Chapter 2

Lorien's POV.

The airport is a chaotic hive, teeming with humans who are desperately rushing to destinations they'd rather avoid. I observe as their young cry incessantly, while the women valiantly hold everything together and the men feign confidence they clearly lack. It's an amusing sight, yet utterly pathetic at the same time.

I despise them all.

Humans, who desired to strip us of our mineral-rich land, bribed the six pack members to execute my father and brother. They would have killed me as well, but I had left that very morning to start my classes at MIT.

In my role as Lycan King, I deal with humans because I have to. Not because I want to.

I grab a seat at the first cafe inside the Portland terminal. After a few moments, a server comes up and asks me if I'm ready to place an order. She's younger than me, blonde and bubbly. With a smile, she eyes me like the last hamburger on the barbecue grill.

“Are you…” She pops her hip and licks her lips seductively. “Ah, ready to order?”

I tell her my choices, and while I do, her nipples pebble under her tight white t-shirt. If she only knew how much I can't stand to be around her kind, she wouldn't be so obvious in her flirty appraisal.

“Evian and a ham and cheese croissant?” she questions, like I'm too stupid to know what I want. “Is that all? We have–”

“That's it.” I say, trying to check my impatience. “Thanks.”

She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, tongue darting out once again to lick her pink lips. “You really should try–”

“No,” I say tightly. “That's it.” My expression must be darker than sin, as much like Lila this morning, the server slowly backs away, only turning once her ass hits the double swing doors that lead into the kitchen.

And if she gets pissy and spits in my food, I'll know it. I'll smell it.

The heightened olfactory senses of Lycans often prove to be both a gift and a curse. While I appreciate the ability to perceive scents on a level far beyond any human, dog, or elephant, it also means that unpleasant odors can knock me to my knees. Take for instance the human mother passing by with a baby in a smelly diaper. That shit nearly puts me off my croissant. I devour it though. With all the work I had to get through this morning, this is the first thing I've eaten all day.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Shakespeare was right about that.

Being the Lycan King is not an easy task. It comes with responsibilities and burdens that almost overwhelm me at times. Daily I'm reminded of my duty to my pack and my kind.

As the secret crime enforcement unit for the Western Territories, I'm constantly surfing the Dark Web, trying to locate Lycan criminals and the humans they work with. The safety of my territory for wolves and humans alike rests on my ability to stay one step ahead of those who seek to cause harm.

The challenges do not end there. As the owner of a shifter bar, there is a never-ending stream of paperwork that requires my attention. Licensing, permits, and the countless regulations that come with running a business all fall to me.

And then there are the daily tasks of managing my staff and creating schedules. A King is nothing without the loyalty and support of his followers. The responsibility of ensuring their well-being and maintaining order within the pack is my responsibility.

But amidst the chaos, there is one thing that keeps my sanity intact and that is sex. I find it an outlet for my frustrations, a form of escape from the constant demands of my position. In those intimate moments, I can forget about the troubles that plague me and simply be.

Even with this respite, sleep remains elusive. My enforcers tease me constantly to pick a she-wolf and settle down. I can't. The restlessness of my wolf, the instinctual drive to find my mate, consumes my nights. It is an ache that gnaws at my very soul, a constant reminder of what I am missing.

As the Lycan King, finding my mate is not just a personal desire. It is a necessity, an integral part of maintaining the balance and harmony within my pack. The longer I delay this search, the more my wolf's restlessness grows, threatening to plunge me into madness.

So, I endure the weariness. I push through the exhaustion. One day, I'll find my mate. A strong she-wolf who will help me alleviate the burden on my shoulders.

And I look forward to that day with every fiber of my being.

Finished with my meal, I dab the plate with my fingers and lick off the crumbs. I push back my chair and rise to pay my bill at the register. I haven't seen the server since she dropped off my check. I must have really scared her.

I don't feel bad about it. The female was annoying.

“How was your meal, sir?” The woman at the counter is a grandmotherly type with gray hair in a bun so tight, her scalp must be screaming. Still, she has kind brown eyes and a sincere smile.

“It was great. I–”

The sweet smell of violets of damp earth after a spring rain hits my nose and fills my brain. My heart thumps like a gong in my chest. I barely hear the cashier ask if I'm alright before I throw some bills at her and race off, trying to follow the scent of…

My phone rings. It's Jasper's ringtone. If it was anyone else, I'd let that shit go to voicemail. I pull the device from my jacket and bark out, “Damn you, Jasper.”

“Whoa, I just got back and you're yelling at me already?”

I rake a hand through my hair. “I thought… I just…” I look around, scanning every female I see. Not one of them is her.

“What? Is the Lycan King at a loss for words? No! It can't be true!” Jasper ends in a falsetto that nearly explodes my skull with its high pitch.

If he weren't like a brother to me, I'd smash his face the moment I saw him. “You'd better shut that snout of yours right. The F. Now.”

Jasper chuckles, his laughter grating on my last nerve. "Oh, come on, Alpha. Can't I have a little fun? It's not every day I witness the almighty Lycan King speechless." His words drip with sarcasm, and it takes all my self-control not to lose my temper entirely. “I have my bags and I'm waiting for my Prince Charming.”

I clench the phones so tight, the screen cracks. Taking a deep, calming breath, I respond, trying to keep my annoyance in check. “I'll meet you at the escalator. And enough with the theatrics, okay? You know what today is.”

Shitty of me to use today as an excuse, I know. If I told Jasper what I thought I smelled…Well, he wouldn't believe me. And damn me if I want to hear his mouth about it during the long car ride home.

“Sorry, Lorien,” Jasper says, contrite. “I forgot. I'll meet you by the escalator, okay, bro? You just hang in there.”

We hang up, and as I head towards Jasper, I seek out the sweet scent of violets and earth tinted with spring rain.

The scent of my mate.