The air in the Kinsley packhouse was thick with the scent of impending celebration, a stark contrast to the undercurrent of tension that always seemed to follow John. He navigated the familiar halls, the low murmur of conversations and the occasional bark of a pup a constant backdrop to his thoughts.

Today, his task was mundane, yet unexpectedly significant: a florist appointment. He'd followed his GPS to 'Flowers of the Nile' in Eugene, the mundane task masking a deeper, more profound shift in his world. The jingle of the bell above the shop door announced his arrival, and a burst of floral scents assaulted his heightened senses. But beneath the roses and lilies, a new, intoxicating aroma cut through the sweetness—dark chocolate and strawberries.

His wolf, Irving, roared to life, a primal shout echoing in his mind: 'MATE!' John's heart hammered against his ribs, a mixture of disbelief and a desperate, long-buried hope. Could it be? Here, in a human flower shop? The very idea was both exhilarating and terrifying.