Chapter One

“I’m more than willing to fight for what I believe in. I believe in ice cream, and I happen to

know kung-fu. So, step away from the freezer before I bust out an ass kicking.” — Maya

O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who has a degree in ice cream flavors.

Nothing good ever happened when Maya was giddy. Harding knew that happy meant ice

cream. Then again, sad meant ice cream, too. Angry meant yells followed by very loud make up sex

with her mate, Alex…and ice cream.

But giddy? He shuddered. Giddy was bad. It accompanied…awesomesauce ideas.

Harding sighed. Unfortunately, it was his day to guard Maya. Since she was the pride’s Prima

and mated to their leader, the Prime, he had to follow her around. He had to keep her safe, of course,

but he couldn’t rein her in like Alex did.

“Haaarrrdddiiinnnggg!” She yelled his name in a mixture of a scream and a whine.

Great.

Pushing out of the club chair, he rose to his six-foot five-inch height, and followed her voice

through the pride house. His boots thumped against the tile in the hallway, his shoulders slumping

further with every step. Couldn’t it have been Neal’s day? Or Brute’s? Nah, those two were newly

mated and needed to be home with their families. The only two of Maya’s guards unmated were him

and Wyatt, and even Wyatt had a human woman for the moment.

It was only Harding who didn’t have much of a life.

Standing out of sight outside the kitchen, he took a deep breath and fought for patience. No

telling what was about to happen. Dreading the coming conversation, he stepped into the room—or

home-o-frozen-goodness—and found Maya sitting at the table, a carton of ice cream before her and

Alex at her side.

God, things just got worse.

Giddy with ice cream and the potential for wild make-up sex. Why did they need him?

“There you are!” A large smile curved Maya’s lips.

“Prima.” Maybe deference would get a little sympathy from Alex. A glance at the Prime

revealed that the lion wasn’t about to help him.

Damn it.

Even his inner-lion whimpered at what was to come. Was she rounding up a cavalry again to

save someone who didn’t need saving? That had been a fun trip. By the time the guards (including

their mates), and Maya and Alex (including their twins, Easton and Weston) had appeared, the fun had

been over. Deuce had been saved by his squirrel mate, and Alistair McCain, ex-leader of Freedom,

was dead. At the squirrel’s hand, er, gun. Maya had pouted.

Before that, she’d secretly rescued a sweet fox and also given birth. At the same time. On the

side of the highway.

And before that…

“Are you even listening?” A glob of ice cream smacked Harding in the face, cold and wet.

He gave Maya his attention while snaring a napkin and wiping his cheek. “No, but I will

now.”

Alex snorted.

Maya narrowed her eyes, glaring at him and then her mate. Now, Harding could just get yelled

at and sent on home, but Alex…

“Did you just laugh at the Keeper of the Vagina? Queen of Vaginaville and Ruler of all Things

Pink Bits Related?” Maya’s lips formed a thin, white line.

The Prime gulped. “Now, Maya…”

The Prima harrumphed and turned back to Harding. “So, the thing about it is…”

Nothing good ever came out of one of her sentences when she started it like that.

“I love you, Maya—” When Alex growled, Harding was quick to amend his statement. “As

much as a single lion is allowed to. But can’t you ‘thing about it is’ someone else? Maybe Wyatt?”

Harding enjoyed his nice, boring life. It didn’t involve many others, but that meant there were

fewer people who could turn on him. Because everyone did eventually. Maybe not today, but there

was always tomorrow. His last pride had taught him all about tomorrow.

Maya gestured at him with her dripping spoon. “Sit and listen before you get too whiny.”

He did as ordered, but grumbled just the same.

“Now, Neal, Brute, and Deuce have mated. That leaves you and Wyatt unattached. But he’s

got a human woman he’s been ‘dating.’” She made air quotes, chocolate dripping to the kitchen table.

“That leaves you.”

“Okay.” He nodded. It was the same thought he’d had before he walked in.

“Yay!” She clapped and turned to Alex. “See how easy that was? I told you I could get him to

agree!” Maya turned back to him. “Now, you need to pack. Probably for at least two weeks since

that’s how long it’ll take the movers to get you your stuff. We’ll box up what you need and send it

along. If you leave Maddy a list she’ll—”

She kept babbling on and on, his eyes growing wider by the word, until he’d finally had

enough. He put two fingers into his mouth and whistled high and long, snaring Maya’s attention and

stilling her words.

With her now silent, he looked to Alex. “What is she talking about?”

The Prime’s grin made him want to punch the lion in the face. He resisted the urge. Barely.

“The Council contacted me this morning—”

“Us.” Maya licked her spoon.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Us. And asked for one of our guards to go down to Georgia and relieve

Stone. He’s being promoted to Council Liaison, and they need someone trustworthy, someone not too

aggressive, but able to protect himself and his territory.”

Based on the Prime’s and Prima’s stares, he’d been elected.

“Define territory.” Stone, a gorilla shifter and Council tracker, had been in Georgia cleaning

up a few messes left over by Freedom. Harding hadn’t envied the man.

“A small compound in the mountains. It’s built into the mountain, actually.”

There was more. “Uh-huh. And?”

Maya slipped the spoon from her mouth. “And a few-ish women.”

Thud. That was the other concrete-filled shoe dropping.

“You want me to guard women. Women who were more than likely abused by shifter males

who are large and strong and dominant as hell.” Like him. Minus the massive streak of dominance, but

still. “Are you insane?” Alex growled, but Harding didn’t give a damn. “Look at me.” He gestured to

his face and then his arms. Stark white scars covered his skin, including one that ran from his hairline,

over his cheek, and then down along his neck. His uncle had enjoyed inflicting that one. “Do I look

like a guy that won’t scare them?”

Alex leveled a look on him, one that was filled with both seriousness and the full weight of

his power. “You look like a man who has gone to hell and fought his way back. Your scars show

proof of your strength, Harding. You’ve battled your way into the most respected pride’s inner-circle.

I trust you with my mate’s life. I trust you with my sons. I know you will protect those women with

your life, if necessary.”

Damn it.

* * *

Damn it.

Getting out of bed required preparation. It wasn’t a “toss aside blankets and rise” occasion

for Tess McCain. No, first she had to find her center, search for the tiny spark of life that she clung to

with all her strength. From there, she traced the small, growing tendrils of hope that still lingered.

The thick walls of her cell—room—kept the worst of the pain at bay while she slept. She

didn’t have to protect her mind when she wasn’t conscious. Within this space, instead of screams and

shouts invading her slumber, the words were mere whispers. Tess could handle whispers.

Closing her eyes, she sought out her mental bricks. They lay passive within her, squares of

imaginary padded steel. When she was younger, it’d been boulders, but they’d always toppled down.

Then concrete blocks, but they didn’t muffle the voices enough. Now, it was a metal wall, covered in

sound dampening padding. It was a mental trick, the voices not being real voices at all, but it helped.

At least for now. God help her if she grew stronger.

She stacked chunk after chunk of steel within her, the wall growing with each passing

heartbeat until it stretched higher than she could see and as wide as she could imagine. There. She

was ready for the day.

Tess rolled from the bed and padded to her small closet. There were more clothes now, more

than before. She shuddered. Before. She didn’t want to think about then. There was only today.

Sliding on one of the comfortable sundresses she’d been given, she slipped her feet into a pair

of sandals. She spent only minutes in the bathroom, quickly getting ready to leave her room, and then

she was out the door.

Mostly.

She paused in the doorway and gave herself a moment to make the transition from silence to a

muted roar. Thoughts from the compound’s inhabitants assaulted her. True, they were like tiny

pebbles being thrown against her mental mountain, but they existed nonetheless.

Instead of fighting them as she did in her youth, she let them swirl over and within her,

accepting their presence. Then the dull throb of their existence settled.

She stepped into the hall and turned left. The kitchen beckoned her, the scent of pancakes and

bacon leading her forward. Truly it was the bacon that drew her. Hell, any meat had her drooling. She

hated that part of herself, the hint of shifter that had been given to her while she was growing in her

mother’s womb.

Bastard.

Tess stopped and pressed a hand to her stomach, the voices pushing into her as if sensing her

wavering control. Thinking of Alistair McCain always did that to her. Only his presence disrupted

her more. But that wouldn’t be an issue any longer, would it? Another woman had done what Tess

could not.

Refocusing on her path, she was in the kitchen in moments. The compound’s new cook moved

easily at the stove. She almost snorted. New cook. All of the staff members in the compound were

new. The only remnants of Freedom that remained were Tess and four other women who’d been

rescued by the Council.

Rescued yet not released.

She understood their reasoning. The other four women had suffered through beatings and rape

for years, and they were still emotionally unable to venture past the front door. Tess had only endured

the beatings. The benefits of being Alistair’s self-proclaimed “daughter” meant sex was off the table.

She shuddered with the thought and pushed it aside.

She padded to the coffee maker and quickly poured herself a cup, desperate for a shot of

caffeine before she faced a crowded living room. Already the low hum of the women’s minds

reverberated within her.

“Hey, Tess.” The cook’s soothing voice caressed her. Ben was a giant of a man, an elephant

that was as gentle as he was large. “Pancakes? Or did Little Debbie and her wonderful world of

brownies already feed you?” He pointed a spatula at her. “Brownies are not breakfast food, Tess.”

Ah, Little Debbie, how do I love thee? Since her “rescue”, Stone had introduced her to a

plethora of snack foods, and they were amazing. They also added a crap-ton of pounds to her ass, but

whatever. She’d lived without them for twenty-six years and figured she deserved a little bit of

chocolate therapy.

Tess refused to blush at Ben’s words. Instead, she glared. “Brownies are really just smooshed

muffins. I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who eat muffins for breakfast and—”

“Tess?” Stone cut her off and she turned toward him, smiling wide when she caught sight of

the gorilla shifter. He’d been the first Council guard to arrive and clean house, protecting them as if

they were his own band of gorillas.

“What’s up?”

Stone squirmed, gaze traveling from Tess to Ben and back again. “Well…” He sighed and ran

a hand through his midnight hair. “The Council has given me a sort of promotion.”

“Awesome!” She was thrilled for him, but something lingered beneath his words, and a hint of

worry overrode the whispers in her mind. With his tension, her smile faltered. “It is, right?”

Stone snared a cup of coffee and slid onto the stool beside her. He cradled the steaming cup

between his hands, rubbing his palms along the heated ceramic.

It was tempting, oh so tempting, to lower the walls that kept her sane and allow his thoughts to

enter her mind. Conversations were so much easier when she knew what was to be said. Instead, she

waited Stone out, blowing on her coffee and allowing the silence to stretch between them. Ben

continued cooking, flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs while bacon sizzled in a frying pan.

Stone frowned into the mug, eyes intent on the brown liquid within. “It is. And it isn’t. You

ladies need…” He huffed. “I’m leaving.”

Tess rolled her eyes and ignored the bolt of fear that took up residence in her gut. “I assumed

you would.”

“Which means that I’ll be replaced.” More worry bordering on panic came from him. The man

was so caring when it came to the women in the house it bordered on nauseating.

Even Ben snorted at the obviousness of his statement.

“Yes, if you leave, I figured we’d get someone new to keep us under lock and key and

protected from the big, bad world.” Her tone was flippant, but she felt the same need for protection as

the rest of the women. They feared being brutalized. She feared…so much more. “When’s your

replacement showing up?”

More importantly who would get her pre-packaged goodness on a regular basis?

Ben nudged a plate of bacon (including a side of pancakes) her way with a wink and a fork

immediately followed. “You’re a God.”

Because, really, Little Debbie hadn’t delivered breakfast that morning. She’d finished off

“smooshed muffins” yesterday, and her stash was low. It’d become time for rationing.

She poured syrup onto the pancakes and then cut off a big bite, savoring the sweetness. She

gobbled piece after piece, ignoring Stone’s silence. Scenarios flitted through her mind, the thoughts

overriding any others from the compound’s occupants.

The man could be evil like the Freedom members, and who would protect them then? Stone

had been teaching them self-defense. Three of the survivors were Sensitives—women who had the

ability to soothe another’s beast, delve into their thoughts, and even influence someone’s behavior.

They had a nearby Sensitive stop by twice a week to work with those women, honing their skills and

training them control.

But not Tess. Tess was…different. She was human, yet not. She wasn’t a true shifter, yet she

had some of the powers of a Sensitive that only shifters could possess. And some powers that

weren’t. All in all, she was a commodity even rarer than a Sensitive. All of Freedom knew it, and the

Council was pretty sure there were ex- members still at large that wanted her.

Stone abandoned his coffee cup and scrubbed his face. “He’ll be here soon. I’m just worried

about how everyone will handle someone new. He’s a good man, but the other females are…”

He tilted his head to the side. Tess recognized the move as one many shifters employed.

Listening intently tended to involve a lot of head tilting and squinting. She tried very, very hard not to

laugh and tell the gorilla that he looked a lot like the puppy she’d always wanted when growing up.

But concrete compounds weren’t conducive to dogs. At least, that’s what her “father” had said.

“Apparently, soon is now.” The gorilla popped up from the stool and strode through the

doorway and toward the front entry by way of the living room.

A low ding announced the elevator’s arrival, the thing having traveled fifty feet from the

surface and through the ground to their level.

Unfortunately, she and Stone hadn’t been there when the doors slid open. Or when the

newcomer stepped off the elevator. Or even when he wandered further into the compound and came

upon the living room.

Tess took two steps into the living room and then met the stranger’s powerful gaze. That

simple connection quieted the voices invading her mind until there wasn’t even a whisper of emotion

battering her. It was gone. A look had banished Stone’s worry and the ladies’ terror from her

thoughts. Blissful silence blanketed her.

Well, at least until the stranger was slammed with the power of one of the resident Sensitives

and rendered unconscious. He fell to the ground, more than six feet and over two hundred pounds of

man and muscle crashing into the concrete, and the sound of his head striking the solid floor echoed in

the room.

Poor Amelia really needed to get a handle on her powers.

Tess settled into a nearby chair, sinking into the cushions and hugging a pillow to her chest as

four guards carried their new guy deeper into the compound. The moment he was out of eyesight, the

rush of voices returned, battering against her defenses. She wanted to follow the guards, bathe in the

relief of having the whispers disappear if only for a moment. Instead, she huddled deeper into her

seat, seeking the protection of a simple piece of furniture.

Even hidden in a corner, her presence sent the level of hostility in the room skyrocketing. It

grew and swirled around her. And it was all directed at her, of course.

Apparently her being beaten instead of raped on a daily basis angered the others. Or rather,

one of them. The animosity and rage punched her, the emotion throwing itself against her steel wall

and bouncing off, only to try again.

She shrugged away the emotions, shoved back the whispers, and focused on the women in the

room. Jackie was over in the other corner, glaring at her, a snarl on her lips. Tess turned away from

her. The rage was… She shuddered.

The two Mastin sisters were simply leaning against one another, eyes closed and bodies

tense. Those two… She didn’t even want to think about what they’d suffered.

Amelia, she of the unconscious visitor, was crying on Stone’s shoulder, openly sobbing out

her apologies. Ever since she’d regained her strength, she’d welcomed the powers that came with

being a Sensitive. She just hadn’t quite learned control.

Stone urged her into the seat and then moved to the center of the room. His presence

immediately quieting the others. All eyes turned to him, focusing on the gorilla shifter that had been

their primary protector for over a year.

“As you’ve seen, a new guard arrived today.” Grumbles met Stone’s statement, but he

continued. The man had talked through so much screaming and crying that he’d finally begun talking

over all interruptions. “I’ve been promoted and reassigned by the Council.”

Voices came tumbling over one another.

“No.”

“It’s not happening.”

“We don’t need someone else.”

“Take your shit and leave, monkey.” That was said with a sneer, pure rage on the speaker’s

features, and Tess had to bite her lip to keep quiet. Jackie was an all-around bitch and had been

talking crap from day one. Even now, after hours upon hours of therapy, she was as hateful as ever.

Stone brushed all of the comments aside, even managing to ignore Jackie’s “monkey” dig.

“Harding Grange comes to us from Ridgeville, North Carolina. He has been assigned as one of the

guards to the pride’s Prima. I’ve worked with him, and I’ve trained with him. You ladies won’t find a

better man to keep you safe while you heal.”

Some of the animosity drained from the room with his words. They all liked Stone, even if

Jackie dug at him a lot. He’d been there from the start. As Freedom members filed out, he rushed in,

ready to help them battle their demons. He’d been scratched, kicked, and punched by them all at some

point or another, their emotions overcoming sense when faced with a new male.

But he’d persevered.

“What if we don’t want someone else?” The voice was whisper soft, almost lower than the

voices in Tess’s head, but there was no mistaking the source. Maria Mastin.

Stone slowly stepped toward the sisters and carefully eased onto the coffee table. Of them all,

these two women were in the worst shape, still locked inside their own minds, barely surfacing to

speak to anyone.

“He’s a good man, Maria.”

The other sister, Lauren, shook her head. “No. He’s so scarred. He fights…”

How many brawls had they witnessed? How many nights did they wait to see who would

come to their bed, bloody and torn, yet victorious?

The scars were something Tess had noticed as well. In that split second their gazes had

clashed, she’d spied the web of white scars that decorated his face and arms. With their abundance,

she imagined there were more hidden beneath his clothing. They hadn’t appeared to be random either.

No, they looked to be carefully sculpted lines, smooth and thin, not jagged and uneven. Someone had

gone through a lot of trouble to ruin the man’s face.

He let his gaze travel over them all, landing on one woman for a heartbeat before moving on

to the next. “Those aren’t from fighting. He’s a survivor.”

No details were handed over, but the meaning was clear. Yes, Harding was a man covered in

scars, but those weren’t from challenges or fights. Just like the five of them, he’d survived.

* * *

Harding didn’t remember getting drunk. At all. Plus, it would have been hard considering he

was a lean, male shifter who burned off alcohol almost as quickly as he drank the stuff.

But fuck, his head hurt. The steady thump pulsed through him, overriding his other senses. It

felt as if a sledgehammer pounded on his skull, fighting to crack it in two.

