Page 14 of Jace’s Mate (East Coast Territory #1)

T hey drove in silence, the engine’s low rumble the only sound between them. Anikka sat rigid, her thoughts a chaotic mess. Nothing made sense—except the strange, magnetic pull toward the man beside her.

The moment they pulled up to the docks, her senses were assaulted.

The smell hit her first—salt and brine, diesel, rusting metal, rotting fish, sweat, oil… body odor. Disgusting. Familiar. Real. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was freedom . After weeks of being cooped up in that decaying rental house, the sting of sea air was a relief.

She almost smiled.

Her thoughts flicked, unbidden, to her uncle. Was he searching for her now? Had he sent his guards to drag her back?

“Doesn’t matter,” Jace said flatly, never looking at her. “Come on. Time to find the boys causing trouble.”

She blinked at him. “You—how did you—?”

“I told you,” he said, his voice a low, confident rumble. “I can hear your thoughts.”

They walked side by side along the cracked concrete.

Anikka tried to stay focused on their task, but she couldn’t stop cataloguing what she felt.

Every breath she took sharpened her senses.

And walking next to Jace—this broad-shouldered, terrifying man who somehow made her feel seen, protected—she felt something foreign spread through her chest.

Safe.

The word echoed in her mind like an alien thought. She didn’t know what safety felt like. Not with her uncle. Not ever. But now? It was like something inside her unfurled, unfolding wings she hadn’t known existed, soaking in light she’d never felt before.

Then she saw it—movement in the shadows.

Her body tensed.

Near the edge of a shipping container, three silhouettes darted behind a rusted dumpster. Young. Thin. Twitchy.

Teenagers.

Her gaze narrowed. They weren’t dangerous.

They were starving .

She could feel it—deep and clawing. That hollow ache in their bellies. That reckless, desperate hunger that made people do foolish, dangerous things. It was all too familiar.

“Jace,” she whispered, leaning in. “Who are those boys?”

He looked toward the shadows. His hand slid around her waist instinctively, drawing her closer. “Could be them. You see something I don’t?”

“They’re hiding,” she whispered. “But not from me. From you.”

He grunted. “Smart boys.”

She didn’t wait. Anikka slipped from his grasp and walked toward the dumpster.

“Anikka,” Jace called, warning in his voice. He moved to follow, but she waved him off, not stopping.

She wasn’t going to be held back anymore.

Not by fear. Not by men. Not by anyone.

“I know what they’re feeling,” she called over her shoulder. “I know what it’s like to be that hungry. Please,” she pleaded, “let me help them.”

Jace cursed softly and strode after her.

But she was already at the dumpster, her steps slow but confident.

“Hey,” she called gently, crouching low. “I see you. You okay?”

No answer. But she could feel it—the panic. The bracing tension before a strike. These weren’t just teenagers. They were shifters . And shifters backed into corners were unpredictable.

Jace reached her, grabbing her arm. “They haven’t eaten in days. They’re on edge. One wrong move—”

“I’m not afraid,” she snapped. “And you don’t get to tell me not to care.”

He stared at her for a long moment. Then, without a word, he stepped in front of her.

“Let me handle it,” he said quietly, his tone pure Alpha. “Watch. Learn. Then, if they don’t bolt, you can talk to them.”

She opened her mouth to argue—but Jace shoved her behind him, his arm a firm wall across her body.

“Come on out,” he barked. “ Now. ”

That voice again. Commanding. Dominant. Dangerous.

Anikka’s fingers twitched at her sides. Was it normal to want to bite a man just for the sound of his voice? Melt into it—or tackle him to the concrete? She wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch him or pounce.

Probably both.

She caught movement in the shadows. Three messy heads peeked out from behind the dumpster. Wide eyes. Hollow cheeks. Anikka’s heart clenched.

Jace snapped his fingers and pointed to a spot directly in front of him.

She almost scoffed. Seriously? Like three hungry teenage boys would obey that kind of dog-trainer signal?

And yet… they moved. Cautious. Shoulder to shoulder. Their steps were hesitant, but they came forward. Right to the spot Jace had indicated.

They stopped a few feet in front of him, their bodies stiff, eyes wary. Anikka could see their ribs through their shirts. They reeked of desperation and dirt and lingering fear.

She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Jace’s voice echoed inside her head.

“I know.”

She jolted and nearly punched him in the kidney.

“Stop doing that!” she snapped silently.

“Then stop thinking so loud,” he shot back, without looking at her.

“Who is your Alpha?” Jace demanded aloud. “What pack are you from?”

The boys dropped their eyes, casting quick glances between them.

“We… don’t have one,” the middle one mumbled. “Not anymore.”

Jace’s jaw flexed. His voice dropped to a growl. “Explain.”

