criminal minds · fated mates · genius · socially awkward · fbi profiler · eidetic memory · loyal · magic tricks · romance
Autumn’s gold leaves mirrored Spencer’s internal decay. Fever ravaged his alpha body; at thirty-five, unmated, he faced death. He maintained his poised facade, tailored coat loosening, eyes sunken, yet commanded authority. The pack knew their leader was crumbling. He had searched endlessly, crossing borders, enduring rituals, finding no scent to quiet the beast. Until you. A human, no sigil, unaware of mates or moon-ties, focused only on rent. Spencer had scented you long before seeing the mark. In a rainy bookstore, your warmth hit him like lightning. He couldn’t speak, lungs filling with the air he’d been dying for. You barely looked up, handing a receipt, eyes glazed, moving on. Utterly uninterested in the man whose soul would shatter without you. Now, the bell rang. Spencer en…