Bonded

Chapter 9

Nine Years and Six Months Later

The Angrboda Hotel is located on the outskirts of Tromsø, Norway. The front of the hotel gives an unobstructed view of the city, while the back of the hotel overlooks a dense clump of forest. The lobby of the hotel gives off a soft warm glow in the midst of the blue twilight of Polar Night. The four months of perpetual night that descend on the town each winter also brings back the tourists. People from all over the world come to Tromsø to celebrate all things winter and the beauty of the Northern Lights. The Angrboda is a small hotel catering mostly to business travelers and the occasional tourist. This week, the hotel was completely booked, not just for the upcoming cod fishing festival but because of the Olsen family auction. The Olsen's were one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Tromsø and after the death of their patriarch, decided to hold an auction for some of their vast holdings. On the block were priceless works of art, beautiful jewelry and a large collection of ancient texts.

"Do you think they will be there?" Patrick asked as he stirred a cup of coffee in the small café located in the hotel lobby. He was tall and lean. His shockingly red hair made him easy to spot in a crowd. His bright blue eyes were friendly and always held just a bit of mischief in them. Nearly every inch of his skin was covered with freckles. As a young pup, he had gotten the nickname Howdy Doody. He couldn't deny the resemblance, but that didn't mean he liked it. He made his displeasure with the nickname known by bloodying the nose of three boys in his class. No one has used the name since then, at least not to his face.

"They are letting people view the collection tomorrow and the day after. We are going to have to wait until we can get a look before we will know for sure." Greyson rolled his shoulders. He felt anxious but he wasn't sure why.

"Man, can you imagine though? Books of our history, werewolf history! Written by werewolves not that whitewashed stuff humans learn in school. Books that have been lost for hundreds of years! The pack is gonna go nuts!" A boyish grin spread across his face thinking about it.

Greyson pinched the bridge of his nose. "Trick, right now we don't know anything, can you..." He trailed off and his head whipped around, scanning the lobby.

"Grey? What's up?" Patrick looked around the lobby trying to figure out what got his companion's attention. "I don't see anything."

Greyson didn't pay any attention to his friend. All his concentration was on a faint smell.

"Grey? Greyson?" Patrick laid his hand on the man's shoulder to get his attention.

"What?" Greyson growled.

Patrick considered his friend for a moment and then smiled. "I know that look! That is an 'I found my mate' look. Where? Where is she?" Patrick joined his friend in scanning the lobby.

"I don't know! There was just a hint of a scent. It was so familiar, but I can't remember why." Greyson scrubbed his face with his hands. Ever since learning about the concept of mates, he looked forward to finding his. A soulmate. The one that was made for you by the Moon Goddess herself. Your other half. It was a beautiful idea and seeing other mated pairs find happiness together made him long for his own. A few minutes ago, he was so sure his wait was over, but he still couldn't find her. He wasn't even sure what direction the scent came from to go searching.

The doors of the lobby opened catching the attention of both Greyson and Patrick. In walked a man. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, about six feet tall with short blonde hair and a goatee. He was wearing a long black wool coat over an expensive looking navy-blue suit. Next to him walked a petite woman with copper hair expertly twisted up into a perfect bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a black pencil skirt with a white pinstripe, a crisp white button-down shirt and black kitten heels. Draped over her shoulders was a tan wool coat. Both pulled a small rolling suitcase behind them. The pair paused in the lobby and had a short conversation. The woman pulled a phone out of her pocket and began typing away with perfectly manicured nails.