God, had someone given him a main line of vodka?

He shifted and groaned. Then groaned again as the sound rattled around his brain. Even his

lion cowered in the back of his mind, whimpering and covering his face with his paws. The beast

wasn’t even pretending to try and help him.

Bastard.

His body ached from head to toe, every muscle tight and tense, the pain merely adding to the

pounding of his head.

Another shift, another bolt of agony, and then a gentle hand stroked his forehead. With that

first whisper-soft brush, the pain receded, easing from his arms and legs in a slow wave. Another

touch and it left his joints.

He sighed, relaxing into the plush surface beneath him. Stroke by stroke, the agony lowered to

a dull, pulsing throb.

Harding struggled against the last remnants of pain, fighting through the snippets that remained

and encircled his head.

“Easy.” An angel spoke to him. Lame, but true. Her voice was like a gentle tinkling of bells,

sweet and seductive at the same time. He grunted and tensed, fighting to open his eyes and look at the

woman soothing him. “No, you need to stay down. Millie is small but packs a punch.”

Millie. So he’d had his ass handed to him by a woman. Fuck, he didn’t remember that. He

retraced what’d happened to him since receiving his orders to get to Georgia. He’d packed (as

ordered), he’d gotten on a plane (as ordered), rented a car (as ordered), and the drive from the small,

private airport hadn’t been bad.

Then he remembered. Life went to hell the moment he’d entered the compound. He’d traveled

down through fifty feet of soil and rock. The mountain had been a good hiding place for Alistair.

Easily defensible and fairly close to town.

The elevator dinged and he’d taken a handful of steps into the compound. He remembered

getting a glimpse of a comfortable looking room filled with women. A couple looked at him with

stark fear, terror freezing their features, while one other simply snarled. Damaged or not, those were

expressions he was familiar with. He wasn’t exactly a guy that got smiles of welcome from women.

The heavy thump of booted feet on concrete drew his attention from the scowling ladies and

he turned to look at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. His lion even perked up in

interest, curious and urging him to go to her.

Stone had been at her side, but Harding had been too focused on the woman to care about his

friend. He needed to get closer. Touch her. Smell her. Wrap his body around her and protect her with

everything inside him.

His gaze had flicked back to Stone, and he had the sudden urge to throw the man across the

room and away from the woman. He took a step forward, intent on doing just that, but agony had

enveloped him. A fierce bolt of bone-crushing pain had wrapped around him from head to toe,

strangling him with its intensity. Then, thankfully, blessed darkness swept him away from the hurt.

Until now.

Harding pushed through the last remnants of pain and forced his lids to open, demanding that

his eyes obey his command. They fluttered wide, unfocused for a moment, and then they responded to

his order. As his vision cleared, he was met with a glimpse of heaven.

She was there. At his side. Sitting on the bed beside him. His lion perked up once again, paws

sliding from his face to peer at the woman in interest. The cat rose to its feet and padded closer, intent

on nudging Harding along. The cat didn’t have to push hard. Nope. Harding was as interested as his

beast.

Then she smiled. God help him, she smiled. The gesture illuminated her face, brightening her

features and beckoning him with her allure. Her hair sparkled in the room’s low light, strands

catching the dim rays and glittering. The deep red tresses looked like spun silk, and he couldn’t wait

to run his fingers through them. Freckles decorated her pert nose, dancing over the bridge and just

above the feathery sprinkling. Her emerald green eyes were intent on him. He didn’t bother pausing

his inventory. Her lips were plump and full, topping off her sweet, heart-shaped face.

The long line of her neck led to her shoulders and further south to her lush breasts. More than

a handful. He couldn’t see much more of her body, her sitting position blocking him from tracing her

waist and the flare of her hips with his gaze. She looked so damned fragile. But he sensed a hidden

strength in her. A faded scar on her throat called to him, and then he found another. And another. His

cat growled at the idea that she’d been harmed, but it also told him that she was like him in some

ways.

A survivor. Pain was easy. It was living that was hard.

Harding’s lungs burned, reminding him that he was holding his breath, and he relaxed,

inhaling deep. Then he froze.

Oh, God. Honey, sticky sweet honey, bathed his senses and called to his lion. The cat wanted

to lap up every drop of those flavors and then hunt up even more. His beast, typically content to lurk

at the back of Harding’s mind, rushed forward with a fierce roar and slammed into his mental walls.

It pushed, scratched, and bit at the internal confines and snarled his displeasure.

There was one reason, and one reason only, for the lion’s behavior.

Mate.

Fuck. Here, now, in a place meant to provide the woman a haven while she recovered from

her past, he’d found his mate. Another look into her eyes showed him the pain that lingered and the

unease caused by his intense scrutiny. He begged a little help from his cat and the lion leapt to his aid,

adding a hint of his shifter abilities to his human half. Another deep inhale gave him further clues

about her.

She was human, but not. Shifter, but not. Sensitive, but not.

She was all of the above and then some.

Most importantly, she was his.

Harding needed to be closer. Touching her. Feeling her skin beneath his palm. He shifted,

easing his hand closer to her bare leg, and moaned with the effort.

“Hey, stay still. It’s gonna hurt for a little longer, but now that you’re away from Millie, you’ll

heal better.” Those tinkling words soothed his cat.

“Wh—” He licked his dry lips. “What happened?” His voice was hoarse and scratchy. “Who

are you?”

A teasing smile spread across her lips with his first question, but her expression closed down

with the second. He saw the shutters descend and blanket her features as a cool mask replaced the

happiness he’d glimpsed.

“Amelia—Millie—doesn’t take surprises well, and Stone hadn’t given the others any warning

that you’d be arriving any minute.” She shook her head. “A local Sensitive has been working with her

on control, but now that she’s stronger, she tends to lash out at strange men. Disable first, ask

questions never.”

Harding nodded. Almost. At least until a shard of pain shot through his skull. “And you are?”

He wanted to say “his.” His mate. His life. His everything. He didn’t deserve her. Hell, she

didn’t deserve to be saddled with a man as damaged as him, but that didn’t matter to the cat.

Tension wracked her body, muscles vibrating beneath the surface of her skin. All he wanted to

do was reach out and soothe her, stroke her soft skin and tell her he’d fix whatever was wrong. But he

knew she’d bolt. Fear floated on the air, sliding into his nose, and his beast responded with a roar.

Their mate should never be afraid. Never. Not of him or anything else in the world.

The woman rose, stepping away from the bed, and his entire body burned to snatch her back to

him. As if sensing his intent, she skittered to the open door, lingering in the doorway. She moved into

the hall, no longer standing within the small, sparsely furnished room.

Her gaze met his for a moment, a fleeting look as she uttered two words that stilled his heart.

“Tess McCain.”

* * *

Tess decided that it didn’t matter that Harding was gorgeous. It didn’t matter that some part of

her demanded she remain in his presence. Nor did it matter that everything quieted when she stood

beside him.

Okay, that part mattered.

The voices, along with the stress of holding them at bay, eased when she was around him. The

reaction had been hinted at when she’d first glimpsed him, but it’d been confirmed when she padded

into his small room within the infirmary. The closer she got to him, the quieter things became. Then

everyone’s words disappeared when mere inches separated them.

What would it be like to touch him? Touch his bulging muscles, slide her fingers through the

pale blond strands and trace his lips with her fingers? She wanted to discover every scar that

decorated his body, learn the stories behind them, and pour out her soul into his care.

That idea was what scared her most. She craved to be bare, physically and emotionally, to

this man. Stone had said he was a lion, a massive cat even larger than the Prime of his pride, but he

had never felt the need to lead.

Harding Grange.

The name sent a shiver down her spine. Of fear? No, of something else she didn’t want to

identify. Something she hadn’t felt…ever.

With a shake of her head, she continued her journey, intent on returning to the kitchen to snag a

bite to eat. The morning’s fun had torn her from breakfast, and her stomach was grumbling in

response.

Through twists and turns she traveled, pushing thoughts of Harding further and further from her

mind with each step. As the distance between them grew, so did the rumbles of other voices. One by

one they ventured into her, the whispers growing and swirling inside her.

Tess wanted to return to Harding, risk the disgust that was sure to coat his features now that he

knew who she was. His scorn was nothing in the face of quiet.

Who was she kidding? She couldn’t deal with his hatred. She got enough from Jackie and

wasn’t sure how she’d react if he also felt that way.

Striding past the living room, she ignored the hate emanating from the space. Jackie’s loathing

was out in full force as she screeched at Stone about Harding.

“What the hell can a fucking pussy do for us? Send his ugly ass back!” It was the last few

words screamed by Jackie that broke Tess’s hard-won control. The rage swept over her, primal and

feral in its intensity.

Tess’s heartbeat sped to double-time, pumping blood and adrenaline through her body. She

sensed the anger, but an unfamiliar rage crept into her chest. The tendrils slithered through her and

filled her arms. Her hands ached, fingers throbbing and stretching as if something fought to burst

through the tips.

She flew across the room, shoving a placating Stone aside, and launched herself at the bitch.

Hands curved into human claws, she struck out, reaching for Jackie’s face. The first hit landed,

leaving four furrows of bleeding torn flesh in her wake. She swung with the other hand, ready to give

the woman a matching wound on the other cheek only to have Jackie duck out of the way.

“How dare you?” Rage filled Tess’s words.

Midnight hair slid from Jackie’s pores, bursting through her skin and coating her face, chest,

and arms in her animal’s fur. The crack and snap of bones overrode the screeches and screams of the

other women. With every heartbeat that passed, Jackie took on more of her beast, changing in the

middle of the living room. Tess knew she wouldn’t last long against her, but she wasn’t about to back

down either.

She tensed, ready to take on the woman, but never got the chance. Stone stepped between

them, easily catching Jackie and shoving the bitch back before her claws could even touch Tess. He

grunted and roared, releasing his gorilla’s warning and silencing everyone.

More of the change rolled through the other woman, and Tess’s body tried to respond. Her

gums ached, and fingers throbbed as if she truly held an inner beast that fought to burst free. Except

that’d never happen, but not for lack of trying.

Tess bared her teeth, snarling as she pushed against Stone’s restraining hand. Jackie growled

low until the gorilla gripped her arm, shaking her like a rag doll.

“Enough!” The deep baritone crowding his voice revealed that the man’s beast was near the

surface.

Jackie threw off Stone’s grip and stepped back, but not before hissing at Tess. “Fine. Stupid

bitch isn’t worth it. We all know that she’ll be put down like her daddy. Blood’ll run true, won’t it

Tess? Crazy bitch.”

Rage burned hotter than before, and she pushed against Stone, fighting to shove him aside so

she could get at the shifter woman. She wasn’t like that man. She wasn’t even his true daughter, not

really. She’d never be like Alistair. Never. It wouldn’t happen, couldn’t happen.

No, no, no, no…

“I said enough!” The roar shook the walls and the vibrations traveled through the ground.

Stone glared at Jackie one last time and then grabbed Tess, holding her by her bicep as he led

her from the room. Jackie’s hateful stare bored into her with every step until they turned the corner.

No words were spoken as they navigated the halls, but they weren’t necessary. She knew what was

happening, where they’d end up.

Before long, they were standing outside her room, her haven of sorts.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Tess.” Stone’s voice was back to normal, at least.

Tess sighed. “I know. She just… Harding isn’t…” How could she explain the unexplainable?

“Damn it.”

“Go ahead inside. You haven’t had breakfast, right?” She shook her head. “Okay, chill out.

I’ll have something sent to you while I go deal with Jackie and the rest of them.” Stone stared at her

door and she couldn’t help but read his thoughts.

I’m putting her back in a fucking prison. God damned prison.

She reached for him and gave him a gentle stroke of his forearm. “It’s okay, Stone. Them’s da

rules, right? We can scream and yell, but we can’t get physical.” That had been drummed into them by

therapists and guards alike.

Fists and claws wouldn’t fix them. Sometimes Tess wondered if anything ever would. Oh, the

others might get past the rapes and beatings, but could she ever get over her very existence? She

didn’t think so.

“Can you ask Ben if there are any pancakes left? Maybe some bacon?” She pushed a grin to

her lips, praying that he’d believe her forced smile. She didn’t want him to feel guilty about confining

her to her room.

“Nice try.” Stone rolled his eyes. Okay, he didn’t fall for it. “Go inside. I’ll smooth things

over and send someone back with breakfast.”

With that final promise, he retraced their path, moving along the hallway until he came to the

end. Before he made the turn, he stopped and looked back at her, eyebrow raised.

Tess grumbled. “All right already. I’m going, I’m going.”

She stepped into her room, her cell, and let the door swing shut with a soft click.

Back to prison it was.

Chapter Two

“I know there are times when you wake up and are all ‘shit this is crazy’ and then you’re

all ‘boo hoo for me’. Lemme tell ya, there’s always someone crazier than you. Always. Take my

children for example… Really, take them before I turn them into homicidal maniacs. I think it’d be

surprisingly easy, and that’s a temptation no woman should have.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of

the Ridgeville Pride and woman who has decided that nothing is worse than twins. Nothing.

It took Harding a while to find her. After two days of being stuck in bed, he’d shoved aside

the doc trying to keep him in the infirmary and then forced himself to his feet. It hadn’t been easy, and

more than once he nearly fell, but eventually he’d made it to the elevator. Damn, that Millie packed a

punch. Without Tess nearby, the pain was a constant drum in his body. It seemed only her touch could

soothe him, but she hadn’t returned, and the doctor had been adamant about him staying on bed rest.

Of course, the beaver shifter relented after a roar or two.

Limping past the living room, he ignored the grumbling and growling from a few women that

his sensitive hearing picked up. Stone had already told him the women weren’t thrilled with his

presence. “Not thrilled” seemed to be an understatement. The stench of hatred scored his nose when

he strode past the living room and toward the elevator.

He had to find Tess, had to talk to the woman that, by all accounts, he should despise.

Alistair’s violence against shifters had seemed unending. The man had targeted so many

people Harding cared about. No, not just “people.” Women. Alistair went after the pride’s women.

Thankfully, between the members of the Prima’s guards and a Council tracker, they’d been able to

return the ladies to safety.

Regardless of all that, even knowing that Tess was Alistair’s daughter, he couldn’t hate his

mate. There had to be something more there, something that he needed to look beyond to find the truth.

Harding pushed through the lingering pain, shoving it aside at the prospect of seeing Tess. It’d

only been two days, but already he was desperate to be with her.

He followed Stone’s directions through the forest, keeping an eye out for the inconspicuous

markings that would lead him to one of her favorite spots. After six months of chasing the woman

down all over the mountain, the gorilla had finally marked the path. Being a gorilla, Stone’s sense of

smell wasn’t the greatest. At the moment, Harding’s wasn’t either. He wished he could chase her by

her scent, but that cursed ache pounding within his bones made it hard to concentrate.

Damn, it was a long walk. As soon as they were mated, he’d tell Tess that she needed a new

favorite spot. One that was much closer to the compound. Like inside.

The leaves crunched and broke beneath his heavy boots, announcing his every step as he

neared Tess’s haven. He consciously made noise, giving her plenty of warning that someone

approached. Stone had told him of her reaction to Jackie’s behavior, the feral way she responded to

the woman’s words, and he didn’t want to frighten her into reacting to him. The twists and turns of her

scent hinted at different things. With every inhale, he’d tried to sort through her flavors and still

hadn’t come up with an answer.

Before long he came to the clearing she’d claimed as hers. She sat on a boulder not fifty feet

from him, her legs drawn up and arms wrapped around her shins while she rested her chin on one

knee. Those green eyes he ached to see once again weren’t centered on him, but were staring into

space, seeing everything and nothing at the same time.

Harding approached slowly, hoping not to scare her. She hadn’t turned toward him, and there

was no telling whether she knew of his presence or not. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten

his delicate mate.

When he was mere feet away, she rested her cheek on her knee and trained those piercing eyes

on him. She was quiet, the silence stretching between them with every passing second.

And suddenly he was tongue-tied. He had thought of nothing but getting to her, being in her

presence. God, he was probably supposed to talk. As if there was anything more frightening. Hell, he

would rather face her father than—

He didn’t want to think about her father.

“Do you know it all stops when you’re here?” Her words were a husky whisper.

“What stops?”

Tess shook her head. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. How are you feeling?”

Harding shifted and grimaced at the shot of pain that assaulted him. He wasn’t healing from

Millie’s attack like he normally would, but Stone indicated that it was because of the way he was

attacked. The woman didn’t really touch his body with her power. It was all in his mind. Until it

worked itself out, his brain would keep telling him he was damn near dying.

“Fine.”

“Liar.” A grin played around her lips.

He grunted. He would admit nothing.

Tess eased over and patted a bit of the stone. “C’mere.”

Harding was too tired to deny her. He stepped closer and lowered himself to the hard surface,

welcoming the chance to sit as well as be near his mate. The luxurious scent of honey wrapped

around him. His cock hardened and everything in him screamed with the need to toss her to the ground

and claim her.

Well, almost everything. There were still parts of him that realized that while he’d had years

to move beyond his past, Tess had not.

And that kept him at her side and doing his best to be nonthreatening.

The sounds of the mountain surrounded them. The rustling leaves called to Harding’s lion

while the trilling of the birds teased his cat’s senses. If they couldn’t have Tess, the least they could

do was chase down a few forest animals. Like a squirrel. Or a rabbit. Since two of his fellow guards

had mated a weresquirrel and a wererabbit, those had been taken off the menu, but here…

A snort tore into his thoughts. “Off the menu?”

He hadn’t said that out loud, had he?

“No, you didn’t.” Tess sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I let things slip. It’s hard to

remember with you here. Everything is so quiet.”

Harding furrowed his brow. He hadn’t had the opportunity to review anyone’s files, so he

wasn’t sure what “slipped.” “Tess?”

She turned her face toward him and closed her eyes. “Can I give you the short-ish version?

