I doubled back and searched some of the bigger towns
again. How could one female be so hard to find? The piece of paper
from Gabby had rounded corners and loose creases from all the times
I had reread it in an effort to figure out where to look next.

Irritated with my failure so far, I went to
bed early on Saturday and checked out of the hotel the next
morning. I was running low on funds. Unlike my Forlorn brethren, I
wasn’t opposed to employment. Prior to my parents’ untimely deaths,
my father had worked in a shop in England. We’d rented a modest
cottage with numerous neighboring fields on which we could run when
the mood struck. After their deaths, I’d used the money my parents
had saved to come to America. Since then, I’d worked and built
myself a half-life. Living with others like me, bouncing from place
to place, I’d saved what I’d earned with the hope I’d find a Mate
and we could use the money to make a comfortable life for
ourselves.

Seeing that money disappear on hotel rooms
for an increasingly pointless search rankled. As I drove to the
mall, my last stop before leaving the current town, I considered
ringing Gabby to ask if there was anything else she could tell me
to help with the search. But, that would be like admitting I was
inadequate for the task. I wouldn’t admit defeat.

The crowded parking lot indicated a busy
mall. Neatly dressed and perfumed women exited cars and walked
toward the entrance as I got off the bike. I studied the females I
passed. I couldn’t help it; I craved a woman of my own. Holding the
door for a few, I inhaled and enjoyed their scents and wished just
one would call to me.

The shops were just opening as I walked the
main thoroughfares. The scent of sweetbread filled the air and led
me to the food court. I inhaled greedily, having not yet eaten, and
was about to find the source of the sugared cinnamon scent when a
group of adolescent females caught my eye. Two were kissing. My
feet slowed. What man wouldn’t look? It made me wish I was young
enough for high school again.

A blonde girl stood to the side, slowly
shaking her head at the pair. The taller of the two kissing girls
had streaks of vivid pink in her hair and several piercings on her
face. Pretty, but not my type. I couldn’t see much of the shorter
girl’s face, only her dark hair, tense back, and fisted hands. If I
had to guess, I would say she didn’t care for the kiss.

My gaze swept over her thin long-sleeved
shirt, dark skinny jeans, and sneakers, noting everything. The
slight bumps of her spine and prominent wrist bones hinted at a
weight issue. The wrinkles in her shirt and loose shoes hinted at a
disregard for hygiene. Altogether, the signs screamed poor
self-image. Yet, someone with a poor self-image usually had a very
natural scent.

I discreetly moved closer, sampling the air
as I moved. The other two had normal feminine scents. The one who
had my attention smelled of chemicals, which was odd. There was so
much covering up her scent I wouldn’t have known if she was female
or male if I couldn’t see her. It wasn’t just her body spray, but
also exhaust imbedded in her clothes as if she’d stood next to a
freeway for hours. The unnatural bitter scent of hair dye clung to
her as did something sour.

Something about her and the way she held
herself hinted at desperation. I couldn’t stop staring. When the
two broke apart, I saw her face. Yesterday’s makeup was smudged
around her eyes. She was pale and sickly looking. Her hands shook,
and she swayed on her feet. She was beyond fragile. She was already
cracked and broken.

Suddenly, I felt it. A slight pull. The
reality of the situation stunned, then angered me. Jaw clenched and
hands fisted, I watched her nod at the pierced girl. This broken
girl was the woman Gabby sent me to find?