Chapter Four

Emmett was treating his phone like someone was about to call him with news that he'd won the lottery. Everywhere he went, every meeting he was in, even when he was in his office, it was sitting beside him, waiting for that text from Petra to tell him where and when she wanted to see him. He'd kept it with him all evening, on the bench beside him while he was cooking dinner, propped on his bedside table when he was getting ready to go to sleep. He gave in to the desperation that had his wolf feeling like it had been trapped in a too-small cage and texted her, as he was fighting to calm down enough that he could sleep.

E: Thanks for the call today. Feels better knowing we have a plan. See you tomorrow.

It was half an hour before she texted back, long enough that he'd almost managed to force himself into something like relaxation, or at least resembling it enough that he might be able to manage sleep. Of course, that was shot to hell the moment his phone dinged with the message tone as he shot bolt upright in bed like he'd just been zapped with a cattle prod. He fumbled for his phone and managed to open her reply.

P: Always good to have a plan! I'll let you know about tomorrow once I've worked out how early I can sneak away from work.

Another text came through moments later.

P: I was thinking the little café on Walker Road maybe? The one with the really good pastries?

Her texts told him nothing he hadn't already known, but just the fact that she was thinking of him this late at night… suddenly all his blood was rushing south. No, he commanded himself. No, he would not disrespect her by jerking off to the thought of her when she'd made it clear that all she wanted was to be free of this bond between them. No matter if Raj had been partly right when he'd suggested that Em was hoping that spending extra time together might convince Petra that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be mated to him. Even if she still didn't believe they were mates, she couldn't deny there was a connection between them. She'd said as much when she acknowledged his scent was as appealing to her as hers was to him.

Was she having this response to him too? Was she as attracted to him as he was to her? He tried not to let his mind create the idea of Petra in her own bed, phone in hand, thinking about what to text him. Thinking about sitting across a table from him, breathing in the scent that was apparently as alluring to her as hers was to him. Imagining having him close to her, the way he was picturing having her near him again.

E: That would work just fine. Looking forward to it.

He looked down at his overly excited body after he'd written the text and climbed out of bed to jump in a freezing cold shower.

It didn't have much effect.

He was still thinking about her when he finally managed to sink into sleep.

* * *

Emmett was not particularly useful at work the next day, partly because he couldn't keep his mind on what he was supposed to be doing—helping organize a burlesque dance event—partly because it moved to Petra every time he saw one of the promotional images of a beautiful woman in lingerie, and partly because he was checking his phone approximately every thirty seconds. His co-workers started to realize what he was doing after a few hours.

"What are you looking for, man?" Freddie, one of his workmates he was better friends with, demanded after Emmett checked his phone for approximately the nineteenth time while they were discussing catering. "Is something wrong at home or something? You got a chick you're waiting to hear from?"

"Just some pack business we're working out, with the change of Alphas," Emmett lied smoothly.

"How hard is it to change Alphas?" Freddie asked. He was human, but in Mystic City, no one grew up without being exposed to at least some of the inner workings of supernatural groups. "Don't some packs change them, like, every couple of years?"

"Yeah, but James was ours for more than fifteen years," Emmett said. "And he didn't exactly have a lot of systems in place. So, we're kind of starting from scratch." He glanced down at his phone again. "And everything is very up in the air." Ain't that the truth, and I don't just mean about the pack.

"No stress, man," Freddie said, giving him a punch to the shoulder. "I just figured you had some girl on the go again," he added with a laugh.

"Not at the moment," Emmett said. Without conscious instruction from his brain, his mouth continued, "I'm working on this gorgeous girl who works in the Youth and Community department, but she's kind of reluctant. She's incredible, though. I can't give up on her."

"Reluctant? With you?" Freddie asked, making a shocked face. "Damn, that's gotta be a first. How does it feel to live like the rest of us?"

"Honestly, not great." Emmett laughed, wondering why he'd told Freddie what was going on. "We're getting coffee this afternoon, though, so I might be in with a chance."

