“It’s perfect.” Nero held the diamond engagement ring up to the sunlight streaming through his workshop window.
Each tiny facet sent tiny rainbows across the workbench.
He’d spent countless hours crafting this particular piece, making sure every detail was flawless.
The central diamond, flanked by smaller stones in a vintage-inspired setting, nestled perfectly in the midnight blue velvet box.
Now all he had to do was drive to the wedding expo at The Catherine Hotel over in Bear Bluff so that Finn’s old school friend Pete could get down on one knee and propose to his mate.
If only we were getting down on one knee and proposing to our mate, his bear rumbled wistfully.
One day, Nero promised. But not today.
A quick glance at the clock made him curse under his breath. He had lost track of time once more and was now on the verge of being late. He closed the box with a snap, then gently placed it in the breast pocket of his waistcoat, giving it a reassuring pat to make sure it was secure.
His phone buzzed on the worktable. Finn’s message lit up the screen: All set. Meet me at stall 1.
“At least that’ll be easy to find,” Nero muttered, grabbing his suit jacket from the hook by the door. He fished his keys from his pocket, locked his studio, and headed for his car.
The convertible gleamed in the afternoon sun, its restored cherry-red paint job as immaculate as the day he’d finished it.
Unlike his brothers, who preferred their rugged trucks, Nero loved the elegant lines of his classic car.
He’d rescued it from an abandoned barn three years ago, painstakingly bringing it back to life, much like he did with his jewelry restorations.
He was a man who found equal satisfaction in creating the new and preserving the old.
Sliding behind the wheel, he started the engine, smiling at its smooth purr. With the weather so fine, he lowered the convertible’s roof and drove away from The Lookout, his home nestled in a small, wooded valley overlooking Bear Creek.
There was nothing like the rush of wind through his hair as he navigated the winding roads, skirting around Bear Creek and heading toward Bear Bluff. The massive rocky outcrop that gave the town its name loomed in the distance, catching the morning sunlight.
Remember when we used to race from the vineyard to the bluff? his bear asked, suddenly filled with nostalgia.
How could I forget? Nero replied as he recalled the fierce competitiveness his brothers had shared in their younger days. But now they had all mellowed.
Well, most of them had mellowed. Stanley could still turn anything into a competition if given half a chance.
His bear chuckled. We should race again one day. For old times’ sake.
We should, Nero agreed. But Kris, Philip, and Alfie have other priorities.
Mates, his bear said wistfully. We cannot fault them for that.
No, Nero agreed. They have been lucky in love.
Maybe some of that luck might brush off on us, his bear said as the road dipped down out of the mountains.
What we need is one of Finn’s matchmaking mix-ups. Nero slowed as the road split into two, and he took the right turn toward Bear Bluff.
That is exactly what we need, his bear said. But they both knew there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to Finn’s matchmaking mix-ups. They happened when they happened, and Finn had as much control over it as the weather.
At least today we get to witness Pete proposing to his mate, Nero’s bear said.
We do, Nero said.
But as they neared the hotel, a strange prickling sensation crawled up the back of his neck, and his stomach lurched uncomfortably. Was this a sense of foreboding that the proposal might go wrong?
No, it just means you should have eaten breakfast, his bear chided.
I’ll grab something after we deliver the ring, Nero promised, realizing all he’d consumed today was two cups of coffee. He’d been too focused on perfecting the final details of the commission to notice his hunger pangs.
Normally, he would have had the ring ready in plenty of time, but this had been a rush order. Pete, a photographer, had met his mate at another wedding expo two weeks ago and wanted to propose at this one. He saw it as a symbolic romantic gesture.
Nero shuddered at the thought. A public proposal wasn’t Nero’s style.
Not at all, his bear rumbled in agreement. A proposal should be private, intimate… But they respected that everyone had their own preferences. That variety kept his job as a jeweler interesting. If everyone wanted the same thing, he’d go crazy. It would stifle his creativity.
He sucked in a breath as he pulled into The Catherine Hotel’s parking lot, and the uneasy feeling intensified. A fresh wave of… well, he could not put his finger on exactly how he felt. Not unease. Maybe anxiety.