You can read the long one in my file later. And if you don’t wanna hang around when I’m done, let me

know before you run off. Things are silent with you here, and I’ll need to prepare and—”

He placed two fingers against her lips, jerking when skin met skin and a zing of electricity

bolted down his spine. His cock throbbed in his jeans and the cat purred with the solid touch. Gentle

caresses two days ago had been one thing, but this was firm contact. And he loved it. Her lips were

downy soft beneath his fingertips, and he forced his hand away before the urge to trace them

overwhelmed him.

“Just tell me. I’m not going anywhere.” Not even Stone and all of the other guards in the

mountain could get him away from her. He’d never leave…unless she told him to go. And even

then…

Tess took a deep breath, eyes still closed, and began her story. “Do you know what happens

when a woman is Changed while pregnant?”

Harding didn’t have an answer for her. The mere idea that a pregnant woman would be put

through such a thing boggled his mind. The Change was hard on a human, their DNA mutating and

transforming until a beast came to be inside them. The first shift was painful, debilitating to some, and

he couldn’t imagine what it’d do to a woman carrying a child. And what about the child?

“The child lives.” Tess answered her own question. “Except she’s got a bit of everything

inside her.” A delicate, shining tear emerged from beneath her lashes, and all he wanted to do was

pull her into his arms. “If her mother was telepathic, she inherits that ability. And if, after the Change,

she’s a Sensitive, the baby gets some of that as well.” Tess’s nostrils flared slightly as she took a

deep breath. “And once the mother is Changed, the daughter is fed a hint of her inner beast.” Tess

opened her eyes, and the emerald green was replaced by an arctic blue that seared his soul. “And if

the animal that bit her mother is Alistair McCain, she becomes his daughter.”

Harding couldn’t breathe, couldn’t force his lungs to draw air as the full weight of her words

slammed into him. They poured into his veins and thumped through him with every beat of his heart.

Her pain swamped him, wrapping around him like unbreakable chains, and tightened. She wasn’t

Alistair’s daughter and yet she was. Her scent made sense to him now: the conglomeration of so many

things, so much genetic history that merged to create the small woman before him.

He sensed her inner strength and the pain of her past that seemed to be a living, breathing thing

inside her. How many years had she spent beneath Alistair’s thumb? How many men had—?

Tess shook her head. “Beatings only. That was one thing he demanded of his men. It was the

line in the sand. One tried once, though.” A shudder overtook her, the pain a visible thing.

“Tess…” He wanted to touch her, comfort her and hug her tight. It would be better now. He’d

fix everything. His ma— He cut the thought off before it fully formed. The last thing he wanted to do

was frighten her with what he desired more than life itself.

Instead, he reached for her hand, moving slowly and giving her time to pull away. When she

didn’t even flinch, he encircled her wrist until he held her gently. Several of her fingers were bent at

odd angles, no longer straight and slim as God had intended.

First he traced her pinky finger, the first knuckle larger that it was supposed to be. “This

one?”

“Does it need a reason?”

He ignored the choke in her voice. “No, those kind of people never do. I’m just trying to

understand.”

Quiet descended and he thought she’d ignore the question. Then she didn’t. “I manipulated one

of the men into calling the police. It took some smoothing over, but Alistair got the cops to leave.”

Tear-kissed eyes met his gaze. “The man was killed. I got a broken finger. I was eight.”

God. Damn. That tore into his heart and ripped it to shreds, but that wasn’t the only story she

needed to tell. He didn’t think Tess had ever released the pain, and he hoped that he could help her

lance the boil.

“This one?” He touched her middle finger and it earned him a rueful grin.

“I learned what flipping the bird meant.” She raised her other hand. She had a matching set.

“Alistair didn’t like it much. I was thirteen.”

The wrist beneath his hand was also damaged, bones uneven in their healing. “And this?” He

let his fingers slide over the jagged ridge. “What happened here?”

“That was the once.” Had it not been for his enhanced hearing, he would have missed the

words.

“And is he dead?” He couldn’t have withheld the growl if the world depended on his silence.

He took solace in the fact that the male hadn’t succeeded, but the pain she’d had to endure through the

years was too much for his lion to bear. The need to slice and rend flesh nearly overwhelmed him.

The cat wanted out, wanted to hunt the one who’d hurt her.

“Yes.” A hate filled gaze met his. “Now, he is.”

A wealth of undercurrents lingered in her words, a feeling he couldn’t quite grasp drifting

around him. He fought to sift through the emotions sliding over her features, but was unable to identify

them.

That arctic blue lightened to near white, flaring in the waning light of day. “I don’t want your

pity, Harding. You needed to know about me and my past, and now you do. Simple as that.” She bit

off each word, pushing them past clenched teeth.

The scent of her anger brushed aside the remnants of her pain, and he welcomed the shift in

emotions. His cat couldn’t stand their woman hurting.

Though, her being pissed they could deal with. Pissed didn’t push his lion to the point of

breaking free. Plus, the cat hated handling confrontations with women. It much preferred the human

half of Harding deal with angry females. The beast was for protection and slaughtering and the two-

legged form got to deal with the rest.

His lion was lazy that way.

“Pity?” Harding glared at her. “I don’t feel pity for you.” He growled, his beast taking an

interest in the conversation now. “Rage. Fury. Those are things I feel. Pity?” He shook his head. “I

pity the men who ever laid a hand on you, those that caused bruises or even a single tear, because they

won’t live past a heartbeat when I meet them. The men who broke bones are gone, but the rest can fall

beneath my claw.”

Tess blinked and opened her eyes wide shook her head. “You can’t go after half of Alistair’s

men.”

“They aren’t his men anymore. His brother handed them over and gave the Council most of

Freedom’s land when your fath—” He cleared his throat. “When Alistair was killed.”

She gave him a rueful grin. “My ‘uncle’. Yeah, he gave you the men, but what about the

women?”

Harding jerked back in surprise. “The women?”

“What, you thought that only the men supported Alistair? No,” she shook her head. “There are

plenty of women in the organization who believed in the cause.” She lowered her gaze, focus distant

once again. “Plenty of women who can hit just as hard as any man.”

*

Tess didn’t want to see any other emotion that might drift across his features, didn’t want to

see his anger or pity or whatever else he felt. She even managed to add a few reinforcements to her

mental walls to shut his thoughts out of her head. Pushing away from the rock, she prepared herself for

stepping away from him, getting her head ready to be assaulted by everyone’s thoughts once again.

Harding tensed when she rose, but didn’t reach for her. Thank God. She wasn’t sure if she

could resist his touch if he grabbed her. She had no doubt that she’d melt into him and beg him to hold

her. It’d been a near thing when he touched her lips. That gentle connection had torn at her resolve.

Electricity crackled between them with that caress, tying them together if for only a moment.

Tess didn’t need him. She needed to remember that. She’d survived for twenty-six years on

her own. She’d been a leaf in the wind, drifting and flowing through life, doing whatever she had to

do to survive.

She took one step, then another away from the boulder. Her shoes crunched and crackled as

she walked over the dried leaves and twigs that littered the ground.

The distance between them stretched, pulling and tugging at her as if it were a physical thing.

Like a rubber band that continued to lengthen and thin, threatening to break at any moment. Only it

didn’t break. It kept on stretching, retaining the bond even as the distance grew.

When she reached the edge of the clearing, she heard him move, his tread heavier and loud.

His steps mirrored hers, the crackle and crunch falling in time while she ventured back into the forest.

Only…only silence suddenly surrounded them. The birds quieted, the soft ruffle of bushes and

trees ceased, and the forest seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

With the distance between her and Harding widening, voices crept into her consciousness

once again. Rage. Pure, potent, undeniable rage assaulted her. There were no words that accompanied

the feeling. No, it was undiluted emotion.

Tess stilled, her heart beating a rapid tattoo as she waited along with the trees and animals.

Something was about to happen. It could be something as simple as a predator, and she’d wandered

too close to his kill or… She didn’t want to think about “or.” There’d been too many “ors” in her life,

and she was done with them.

The speedy thump of Harding’s approach reached her, but even those sounds didn’t spur the

forest back into movement.

“Tess?” He whispered. He was so close that the heat of his body enveloped her. His warm

breath fanned her ear and cheek, and she was surprised that his nearness didn’t send her into a full-

blown panic.

“There’s someone…” She kept her voice as low as possible, not even a whisper, but she

knew Harding’s beast would allow him to hear her.

A warm, large hand enveloped hers, gripping her gently as he slipped past her. Pale fur

emerged from his pores in a rapid, undulating wave, coating him from shoulder to wrist. Even more

eased along his neck and dusted his jaw. There was no telltale crunch and crack of bone, yet his

cheeks became sharper, his mouth elongating while deadly fangs grew past his lips.

Harding tugged her along, pulling her in his wake as he slowly traversed the forest, weaving

amongst the trees. He didn’t take her normal route, instead traveling deeper into the thickening trees,

all the while his gaze scanning the surrounding area.

Tess’s heart thumped harder and harder, pumping adrenaline-laced blood through her body,

the life giving fluid pulsing within her veins. The sound drowned out everything else surrounding her,

making her deaf to the world. She fought to keep her steps light, placing her feet exactly as Harding

had done, matching him move for move.

His beast was ruling him now, the animal no longer lurking beneath the surface. And yet the

rage pouring off him wasn’t directed at her. He didn’t turn on her, strike her, sending her flying to the

ground with a bleeding lip and a new bruise. No, she easily sensed that his wrath was directed at

whoever stalked them.

Every so often, Tess would hear the low brush of cloth on cloth, or the snap of a twig.

Something that indicated they were still being followed.

This was no natural predator.

Suddenly, they turned northeast instead of continuing their westerly course.

“Harding?” She kept her voice low, barely above a whisper.

“Compound’s too far. There’s a cave in two hundred yards.”

Right. She knew that. Apparently, Stone knew about it too and had told Harding. What else

had the gorilla told him?

Harding led her around another bend, their feet flying over the ground and eating up the

distance between them and the cave. Then they delved into a thick cluster of bushes and emerged into

the small cavern.

The moment they stepped inside, he released her and reached behind him. A few shifts of

muscle and a tug and his hand emerged, handgun in his grasp.

Tess yanked her gaze from what he held and focused on the man, the beast, before her. The

pale, almost pure white fur now coated his face. Part of her wanted this nightmare to end so that she

could reach for him, trace the lines of his shifted body, and see if the hair was as downy soft as she

imagined.

Even with his face distorted as it was, she thought him beautiful. The white fur matched the

pale blue of his eyes, so alluring yet deadly. The hair on his head had grown, lightened and

lengthened until there was no doubt as to what he was.

Lion.

King of the jungle.

But she hadn’t ever seen a white lion before. Not even when her father was alive and

collected the outcasts of every shifter species.

The rapid clicks and slides of the gun in his hand brought her back to their situation. Harding

racked the slide, chambering a round, and handed it to her.

“Can you use it?” His words were garbled when pushed past his feline lips.

Tess nodded. “Well enough.”

Which wasn’t a lie. She could point and shoot with the best of them. Hitting things was

another story.

“Good.” He snared her wrist once again and tugged her toward the mouth of the cave. “I don’t

want you in danger, but you need to watch for anyone coming at you. You’re protecting yourself, Tess.

That’s it.” He took two steps, but paused when she spoke to him.

“What about you? Don’t you need a gun?”

Harding shook his head and raised one hand. His fingers reshaped, digits contorting until

claws emerged. The midnight black of those deadly nails clashed with the pure white fur that now

coated him. His body grew, chest expanding, muscles thickening, as he prepared to leave her.

“I prefer an up close and personal approach.” Harding grinned.

“Be careful.” Fear for him choked her throat. This one thing proved to her that he wasn’t like

the men who’d abused her over the years. Those cowards had reveled in destroying lives with guns.

They hid in the shadows and shot others, even women and children, with their bullets.

A flash of surprise coated his features, but it was gone as soon as it’d arrived. “You care.”

“I care.” Of course she cared. Stupid man.

Harding gave her a jerky nod and then disappeared through the bushes. He loped down the

low hill and slid into the forest once again. No tension marred his gait. He was simply a man with

deadly intent.

Tess sighed and gripped the gun tightly. “I care, Harding. I already care too much.”

*

Tess’s words carried him into the forest, dogging his heels and sticking to him like glue as he

disappeared amongst the shadows.

I care, Harding. I already care too much.

It was a start, a good beginning to their eventual mating. They had a few obstacles to

overcome first, but he had no doubt that it’d end with his teeth sliding into her shoulder as they made

love for the first time. God, his cat wanted to fuck the woman into the mattress—or the ground—but

he knew they’d come together slowly. Tess deserved nothing less.

But first he had to handle whoever had followed them. He hadn’t been worried at first, the

presence of another on the mountain not surprising him in the least. There were at least twenty-five

people living in the compound, and then there were the hikers. Sure, Freedom, and now the Council,

owned half the mountain, but it wasn’t like they could fence off their portion. The land was beautiful,

so it figured that others would have the same opinion.

Except this person… The first obvious hint had been the quieting of the forest, but Tess’s

reaction had woken his beast. The lion roared to the fore, hunting for the source of their mate’s fear. It

pushed against, and broke, Harding’s mental bindings. Fur had burst through his skin while bone and

muscle reshaped his face. But most of all, his senses grew until he could hear every heartbeat in the

forest. He could zero in on the unmoving buck and the frozen squirrel as well as the quiet birds

resting in the trees.

But there was a single echoing thump that drew his beast’s attention. It rose above the other

sounds as if daring Harding to follow. He tipped his head back, searching through the scents that

soaked the air, hunting up the identity of the interloper. Decaying leaves, wet grass, and dying trees

reached him, yet it remained elusive.

The person wasn’t gone though. While the intruder’s scent was indefinable, the heavy flavor

of hate was ever present. It stung his nose and teased his cat.

Harding flexed his fingers, enjoying the feel of his claws and anxious for them to meet the

person who contained so much hatred for his mate.

He ventured further into the forest, no longer retracing his steps, but choosing a different path

through the trees. He hoped to circle behind whoever followed them. He could hear the uneven

crackle and snap of twigs and branches off to his left. Unfortunately, the wind still wasn’t blowing

toward him, gifting him with the person’s scent.

He traveled further and further down the mountain, ears open for the occasional scuffle and

shift of his prey. The person continued on a predictable path, following his and Tess’s steps of only

moments ago. The trick would be eliminating the threat without actually eliminating the threat. He

needed to ensure Tess’s safety, so “capture but not kill” was a necessity.

When the other person’s pace increased, so did Harding’s. He closed the gap between him

and the intruder. It’d be any moment now, any second he’d be within pouncing distance and his prey

none the wiser.

Any…second…

Except a heavy crack split the air, the echoing sound startling the animal life around him. The

birds took to the air while animals bolted. Harding dropped into a low crouch and waited, listening

for anything. The sound came from a distance, nowhere near him, and a bullet hadn’t struck nearby.

Another crack, immediately followed by two more and his pulse froze, blood stilling in his

veins.

Tess.

Harding ignored his prey, rushing forward and zigzagging his way around trees and vegetation

as he made a beeline for Tess. It had to have been her. The direction was right, as was the distance.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have left her alone. He should have rushed her back to the safety of the compound

before beginning his hunt. It was his cocksure attitude that put her in danger, and now she would

suffer for it.

His beast lent him power and strength, spurring him on with every flex of muscle. Yet he was

still too slow for the lion.

He tore his shirt from his body, shredding the fabric with ease, and yanked at his pants,

ripping them to bits. A small release of his restraint had the cat bursting free. His shoes fell away as,

between one step and the next, a massive white lion appeared.

A jolt of speed sent him flying across the forest floor, paws barely touching the ground before

he took another stride.

Another two shots, another burst of energy until the mountainside became a green and brown

blur. He ignored the rapid retreat of his prey, the stumbling, bumbling stomps that took his target out

of reach. He had only one thought: Tess.

Harding burst through the vegetation, claws digging into the rocky ground while his gaze

swept over the situation before him. A single woman faced off against Tess. Fur and fangs made her

face unidentifiable, yet the scent wove true. Jackie circled his mate, snarling as she moved round and

round. Tess still clutched the gun, hands tight around the butt and finger near the trigger. Clumps of

dirt showed that she had merely shot at the ground in warning, but it was easy to see the shifter

wouldn’t be denied his mate’s blood much longer.

Before Jackie could move another muscle, Harding jumped in front of Tess, easily soaring

over the shifter’s head and landing with a near noiseless thump. The instant his claws met earth, he

released a mountain shaking roar. He spread his maw wide, exposing his four-inch fangs as they

dripped with saliva, while his rage was voiced to one and all. The woman dared growl in response,

so he rose to his back legs and struck out at Jackie, claws barely missing the female. He wouldn’t

have truly injured her, but she didn’t know that. Fear was an intense motivator.

Mine. He snarled. All mine. The cat roared, his beast stealing more control as the seconds

passed. The more the female shifter challenged his claim, the angrier his lion became. He swiped at

Jackie, catching her shirt with the tips of his claws and rending the fabric with ease. How easy it’d be

to tear through that pretty skin…

Jackie gave him one last growl and then ran, hissing and spitting the whole way. Harding

remained tense and vigilant as he watched her go, the cat unwilling to lose focus for even a moment.

The threat still lingered, lurking in the woods. True, the most immediate one was gone, but she wasn’t

whom he’d been hunting moments ago.

Small fingers sifted through his mane, clutching his fur with desperation, and the curvaceous

frame of his mate slumped against his back. Wetness seeped through to his skin, and he took note of

Tess’s waning terror. Relief coursed through her now, his mate thankful that he’d come when needed.

He always would. Always.

The gun fell to the ground with a thump, the deadly hunk of metal landing near his paw. He’d

make her keep one on her from now on. She had some non-human powers, but they wouldn’t save her

from tooth and claw.

He turned his head toward her sobbing body and lapped at her skin, sliding his rough tongue

along her bare arm. He cataloged her flavors, the honeyed sweetness mixed with salt from her sweat

and the bitter taste of terror. He bit back a growl and promised himself that he’d see to Jackie. How

dare she? How dare she?