"Yes, what a man! Not so reluctant after all. Well, good luck, man. And with the pack stuff. I know you guys are learning on the go there."

"You know what they say, when the going gets tough," Emmett said with a self-deprecating laugh and a shrug.

"The tough look up what they need to know on Wikipedia." Freddie chortled. "Not really an option, when you're trying to sort out governing processes for the largest pack in Mystic City. Good luck, bro. Tell me if there's anything you need help with."

"Only someone to get on the case of the caterers for this event," Emmett told him with a grateful smile. "If they don't get their shit together, we're going to have to go with someone else."

"On it," Freddie said and walked away with a grin.

Just in time for Emmett's phone to light up with a text. He grabbed at it so desperately, he almost threw it at the office door before he could read it. Yes, it was from her, thank the gods.

P: Good afternoon! Does Café Pietro still work for you? All things going according to plan, can I meet you there around 4? I know they're open until 5.

Emmett would have walked the entire way to the café over broken glass and used syringes if it meant he got to spend time with Petra. And he only had to wait a few hours until he saw her? Perfect. Not that he could rely on himself to get any good work done in those hours, he could already predict that. Not while he was on the edge of his seat waiting to see his mate again after what felt like years.

E: That works just fine. See you then.

He fumbled through some of the organizational stuff for the events he currently had on the cards, getting maybe half his usual amount of work done then, at quarter to four, rose from his desk. He had a sudden urge to duck into the bathroom and check that he looked all right, as though he hadn't changed clothes twice that morning with this exact situation in mind, but stopped himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, straightened his shirt, and headed to the little café.

He got there slightly early, so he nabbed a table and ordered coffee. Not knowing how she took her coffee, he didn't order for Petra, but he did find himself ordering one of pretty much every type of pastry they had left. The small table he'd picked was all but covered in desserts when she arrived, and she took one look at it and gave a small laugh. The sound ran like quicksilver through his veins, thankfully breaking him free from the awkwardly frozen position he'd become trapped in when he laid eyes on her.

"Hi, Emmett," she said with a grin, putting her bag down by the seat and shedding her blazer, revealing another business outfit that was going to haunt his dreams with the way it perfectly half-hid, half-revealed the curves of her body. Her scent hit him like a truck, and he had to consciously hold in a groan. "Were you worried about your blood sugar or something?" she asked, gesturing to the pastries. "You said you had a sweet tooth, but this is extreme."

"I didn't know what you liked," he hedged, feeling his face reddening. Part of him took satisfaction in the fact that she'd remembered his offhand comment about liking sweet things, even if it had started with the confession of his embarrassing history with beehives.

"That's very, um, sweet of you," Petra said, smiling. "I might order a coffee before we get started if you don't mind?"

He nodded, not really trusting himself to speak, and surveyed the plates crammed onto the table. Okay, so this had been a little extreme. Well, he'd just have to get them to wrap up anything they didn't eat for her to take home if she wanted. The idea of supplying her with food, even if it was just a packet of pastries, providing for her in that way, sent warmth through him.

Petra settled into the chair opposite him, sending him a smile that probably shouldn't have made his blood heat. That, combined with her scent wrapping itself around him like tendrils of smoke, felt like it was fogging his brain with the most intense attraction he'd ever felt.

"How do you take your coffee?" Emmett heard himself ask. "So next time I can add that to this ridiculous spread and have it ready when you arrive."

"Just a latte is good," she said. "All of this really wasn't necessary, you know."

"I'm very aware of that," Emmett admitted. "But hey, it's all here now, so we might as well try everything. We can take the leftovers home if we don't finish it all."

"Do you think there's even a chance we're going to finish all of these?" Petra asked, raising her eyebrows.

"We won't know unless we try," Emmett said. "Come on, let's make a start. I've heard good things about their chocolate croissants."

"And you got lemon meringue pie!" Petra crowed as she surveyed the spread. "I'm calling dibs on that one."