Yes, that was probably it. He’d never been present when one of his rings was offered as a token of love, of commitment.
What if Pete presented the ring to his beloved, and she didn’t like it?
Not going to happen, his bear said. Even though he shared Nero’s sense of unease.
For a long moment, Nero sat with his hands still on the wheel, trying to steady himself. But he did not have the luxury of time, so he opened the car door and forced himself to get out.
You’re right. I just need some food, he muttered, although he wasn’t a hundred percent convinced that was the truth.
But he couldn’t let Pete down. This was important.
This was about love. The same kind of love he’d witnessed every day of his life growing up with shifter mates as parents. The same kind of love he now saw between his brothers and cousins, who had recently found their own mates.
Nero knew this was one of the most important days in Pete’s life.
He was about to create a memory that would last forever.
Setting the tone for his relationship, for his future life, with the woman he loved.
If the proposal went wrong, it would cast a shadow over everything, the engagement, the wedding, and maybe even their marriage.
Woah, hold on there, his bear rumbled. I think you’re overreacting a bit.
Nero took a deep breath. His bear was right. This spiral of anxiety was unusual for him. He was typically the steady one among his brothers, the craftsman who approached life with the same precision he applied to his jewelry.
But nothing about today felt usual.
He patted his breast pocket once more, feeling the reassuring shape of the ring box.
Then he headed toward the hotel entrance, his footsteps strangely heavy.
Each step felt like trudging through treacle, yet something pulled him forward, like an invisible force drawing him in.
The sensation reminded him of vertigo, that disorienting pull toward the edge when standing on a precipice.
Inside the hotel’s smart lobby, Nero paused to get his bearings.
A sign with a flowing script directed guests to the Wedding Expo in the Grand Ballroom.
Nero had been here many times before. The space was impressive, with high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the immaculate hotel gardens, with the mountains in the distance.
Hell, the happy couple might even have their reception here after the proposal.
“Okay,” Nero whispered to himself. “Find stall one, hand over the ring, then find something to eat before I pass out.”
He wove through clusters of people in the reception area, brides-to-be with their fiancés, or moms and other family members, vendors carrying samples, and hotel staff directing traffic.
The double doors to the expo stood open, revealing a bustling scene of white and silver decorations, colorful flower arrangements, and the low hum of excited conversation.
As Nero stepped inside, the room seemed to spin around him. He took a few faltering steps forward, blinking to clear his vision. There, stall number one stood directly ahead.
Nero glanced around, but he couldn’t see Finn. And for some reason, he couldn’t sense him, either. It was as if something was jamming his shifter senses.
Just hand over the ring, his bear said. Then we’ll go find Finn and grab a bite to eat.
But before he handed over the ring, Nero couldn’t resist one last look at his creation. Pausing a few feet from the stall, he opened the box, admiring how the ballroom lights caught the diamond’s facets.
Mesmerized, he stepped forward. But his foot caught on something, a loose carpet edge perhaps…
Or your own foot, his bear said.
Whatever it was, all Nero knew was that suddenly, he was falling. Pain shot through his legs as he landed on his knees, but he kept a firm hold of the ring.
Can this day get any worse? Nero attempted to get up but only managed to get one foot under him. As he sucked in a breath, he was aware of people gathering around him, their faces a blur. Their voices jumbled.
Nero looked around, just as the crowd parted, and there she was, standing in front of him.
His mate. The love of his life.
Of course! his bear said. That’s why we had that funky feeling.
Nero shook his head, trying to clear the fog as the realization dawned on him. I... He tried to speak, but no words came out.
“Nero,” Finn was at his side, his hand under Nero’s elbow as he helped him to his feet. “What are you doing?”
Nero couldn’t tear his gaze from his mate as he said, “I was...the ring.”
The thought struck him like a freight train. He was supposed to hand over the ring so another man could propose to his mate.
It was as if the air had left his lungs. He turned a dazed expression on Finn.
“Is this your mystery man, Sophie?” a voice called out.
“Did you know he was going to propose?” asked another.