He licked her again, revealing a feline smile when she giggled instead of sobbed.

Tess sighed and slumped to the ground, resting her head against his side, and her fingers were

still buried in his mane. He lowered his rear end and let her take what comfort she could.

“Thank you.” She rubbed her face against his shoulder.

He purred; his beast thrilled with being marked by their mate. The sound came from deep

within his chest, vibrating throughout his body, and a contentment he’d never known stole over him.

Tess repeated the caress, burying her nose. The purr grew, rumbling and traveling through them both.

“Thank you so much.”

Harding leaned down and nuzzled her, inhaling her sweet scent and allowing her presence to

drive away the last of his terror-fueled rage. His mate—his mate—had been attacked. Threatened by

the very woman she’d shared a home with for any number of months.

There are plenty of women in the organization who believed in the cause. Plenty of women

who can hit just as hard as any man.

Some sort of evaluation needed to happen. Now. Jackie proved that females could be as

deadly as males.

Harding nudged Tess, intent on urging her to stand so they could leave. His mate’s green-eyed

gaze met with his, and she leaned forward and kissed his nose. It was nothing more than a chaste

brush of her lips, but it was still their first kiss. Too bad he was wearing fur.

With another nudge, she pushed to her feet, but refused to release his mane. No matter, his cat

was still purring, happy with her touch.

He led her back to the woods, his paws nearly silent on the forest floor. They retraced their

steps, but he was ever vigilant as they traveled. Jackie had been deflected for now. Until he had a

chance to talk with Stone, he’d have to be careful with Tess. Nothing could happen to his mate.

Nothing.

The chitter of birds returned with every step, the rustle of the wind picking up once again, and

the low sounds of forest animals skittering across the ground reached him. The happy animals

indicated that whatever had scared them was gone. And for once, it wasn’t Harding who had terrified

them.

Before long they stood within the compound’s cave entrance, and Tess gained them access.

Her fingers still deep within his mane, Tess led him into the elevator. Even then she didn’t release

him, hand still clutching him like a lifeline.

He hated that he couldn’t change and tug her into his arms. Not when shifting back to two legs

meant standing naked before her. He wasn’t sure she was ready for that yet. Getting to her had been

his priority, and now he was stuck comforting her with his fur. Since they were relatively safe, he

leaned into her, pressing along her leg and hip and nuzzling her shoulder. When a soft weight rested

against the top of his head, he purred once again. She leaned on him and took what little comfort he

could offer.

All too soon the elevator dinged, announcing their arrival. When Tess stepped forward to exit

first, he nudged her back with his nose. No, one of the women inside had already tried attacking his

Tess once; she wasn’t going to get another chance so easily.

Harding stepped into the entryway, his tail flicking in agitation as he entered. The deep thud of

someone approaching had his ear twitching toward the sound, but he kept his focus intent on the

doorway that led to the living room.

Tess’s fingers tightened in his fur and he focused on the low voices. Those footsteps neared,

but he recognized the weight and cadence. Ben was on his way, and the lion knew theirs would be

safe with Ben. He was massive and fierce and was a friend to Tess. She’d be safe while he went into

that room and roared, showing Jackie that Tess wasn’t to be fucked with. She may not have claws and

fangs, but he did. And he was more than happy to use them.

Ben neared and he turned his head enough to see the elephant in his peripheral vision. The

man raised a single brow as he moved into Harding’s line of sight. “Is there a reason we’re seeing all

this fur?”

Harding waited for Tess to tell Ben of Jackie and how she’d been more than happy to tear her

human body limb-from-limb.

Instead, he heard a forced smile in her voice. “We had a debate on whose balls were bigger:

yours, or his?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You won, by the way.”

Harding growled, but she stroked him, lessening his annoyance in an instant. Maybe he could

deal with any insult if it came with her gentle hands. He looked at Ben fully, noticing the smug look on

the shifter’s face.

Maybe.

Tess tugged on his mane. “I’m gonna go back to my room and change. I’ll see ya at dinner.”

Nudging her until she stood on his other side and away from the living room’s open doorway,

he allowed himself to be led from the area. She probably thought she was in control, tugging him

along like a pet, but in truth he simply didn’t want to let her out of his sight. Not now. Not ever.

As they eased into the living room’s archway, he thought back to her words.

“There are plenty of women in the organization who believed in the cause. Plenty of

women who can hit just as hard as any man.”

He wanted to ask her if there were any within the compound. He glanced into the living area,

letting his gaze sweep the room yet linger on the women. Fear, worry, and revulsion met him, but also

a good dose of malevolence.

Harding had his answer.

Chapter Three

“You got problems? I got kids. Here, we’ll trade.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the

Ridgeville Pride and woman who’d like to trade. Really.

Thud. Thump. Thud. Slap.

Thud. Thump. Thud. Slap.

That’s how he found her the next day, tossing her tennis ball against the wall and catching it

when it returned.

Floor. Wall. Floor. Hand. Rinse and repeat.

The creak and groan of the lock on her steel bedroom door proved he’d snare the key from

Stone since the gorilla was the only one who had a copy. The low grumbles within the visitor’s mind

told her exactly who stood on the other side.

Tess had avoided him at dinner yesterday. Again at breakfast and lunch. It was amazing how

easily she could sneak around and snare food without crossing his path. But, apparently, the lion was

finished waiting for her to reemerge.

Harding. Her savior and…something else.

For twenty-four hours her body had screamed at her to go to him, sink into his fur and take

comfort from his touch.

She hadn’t. Obviously.

Which had only made the yearning that much greater.

Thud. Thump. Thud. Slap.

But it wasn’t like they had anything to talk about. Not really. Well, really-ish. He’d saved her

from Jackie the Bitch, of course. Otherwise, there was nothing between them. Except heat. God, the

heat was nearly killing her.

The heavy door slid open on silent hinges, portal swinging wide to expose the man she’d

expected.

Thud. Thump. Thud. Slap.

Her rhythm never faltered. Not when she looked to him and was reminded of those pale locks

that begged for her touch, or those blue eyes that stripped her with one glance. It didn’t stutter when

she took in the black shirt that clung to his chest like a second skin or saw the way his jeans molded to

his muscular thighs.

Nope. That ball kept on going.

Didn’t keep drool from pooling in her mouth though.

Tess fought with her body, demanding that she not become aroused in his presence. The

damned cat would catch the scent in a single breath, and then she’d be vulnerable to the much larger

shifter.

She couldn’t have that. She’d spent the last twenty-four hours telling herself that the

momentary spark of caring toward Harding had been a fluke. It wasn’t real. It’d been appreciation. A

speck of any emotion toward another could easily blossom into more. Then she’d have a walking,

talking vulnerability. That couldn’t happen.

A small smile graced his lips and she tore her gaze from him, refocusing on the repetitive

motion of the tennis ball. Looking at those kissable lips was too tempting.

Without an invitation, he stepped into the room. She watched him from the corner of her eye.

He padded to her small desk, and she noticed that his feet were bare.

God, could feet be sexy?

A tendril of heat unfurled within her.

Apparently they could be.

Thud. Thump. Thud. Slap.

A rustle and clink reached her just before the scent of Ben’s infamous beef stew drifted over

to her. Then Harding was by her side, over six feet of muscle, man, and lion not a foot from her body.

More of that unfamiliar heat slid into her veins, and she chastised herself. This wasn’t a man she

wanted. Besides, males couldn’t be trusted. Even those that professed to be trying to help could harm

more than assist.

With ease, he lowered himself to the threadbare carpet, two bowls of steaming stew in his

hands. He hadn’t uttered a word, not a single syllable had left his mouth, yet he’d said so much.

She got that smile that told her he knew she’d been hiding.

The barefooted swagger that said he was comfortable with her.

The exposed back as he stood at her desk that indicated he trusted her.

The stew that said he wanted to care for her.

Damn it.

Following the next slap she caught the ball and then set it beside her, reaching for the stew

with her free hand. He handed it over with a murmured “careful, it’s hot” and relaxed against the wall

along with her. They sat there, shoulder to shoulder while they silently ate. The flavors coated her

tongue and slowly filled her stomach. Not as good as the chocolatey, cream-filled goodness she had

hidden in her desk, but still delicious.

Before long she was at the bottom of her bowl, spoon scraping against the hard surface as she

captured every remaining drop. She licked the curve of her utensil and glanced at Harding. He held

out his half-filled bowl, extending it toward her without a word.

Did she dare? Her gaze flicked between his face and the bowl and back.

Yet again he talked to her without saying anything, told her that he cared more for her health

than his own hunger.

Damn it.

Slowly, she took the bowl from him and set the empty one aside. Still not looking at him, she

resumed eating, spooning the delicious stew into her while covertly watching him.

Harding seemed at ease, his muscles loose as he sat beside her. He plucked her tennis ball

from the ground and mimicked what she’d been doing moments ago.

Thud. Thump. Thud. Slap.

The steady tempo repeated over and over again, the familiar sounds soothing to her tumbling

mind. She didn’t want him in her room, did she? She swallowed another bite, licking the spoon to

capture every hint of the delicious spices. For the briefest of moments Harding’s rhythm faltered, and

then he settled back into the normal pace.

Huh.

Keeping an eye on Harding, she scooped another bit of the stew and slid it into her mouth.

This time she let a small moan of appreciation flow from her. It happened again: a slight stutter in his

movements.

She did it once more, flicking the underside of the spoon with her tongue. His reactions made

her bold, made her forget that being near him was a mistake. Because…because some part of her was

drawn to the massive lion. The man with scars that covered his body, proof that he’d lived a hard life,

called to her. For every wound that had dug into her soul, he carried on his skin. Was that why she

was at ease with him?

Maybe.

Tess teased once more, licking the delicate curve of her spoon and the next slap of the ball

against his palm ended with a soft pop as his elongated nails dug into the pressurized rubber.

“Tess…”

She sought out the fear that usually lingered beneath her skin, lurking and waiting for a chance

to pounce on her when she least expected. Yet it didn’t appear. Not a hint of nervousness or worry

jumped out at her. No panic attack reared its ugly head. Nothing.

Unwilling to push him further, she sat the bowl and spoon aside. “I needed that.”

“Uh-huh.” Harding tossed the ruined ball into the trash across the room. “You wouldn’t have

if you hadn’t been avoiding me and snatched more than snacks here and there.”

She wasn’t gonna blush from embarrassment. Really. She also wasn’t going to tell him about

her secret stash of snack cakes. There was nothing better than highly processed, chocolate-topped

goodness. She could live on Twinkies and Swiss Rolls for the rest of her life.

“I was—”

“Avoiding me.”

Harding pushed from the ground and rose to his full height. He extended his hand and she

stared at it, her gaze shifting between his palm and his face. Pushing aside the flutter of nerves that

formed in her belly, she gave him her hand and allowed him to pull her from the floor.

In a blink, she was vertical, standing before him. No, that wasn’t even right. He’d tugged her

up and then some, pulling her against him until his heat crept through her clothes. Their bodies were

aligned, her curves against the hard planes of him, and once again she was reminded of their

differences. His skin was stretched taught over rippling muscles while her body just…rippled.

Okay, jiggled. Her fat jiggled. There, she admitted it.

But, admission or not, she couldn’t tear away from him, didn’t want to move from his arms.

Because she was in his arms, his hands now clasped at her back and holding her close. He surrounded

her with his presence, embracing her as if he’d like nothing more than to remain that way for eternity.

For a moment, the briefest of heartbeats, she allowed herself to dream. To imagine being held

every day. To imagine waking beside him, his kisses tugging her from slumber.

Oh yes, she imagined… Then pushed it all away with a simple reminder.

She was Tess McCain.

She wiggled, pulling back while pushing against his chest, silently fighting for release.

Without hesitation he let her go, and she stepped away from him, putting distance between them. Not

that there was much space in her tiny room with all of her furniture, but even a foot was better than the

press of him against her.

Dreams were for other people.

Keeping her gaze averted, she went to the plush chair in the corner and sank into the soft

cushions. “Thank you for dinner. And I wasn’t avoiding you per se.”

Harding quirked his brow, disbelief evident in his features. “Right.”

She reached behind her and tugged the throw pillow free so she could hug it to her chest. “Not

really.”

“Uh-huh.” He stepped to her desk and sank into the office chair, spreading his legs wide as he

lay sprawling in the seat. “Try again.”

“I was avoiding…confrontation.” There, that worked. It was vague enough to mean…

“With me? Or Jackie?”

Damn him for doing the whole specific thing. “Um…”

Harding leaned forward, drawing his legs in and then resting his forearms on his knees. “It’s a

little of both, isn’t it?”

The desire in his eyes forced a blush into her cheeks. The sexy, knowing smirk made it burn

all the hotter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” Harding’s eyes paled, his cat coming into play and his nostrils flared as he took a

deep breath.

Shit shit shit. She hadn’t exactly kept a lid on her attraction to him. “I’m serious.”

Now he sat back with a cocky grin. “Right. We’ll talk about Jackie first. You didn’t say

anything to Ben—or even Stone—or ask me to step in. Why? Our job isn’t just to keep you protected

from outsiders, Tess. We need to keep you and the other women safe from all threats, both outside

and in. Period.”

Tess sighed and let her eyes drift closed. “It’s a…thing.” She shook her head, forcing

memories to stay within the vault she’d created long ago. She could talk about the past without letting

everything run free. “I haven’t always been here, you know?” She didn’t open her eyes to see if he

was focused on her. She felt the weight of his gaze. “I was shuttled around a lot. Moved from place to

place, usually wherever Alistair happened to be.”

She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat, pushing down the tears. “We stopped in

Texas.” Now she opened her eyes, stared right into the pale orbs and shoved through the increasing

ache. God, why couldn’t she talk about this yet? It’d been fucking years. And it hadn’t even happened

really. But the “almost” and “could-have-beens” always won out. “I was thirteen.”

She gave him a moment to recall the importance of her age and when his gaze fell to her

wrists, she saw the flare of recognition climb through his body. He tensed, muscles stiff beneath his

skin.

Tess cleared her throat. “I was thirteen. And my ‘almost’ was a certainty for Jackie. Before

Alistair found out and killed the male, there was Jackie.” She shook her head. “She nearly didn’t

make it.” She turned her attention to the wall, seeing, yet not. “I don’t even know if he ripped that man

apart because of me, or her. But it had the same result, regardless. No one ever tried to rape me

again.” She focused on Harding then, taking in the rage that lined every inch of his body. “And she’s

never been beaten since.”

Harding’s chest slowly rose and fell, his nostrils flaring with each breath, and he clenched the

arms of the chair with claw-tipped fingers. “And the rapes?”

“Those continued. The woman never stopped fighting those animals, but it always happened.

She just wasn’t battered and bruised when it was done. They became very, very careful.”

“So she blames you.”

Tess nodded. “She blames me. If those men couldn’t have me, they went after her. Alistair

made us travel together then, thought it was hilarious that she tried to kill me nearly every day. He

never let her get in more than a few swipes, but it amused him.”

“So she’s still trying.” His face no longer held the gentle lines she’d memorized, but had now

hardened and sharpened. Yes, the kitty was pushing for a chance to come out and play.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. It was what it was. Thirteen years taught her that it wasn’t likely to

change. “It was worse this time because I went after her and managed to get in a good swipe before

Stone separated us. He knows of our…animosity. He just doesn’t have anywhere else to put me. I

figure the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. Jackie will always be after me.”

“Damn it, Tess.” More growls tinged his words.

“Let it go, Harding. I know you’re here to keep us all safe.” She gestured around her room.

“This is me being safe. Sooner or later the Council will get things settled and then they can lock me

away in another room, away from people who don’t want me dead.” Not that she thought they would

find such a place, but she hoped. She hadn’t had any in years, but it had started growing deep within

her.

Harding released the chair and brought his hands to his temple, rubbing small circles over the

bone. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

Tess tilted her head to the side, watching the man and noticing things she’d missed before.

There were lines of tension marring his lips, his eyes half-closed, and the tightness of his jaw showed

a stress that couldn’t be just from her words.

Damn it.

“You’re still hurting.” It was a statement, an expression of the truth. “From that first day.”

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse, more of the cat coming out to play. But she didn’t sense

aggression or a threat coming from the beast. No, now that she was paying attention, pain was all she

felt. Pain tinged with a hint of someone other. A person she knew?

Pushing to her feet, she padded across the room, ignoring every warning bell that sounded

within her. Hurting animals were dangerous, deadly. Even shifters were known to strike out when

injured. This wasn’t physical damage, but it was no less painful.

She stepped between his outstretched legs, ignoring the seductive scent surrounding her. His

body called to her, urging her to slide onto his lap and hold him close. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not

until she figured out who was trying to drive him insane. Millie was strong, but not this strong. It’d

been four days since he’d arrived, and still his pain continued.

With a flick, she pushed his hands aside and replaced his fingers with her own.

It was a gentle touch that pulled a deep snarl from his chest. “Tess.”

“Hush.” Her fingertips rested on his temples, and then she did something she hadn’t done in

years: she opened herself.

To Harding’s pain… To someone’s hate… To a presence that was eerily familiar, yet not.

*

The word had barely left Tess’s mouth before pure peace settled over Harding. A sweetness

he’d never experienced washed through him and gentle, ethereal hands stroked him from inside out.

The aches and pains of the last few days drifted from his body as if they’d never existed. He

reveled in the sudden relief, his cat relaxing as the hammering ache slithered from him. The lion

stretched and purred, sliding through his mind in a newfound contentment.

He sensed his mate. Her ghost-like presence floated through him as if she’d always belonged

there. Then again, she did. She was his mate, his one and only, and she was destined to share every

part of him.

Possessiveness and want got his beast to its feet, the cat suddenly aware that its quarry was

within reach. The cat couldn’t claim her physical body, but coating her in its mental scent was still

available.

The lion padded through him, hunting up the scent of sensual sweetness that embodied Tess. It

took moments to locate her within him, and he head butted her barely-there body. A giggle echoed

through him, and then near-invisible hands dug into his fur, stroking and petting him. He rubbed his

muzzle against her, making sure that he transferred as much of his pheromones onto her as possible.

