I walked out of the room and headed for the nearest stairwell. If he had only taken elevators, it would be impossible to track him to his floor and I would have to check them one by one. Still, as I determined that he wasn't in one stairwell after the next, my steps growing faster and more agitated all the while, I wondered whether it would have been more efficient to just pick a floor at random and start there.

The sixth stairwell I checked had his scent in it, though, and any doubts – or any sense of rationality at all – flew from my mind. Since I had started out on the second floor, up was a safe bet. I jogged up the staircase until I reached the fourth floor and the scent trail led to the door instead of up another set of stairs. My heart was pounding hard enough that I could hear its beat and feel my pulse throbbing in my fingertips. Whether that was from the exercise or from tracking Owen, I couldn't have said. All I knew was that I needed to turn left.

My steps didn't falter all down the hallway and my feet ground me to a halt outside of a door on the right side. I would have preferred to take a moment to collect myself and to catch my breath, but instead I watched with a detached curiosity as my own hand reached up and knocked on the door. Footsteps approached from the other side and I realized for the first time that Owen might not be alone. He had come to town with friends, after all. Someone had driven him away from that arcade tonight.

And even if Owen was alone, would he want to see me? I was sure he knew even now that I was the one on the other side of the door. Why wasn't it open yet?

The door flung open and a brunet man stood on the other side – someone other than Owen. I looked behind him and saw that Owen was on one of the beds, pinned down by a third man whose face was blotchy red with the effort it took to hold Owen down.

My feet were rooted in place. I didn't know what to make of the scene before me, so I was hesitant to move forward, but no way could I turn back now, either. I looked up at the man who had opened the door, who looked like he was braced for a physical confrontation too. I realized he was waiting for me to lose control of myself. He had no way of knowing how easy it was to be here with Owen now that I wasn't fighting the pull. Oh, it wasn't easy to stand here in the same room as him, motionless, but neutrality was worlds away from what it had been like to fight against his draw.

"I'm okay," I assured the brunet.

He looked doubtful, and when I took a cautious step into the room, he stuck out an arm to stop me. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

My stomach sank and I realized it was possible I had messed this up before it could begin. Maybe Owen had been put off by my indecisiveness. I couldn't blame him if that was the case, but even thinking of it made my stomach cramp with unease. "I'm here to see Owen." What else could I be there for?

"He told us about you," the man replied. "You had people forcibly remove you from him. Why show up now, when Owen isn't prepared to control himself? Have you thought of him at all in this?"

I wanted to sink into the floor and never be seen again. How could a stranger make me feel so small? And shouldn't I be having this conversation with Owen, rather than this stranger? I darted another glance at Owen, where he still struggled on the bed. The fact that he was being held down only seemed to agitate him further. "Should I go?"

The man glanced at Owen and seemed completely baffled by the situation he found himself in. "That might be best."

"No!" Owen said, and he fought the man holding him down even harder, bucking and grappling until with a great upward twist, he tore away from his opponent and darted off the bed. He almost made it to me before his friend recovered and tackled him from behind. His two friends were able to wrangle him so that he stood shackled by one and held back by the other, staring at me and breathing hard. His eyes were flashing amber and I knew he was all but lost to his instincts.

"Get a grip, man!" growled the burlier friend.

"Don't go," Owen said, his eyes boring into mine. I knew the only way to get him to calm down was to bring him to my level – one of acceptance and security. He needed to stop fighting his instincts or they would only take him over more.

I took a cautious step forward and extended a hand, placing my trembling fingers on his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere," I assured him, and hoped that my expression conveyed just how serious I was about that.

Owen continued to watch me until his eyes were back to their normal deep brown. He stopped fighting against his friends and leaned into my touch, still breathing heavily. The brunet stepped back from him, though the burlier friend kept hold of Owen's wrists even when Owen looked back at him and said, "I'm okay now, Brian."

Owen sent a pleading look to his brunet friend and said, "C'mon, get this animal off of me."

"Are you sure?" the brunet asked.

I understood his caution and wished I hadn't made things so complicated – if we had just finished what we'd started the night we met, there would have been no need for any of this.

"Yes." Owen was getting agitated again.