“It’s all a misunderstanding,” Finn was saying as he tried to calm the situation.
“No, it’s not,” Nero murmured.
“Oh yes, it is,” his mate was saying, her face like thunder over the mountains.
“This way,” Finn said, guiding Nero away from the growing crowd. People were pressing in, phones raised to capture what they thought was a romantic moment. Nero felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the scent of her, by her presence that called to his very core.
“Finn, you don’t understand,” Nero whispered urgently as his brother steered him toward a service corridor. “That’s her. My mate.”
“I got that,” Finn hissed back. “But that is Sophie Truro.”
“Who?” Nero asked.
Our mate, his bear said happily, but totally unhelpfully.
“Sophie Truro,” Finn repeated, his eyes narrowed. “She’s a chef… You know, the social media chef. Eat it simple with Sophie .”
Nero shook his head.
“Have you been living under a rock?” Finn asked.
Yes, his bear answered. A precious one—to make an engagement ring.
“So, she’s not about to get engaged?” Nero said with relief.
“No,” Finn said in exasperation. “You were supposed to take the ring to stall number twelve.”
“But you said to take the ring to stall number one.” Nero yanked his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen. After scrolling through his messages, he turned the screen to Finn. “See?”
Finn’s face paled. He shook his head. “I don’t know how…”
As his voice trailed off, Nero shook his head. “Oh. My. Goodness.”
“Don’t say it!” Finn held up his hands and backed away.
“You did it!” Nero’s voice rose as he chuckled. “You made another matchmaking mix-up.”
“I did not ,” Finn insisted, looking around.
“You missed the two off the end of the message and sent me to stall number one. Where my mate was waiting for me,” Nero said. It seemed too far-fetched, too incredible. But the truth was there in the text.
“Just give me the ring and I’ll take it to Pete.” Finn held out his hand for the ring. It trembled slightly as Nero handed over the box. “Let’s just keep the…rest…you know, the text…between you and me.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want,” Nero said, even though he wanted to shout from the rooftops.
“It is,” Finn said, and turned on his heel and marched off.
Nero watched him go and then leaned back against the wall, his head down as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.
We found our mate, his bear reminded him.
Nero shook his head and then laughed, a sound of pure wonder escaping his lips. He had actually met his mate. After watching three of his brothers find their perfect matches, fate had finally led him to his own.
But his celebration was short-lived.
He sensed her before he saw her, his bear suddenly alert and wary.
When he looked up, Sophie Truro was striding toward him, her curvy body rigid with anger. Her dark eyes flashed dangerously, and her full lips—lips he longed to kiss—pressed into a thin line.
She does not look happy, his bear said.
She does not. Nero straightened immediately, suddenly aware of how that must have looked to her.
The man who had caused such a chaotic scene was laughing in the corridor.
She’ll think it was a set-up, his bear said. She’ll think we did it on purpose.
Nero opened his mouth, wanting to explain, wanting to tell her why he’d been so distracted. That the last thing he would ever want to do was hurt her or make a fool of her. But no words came.
“So you thought that was funny?” Her voice cut through the air between them and sliced into his soul. “What was it, some publicity stunt? Did you get enough footage for your social media followers?”
“No,” he insisted, holding up his hands. “It was an accident. I was supposed to take that ring to stall twelve, not one.”
No, it was fate, his bear reminded him with absolute certainty.
Sophie crossed her arms, skepticism evident in every line of her body. “You know what I think?” she asked, her voice deceptively calm. “I think Tito Alvarez paid you to do this. Paid you to humiliate me in public.”
Nero felt as if he’d been slapped. “No,” he said, shaking his head emphatically, all humor vanishing instantly. “I would never…could never do that to you.”
The raw sincerity in his voice seemed to surprise her. She took a step back, her face paling as understanding dawned. “So, you’re one of those!”
Nero reeled at the anger in her voice. “One of what?”
I don’t think we want to know, his bear moaned. This was not how either of them had expected their first encounter with their mate to go.
Instead of answering, she spun around, her hair whipping through the air. “Stay away from me,” she threw over her shoulder, already walking away.
But how could he do that when she was his fate, his future?