She moved away. He followed, trailing after her like the lovesick cub he was. He knew that

her physical body was close, but her mental presence was even closer. The cat’s purr grew with

every step, every stroke of her hand across his fur, each scratch behind his ear. When she stopped, he

stopped, mirroring her path, uncaring of her destination.

Nothing mattered but being near her.

“Harding?” Her lyrical voice echoed within him.

Could he respond to her?

“Yes, you can.” Another laugh. “Just think. Imagine you’re talking to me. I can hear you.”

This was a different Tess than the one that normally stood before him. Her happiness came

easily, her smiles bright. She didn’t respond to his thought, and he hoped she hadn’t caught it in her

web.

What are you doing? He tried speaking directly to her.

“Hunting. Gimme a sec.” Tess traveled deeper into him, striding along the twisting and turning

hallways of his mind.

She went around one corner and the next, passing the various rooms where he’d tucked his

memories. He kept them separate, hiding the experiences that he never wanted to revisit.

“Damn, Harding.” Tess stepped around a towering pile of papers, and the lion tripped over

them as it passed.

A jarring tremble hit him, memories of high school overtaking him in a rolling wave. God, not

them. He’d forgotten about those snippets. General daily bits weren’t bad, but there were parts. Parts

that came after…

Instead of passing the mess by, Tess paused and turned toward them, hands outstretched, and

Harding could do nothing but hold his breath. He didn’t know how to interact with her inside him, and

the cat didn’t seem inclined to stop her.

Wait.

But she didn’t wait. No, she tucked a few together, glancing at the top page before reforming

the stack, and then froze in place. Her body shook, chest rising and falling in an ever-increasing

rhythm. She reached out for the lion, fingers digging into its fur, and slumped against the cat.

“Harding? Oh, God, Harding…” Her mental voice was hoarse and strained.

He shied away from what she reviewed. He knew each bit by heart, every hurt and burst of

agony forever branded into his skin. The lion brushed against her, nosing her hands, and the sheaves

flowed to the ground. A glance at her face revealed glistening tears, the shining droplets sliding over

her cheeks, and he cursed his inability to create a human-shaped body within his own mind. He ached

to tug her close, wrap her in his arms, and tell her that none of it mattered. Nothing beyond her was

worth a thought. Every bit that had been broken was slowly healing now that he had his mate near.

“This…” Tess waved to the scattered remnants of his high school years. “This is so

beyond…”

It doesn’t matter, Tess.

“How can you say that? How—?”

Her words were silenced by a stab of pain that rocketed through him. His cat roared in

protest, snarling at their hidden enemy, and suddenly it wasn’t sweet Tess within him. She

transformed. The tears disappeared, and the smiles she’d flashed moments ago were wiped away as

if they’d never existed.

She looked feral now, all pretenses of civility banished with the new attack on him. She spun

on her heel and sped through the twisted halls of his mind, grumbling all the while. The cat, as well as

his own consciousness, raced after her. The beast went from a gentle, loping run to an all-out sprint.

She dashed around obstacle after obstacle, chasing his agony.

It was all mental, she’d given him those words before, but they did nothing to comfort the

debilitating pain.

The lion roared, the sound shaking his memories, forcing doors long sealed to burst open.

Now his past chased them as well.

They bolted around turns and sprinted until they emerged into the lion’s lair. The cat wasn’t

encumbered by Harding’s memories. It lived in a space blessedly free of it all.

Tess spun, attention centered solely on the area surrounding them. “He’s here, Harding. Here.

Someone dared trespass on what is mine…”

A rumbling growl shook him, even the cat crouching in agitation as the sound vibrated his

entire world. The beast trembled with the rising intensity and Harding couldn’t blame it. The growl

transformed into an inhuman roar that became an earthquake of noise and at the epicenter stood Tess.

The timid smiles and shyness were gone, replaced by a woman that defied description. Her ethereal

body solidified, the translucence filling until her body formed. She was bathed in glowing white light,

the sight nearly blinding.

The crescendo of her roar deafened him while the glow stole his sight. As quickly as the pain

began, it was suddenly gone, lost in Tess’s outrage. In an instant, the light disappeared, and darkness

settled around them once again. Only…only Tess was no longer at the center of his world.

With a gasp, Harding opened his eyes and blinked against the sudden brightness. With reflexes

borne of his cat, he managed to catch an unconscious Tess before she slumped to the ground. As if she

were made of the thinnest glass, he held her close to him. His mind still reeled, not quite

comprehending what had just occurred, but above it all, he knew Tess needed him.

Carefully, he rose and carried her to the small bed against the wall. His balance sucked, but

he managed to get Tess to the soft surface without dropping her and falling on his face. Thank God for

miracles.

Harding slid her onto the mattress, but his arms didn’t want to release her and his cat begged

him not to let go. She was so tiny compared to him, a curvy slip of a woman.

One who’d somehow banished whatever pain lingered within him. He felt perfect, unharmed

by what had been happening for the past several days. There were no aches and twinges marring his

movements. The agony that had become a companion was no longer attacking him. With her scream,

her burst of rage, she’d gotten rid of it all.

Her scream…

“Someone dared trespass on mine…”

It was too much to hope that her definition of “mine” and his were the same.

He withdrew his arms from beneath her but didn’t move away. With a gentle touch, he

brushed her hair aside, giving him a clear view of the curve of her cheek and sweep of her neck. He

wanted to nibble her there, lick and taste, then bite. A claiming bite. Yes, he couldn’t wait for that,

though he had a feeling lush Tess wouldn’t be falling into his arms anytime soon.

The relaxed expression on her face eased his worry. Tess didn’t appear to be harmed by what

had just occurred, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. He’d go to the infirmary and grab the doc, drag

him here to her room if necessary. He wanted her checked out. Period. Patting his pocket, he

confirmed he still had the key. Good. He could lock her in, protecting her from Jackie while he

fetched someone.

One last look at her alluring features and he realized he couldn’t resist her. He couldn’t leave,

not without a simple…

Harding leaned over her, bracketing her with his arms while he lowered his face. He brushed

a whisper-soft, chaste kiss across her brow. The lion encouraged him, urged him to lie down and pull

the sleeping woman into his arms. Apparently, the cat didn’t care if he had an invitation or not.

But he resisted the beast. Slowly he eased away, intent on putting space between them only…

only Tess’s arms wrapped around his neck and tugged him closer.

A low murmur was on her lips, but the words were unmistakable. “Harding… Stay…”

“Tess…” His resolve was faltering beneath his human half’s desire to be close to her and his

beast’s outright demands that he stay put. “I need to get a doc, sweet.”

She turned her head and nuzzled him. “No. Fine. Sleepy. Stay.”

“You can’t even speak in complete sentences, Tess.”

She growled and nipped his wrist. “Stay.”

With a sigh, he relented. “Lemme scoot you over.”

She grinned, her eyes still closed, and he slid her across the mattress until she was against the

wall. He settled at her side, and she curled against him, fitting her luscious curves along the hard

planes of his body as if she belonged there.

Then again. She did.

“Someone dared trespass on what is mine…”

Maybe she realized it, too.

*

Tess was shaken. Her body and mind had yet to sync and slide into one. Right now she

operated on instinct. And instinct demanded that Harding stay with her, that he was safe.

Safety had been so long in coming. Stone had done his best, but he hadn’t pounced between

Jackie and her, hadn’t run off the homicidal bitch. Nope, the gorilla had talked, and talked, and talked

about playing well with others. The man had tiptoed around the five of them, afraid of sending one of

them over the edge.

Harding’s pain lingered in the air. Oh, it lessened and dispersed with every passing breath,

but its memory still floated around them.

Tess tasted its essence, and the psychic residue of Harding’s attacker rolled through her mind.

She noticed hints of Millie’s assault from days ago, sensed the shifter’s presence, but it was clouded

by something—someone—else. She let the flavors tumble over her tongue as she sought the source in

her memories. Right now, she wasn’t liking what she was finding.

She hugged Harding tighter, welcoming the squeeze that he gave her in response. “You okay?”

Tess nuzzled his chest, the after effects of her journey into his mind still making it difficult to

form words. “Mmm…”

Harding chuckled, and then his chest stilled. “I really should get you to a doc, Tess.”

“Won’t help.” She settled deeper into his embrace with a contented sigh. God, when had she

ever felt so safe?

The answer was easy: never.

“Tess…”

“Gimme a minute. Need to hunt in my head.” She knew he didn’t understand, but she couldn’t

take the time to explain, not while the stranger’s scent was still so fresh. It tickled at her memory,

teasing and taunting her.

She delved into her past, sought out what she needed. Unlike Harding, her mind was

organized, memories tucked neatly into filing cabinets, each labeled with bits of time. With so many

voices battering her day in and day out, she’d needed some semblance of order so she could function.

Every interaction, each confrontation was tucked away somewhere amongst the files.

Tess padded along the length of the first row, ticking off the years. Those were simply

retellings of what had happened to her, nothing extraordinary or particularly painful. Just…events.

The next row held individuals: those who had hurt her repeatedly and heaped trauma after trauma

upon her. She shied away from Alistair’s cabinet, unwilling to be caught in the web of his abuse. No,

Harding’s aggressor wasn’t Alistair. Her father was dead. She needed to remember that. But knowing

that he was gone didn’t lessen her fear of him.

Unbidden, the polar bear’s actions assaulted her. His fists pummeled her, and bone-shaking

snarls vibrated through her body. She whimpered and eased away from the metal box, her body

trembling in fear, but it still attacked her. She’d kept it locked up tight, and still his presence loomed

before her.

A soft brush of lips against her temple preceded low, whispered words. “Easy, I’ve got you.

Shh…” Harding. Harding had her. She gulped and burrowed into his side, twining her legs with his.

She wanted to crawl inside him and welcome the safety he represented. His arms tightened and drew

her half across him as if sensing her need to be even closer. “I’ve got you, Tess. Won’t let you go.”

Assured of his protection, she dashed away from the memories of her father, racing down the

row until she reached the very end. There was what she hunted. She had her own catalog of

Sensitives and psychics she’d encountered in her lifetime. She reached for the drawer, intent on

exploring her memories, except… Except there was a new box nearby.

Small and compact, it was cardboard while others were made of steel. Brow furrowed, she

dropped to her knees and looked the small container over. This wasn’t something she built. At least,

not consciously. She reached for the top and slid it off with ease. She took a deep breath, preparing

herself for what she would find. Then her heart stilled.

It was a box, all right. A box filled with memories of Harding. Only a handful of them

occupied the small space, but what floored her was their existence at all. She flipped through the

thoughts… Smiles… The twinkling of his eyes… The sensual heat that entered his gaze when he

stepped into her room… The mere idea of sex with Harding had her shivering, and a low pulse of

arousal slithered through her. She shuddered, her physical body mirroring her mind.

Another brush of Harding’s lips graced her temple, reminding her that he was so close, his

arms around her while she slumped over his body. Eyes closed, she tilted her head back in invitation.

When she sensed his next descent, she stretched for him and welcomed his touch. His mouth pressed

against hers, tentatively at first, but then he increased the pressure. One soft kiss became two, became

four. His scent enveloped her, and she was surrounded by him, wrapped in a bundle of growing

desire and safety.

He flicked her lips with his tongue, and she didn’t hesitate to open for him. Sex, kissing, was

new to her, but she’d watched enough television to understand what they were doing. His flavors

exploded over her tongue as he swept into her mouth. She mimicked his actions, delving into him and

hunting for more of his taste. Heated musk and man met her, and she wanted more.

She clutched him, holding tight while he taught her what it was to kiss someone. She wiggled

and writhed, fought to push closer, climb higher, in order to better reach his mouth. She moaned

against his lips and tangled her tongue with his, suckling and licking him in turn. Parts of her body

she’d never truly explored heated with each passing second. Sexual warmth surrounded her, them,

and she wanted more.

Her pussy warmed, growing heavy and aching with unfulfilled desire. She wanted…

something. She’d touched herself before, explored her body, but this need was new. The feral part of

her, the bits she’d inherited from Alistair, flared to life and demanded that she succumb to the lion

beneath her. The beast pounded against her control, and a disconnected roar echoed through her mind.

The bear was a piece of her, yet not, and she refused to listen. At least, not fully.

She dove into Harding’s kisses, accepting and giving them in equal measure until her

breathing came in heavy, gasping pants. And still their mouths remained connected.

Yes, the bear urged. Mine.

That single word had her ripping her mouth from Harding, and she scrambled over him, diving

for the far corner of the room. She curled into a ball, holding her knees close to her chest. He

remained reclined on the bed, his eyes closed and chest heaving before he finally looked at her.

His pale blue orbs met her gaze and darkened beneath her perusal, his cat receding. “You

okay?” His voice was hoarse, and the bulge at the juncture of his thighs proved that it was due to

suppressed arousal. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Tess shook her head. “It was me. I…” I have a box of memories of you and I want you…

“I’m sorry.”

Harding’s grin was tipped with desire. “I’m not.”

She glared at him. “That can’t happen again.” She couldn’t get involved with anyone, him in

particular. Or rather, shifters in general.

“Uh-huh.” He sat up, bare feet coming to rest on the ground.

“I mean it.”

“Uh-huh.” He stood and moved toward her, crouching down until they were eye level. “You

keep telling yourself that, sweet. In the meantime, I’ll keep kissing you. If you tell me no, and mean it,

I’ll leave you alone.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she fought the urge to nuzzle his

palm. She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. “I can scent you, Tess. I know when you’re

lying. Don’t ever forget that.”

Tess huffed. “I don’t want you kissing me, Harding.”

“Liar.”

She wasn’t gonna tell him he was right. Really. Stupid cocky jerk. Instead of telling him to go

take a flying leap off a cliff, she kept her mouth shut.

“So, do you want to tell me what happened in my head? Who’s decided that I’d be better off

gone?”

“Um…” Right. She knew there was something she was supposed to have been doing.

Something about the person attacking Harding. A person who felt like Millie yet was decidedly male.

A person she was pretty sure she knew from her present and not her past.

And it broke her heart.

Chapter Four

“Ask me anything, I’ve always got the answer. Got a headache? Orgasm. Guy being a dick?

Tell him to drop and give you sixty minutes of tongue-land and an orgasm. Work stressful?

Orgasm. See? Told you I have all the answers.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride

and President and Founder of the National Maya Knows Everything Club.

Harding awakened the moment Tess stepped out of her room. He wasn’t sleeping outside her

door, nor was he anywhere near her refuge, but something tied them together now. The something that

brought memories of his childhood to the surface and the something that allowed him to sense some of

her emotions. He didn’t for a second think the link was left in place on purpose, but he cherished it

just the same.

He glanced at his clock, noting that it was just past two in the morning, and rolled from bed.

He slipped out of his room and tracked Tess through the compound. He still wasn’t happy about the

tension between the women, and had resolved to always be near his mate. Especially since Stone was

no longer in residence and couldn’t help him keep a closer eye on Tess. There was a strain between

Tess and Jackie that went beyond hatred and edged into obsessive rage.

And they still hadn’t figured out who’d attacked him.

He followed her scent past the kitchen and continued down the near-black hallway, hunting

her through the compound. It took only a few more twists and turns to locate her in the living room.

The low light cast by the television allowed him to see her snuggled in one of the oversized chairs,

and he didn’t waste any time going to her. His bare feet were silent on the plush carpet, but he knew

she sensed him nonetheless.

Her gaze remained on the TV, giving him the opportunity to look his fill. With her knees

tucked to her chest, her shorts rode high, exposing her curvaceous thighs. The glimpse of her legs and

pale skin had him imagining what it’d be like to have her wrapped around him. He’d sink deep into

her heat while she hugged his hips.

Her tank top exposed more than it hid, the neckline low and giving him an eyeful of her

abundant cleavage. Now he envisioned cupping her mounds, kneading her, and plucking her nipples

before sucking them into his mouth. His cock hardened in his loose pants, and he willed his arousal to

recede. He’d barely been able to get her alone since they’d shared those minutes in her room two

days ago. Now, any moment he got within twenty feet of her, she ran.

He allowed himself one last look at her body, one last second of imagining them naked and

tangled in sheets. He’d lick every inch of her, taste her and lap at her cream and…

Her sudden gasp reminded him that the connection probably went two ways. Shoving back his

need, he resumed his travels, slowly padding closer to her. When he reached her side, she gave him

her attention, eyes wide and pupils dilated. He could say that they appeared near black due to the low

lighting, but he chose to believe that it was because she was just as aroused as him.

Without a word he reached for her, tugged her from the chair and took her place before easing

her into his lap. He couldn’t do anything about his hardness, the way it pressed against her lush ass,

but he wasn’t about to apologize for his body’s reactions to her.

“What are we watching?” He murmured against her ear, lips brushing the soft skin, and he

smiled at the subtle shiver that wracked her body. At least now he knew she wasn’t unaffected.

Tess sighed and slumped into him. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

Harding slid his hand along her biceps, noting the small goose bumps that rose over her skin.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She snorted. “Liar.”

He squirmed in his seat but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want something like the truth to

disrupt his chance to have Tess in his arms. A truth that would probably send her running in the other

direction. “Let’s just find something to watch.”

Tess elbowed him. “You’ve been following me like a puppy. I wanna know why.”

He grunted. “If I’m anything, it’s a kitten. But I definitely haven’t been following you.” He

ignored the tang of the lie on his tongue along with the roaring protest that came from his lion.

Tess turned focused on him, or rather, his nose. Then she flicked the tip. “Does your nose

grow like Pinocchio when you lie?” She rubbed the tip with her finger. “It doesn’t look longer.

Maybe it depends on the size of the lie.” She thumped it again. “Lie to me.”

“Tess…”

She ignored the warning in his tone. “Come on, you can do it.” Another flick. “Lie to me.”

Harding dropped his head back and fought to control his body. The woman didn’t realize what

she was doing by taunting him. Since she’d been avoiding him, the cat was on edge. Now she was

teasing him with her impish smile and lush body. Damn it. His lion urged him to get closer to Tess

and strip her bare until they were skin to skin. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if that’d be enough. He

wanted to crawl inside her, become one with her in every way possible.