"All yours," Em managed, storing away her preference in his mind for what he hoped would be repeats of this interaction.

They had tried bites of about half of the pastries and compared opinions before Petra brought up the reason they were there. "So, I was thinking about what the questions should be that we're trying to answer with this research."

Emmett swallowed the bite of custard tart he had in his mouth with some difficulty. "Great," he managed.

"I was thinking maybe we should think about why the universe selected us to have this, um, connection," Petra said, looking down at the table like she was ashamed to be mentioning it. "Maybe see how many accounts we can find of other people who have dealt with this. I mean, it's not like we're the first; didn't you say Leo was like this with Della? So, the other thing I was thinking was maybe, once things have settled down with them a little, we could organize to speak to them. Hear the story from their perspective."

"That's not a bad idea," Emmett said, wondering if having a conversation with Leo, who had been overwhelmed by his attraction to Della from practically the first moment he'd caught her scent, would make Petra more or less convinced that they were mates. "And I can speak to Raj and see if he can dig up some books that specifically talk about managing situations that are… similar to ours."

"Good plan," Petra said. She seemed to be settling into the conversation more, less embarrassed to be discussing what was between them now that he was participating too. "We want to find out if there are people who have managed to overcome this kind of… appeal, don't you think? How they've managed it?"

"Yes," Emmett lied. "We should look for reports of that."

"And what the situation was where they were… exposed to each other in the beginning, and how they managed it, in case that makes a difference," she continued.

"I'm sure if we go through as many of the books as Raj can find in the library for us, we'll find some stories of people who have dealt with something like this," Emmett said. "I can talk to him next time I see him—we're supposed to be catching up to watch the game, anyway—and maybe he'll have a collection for us to start with on the weekend if you're free?" He wondered if he had anything planned for this weekend, since he knew without a doubt that he'd cancel it to spend more time with Petra. "I teach a class on Saturday mornings, but that's usually over by about ten. Maybe we could grab lunch then make a start on it after if Raj thinks he'll have enough of a collection to make it worth our while by then?"

"A class?" Petra asked, her eyebrows drawing together. "Don't you work in event management?"

"It's a self-defense class," Emmett explained. "I've been doing them for a few years, since the elders of the pack realized Leo, Raj and I were winning all the fights we kept getting into. I think they thought it'd stop us getting into trouble if they found a way for us to focus our energy. And I have to say, it worked. I haven't gotten into a real fight in years. Though that might partly be because Leo has become very good at talking our way out of them," he admitted without thinking.

"Oh, I heard about you coming close to one with Teddy Haverford at the Deep Waters pub, after you tried to hit on his partner Ebony."

"Ah," Emmett said, wondering how this conversation had suddenly shifted so far out of his control. "Yes. Well. That was mostly a misunderstanding. And Teddy and I shook and made up like grown men."

"It's okay, Emmett," Petra said softly, placing her hand over his where it lay on the table between the half-eaten pastries. The touch of her skin zapped through him like a lightning bolt. He had to stop himself from flinching upright like he'd been electrocuted. "You don't have to hide from me. I'm not some potential girlfriend you're trying to impress or pretend to be someone else with. We're friends, and we're going to find a way to break this scent bond, and then everything will be back to normal."

No, Emmett wanted to howl. Don't take yourself away from me. I want you to be mine, regardless of who I was before. I don't want to lose you, or have this, this… this taken away from me. I don't just want to be your friend to whom you were once strangely bonded. He tried to take a slow, deep breath to calm himself down, but all he got was a lungful of her scent, and it rushed through his body like he'd just been injected with adrenaline. Did she not feel it, this drive to be together? Did she not have this motivation to claim him as her own and keep him forever? Gods, maybe he had been right the first time, and she wasn't truly his mate, if she wasn't feeling the things that he was. Maybe doing all this research into how the mate bonds were formed—and how to break them—would be good if it freed him to find a mate who wanted him as desperately as he wanted her.

