Page 39 of Jace's Mate

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 wasfreedom.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 werestarving.

She couldfeelit—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.

“Iknowwhat 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 wereshifters.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—”