“Harding?” Poke. Poke.

“Fine.” He raised his head and focused on her, gaze intent on those sparkling green eyes.

“You’re the most hideous woman I’ve ever seen. I can’t stand being in the same room as you. I hate

each and every one of your curves.” While the lies flowed from his lips, he let the real truth shine

through. He knew without a doubt that his lion was peering through his eyes, orbs glowing the palest

blue with the beast’s presence. “I don’t know how I’m managing to suffer having you in my lap. The

last thing I’d ever want to do is kiss you again. Or strip you down and run my hands and lips over

every inch of your body. And I most definitely don’t want to make love to you.”

All the color in Tess’s face vanished. “Harding, that’s not funny…” She squirmed, tugging

against his hold, but he refused to release her. Not when he finally had a captive audience. She was

right: he had been following her, hunting for an opportunity to get her alone and talk to her. God, he’d

turned into one of those men who wanted to talk.

“Lemme go.” The words came through gritted teeth.

“No.” He couldn’t have suppressed the snarl if he’d wanted to. He wrapped his other arm

around her, holding her close. She continued to struggle, grunts and growls accompanying her

wriggling. “Look at me, Tess.” He shook her ever so slightly, conscious of his superior strength and

her semi-humanity. Well, her temporary semi-humanity. “Look. At. Me.”

She finally gave him her attention, a hint of tears swimming in her eyes, and his heartbeat

stuttered. Letting go with one hand, he brushed aside an errant strand of hair and tucked it behind her

ear.

It’d taken him two days to get her alone. Two days of hunting and cursing when yet another

problem was brought to his attention. Thankfully, his head was no longer battered by whomever Tess

had banished, but he needed to remember to ask Tess about who’d been inside it. Later. Right now, he

had other more important things to deal with. Namely, his mate’s growing tears.

“You asked me to lie, and I did. Period.” He searched her features, looking for any hint that

she accepted his words. Nothing yet. “I conned your bedroom key out of Stone so I could be with you.

I kissed you because I want you. I follow you because I can’t stand being away from you. And more

than anything, I want to make love to you, Tess.” A tear escaped and slid over her cheek. He brushed

it away with his thumb, a bit of his heart breaking at how upset he’d made her. “That’s the truth sweet.

Every word. If you don’t want to hear it, I won’t say it again.”

Tess sniffled. “Okay.”

“Okay, what? Okay you believe me or okay don’t say it again?”

“Okay, I believe you, but I don’t think I can hear it again.” She took a deep breath, her breasts

straining against her small top, and he forced his gaze to remain intent on her face. “Someday, you’ll

find your mate and I’ll be barely a memory. Once things settle, I’ll hunt up a nice town where no one

knows me and have a nice, boring life. I’m not meant to be with a shifter, Harding. Ever.”

There was a hard finality in her tone and his lion roared in displeasure, clawing at him and

demanding that he overpower Tess. She was his mate. She would be with him. That nice town would

be Ridgeville.

Sensing the overwhelming pain that seemed to wrap around her body, he swallowed the

words and simply nodded. “Okay, sweet. Let’s watch some late night TV for a while then.” She

pulled away from him, moving as if to stand, and he tugged her back to him. “Lemme just hold you,

okay?”

“Harding…” She whined.

“Just a little.”

With a grump, she settled back against him, wiggling into place once again, and he smothered

the moan that built in his chest. She had to feel his cock beneath her ass, his length fully hard and

trapped between them. Yet she didn’t pull away. That action, or lack of action, gave him a spark of

hope.

Maybe she wasn’t as unaffected. Maybe…

The TV glowed in the darkness, images changing as she flicked through the various channels.

Every so often the rapid flick from one to another would pause and Tess would smack the remote

against her palm. “Damn thing.” Another few shows sped by and then it stopped once again. “It hasn’t

worked right since I whacked Jackie with it.”

Harding stiffened. “When was that?”

She pointed the remote at the TV. “Huh?” More shows passed by. “Yesterday maybe? She

was being pissy.”

“About what?”

Tess shrugged. “Same bitch, different shit.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her flippant response worried him, and he made a mental note to talk with security. He knew

cameras were set up within the common areas of the compound. Actually, they were in every room,

but Stone had the ones in the private rooms turned off. The women had gone through enough. They

didn’t need a bunch of men spying on them like Freedom had.

She didn’t look at him, but he sensed her new tension until it felt as if he held a rigid block of

cement instead of cradling the relaxed woman of moments before. Harding stroked her arm, gently

petting her until some of that tightness left her body. “You’ll let me know if there’s a problem? I told

you that I’m here to protect you from people on the outside and inside, Tess.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything, just kept flicking through the channels. He let her have

her silence. Despite her protest, he’d made a little headway with her. He’d stated his desires. She

may have rebuffed him, but she was still in his arms and wasn’t shying from his erection.

The remote stopped once again and a masculine groan followed by a feminine gasp brought

his attention to the TV.

A TV showing lovely, late-night, soft-core porn.

And no rapid slap of the remote against Tess’s palm followed. Nope, but the delicate, sticky-

sweet scent of her arousal did drift toward him, taunting him and his cat.

Which brought Harding to one conclusion: God hated him.

*

Oh, someone hated her. Probably God. Or else the Devil loved her. Yeah, that could be it.

Now that she’d told Harding in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want him, she’d found porn. Porn

that merely shoved Tess over the edge, allowing her desire to rear its ugly head. The expansion of

Harding’s chest told her that he’d caught the scent of her arousal, and her cheeks heated. Damn.

Damn. Damn.

She opened her mouth to… What? Tell him to stop breathing?

Before she uttered a single syllable, a soft moan and whispered words drew her attention to

the screen. Oh, God. She needed to close her eyes and never open them again.

The couple was nude, the strong lines of the man’s muscles straining against his skin. A thin

woman, void of any of Tess’s curves, sat on the edge of a bed with legs splayed wide. This wasn’t

hard-core porn, but something that was run on premium cable, so they weren’t shown anything

explicit. But she could imagine. With the way the man crouched between the woman’s thighs, the

movements of his head and arms, she pictured him licking her, sucking her clit and sliding his fingers

into her pussy.

Tess squirmed, body growing warmer by the second. Why now? Why did she have to land on

porn while wrapped in Harding’s arms?

Part of her acknowledged that she could smack the remote and move on. Except… The devil

in her wanted to watch just a tiny bit longer.

So she did.

Harding was motionless beneath her, his breathing the only hint that he was alive. His hands

remained in place, firm without hurting or squeezing her. But his cock… It throbbed against her ass,

pulsing and pushing. He’d been hard from the moment she was pulled onto his lap, but he thickened

further with the appearance of the nude bodies.

The lithe woman slid her palm over her flat stomach, venturing higher and higher until she

reached her breast. She squeezed and kneaded the small mound, occasionally pinching her nipple. A

low moan filled the air, soft on the gentle breeze from the fan, and Tess couldn’t decide if it came

from her or the TV. She swallowed hard. Please let it not be me.

The actress looked nothing like Tess. There were no curves or plump rolls revealing that she

carried a few (or dozen) extra pounds. But she could imagine… She could imagine herself as Harding

saw her: lush and beautiful. She pretended she was the woman at the end of the bed, body spread and

welcoming Harding’s ministrations. He’d lap and lick her, feast on her pussy like she were the

sweetest treat and then…

And then she remembered that she didn’t want him or his teasing smiles and hunky muscles.

Nope. She didn’t want him, or any other man, be they human or shifter. Especially a shifter. Things

could someday get out of hand, and he could bite her and then she’d Change and then…

Then they’d wonder who was worse: Tess or her father.

Closing her eyes, she raised the remote, intent on smacking it against her palm so she could

change the channel. Nothing good would come of fantasies and what ifs. Nothing.

Harding’s thick, strong arms tightened around her. His hands shifted and stroked her until she

realized that she no longer sat across his lap, but with her back against his chest. Her legs rested on

either side of his thighs, leaving her open and spread wide.

No. No no no no. She wiggled and shifted, doing her best to bring her knees together. She was

sure the scent of her cream filled the room enough without her baring all. Plus, she didn’t want to sit

like the woman on the screen, the actress being driven wild by the actor’s mouth on her pussy. No,

she didn’t want that. At all.

A low shush followed by “easy” ceased her struggles. She froze, waiting to hear what else

Harding had to say. Because as much as she didn’t want him, she truly did. Bad idea or not. Claw

tipped fingers scraped over the tops of her thighs, leaving pink welts in their wake. A shiver of desire

snaked its way along her spine, that hint of pain merely adding to her need for him.

Tess tightened her hold on the remote and brought it down, intent on stopping this…this. Only

one of those deadly hands wrapped around her wrist, holding her in a gentle immovable grasp. He

traced her inner thigh with his free hand, his nails coming closer and closer to her pussy.

“Just give me a few minutes.” He grew even nearer until barely an inch separated his fingers

from her heat. “You won’t let me have you, but let me pretend for just a few minutes.”

“Harding…” She couldn’t bite back her whine.

“Shh…”

So she remained quiet, kept her mouth shut while the woman on the screen rocked against her

lover’s mouth.

And if Tess mimicked the woman’s movements in barely perceptible increments, rubbing her

ass against Harding’s length, neither of them said anything.

She didn’t utter a sound when the actress begged for more as her small, pink nipples

hardened.

And if Tess’s grew taut as well, pressing against her thin tank top until the nubs were easily

seen, neither of them said anything.

Then the woman slid her hand down between her legs, disappearing from sight, but Tess

could imagine what she was doing.

And if Tess’s arm twitched, jerking toward her pussy so she could rub her aching clit, neither

of them said anything.

Above all, when her pussy clenched and released more of Tess’s cream, the scent permeating

the air, neither of them said anything.

A shudder overtook her, and a bolt of arousal caused her limbs to jerk. Her clit twitched,

silently begging for a touch that wasn’t her own. She’d never been stroked and caressed by hands that

didn’t belong to her, and Harding’s closeness left her with a big case of “what if.”

Warm, moist air bathed her neck. “See something you like, Tess?”

She did. Oh, God, she did. She wanted to be that woman writhing in pleasure instead of the

scared little thing she’d turned out to be. She wanted…

One of those tormenting hands ghosted over her mound, teasing her weeping pussy. Cloth still

separated them, but the heat of his palm cupping the juncture of her thighs was unmistakable.

She was going to push him away. Any moment now.

Then he rubbed her. His hand stroked her in gentle, unhurried movements. Up, then down, then

up again. He didn’t try and delve beneath the fabric of her shorts, didn’t push things any further. He

didn’t have to. No, not when that foreign touch was enough to get her panting. No one had ever

explored her body, stroked her pussy or made her feel like a desirable woman.

No one but Harding.

As the woman on the screen writhed and begged, he increased his pace. The pressure

remained light, but his speed… Oh, God! He tormented and teased her, rubbing and stroking and

easing her toward the edge. If he kept this up, she’d come, she’d whimper and scream his name and

bring the entire compound running to her side.

She’d make him stop.

In a minute.

Because she was there, right there, right on the edge now and gathering her strength to fly off

the cliff. Her untried pussy clenched and tightened on air, seeming to scream for something thick and

long to slide inside.

Harding had something thick and long.

No, bad Tess.

Yes, she was very, very bad. She was wicked and naughty and…

So, very, very close to coming. The ultimate pleasure loomed, and she could almost grab the

sensations. One more caress, one more stroke of his fingers over her cotton-covered pussy, and then

she’d—

The hard scrape of a fang snapped her from her thoughts. The sharp tooth slid over her skin,

tracing the length of her neck, and then Harding nipped her earlobe. “Tess?”

That nip. Fuck. How could she be so stupid? She’d already risked enough by being near him,

but to get this close to ruining so many lives was just selfish. And stupid. Her wants and desires were

nothing compared to the safety of others.

Her arousal quickly died, deflating until no hint of the desire she’d felt existed any longer.

Then she jerked away from his teeth, the deadly points that carried both pleasure and so much pain for

shifters. “Lemme go, Harding.”

“You smell so good, sweet.” He nuzzled her, another slide of his fangs over her vulnerable

skin. It’d be so easy to let him take over, nibble and kiss her until she was willing to do whatever he

wanted. But then those nips would grow more insistent. She’d seen it often enough. Shifters derived

pleasure from biting while fucking, and she didn’t imagine Harding would be any different. Except

biting a human, even if she wasn’t purely human, would initiate the Change, and that could never, ever

be risked.

Because there was no telling what she’d become.

She’d kill herself before she released that level of crazy on the world.

Tess jerked against his hold, spine stiff while she struggled. “Lemme go.” Another yank.

“Now, Harding.”

“Tess?” He hesitated for a bare second, hold easing, and she took her chance.

With a great wrench, she bolted, putting as much space as she could between them. She

wrapped her arms around her stomach, suddenly feeling underdressed and exposed. The scent of her

cream still surrounded her, but it was muted, distant now that her desire had fled. “You need to go.”

Need abandoned his features, and confusion took its place. How she wanted to wipe those

lines away, assure him that everything was fine. But it wasn’t. She’d come so close… Even in the

low light she saw the thick length of his cock straining against his sweats. Her body wanted him,

craved him. That part of her that hinted at an inner-animal urged her to get closer, bathe in his flavors

and give in to his every desire. But the human half wouldn’t risk it.

“You need to go, Harding.” Her voice was hoarse, pain tainting the words, but she was

resolved. This wasn’t happening.

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. You just need to walk away.” She looked away from him, hating herself.

“That’s not happening.” He growled at her, but she refused to relent.

“Yes, it is,” she snapped. “I’m being noble, damn it. It’s better if this ends before it becomes

something more.” It wasn’t just the world she worried about. There was her heart to consider, too.

Already she was more drawn to him than any other. There was no denying the string that tethered them

together and grew shorter every day. Bit by bit, that length tugged until it was becoming harder to

avoid him.

He moved quicker than she thought possible. One moment he was across the room, and the

next he stood before her, over six feet of heavily-muscled male nearly touching her needy body. He

buried his hands in her hair, fisting the strands and yanking her head back until she was forced to meet

his gaze.

“It already is more.” His eyes paled even further. “It’s more and more and then even more.”

The smooth planes of his face sharpened. “I’m never letting you go.”

She tried to shake her head in denial, but he held her fast. “You have to.”

His fangs dropped, distorting the shape of his mouth. “Never.”

A shiver overtook her, a hint of fear and intense desire warring inside her body. No one had

ever wanted her like this. There’d been those that craved her, evil spurring their actions, but this was

something different. It was a primal call that her body wanted to answer. Badly.

“Harding…” His name left her lips with barely a whisper and she felt her resolve crumbling.

“You need to let me go. I know the Council has been looking for somewhere to send us. Tell them to

find me a small town, and then you need to let me go.”

It was better that way. For everyone. If she didn’t put space between them soon, she’d do

something very, very stupid.

He took a deep breath, his eyes drifting closed, and they stood there and let the seconds pass.

The soft moans and groans from the TV wrapped around them, but Tess didn’t truly connect

with the actions on the screen. She only had eyes for Harding, her entire attention focused on the

massive shifter. He could snap her neck without a thought, yet he held her so gently.

He didn’t look at her, his vision still masked by his lids, as he spoke. “Help me find the

person who attacked me and then see if you can figure out if any of the women are still Freedom

supporters. Do that, and I’ll send you away.”

Tess’s heart broke a little, a tiny piece splintering off from the whole, and she watched it fall

into the black void.

It was for the best.

But why did doing what’s best hurt so fucking much?

Chapter Five

“Angry people need hugs. Or to be stabbed with sharp objects.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima

of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who is more than a little bloodthirsty.

The next morning Tess dove into her task, intent on getting away from temptation as quickly as

possible.

If only temptation hadn’t decided to plop his too-sexy ass next to her.

Initially, she’d decided that the best place to interview the women was her bedroom. With the

reinforced walls to dampen the voices, it was the perfect spot to open herself up. There wasn’t a

threat of being overwhelmed by the compound residents.

Then Harding had strolled in, his massive body seeming to take up half of her small room. He

stood just inside the doorway, wide shoulders barely clearing the frame, and simply stared at her.

Stared as if she were the sun, moon, and stars in one. Yet as quickly as the emotions flitted across his

face, they disappeared into an indifferent mask.

That was good, right? Because she didn’t want to see the desire from last night. She didn’t

want to see him craving her like she craved him. Nope. Not at all.

Someone needed to tell her heart that.

Tess moved deeper into the room, putting more space between them as she fought her body’s

desire. It’d be so easy to give in to him. So very, very easy. And so very, very stupid.

She padded to the bed and settled on the soft mattress, leaving the desk chair to him. Or the

wall. Or anywhere other than next to her. She’d have to share the bed with her first interviewee, but it

was better than sharing it with Harding. Naughty, dirty things happened in beds. If he was laying with

her, it would be mere seconds before they were naked.

Wiping her sweat-dampened hands on her jeans, she fought against the nervous flutter of her

stomach. “Harding? What brings you here?”

Okay, that was the lamest thing to say. Ever.

The indifferent mask melted into one of pure anger. The hard lines of his cheeks joined the

solid white slash of his lips. “You’re meeting with Jackie this morning.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I doubt she’s responsible for what happened to you. She’s not that

strong. But it doesn’t mean she’s not a supporter. Her anger is…”

“She hates you.” Harding released a mirthless laugh.

“Does she?” Tess raised a brow. “Or is it a cover?”

“You said—”

“I said that she hated me because of our past.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t mean she doesn’t

believe in the cause. You forget that I got shuttled around. There’s no telling what could have

happened when I wasn’t present. Hating me and supporting Freedom aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Harding remained silent, his eyes no longer focused on her, but distant. She practically saw

his thoughts tumbling through his mind, their low buzz stroking her consciousness in a vibrating

caress. She couldn’t manage to snag a single one, but they rolled around in his head.

