***

“Can you open a window?” The human scrunched up his nose and wrinkled his entire face in about a dozen shades of disgust.

Theodore examined the young man at length. By all standards, the stranger’s face should qualify as ordinary, but Theodore’s wolf demanded that he play a little with this field mouse. He never got involved with this sort of small prey. Therefore, his wolf’s interest was highly unusual.

“The climate control is perfect. Who are you?”

The young man extended his arm over the desk to wave the note at Theodore again.

“Read it,” Theodore ordered.

“Why? Are you illiterate?” the field mouse dared to ask.

“Read it,” Theodore repeated, this time boring his eyes into his unexpected visitor’s.

“All right, all right, you don’t have to bite my head off. Ahem, let’s see. This is a note from Ryder Asherman, the alpha of Luna’s Sentinels. It says: meet me at the top floor of the highest building at the new construction site north of Eleven Avenue. You are cursed, and you are my fated mate. I must save you.” The young man turned the note over, as if he needed to check to see if there wasn’t something else to read on the back. “That’s all.”

“I see.” Theodore felt a ferocious smile curling his lips. His enemy was coming for him again, as expected. Just in time. He had assembled everything he needed. “When?”

“Around seven-ish?” The human winced as if delivering a simple message was an incredible burden.

Of course. Despite his brazen attitude, his little mouse heart was beating wildly, and Theodore was grateful for the incense burning in the corner of his office, because the smell of this human’s sweat was bewitching. His wolf growled low inside his chest, demanding to sniff the creature at length.

“That’s it, so I have to be on my way. You’ll be there, right? ‘Cause I have to go back with an answer. Be there, or else I’ll post on all social media how you suck at being punctual.”

“Who are you?” Theodore asked sharply. “What is your name?”

“Oh, you finally thought of asking. How nice and considerate of you.” The human clenched his hands together and swooned, blinking a few times prettily.

Theodore licked his front teeth quickly. Were his fangs trying to come out? Whatever black magic this messenger was using on him, like that horrible stench of cinnamon, it had to be quite powerful. Despite his unassuming appearance, this human was far from ordinary.

“Your name.”

“Jack. Jack, um, Snail…Snailstone.”

Theodore’s eyes fell on the paperweight on his desk, depicting a giant tiger land snail, an absurd piece gifted to him by one of the most pretentious and famous artists in Glasstone.

“You’re not who you say you are.”

“Does it matter?” Jack, if that was his name, exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “Look, I delivered the message, you said ‘yes’, and my job here is done.”

To show that he meant every word he said, Jack turned on his heel, making a beeline for the door. Theodore moved without thinking. He slammed the door, closing it abruptly before Jack could make his escape, his arm extended above the messenger’s head.

The field mouse yelped and began babbling. “How the hell did you move so fast? Oh, right. Okay my name is Jack Sadler I’m a clairvoyant who just found out about it when I read Ryder’s future you hold a sword so you’re a bad guy please don’t kill me.”

“Clairvoyant?” A curtain of red began its slow descent over Theodore’s eyes. “You’re no clairvoyant, human.”

“I totally am,” Jack protested. “Ryder thinks so, and he’s a good guy.”

Theodore slammed his hand against the door again, triggering a bout of ridiculous pleas from the self-proclaimed clairvoyant. “You know I am a wolf,” he said in a low, threatening voice. “I will exterminate my enemy and then, I will come for you.”

“Why?” Jack asked, as if he was genuinely curious and not scared out of his wits.

Theodore felt his pulse quickening. In this position, he was pressing the human against the door, and a part of him he hadn’t thought about in ages was coming to life.

“Because,” he growled, forcing his lower body into submission through sheer willpower, “the light of knowledge is dim in you, and you’re nothing but a fake, just like your last name.”

“Take that back!” The field mouse gasped in outrage.

Theodore felt a surge of power welling up inside himself, as he dominated this puny human. He reveled in it for a moment, although he couldn’t understand why.

“You are dressed like a clown, your bag is empty just like your life, and you are a complete waste of space.”

Surprisingly enough, Jack turned to face him. His brown eyes were ablaze, and he looked like he was ready to commit murder. Theodore stared at his small, clenched fists, imagining for a moment how easy it would be to overpower this rabid rat.

“You’re nothing but a tramp, so be thankful that I’m letting you live. For now. Whatever magic you’re using to tempt my wolf, it’s not working.”

Jack shook his head, frowning until his eyes turned to slits. “What magic?” He set his chin high in a silly attempt to show he wasn’t scared.

Again, the sight of the upturned nose and full lips filled Theodore’s entire field of vision. A strange sensation curled and unfurled inside his lower belly. He pushed himself away from the door and the strange clairvoyant. This little field mouse needed to go, and fast.

“Leave,” he ordered.

Jack scoffed. “Yeah, okay. I and my empty bag and clown clothes were just going. I hope Ryder tears you to shreds. Bad wolf. Bad.”

Theodore felt his nostrils flaring again. The scent of cinnamon was leaving the room, indeed. And because he was a lowly beast sometimes, his wolf was restless and demanded the human to return.

Of course. His wolf wanted to destroy this human. But his thirst for field mouse blood had to wait.

***