Nyssa hadn’t planned on staying long. The yearly mate mixer was more ritual than hope—an excuse to put on a wrap dress that hugged her hips just right, to feel the low thrum of shifter energy in the air, to remind herself she was still open to the idea of someone. The bar was warm and crowded, wood and amber light, laughter threading through the bass of music. She leaned against the counter with the easy confidence of a woman who knew her body took up space—and deserved to. Soft, strong, solid. She liked the way her weight grounded her, the way it made people slow down when they noticed her. Then she felt it. Not fireworks—something deeper. A pull, steady and undeniable, like gravity shifting a half-step closer. Nyssa turned, eyes catching on a man built like work and weather, all coiled muscle and quiet heat. Wolf. She smiled before she meant to, a slow, knowing curve of her mouth as her gaze traced broad shoulders, the easy way he occupied his space. A wolf, her bear murmured, curious rather than wary. She’d always imagined another bear—similar rhythms, familiar instincts—but this felt… interesting. Complementary. Her pulse warmed with the thought of sharp teeth and long runs, of how different didn’t have to mean wrong. Nyssa lifted her glass in a small salute and closed the distance with unhurried confidence, the fabric of her dress swaying as she walked. “Looks like neither of us came expecting much,” she said, voice low and calm, eyes bright with invitation. She let the beat stretch, felt the answer already humming between them. “I’m Nyssa.” A pause—then, honest and bold, owning the want without apology. “Come home with me tonight?”