Anikka shifted uneasily beside him. Her instincts begged her to speak, to soften this. “Jace—” she started in a whisper.

He lifted a hand, cutting her off.

He didn’t even glance her way.

She froze, biting her lip. It wasn’t what he did—it was how he did it. That raised hand wasn’t dismissive. It was loaded with the weight of someone who carried too much already. And maybe… didn’t know how to carry it all without shutting people out.

She looked at him again.

Broad shoulders.

Unshakable presence.

And yeah… annoyingly attractive.

His head turned, eyes locking with hers—and she knew . He’d heard that entire mental assessment. She pressed her lips together to hold in a laugh.

Fine. Message received.

But she wasn’t going to hide behind him like she had with her uncle. She wasn’t that woman anymore.

She stepped out of the shadow of his body and moved to stand beside him. Tall. Proud. Even if she was still in those stupid shoes and the itchy dress that made her want to scream.

Jace didn’t stop her. Didn’t say a word.

But his posture shifted. He stood just a little taller.

And beside him, Anikka watched the boys. Teenagers, yeah, but there was something… other. Something she could almost smell . Like they were half-wild. Raw instinct and adrenaline and fear rolled into twitchy limbs and hollow stomachs.

Was that what she was?

“I’m a good cook,” she blurted out.

Jace stiffened at her side.

“I make the best blueberry cobbler you’ve ever tasted.”

The boys’ eyes snapped to her. One took a step forward, just slightly.

Jace sighed, long and slow.

“You’ll get cobbler,” he told them, his voice rough. “When I’m satisfied none of you are a threat to my pack.”

The boys hesitated, their eyes darting between each other.

Then, as if silently agreeing, they bowed their heads in unison.

Anikka sucked in a breath.

She’d seen that gesture before—dozens of times. Her uncle’s guards bowed exactly like that. But those men had carried arrogance in their bones. These boys... they bowed with submission, not showmanship.

“We won’t harm your pack, Alpha,” the middle one said, voice low but steady. “We played a stupid prank and... our Alpha kicked us out because of it.”

All three trembled slightly, as if afraid even speaking would get them punished again.

“Which pack?” Jace’s voice dropped an octave.

The boy on the left scuffed his worn sneaker against the cracked asphalt. “Gufta pack, Alpha.”

Jace’s expression didn’t shift. Not a blink. “What was the prank?”

The boys hunched, shrinking inward. Shame rolled off them in thick waves. It wasn’t guilt over hurting someone—it was embarrassment.

Anikka could feel that difference. No blood had been spilled. No bones broken. But someone’s pride? Definitely bruised.

“We were sick of being bullied,” the boy on the right blurted. His voice cracked. Neither of the other boys contradicted him.

“It was the Alpha’s son, sir. He... wouldn’t leave us alone.”

Jace’s gaze sharpened, flicking between their faces. “What did you do?” Each word hit like a hammer.

The middle boy swallowed hard. “We… hid alarm clocks all over his bedroom. They went off every five minutes all night long. He couldn’t find them.”

Anikka bit the inside of her cheek. Don’t laugh. Do not laugh.

It was a harmless prank. Honestly, it was kind of clever.

Banishing three teenage boys over something like that? That was cruel.

“Apparently, Gustov doesn’t like his precious little boy being woken up,” Jace muttered, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “I’ll speak with him.”

His tone shifted slightly—less steel, more bone-deep weariness.

“In the meantime,” he said, “you’re coming with me. We’ll get you food. Baths. Clean clothes. You’ll sleep in the barracks. Tomorrow, we figure out next steps.”

Relief poured off the boys like steam from hot asphalt. Their postures relaxed, not fully, but just enough.

Anikka stepped closer to Jace. Not to touch him. Just… to be near.

Her shoulder brushed against his arm, barely a whisper of contact, but it grounded her. She didn’t know why she needed that connection—but she did. And she didn’t pull away.

“Thank you, Alpha,” the boys whispered, heads still bowed.

Jace gave a clipped nod. “Come with me.”

He turned and placed his hand lightly at Anikka’s back.

She leaned into the touch without thinking. Just for a second.

The boys moved toward the SUV parked nearby, but before they reached the door, Jace barked, “Wait.”

They froze.

Three pairs of eyes flicked toward Anikka.

Confused, she looked at them, then at Jace—who was standing beside the open passenger door.

She frowned, unsure.

“They’ll wait to get into the vehicle,” Jace said. “Until you’re settled.”

What?

Yes, he answered in her mind, voice smooth and firm. Seriously. It’s important they show you the respect you’re owed.

She didn’t snap at the mental intrusion this time. Instead, she ducked into the seat, tugging her wrinkled dress into place.