She let her gaze wander over the rest of him, noting the tension in his limbs as well as the

bags beneath his eyes. He hadn’t slept last night either. Good. She’d been torn apart all night, her

body demanding that she hunt him like prey while her mind screamed that it couldn’t happen. There

was too much risk, too much at stake. Selfishness had no place in her life. Not now, not ever.

His gaze finally snapped to her, his mouth opening to speak, but he swallowed the words

when Jackie pushed past him. Well, pushed was a bit of an exaggeration. Jackie shoved at Harding,

but she barely managed to dislodge his arm, his limb shifting just enough for the twig of a woman to

slip by.

Jackie had her trademark sneer in place, accentuated by blazing gold eyes. A shiver of dread

tinged with a dash of fear overtook Tess, but she shoved it down. Fear had no place when it came to

dealing with Jackie. Hell, it had no place at all in a compound filled to the brim with shifters.

“Why am I here?” The woman flexed her hands, and the slow emergence of lengthened, sharp

nails was easy to see.

Tess cleared her mind, shoved at the rage that threatened to overwhelm her. “With what

happened to Harding and—”

The man in question cut her off. “Because the Council ordered it. Now sit and do what Tess

says.” His tone brooked no argument.

That didn’t stop Jackie from glaring and baring her inch-long fangs at him. With a hiss, she

moved away from Harding. Jackie inched around the room, finally settling in the office chair in front

of the desk. The woman didn’t say another word as she glared at Harding.

Tess took a deep, cleansing breath and then turned her attention to Jackie. Hands outstretched,

she approached the woman, refusing to let her trepidation show through. Mentally, Tess was more

powerful. Physically, not so much. Touching Jackie would put Tess at the other woman’s mercy.

Not something she was looking forward to.

The glow in Jackie’s eyes intensified with Tess’s approach, and the cloying stench of

anticipation and bloodlust hit her, blanketing her in the gooey scent. Yet Tess continued. She had a

goal, a purpose. She simply had to scan four women, find Freedom supporters and Harding’s attacker,

and she’d be free. So simple and so complex at the same time.

Harding’s massive body stepped between her and Jackie, cutting her off from her destination.

“What are you doing?” He snarled at her, and she jerked back in surprise.

“You wanted me to scan her, so I’m scanning her. I need to touch her to dig—”

“The fuck you will!” Jackie fought to come around Harding, claw-tipped fingers reaching for

Tess. “I’ll kill you first, you stupid cun—”

“Enough!” The roar was loud enough to shake the room’s reinforced walls.

Shrugging his shoulder, Harding brushed off Jackie’s touch, forcing the woman to stumble

back into the chair. An oomph came from Jackie, and Harding spun toward her. A low whisper filled

the air, Harding furiously hissing at the other shifter, but the words were too low for Tess to hear.

Finally, he straightened and turned aside, allowing her to see a now pale-faced Jackie.

“I don’t want you touching her.” Harding snarled the words.

Tess sighed. “It’s necessary. I can’t get deep enough unless I—”

Jackie curled her lip but remained silent.

A low growl rumbled through the room. The deep baritone dug beneath Tess’s skin and sent

her bones rattling. “What about through me?”

She furrowed her brow. “Through you?”

“I’ll touch her, and you can touch me.” The words were thrust past lips that were now more

animal than man.

“I’ve never tried…” She let the idea roll through her, thinking on the intricacies of navigating

one mind to get to another. It wasn’t as simple as opening a door and padding through a room. She had

her animal tendencies to overcome, and she had to hope that Harding’s two halves didn’t fight against

her presence as she crept into Jackie. Coupled with Harding’s attraction to her, she wasn’t sure if

they’d be alive when all was said and done. “I don’t know. You’ll be so open …”

You’ll be open to her. She’ll be able to see you. She’ll be able to look at your every memory

while I search through her. She’ll see your parent’s deaths and your suffering and…

Harding snared Jackie’s wrist, wrapping his fingers around the slim bones. The woman fought

and jerked against his hold, yet he didn’t move an inch.

With her secured, he held out his other hand for Tess. “Do it.”

Tess stared at his hand, noting the crisscross of scars that decorated his skin. Memories that

she’d been suppressing with all her might—Harding’s memories—threatened to overwhelm her. And

they’d been so, so detailed. The stench of his parent’s blood as it coated the asphalt… The burning

gas and oil from the engine… The heavy dirt of the forest that rested beneath the overturned car…

He’d been alive, crawling and stumbling toward his parents. He still walked on his left leg.

The break was nothing, even if the bone nearly broke through his skin. He hadn’t recognized pain.

There’d been nothing more important than his mom and dad and helping them and…boom.

She hadn’t had the opportunity to see much more after that. Not with the renewed attack and…

A warm hand enveloping hers snared her attention. “Do it, Tess.”

Tess stared into those glacier eyes, searching for true permission. Words were nothing to her.

It was in the eyes…

And she found what she needed. Acceptance of what she would find, what they would go

through together, and trust that they would emerge whole on the other side. Trust. A simple word, but

so complex when she saw it as something physical.

She hoped she deserved it.

Dear God: please don’t let me fry anyone’s brain. Please.

*

Please let her not fry my brain. Please.

That was his last thought before Tess took over. Suddenly her entire presence filled him,

sliding into every part of him, crawling into each nook and cranny. Much to the joy of his lion. The

beast bounded to her the moment she materialized, rubbing his scent all over her ethereal body. It

rumbled and purred, head nudging her hip as he moved around her. The cat’s fangs scraped her wrists

and he nudged her palm with his muzzle, encouraging her to pet him.

Needy beast.

Tess’s tinkling laugh filled him with joy. “You’re just jealous.”

Harding didn’t deny it. True, the cat was part of him, and any affection Tess gave the feline

was affection to him, but it was…different. She was snuggling the beast, not the man. After last night,

he wasn’t sure if she wanted the man. And that irked the hell out of him.

The lion grumbled, nipping and tugging on Tess. Beneath it all, Harding sensed a word

emerging from the beast’s mouth, a single syllable that would send the world crashing down around

him. She’d already told him that mating and men weren’t in her future. How would she react to

finding out she was his mate? Because when all was said and done, she’d be his. He hadn’t had

anything of his own to love in so long… Tess was his, damn it. His.

A low growl reached him… Mmmmmiiiii—

Tess? Jackie is getting impatient. She’s fighting… He let his words drift into the ether. A

small lie, but enough to pull her away from the lion, who was poised to ruin things even further.

“Right.” She nodded. “Just hold on. I have to leave a hint of me here, but I’ll move on to

Jackie. You’ll…” She paused and nibbled her lower lip. “You’ll get a bit of feedback. Try to

remember that it’s not your memories filtering through, but hers. I’m not sure what I’ll find, but it

could be…bad.”

With that, she faded, floating body thinning until barely a hint of her remained.

And then he waited, time ticking past as his lion paced around what was left of Tess. The cat

was not pleased with her sliding away, leaving herself vulnerable to the other woman. It knew of the

attacks on Tess, the way the shifter had tried to harm what belonged to them. No, it detested Jackie

and more than once had urged Harding to do something about the woman. Its recommendation was to

eat her, but the cat would have been happy with killing her outright.

An odd sensation overtook him, like ants crawling over his skin, pricking him with every step.

He shuddered and shivered, wishing the feelings away, but instead the sensations grew. Then the

thoughts came, the experiences, the horrors…

A stranger backhanded him, a leer on his face, and he wiped away the spot of blood that

escaped his lip. Then it was rape, the pain and agony of being violated…

Jackie.

This time a true beating, bones breaking and skin bursting with each strike. His inner-beast

howled but remained restrained by…someone.

That had been the first attack. The encounter just before Tess’s appearance changed both of

their lives.

Whispered voices invaded, endearments, sweet nothings, coos and pet names. This was a hint

of happiness in the blackness of Jackie’s mind. Large hands stroked him, and he brought his gaze to…

The memory faded before he could glimpse the person that had made her happy.

It was the only glimpse of joy that Harding received.

More of Jackie’s past assaulted him. Conversations flitted to him as if on fast forward, the

words were recognizable yet not.

Love. Hate. Tess. Die. Pleasure. Pain.

It all spun round and round, his memories seeming to twine with Jackie’s until he couldn’t

separate one from the other.

Jackie’s beating became his, yet different.

He recalled lying on the ground, surrounded by his pride, his uncle now Prime. They beat him.

Shouting that his father couldn’t protect him any longer. He was an abomination. White cats were

weak, didn’t deserve to live. Claws sliced through his skin with exacting precision, and the bearers

left him to die.

Then it switched to Alistair looking into his eyes and flashing an evil grin as he called him a

whore and spit in his face.

No. That wasn’t right. Alistair hadn’t been there. That must have come from Jackie. And they

hadn’t left him. Not really. They’d tied him down, cutting him over and over for days until…

The scene tumbled into another… Alistair screaming, ranting and raving and threatening…

Tess. Blood tumbled from his mate’s lips, and he was filled with smug satisfaction. No, he wouldn’t

feel that way, but Jackie would. Harding’s cat roared and snarled at that memory, demanding that he

do something.

But he couldn’t. Not until Tess returned and released them all. Then he could turn on the

woman who had harmed their mate.

More of the past spun by, the tone gradually changing from fear and pain to a mixture of hate,

rage, and joy. Images of Jackie meeting with Alistair and others came to him. The woman no longer

cowering in fear, but standing beside those that had harmed her. Triumph filled her.

Ah. They’d come to the end, the heart of the matter, and Harding briefly wondered if he was

interpreting what he was seeing correctly.

Then his world transformed, swirled and showed him proof of the woman’s allegiance. Jackie

had been present for Maddy’s abduction, hidden in the shadows. She’d tormented Elise while the fox

was with Freedom. She’d even been in the farmhouse where Deuce had been held, had eventually

gone to Alistair’s side after Elly had killed the polar bear.

The woman was neck deep in Freedom’s evil illegal affairs, and now she’d be handled. Had

she lived through a tormented past? Of course. But she’d also sided with Alistair and furthered the

man’s crimes.

Tess. Come back.

“Just a minute.” Her voice was so strained, so soft in his turbulent mind.

Let go, Tess.

“Just a—”

He felt himself losing her, the ghost-like outline of her body fading even further from his view.

The lion roared, shaking his entire world with the force. The cat scratched and clawed at him,

demanding that Harding take action to secure what belonged to them. He was failing, not protecting

their mate, letting her be hurt, and he wouldn’t have it.

Harding growled. She was stubborn, and he knew she wasn’t about to come back without a

fight. The beast was in agreement, their thoughts one. It nudged what was left of Tess and took her

nearly gone wrist into its mouth. The cat looked to him, pleading with him to get their mate to return.

She had ferreted out the information they needed. There was no sense in delaying.

Now. He couldn’t have withheld the command to save his life.

“Just—”

You’re my mate, and I want your happy ass out of her right now! The lion added his own

roar and bit down on Tess’s wrist, yanking on her ethereal body. Had the woman been whole, the cat

would have snapped the bones in two with ease.

All thoughts stilled, a void of nothingness wrapping around it all and sucking them into a

vacuum. He felt the snap of Tess returning and then slipping out of him. True consciousness returned,

and he opened eyes he didn’t remember closing.

To his right, Jackie sat in the chair, eyes glowing amber and a hiss escaping her lips. The

snarling growl filled the air.

To his left, he found a dazed Tess staring at him, her eyes wide yet unseeing.

“Mate?” The word was thin and reedy.

“Mate.” He jerked his head in a quick nod, confirming his answer.

“Oh.” With that, her lashes fluttered and she collapsed into herself, body going limp.

Harding snatched her to him before she could hit the ground and he held her to his side with

one arm. It was then he realized he still held fast to Jackie, the female now reaching toward Tess with

razor-sharp claws. Without hesitation, he used his strength to yank her to the side, flinging her tense

body against the opposite wall. He bellowed to the guards outside the room, his roar echoing off the

thick walls, and one of the men burst through the door.

“Sir?”

Harding waved toward a crumpled Jackie. “Secure her.”

“Sir?” This time it truly was a question, a reaffirming of his order, because they’d all been

careful of the women since their arrival. These were the battered and abused and were to be treated

with kid gloves. With Jackie, he was over that shit.

“Now. She stays in her room. Two guards outside the door.” Harding didn’t spare a glance

for the other shifter, too concerned over Tess. More and more of her weight rested against him. The

moment a hissing and spitting Jackie was yanked from the room, he swung his mate into his arms.

Careful of his precious cargo, he slid her onto the bed, easing her over until she was near the

wall and farthest from the door. As soon as he had her situated, he crawled in beside her and then

tugged her against him. She was passed out—again—and he wouldn’t leave her until she woke.

Holding her after she passed out seemed to be becoming a habit.

* * *

Waking up in Harding’s arms seemed to have become a habit.

His scent surrounded Tess, the earthy smells of musk and man enveloping her in their

comforting embrace. She snuffled and moaned, burying her face against his chest. Muscles shifted and

tensed beneath her cheek, but otherwise he remained motionless. She gave herself a moment to enjoy

his embrace before all hell broke loose. She knew there were things to be said, arguments to be had,

but she wanted to delay as long as possible.

She snuggled closer, aligning her curves to his hard planes, and sank into him. He was so hard

and tough, so grumbly and growly, but she’d seen it all now. The good and bad—mostly bad—had

played out before her as she dug through Jackie’s past. She’d never chanced a connection like they’d

shared. While it hadn’t gone well, it hadn’t rendered anyone brain dead either. At least, she didn’t

think so.

Those strong arms tightened ever so slightly around her, giving her a gentle hug, and she knew

her time was running short. She could avoid him for only so long. Unfortunately.

He stroked her back, sliding his arm along the length of her spine. Up and down, he soothed

her, petting her until she felt like a happy kitten, just on the verge of releasing a purr. Instead, she gave

him one last nuzzle and then sighed, easing away from him. Except he wasn’t having it. He held her

tighter, not giving her the opportunity to separate them.

“Harding…” She pushed again.

“Nope. If I let you go, you’ll run, and I think we’ve got a few things to talk about.”

“I’m thinking no. M’kay, buh-bye.” She shoved at him, a hint of panic aiding her movements.

Talking was bad. Talking would reveal feelings, and she’d had enough of baring her soul for the day.

Suddenly, Harding rolled them, placing his much larger body above hers and easily trapping

her beneath him. “I’m thinking yes, Tess.”

She snorted. “You’re a poet and didn’t know it.” She poked at his shoulder. “Now, lemme go,

and we can forget…everything.”

But…but his pale blue eyes darkened, his expression turning serious while he stared down at

her. With a delicate brush of his fingertips, he nudged aside wayward strands of her hair. The barely-

there touch sent a frisson of heat down her spine, and she couldn’t have suppressed the soft shiver that

raced through her if her life depended on it.

“Tess…”

Why, why, why did she have to find a mate? Shifters spent their lives looking for their other

halves, and she’d always prayed that no one would want her. Not with the risk of what she could

become after mating. There was no telling… Tess’s heart broke, sharp bolts of pain overwhelming

her as it splintered and cracked. Yes, she could love this man, this shifter who’d taken care of her

every time she got into trouble. But she couldn’t allow it.

Blinking away her tears, she huffed. “You won’t give up, will you?”

“No.” Harding’s weight was soothing, his strength tempered with the tenderness he showed.

“You said you’d let me go. You said I had to find who hurt you and female Freedom

supporters, and then you’d let me go. I haven’t done both yet, but I will—”

“I lied.” And he didn’t look the least bit apologetic about it, either.

Mirroring his movements from moments before, she nudged aside an errant lock of his hair

and ignored the new stab of pain in her chest when he nuzzled her hand. He rubbed his rough cheek

against her palm. A deep, rumbling purr came from within his chest, the sound vibrating and filling

her. It stroked her nerves, bringing them to life, and that snippet of a beast within her took notice. The

animalistic side of her perked up and shoved at her to take this man, make him hers. It demanded she

reach for him, for a happiness that was assured by throwing herself into his arms.

God hated her, had taken his anger for her father and decided to rain it down on Tess. He

dangled a pristine future before her, knowing she couldn’t have a bit of it. This time, the tears refused

to be stemmed. She yanked her hand away and pounded a fist against his chest. She wanted Harding,

more than anything before, and yet she couldn’t have him.

Tess sobbed, the sound wrenched from her soul, and she hit him again. Over and over, she

struck his chest. Sorrow, good God, more agony than she’d ever let herself feel, encompassed her.

Harding never moved, never twitched as she pounded on him, venting her rage at her mother

for succumbing to Alistair’s charms, at Alistair for making her what she was, at the world for merely

existing. Her anger overwhelmed everything, burying her in an avalanche of crushing pain.

Dimly, she heard him, heard his whispered, soothing words. Baby… Shh… I’ve got you…

Never gonna let you go, sweet…

That last simply spurred on more salty tears, the moisture trailing down her cheeks. Her throat

hurt, throbbing in time with her pounding heart.

“Harding…” She croaked out his name and then whimpered. Unclenching her fists, she pulled

him to her. She urged his weight more fully against hers, holding him close as she cried into his

shoulder. He remained atop her, sheltering and protecting her from the world. Those low assurances

never stopped, the sounds merely a hint louder now that his face was pressed against her neck. His

alluring scent surrounded her, blanketing her in comfort. Now, this second, she truly felt safe.

Soft lips caressed her neck, the kiss not quite chaste but not quite more. It embodied comfort

and a hint of wanting without pressuring her. He did it again, shifting his target and caressing a new

spot of skin. Her ragged nerves were soothed by him, the frazzled strings settling with each new

touch. Another kiss, and then another, relaxed her body in slow increments.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, how long Harding sheltered her from the world. It

seemed no part of her neck, and eventually shoulder, remained untouched. It wasn’t until her tears

dried, and the shudders of residual pain eased, that he pulled back and looked down at her once

again.

His body vibrated with restrained…something. She couldn’t quite discern his expression.

Anger? Fear? Affection? More?

Quiet continued to reign as their gazes remained locked.