He managed to send Petra a smile before draining his coffee, using the mug to mask the slightly heartbroken expression he was sure was on his face. Once he was sure he'd be able to look politely interested again, he lowered the mug to the table. "I don't know if I can eat much more of these," he said, hoping she wouldn't notice that he was blatantly changing the subject. "I really overdid it with the ordering."

"That's for sure," Petra said with a smile that said she had no idea that it felt like he'd just taken a kick to the sternum. "I'm sure they'd put them in a bag if you wanted to take them home."

"Oh, I definitely don't need all of these," Em said, unable to stop himself from still trying to provide for at least one of her needs, even if she didn't want that from him. Even if she didn't want him. "You should take some too."

"That's really kind of you," she said with another of those life-affirming smiles. Truly, she had no idea that what she'd said had swept his feet—his hopes—completely out from under him. "Do you have any preferences?"

"I'll take whatever you don't want," Emmett said.

"The problem is I'd very happily take all of them." Petra laughed. "All right, maybe we take turns to pick one. That way we'll each get some of the ones we like most."

"You're good at this," Emmett noted, realizing once he'd said it that the observation had come out sounding very sudden. "Setting up systems. Making plans."

"Well, it's a lot of my job," Petra said, shrugging. "I have to be good at it."

"Or maybe they gave you the job because you're good at it," Emmett suggested.

"I don't know, I've always been like this," Petra said, looking down at her hands. "Things make more sense to me when they're organized logically, you know? I mean, we live in a world with magic on every street corner. Yesterday, I saw one of the witches at work cooking her lunch with a spell because there was a line for the microwave. If I didn't find ways to make the world around me logical, nothing would make sense."

"Is that…" Emmett hesitated, but forged on. "Is that why this bond is so… so unpleasant to you? Why you want to get rid of it so much? Because it's not logical?"

Petra looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. Gods, she had beautiful eyes, especially when they were half-silver like this. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other over the table of half-eaten pastries, neither of them saying a word.

Eventually, Petra looked away. "Maybe," she said softly. "I hadn't really thought of it like that. That's partly it, I think—I mean, even with all the magic we live with, this doesn't make a lot of sense, does it? The mating story we tell pups, werewolves having one perfect partner—it's like, what would happen if you never met them? You'd be unfulfilled your entire life, forever incomplete because you haven't found your perfect other half. Does that seem like a lot of the wolves you know? Like they're wasting away waiting to find their ideal lover? No, they're not, and that's what makes me think it's not real."

"But it is real," Emmett insisted, reaching out to touch her hand where it lay on the table's surface. Satisfaction burned through him when she jumped but didn't pull her hand away. "What we're feeling, Petra, the way I respond to you—the way you respond to me—that's real. You can't deny that."

"That's why I need to understand it," Petra said with heartfelt emotion, meeting his eyes again. "That's why I need to do this research, find out what this means, and where it comes from, and how to get—" She cut herself off.

There was a moment of silence. "Get rid of it," Emmett finished for her quietly. "That's what you were going to say, wasn't it? How to get rid of it."

"It's not—" she started, but cut herself off once more. "It's not meant to be an attack on you personally, that I don't like the idea of having a bond to someone just because they smell incredible, and I don't get to choose, and the universe just decides for me who my perfect partner is even when they don't fit—" Yet again, she silenced herself.

"Is it because it's me?" Emmett asked quietly. "Because I don't fit your plan of who your partner was going to be, how your life was going to be?"

"Emmett," Petra said, her voice pleading, but he noticed she didn't deny that it was true. After a long moment she said, "I just don't want to be bonded to someone as though the universe has chosen them as my 'mate' or whatever without consulting me, all right? Without my consent."

He pushed his chair back and stood. "Take the pastries with you," he managed to say, trying not to let the broken feeling in his chest show in his voice. "I'll message you when I have a time from Raj that we can get that research done. Maybe find a way to get rid of this bond altogether."

He left the café without looking back.