Was he going to lose control again before we were able to talk? I couldn't let that happen. We were on borrowed time here and there were some things I needed to say while I still could. "Please let him go," I said. "It's okay."

Owen was released, though I could see that he was straining against himself. I wasn't going to be able to stand here for much longer, either. "Are you all sharing this room?" I asked.

"No, this one is mine. Do you guys mind?"

With wide eyes and hurried steps, his friends headed for the door. The brunet, eyes still doubtful, paused to jauntily salute us before he darted out, shutting the door firmly behind himself. Then, for the first time, Owen and I were alone.

I expected him to jump right into things, but instead he said, "Are you sure about this, Penny? I know I'm not what you were looking for."

My heart lurched. How was I supposed to respond to that? It was both true and untrue, just as Charlotte said. But I couldn't let him feel like a consolation prize. I couldn't bear the thought of starting off our relationship like that. "I'm sorry about all that," I said. "I was like a little girl looking for fairytales. I was being stubborn and all it did was complicate things."

"But I'm not your soulmate, Penny," Owen said, watching me carefully. "Is it a fairytale when there's a possibility you'll find it?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter." How could I convince him of that, when I had barely convinced myself?

"It mattered to you earlier tonight," Owen said. I could see that he was getting agitated and knew that I didn't have long left to convince him.

"I couldn't get you out of my head today, and I've realized that I don't really want to.  You're worth more than the dream I was chasing."

That, it seemed, was enough. Owen closed the space between us in a hurry, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in so that our bodies were pressed against each other from legs to chest. His hands found my waist and started tugging my shirt up even as he bent down to kiss me hard. I responded automatically, hooking my thumbs into the waistline of his jeans and trying to pull him closer still. There was no room left between us and I finally felt all of my inner conflict completely dissolve. I broke the kiss so I could stare up at him and he took the opportunity to finish pulling off my shirt.

My hands felt empty and cold until I put them back on his skin, feeling up his back as I pushed his own shirt higher. Once he had ripped it off, I pressed my hands to his abdomen, which felt wonderfully hard under my fingers. Owen smirked and I knew he was enjoying my responses to him. In retaliation, I unhooked my bra and slipped it off. Let him be the gawker.

Only it didn't work that way. Instead, that prompted him to scoop me up and carry me to the bed. He dropped me down and I was still bouncing when he lowered himself over me, propped up on hands and knees so he could look down at me with appreciative eyes. "We still have too many clothes," he pointed out. I laughed and helped him fix it.

--

Later, I felt my way down the raw, tingling bond between me and Owen while he lay next to me, exhausted. The right side of his mouth quirked upward in a smile. "I can feel that," he said.

I backed off immediately, blushing, but Owen just laughed and gave the bond a light tug from his end.

"It's nice to be near you and have control over myself," I said.

He laughed again and pulled me closer against him. "If I weren't so tired, I'm not so sure I'd have control yet. We'll see how long it takes before things start feeling normal."

Normal, I mused. I wasn't even sure what that meant anymore. "I'm American, you know," I said.

Owen blinked in surprise before laughing again. Did he normally laugh so much? I kind of hoped so. That laughter helped smooth the awkwardness that was trying to creep up within me. "Me too," he said.

I balked. "What are you doing in Canada?"

"Same as you, I imagine. My friends and I take a road trip for the first couple of weeks of the year, every year. It's tradition. Only... there are only two of us left unmated now." He looked a little sad as he said this.

"You can still road trip with them next year, you know. Whether or not they're still looking for their mates." I said nothing about whether he could continue to travel with them now since I really had no idea what was going to happen.

Owen kissed my cheek. "Thanks. We'll see how things play out, I guess. Where in America are you from?"

"Montana. You?"

"Spokane, Washington."

I disentangled myself and stretched out my arms and back before going to the edge of the bed and reaching down for my jeans where they'd fallen on the floor. I pulled my phone out from the back pocket and let them drop again. After cozying myself back under the blankets with Owen, I pulled up the Maps app and typed in my address. I set it to route and handed the phone to Owen. "I want to see how far apart we live," I said.

He obliged, typing in his address and hitting "Route."

