Page 14 of Her Wolf Protector

That was weird, but it didn't change things. If he wanted a favour from Ylva, she'd be more helpful if he buttered her up with fresh biscuits, and the Buzzy Barista made her favourite.

"What can I get you?" the barista asked.

"I need a box of bikkies. What have you got?"

"Not much left. It's been a busy one, and today you get a free coffee with every three biscuits you buy, so we're almost out. I can check if there are any out the back..."

"Please do."

The barista came back grinning. "I forgot a tray of macadamia and white chocolate shortbread on the cooling rack. How many do you want?"

One out of three would have been enough to sweeten Ylva. All three? Fate was smiling on him today. "I'll take the whole box."

"How do you want your free coffee?" the barista asked.

"Just the bikkies, thanks."

"But there's a dozen here. That's four free coffees."

"I really don't need any."

"Tea? Hot chocolate? What about a puppacino for your gorgeous dog? She's so well trained. You didn't even have a leash and she just sat there patiently."

Because the very thought of collaring his mate made Tate want to punch something. As for offering her dog food...that would only come back to bite him on the arse, if she didn't do it the moment he insulted her like that.

"She's not mine. I'm just taking care of her for a few days," Tate said. Forever, if he had any say, but that would be up to her.

"You sure you don't want a coffee?"

"Just the bikkies, please."

After what felt like forever but was probably less than five minutes, Tate left the shop with a paper carry bag full of shortbread. He reached for the handle on the passenger side.

"Hey, Tate, do you have a minute?"

His mate slunk deeper into the foot well, out of sight.

Tate spun around. "Sure, Hartwin." He leaned against the side of his pickup, like he had all the time in the world for the other pack enforcer.

"You've been staying up at Tarn Cottage, yeah?"

Tate nodded. "Taking routine water samples." Because if anyone knew the water might be contaminated, the Sanctuary development might be delayed even longer.

"Have you seen anything weird out there?"

Mushrooms that looked like apples and spewed gold dust into the air. Gangs of marauding otters that attacked werewolves. The fated mate he never thought he'd meet.

"Weird like what?"

Hartwin jabbed a thumb at a printed piece of paper stuck to the nearest lamppost. No, to every lamppost along the street, and a fair few shop walls and windows, too. "There's a girl who went missing about a week ago. Her mum's come into the station crying, saying her daughter was depressed, tried to off herself, so they took her to hospital in Glasgow, except she escaped, and someone found her scooter on the road to town, except it looked like a lorry had run over it, but there was no sign of the girl. We let her put up a bunch of posters of the missing girl, but you know how cold it's been this week, and the woods around here are no place for a city girl in good weather, so even if we do find her, it'll be bad news, if you know what I mean..." He snagged one of the pieces of paper. "Here. In case she's recognisable, and it says what clothes she was wearing."

It took a moment, but Tate had put the pieces together. "You want me to go up to Tarn Cottage and sniff out some girl's corpse?" Tate spread the piece of paper against the pickup's window. A girl's face stared back at him.

The human face of his mate.

Arwen Snow, the poster said her name was.

"I'll owe you one. A whole carton of that sixteen-year-old whisky you like. You know you'll find her faster than most. I'd do it myself, but Head Office sent us a new constable this week and I can hardly go nosing through the woods with him shadowing me. No one knows those woods better than you do. If you find her, no one will question how quickly. Please, mate. I'm begging you. If you can find her before the press gets hold of this, I'll owe you big. The last thing we want is paparazzi digging things up around here."