Nate Stone has a problem. His uncle, pack Alpha Wendel Adler, and his cousin are both dead—leaving Nate the only one who can take care of the Adler pack. He is torn between his lack of interest in leadership and his desire to help... at least, until his path crosses that of Valentine Smythe. His mate.
The chemistry between them is explosive, and the attraction goes beyond the sexual. But there's still a strong gap between them, one that neither Nate nor Val can deny. Will their bond survive the weight of Nate’s secret, or will their differences prove to be too much to handle?
A slight crash sounded, and Val guessed the other car had still hit him—although far less than he'd originally thought would happen. Fortunately, the impact wasn't enough to trigger the airbags or make Val lose control of the car. Even so, he was still shocked as hell. He managed to stop the vehicle and then placed his head on the wheel. His heart was racing a million miles an hour. He'd never been in a car accident, and this particular experience confirmed what he'd already suspected—that they sucked.
Despite still being rattled, Val freed himself from the seat belt and opened the door. He had to check up on the other driver. Hopefully, he or she—Val hadn't seen them close enough to distinguish the gender—hadn't been hurt. The accident didn't seem serious, so Val guessed that must be the case, but he needed to make sure, and if there was an injury, he would have to call the ambulance.
Thankfully, he needn't have worried. No sooner had he left the car than he ran straight into a tall, dark-haired man. Val blinked in surprise and shot a look past the guy's shoulder. The car was, indeed, abandoned on the side of the road, the door open. Okay, so this was clearly the other person involved in the accident. No injuries, from what Val could tell. Thank God. Although, there would still be the police, all the formalities, insurance... Val's relaxing weekend had just evaporated into nothing.
"Are you all right?" the man asked, voice thick with obvious concern.
His voice cleared the haze of Val's frantic thoughts, and he could finally focus on his companion. His breath caught, and this time, not because of fear. In hindsight, he had no idea how he could have missed the perfect specimen of masculinity currently standing in front of him. The man was, plainly put, a walking wet dream. His eyes were a piercing hazel, so deep they somehow seemed to shine gold. His tight shirt appeared to be a few sizes too small and emphasized his rippling abs and stunning pectorals. Val would have thought the man had deliberately gone for that effect if he hadn't suspected the handsome stranger needed no artifice to have both men and women swooning at his feet.
Val shook himself, berating his libido for taking over at such a bad time. The stranger's concerned expression reminded him he had yet to answer the question. "Uh, yes," he finally managed to reply. "I'm fine. Just a little rattled. You?"
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