Three hours and fifteen minutes. I couldn't help laughing. "I can't believe how well that worked out. We won't need to be very far from either of our families." I could handle a three-hour separation, I thought. It was far better than the drive would have been if Owen had been from around here.

Owen winced. "I live with Logan and his family. My parents died a couple years back and I have no one else. I love Logan's family, but they'll understand if we stay closer to blood. We should live in Montana."

I was torn between elation and sorrow. The sadness in Owen's eyes eclipsed my joy and I clutched myself tightly against him, nuzzling my face against his neck. "I am so sorry that happened to you," I said.

His fingers stroked through my hair and I sighed, relaxing against him. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I don't want to be sad tonight. I wish you could have met them, though."

"Me too," I said around the lump in my throat. Against my best effort, the tears in my eyes spilled over, running down his neck and onto the bed below us.

"Ssh, no tears," he said.

But the future as I had envisioned it had been crumbling since I had met him, and this was just another blow. I wouldn't ever have my soul mate. I wouldn't have in-laws. My children would only have one set of grandparents. I was coping with those things as well as I could, but my heart broke for Owen being left without his family in a world where family was what mattered most. How had he gotten through the past two years? I was so glad for his friend Logan. "You have a family again," I said, still trying and failing to bury the sobs that so badly wanted to escape. I could feel my shoulders trembling and knew I was seconds from a meltdown.

Jasper always called me a bleeding heart. I had never thought of it as a bad thing before now, when I wanted so badly to be strong for Owen. He didn't want our first night together blighted with sadness, and I was completely unable to do that for him.

Owen stopped stroking through my hair so he could embrace me tightly with both arms. His head he ducked down to press against mine, and if I had ever felt so secure, I didn't remember it. He didn't say anything, and I was glad for it. I collected myself slowly, focusing on breathing and on the feeling of his heart beating under my chest.

When I thought the worst evidence of my crying jag was gone from my face, I sat up, blanket clutched around my chest, and finger-combed my hair back into some semblance of reason. A quick glance at the clock told me it was two in the morning. "I need to text my brother," I said.

Owen sat up and produced my phone, which had gotten tangled into the blankets around us. "Is that who you've been traveling with?"

"Yeah, and a friend of ours named Serena." It was the first time I had referred to her as a friend, but wasn't that what she was becoming? Besides, I didn't want to get into Charlotte's story yet.

I unlocked my phone and opened my texts with Jasper. "All good, see you in the morning. I'll properly introduce you guys to Owen over breakfast," I sent.

His response was immediate. "Love you."

I messaged back that I loved him too and put the phone down.

"How did he take it?" Owen asked.

I shrugged. "I didn't get much of a response, really. He knew I was coming to find you, so it's not a surprise."

Owen's brows lifted. "And he let you come alone?"

I pulled a face. "The alternative is seeing some things I know he really doesn't want to see. Besides, Jasper's the best brother in the world. He's always supportive and never gets in my way."

"That's really nice. I have to say, I'm relieved. He seemed like an overprotective jerk when I first met him."

"Only because I asked him to be," I said. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I've been an idiot."

"I don't think that," Owen said. He reached out and cupped a hand around my neck, pulling me gently toward him so our foreheads were pressed together and we were staring directly into each other's eyes. "Tell me, are you going to regret this?"

There was no accusation in his tone or eyes – just a simmering heat that was immediately mirrored within me. "No. I couldn't regret you," I said.

He closed what little distance was between us and delivered a kiss that had me pressing myself against him, ruing every place our skin didn't meet. I could feel that he was already ready for another round, and I giggled against his lips. Owen chuckled with me and gripped my hips for just a moment before he flipped us. I landed against the bed, legs wrapped around him, and let myself take a moment to study his well-toned chest and arms. He caught me looking and chuckled. "I'm all yours," he said.

"And I'm all yours," I replied. We smiled goofily at each other while heat raced through me, leaving my limbs feeling light and tingly. "What are you waiting for?" I asked. There was an edge to my voice I wasn't used to hearing. A desperate, insistent need was building in me and I didn't want to have to fight it, not after we did so much fighting against our bond.

Owen rolled his hips, pressing himself more thoroughly against me, and I moaned. "Please?" I said.

Then he was done stalling, too.