Then he spoke. “I know you’ve got a lot going on up here, some of it your own past and

probably a good dose of my own, but you need to know one thing, Tess McCain: you are mine.”

“You don’t understand.”

Harding shook his head. “No, I don’t. And I won’t pretend that I do. But, I’m gonna prove to

you that you can trust me. That I’m someone you can count on not to hurt you and that nothing, nothing,

matters but you and me. Not this damned compound or the Council. I’m gonna protect you, Tess, even

if it’s from your stubborn self.” He leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss. “You’re mine, maybe not

in truth just yet, but you are.”

She wasn’t sure if her battered heart could take much more, could endure the truth of his

words, but he kept going.

“You’ve spent your whole life on your own, fighting against the world that’s kept you captive,

and now we’re asking for more from you.”

“I don’t mind.” Not really.

“I do. We’re not doing this again. The Council has other Sensitives that can meet with these

women.”

Tess grimaced. “They won’t be as good.”

“Probably not, but I can’t go through this again, and neither can you. You slept longer than last

time, and my cat is going crazy with the need to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”

Yes, God hated her and decided to torment her with what she couldn’t have. “I’m okay—”

“I need this, Tess. I know you’re not ready to mate. I don’t claim to understand, but I can deal

with it. But only if I can get you out of here. I need you in my den, under my care, and surrounded by a

pride I can trust. I’m gonna take you home and let others deal with this mess.”

More tears, these gentler, but no less annoying. Home. She hadn’t ever had one of those. Bare

concrete walls had been the only home she’d ever known. “Home?”

“Home. Our home. I’ve got a nice little house near the pride home, and I’ve already called the

Prime and given him a ‘heads up’ that I’ll be returning with you.”

His tone warned her not to argue, but she couldn’t hold her tongue. “Harding, Alistair—”

“Is dead, and no one in the pride blames you for what he’s done.” His gaze hardened. “You’re

coming home with me. We’re gonna build a life together, and when you trust me, we’ll mate.” He

waggled his eyebrows. “That doesn’t mean I won’t steal a few kisses and anything else I can get

away with between now and then.”

Heat suffused her cheeks, the thoughts of what they could do without going as far as the mating

bite slithering through her mind. She may not have experience, but she’d seen enough consensual sex

through the years to imagine what it’d be like to be possessed by the massive shifter.

A quick rap of knuckles against her door forestalled anything else that may have happened.

In a single, flowing move, Harding rolled and stood tall between her and the door. His fists

flexed once, and claws replaced his human fingers. He bounced on the balls of his feet as if prepped

to attack whoever came into her room. “Enter.”

The door slowly eased open, cracking the tiniest bit until a head peeked around the corner.

Tess easily recognized Ben. In an instant, Harding relaxed, but his claws remained. “Sir, just heard

from the strip. The plane from Ridgeville is ready and waiting.”

With that, the door snapped shut and Ben’s heavy tread rapidly retreated.

“Ben? Plane?” She huffed. “How long was I out?”

“Two days. The worst two days of my life.” Harding took a deep breath and blew it out

slowly, but he didn’t turn around. “I lived through my parents’ deaths and managed to survive what

my pride did to me.” He turned toward her, his eyes nearly white with his cat’s presence. “But these

last two days nearly killed me.” With a shudder, the claws receded, and Harding’s lion retreated. He

held out a now human-shaped hand to her. She slid her palm over his, allowing him to help her from

the bed. She stood on wobbly legs, but managed to hold her weight. “Millie and the Mastin sisters

came with us while Jackie and any others found will remain at the compound. The Council will be

separating out who may still sympathize with Freedom from those that really want help. Ben wanted

to come along, and Stone trusts him, so he’ll be allowed to stay in Ridgeville for a while.”

Two days. They were splitting up the remaining four and they were leaving and for some

reason Ben was coming and… “The plane’s here? Now?” She finally took a moment to look around

her room and realized that everything was gone. Everything.

“Now.” He tugged her close, and the anxiety that’d been growing inside her fled with his

touch. “I had them pack you up, and we shipped everything to my house. Alex, the Prime, is already

overseeing the remodel on our home. I looked at the plans for this place. They’re reinforcing the

walls with steel to keep a lot of the voices out. By the time we get there, it should all be done. Dusty,

but done.”

“For me?”

A finger below her chin had her tipping her head back to meet his gaze. “I told you: I’m gonna

protect you with everything I’ve got. There will be no more scars on your body or your mind. I

promise.”

And, for the first time in her life, Tess allowed herself to hope.

Chapter Six

“Sometimes, I wake up happy with the world and utterly in love. Then Alex leaves the toilet

seat up. Answer: Make sure he doesn’t wake up. Unfortunately, that’d mean the loss of some kick

ass bow-chicka-bow-bow. I’m so torn.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride, who

loves orgasms more than she hates annoying men.

Getting Ben settled in at the pride house, even if he was an elephant, had been easy.

Delivering the Mastin sisters and Millie to Gina, one of the pride’s single females, had been a piece

of cake. Gina was a sweet lioness, and with no male sniffing around her, she’d been an ideal choice

to house the women. Plus, there was the bonus of the pride’s Sensitives living a couple blocks over.

Maddy and Elise could help the females he’d brought along, and he hoped they got through to the three

ladies. At least enough for them to be able to eventually live on their own and interact with the public.

Relocating everyone’s possessions and getting people settled? Yeah, all that had been easy.

Having Tess in his home, Tess in the shower inside his home, was a whole ’nother ball of

“Lord Help Me.”

The water pattered against the tiled walls, the rhythmic tattoo of the liquid against the hard

surface occasionally jarred by Tess’s shifting body. He imagined her in there: fluid sluicing over her

curves followed by the bubbles of soap. Water would stick to her lashes and soak her hair so that it

lay long and smooth against her back. The dark curls guarding the juncture of her thighs would beckon

him, urging him to come closer for a taste. Well, he assumed they’d be dark, a deeper hue of red that

would match her flowing hair.

He’d been suffering her so close for two days, and he was ready to go insane.

Harding growled and thumped his wayward cock. He wasn’t getting anywhere near her. He’d

made a promise. He’d told her he wouldn’t rush her along, and he’d be damned if he went back on his

word, no matter how much his beast snarled. The cat paced inside his mind, stalking back and forth

with its fangs bared. It was pissed as hell at his decision to give Tess time. He wanted their mate

now. Period.

A soft moan reached him, the sound low and sweet. Part of him wondered if it was an

invitation, his mate asking for him to come to her without saying the words. Then he remembered that

they’d been on the go since their plane had touched down two days ago. Between the flight, getting

their people settled and meeting some of the pride, they’d been busy. So, yeah, she may moan and

groan in there, but it was probably due more to the relaxing heat of the water rather than her touching

herself as she thought of him.

Ah, he could always dream.

Of course, his dreams made him harder than a rock.

Another soft groan and he cursed his enhanced hearing, damned the lion inside him for its

mere existence. He wouldn’t be so tormented if he were a normal man. No, he had the cat around to

bolster him. Hell, torture him.

But no matter how hard the pain in the ass shoved, Harding wasn’t closing the distance

between him and the bathroom door. He wasn’t going to try the knob and pray that it was unlocked.

And he definitely wasn’t going to step into the same room as a water-slicked Tess.

Harding’s skin prickled, warning him that the cat was near the edge. He glanced at his arms,

noting the cream-hued fur that emerged from his pores, and he bit back a curse. His beast was not

taking “no” very well. Both halves of him knew that they’d agreed to time, to giving her the

opportunity to realize she could trust them with her safety and that they wouldn’t turn on her at the

drop of a hat.

He needed to remember that he couldn’t be led around by his cock. His very hard, very

demanding cock. He sighed and forced himself to move farther from the bathroom. There was nothing

to be gained by lurking outside the door, inhaling her sweet scents and imagining her naked. Mmm…

naked.

Damn it. He stalked down the hall. He’d go to the kitchen and snare a beer or ten. Eight in the

morning was early, but it had to be five o’clock somewhere. If he chugged ’em fast enough, he might

even get a little buzzed. Yeah, that was a plan, he—

“Harding?”

He froze, foot hovering over the ground. Her voice was a caress, his name on her lips a

physical touch. His lion roared, knowing that their mate was behind them clad in nothing but a towel

since she hadn’t taken any clothes in with her. Towel-clad Tess. He imagined the droplets of water

clinging to her skin, the way the wet strands of her hair would frame her face.

Harding placed his foot on the ground and dropped his head forward with a groan. The mental

image was burned into his brain, never to be erased.

“Harding?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the temptation to turn and take a peek. Because if he saw

her, he’d pounce, promises be damned. “Yeah?”

Was that his voice? Deep and rough until even he almost didn’t recognize the word.

“Um…”

It sounded like a moan, and his imagination went wild once again. The wet, the heat, those

curves so close…

He took a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to gain a little control over his body. His cock

throbbed and begged him to turn around, press Tess against the wall and slide deep into her wetness.

The past two days had been hell. He’d had his mate close, but couldn’t touch. Every sigh,

whimper, and moan had reached him and yet there was nothing he could do. He didn’t want to push

his luck. He had her in his home, mere feet from his bed, and he was determined not to scare her off.

Harding wanted her to get to know him—him—and accept him for who he was. He wanted to

be worthy and desired and wanted. Like he never had been in the past. He was slowly easing toward

the base of Tess’s fears, but he still had his own demons lurking. Even if she’d been exposed to his

past, it didn’t mean he’d fully processed all of it on his own. Nightmares still plagued him all too

often.

“Harding?”

Damn, he’d been lost in his thoughts too long. He coughed, begging the cat to retreat so he

sounded more human than beast. “Yeah?”

He looked over his shoulder and damn his imagination hadn’t done her justice. There were the

droplets clinging to the upper curve of her breasts and the mussed hair falling past her shoulders, but

he hadn’t counted on the flush in her skin, the blush of red that teased him. She’d look like that when

he got done with her, skin pinked with arousal and need as he trailed kisses over her body.

Harding’s cock twitched, telling him it agreed with that idea. Ever since he’d met Tess,

arousal hadn’t been far away. His body had always been ready, willing, and able to respond to her

nearness. Learning about her, getting to know her, made him want her all the more.

Did she want him just as much? He’d scented her desire here and there, but doubts lingered in

his mind. Especially after what she’d seen.

Tess stared at him with wide eyes that grew wider by the second, suddenly reminding him

that: 1) he was staring rather intently and 2) he was pretty sure he’d missed the answer to his

question.

He cleared his throat. Again. “What?”

Fortunately, the ringing of the doorbell saved him from looking like an idiot any further. He

bolted and the second he exited the hallway and rounded the corner, the voices of his impending

guests reached him.

“This is a bad idea.” Alex’s long-suffering sigh followed his words.

“It’s the best idea ever. In the universe even. God himself couldn’t think of a better idea. That

whole Adam and Eve thing? That ain’t got nothing on this.” Harding felt Maya’s giddy enthusiasm.

Giddy.

He was reminded of the last time he’d been smacked with Maya feeling giddy, and groaned.

Oh, it’d turned out for the best—he’d found his mate, after all—but there’d been a few not-so-great

times mixed in there.

Another knock came, immediately followed by his doorbell being pushed rhythmically. Ding

dong, ding dong, ding dong…

“Maya.” Alex may be growling, but when it came to his mate, he was all snarl and no bite.

Except for those times when he mounted his mate from behind and… Harding shuddered. He’d

walked in on the couple one too many times. Hell, even worse, he’d heard them too many times.

Listening to “give it to me, Daddy” while guarding Maya was not his idea of a good time.

Two young voices overrode whatever else Alex may have said.

“I wanna ding!”

“Ding ding ding ding!”

God save him, they’d brought their twin sons, Easton and Weston. While they were a bit over

a year and a half old and short as hell, they still managed to get into everything.

Taking a deep, soothing breath, he flicked the locks and opened the door to reveal what he’d

expected. The Prime and Prima, complete with their twin cubs, stood on his front porch. Without

waiting for an invite, Maya nudged him aside and sailed into his home, the rest of the family trailing

in her wake. Well, a part of it at least. Alex passed by with an apologetic smile while the ankle biters

wrapped around Harding’s legs.

“Unca’ Harding!” Their voices came in chorus, two identical, beaming faces turned toward

him, happiness in every bit of their expressions.

“Hey guys.” He couldn’t suppress the joy that buoyed him when in their presence. Reaching

down, he lifted one and then the other into his arms. “How you doin’?” He shot a glare to Alex who

merely rolled his eyes. That told him all he needed to know: It was all Maya’s idea.

Then the kids were off, Easton going on and on about “esplosions” while Weston told him

how he was knocked down, went boom, and then bared his teeth. Harding hoped no one had been

injured. Their chitter-chatter filled his ears as he followed Alex, who followed Maya, deeper into his

home.

At hearing about being knocked down, Alex stilled and slowly turned around. “What about

‘boom’?”

Two identical mouths snapped shut for the barest of moments before the cubs pointed at each

other. “He did it.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Maya!”

The click clack of the Prima’s heels reached him, telling Harding that the woman was raiding

his kitchen. Maya stuck her head into the doorway, silver spoon in hand. “Huh? What?” Her attention

briefly landed on her mate before turning to Harding. “Did you know you’re out of ice cream? Like,

all out? What’s up with that? You totally should have stocked up before you brought her here. How

can I torture your new ma— M-A-T-E without ice cream? It’s beyond comprehension.”

“Whatsa M-A—”

“Duh, stupid. It’s a-It’s a-It’s a. You’re a dummy-head and I hate your face.”

That brought on a shoving match, and Harding unceremoniously plopped them onto the ground

before they got to what was to come. The minute four little feet touched the ground, they almost

instantly became eight. Adorable little faces shifted and transformed into golden muzzles while pale

fur emerged to coat their skin. Clothes and shoes weren’t a concern as the two lion cubs tussled and

tangled in his entryway.

Somehow a soft gasp filtered through the growls and snarls and pulled his attention to the

hallway. A fresh-faced—now dressed—Tess stood there, eyes wide and shock plainly written across

her features. Part of him figured she deserved some sort of explanation, but he and his inner-beast

couldn’t get past how beautiful she looked, and how right it felt to have her in his home.

The twins continued their fight, oblivious to the world around them. At least until their father

grabbed and lifted them by the scruff until he could look them in the eyes. Little claws still reached

for each other, the children unmindful of their new position, but they couldn’t ignore their father’s

roar.

Even the steel reinforced walls—which had cost him an arm and a leg in order to get them

completed before bringing Tess home—trembled with Alex’s volume. The cubs immediately stilled.

Their golden eyes were wide as they first focused on one another and then their father.

Another look to Tess revealed that his sweet mate was now shaking, body trembling while she

wrapped her arms around her stomach. Without hesitation, he left his Prime behind and strode to his

woman. He tugged her into his arms, hugging her close while gently rubbing her back. “It’s okay. I’ve

got you. You’re safe.”

Tess melted into him and the world outside the two of them vanished. It was just him and his

mate that mattered. Not his Prime or Prima or their cubs. His entire future was wrapped up in this

woman, and the rest could go to hell.

He nuzzled her, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head and brushing his lips over her

temple. Her tremors eased, slowing until they came at sporadic intervals. She leaned into him, and he

gladly took her weight. He might not be able to mate her and make her his, but he’d always take care

of her. Always.

The click clack of Maya’s heels signaled the woman’s movement through his kitchen, and then

the carpet muted her steps. Not long after, the thunk, thwack, and thump of her striking three heads

reached him. First it was two whimpers and then a moan followed by an indignant “hey!”

Smiling, he turned, bringing Tess around with him. As he’d suspected, he found three

O’Connell males all rubbing their heads. The cubs were using their paws, of course, but the move

was unmistakable.

The Prima waved a spoon at Harding. “You hid the ice cream behind the rump roasts.

Sneaky.” She slipped the spoon into her mouth and moaned around the bite. Once divested of the cold

dessert, she pulled it from her mouth with a pop.

“Maya!”

“Yes, Oh Glorious Donor of Baby Making Material?”

Harding fought to remove his smile. Hard. He even kept quiet.

Tess did not. A low peep of laughter escaped her lips, and then she slapped her palm over her

mouth, eyes wide and face stricken with fear. The trembles returned and he rubbed his palm along her

arm.

Maya turned to them with a smile. “It used to be ‘Oh Glorious S-P-E-R-M Donor,’ but the

twins started talking. Had to clean the language up.” The Prima stuck her spoon in her ice cream and

came toward them, hand outstretched. “Heya, I’m Maya. Those three belong to me and at the moment,

they’re Tweedle-Dum, Tweedle-Dee, and Tweedle-Not-Getting-Any.”

“Aw, baby…”

“Or Easton Benjamin O’Connell, Weston Jeremiah O’Connell and my mate Alex.” Maya

leaned forward and whispered. “I call the kids Ben and Jerry when Alex isn’t around.”

“Maya!”

Maya rolled her eyes but didn’t slow. “All I asked for was one visit to meet my new best

friend forevah without a fight and what happened?” She shook her head. “Anyway, welcome to the

pride, yada yada,” Maya kept talking, despite Alex’s warning growl. The Prima had been skipping

over Alex and accepting way too many shifters into the pride lately. Shifters who definitely were not

lions. “So, you’re adorable and I think we should have a girl’s night out and you’re coming.” Maya

looked to him. “I’m thinking Carly. I mean, how scary are bunnies?” The Prima’s attention shifted to

Tess. “You’re not afraid of and-or eat bunnies, right? Little Bunny Foo-Foo?”

God, Harding could have kissed the Prima. Could have, but wouldn’t. He respectfully feared

the Prime too much to push his luck. That, and his lion refused to get anywhere near another woman

until he had Tess well and truly mated. Tess responded to Maya’s outstretched hand and shook her

head, but the Prima apparently wasn’t settling for a mere handshake. Nope, she snared Tess in a big

hug, squeezing her tight before releasing his mate back into his care.

“So, yeah,” Maya turned her attention to him. It was that giddy grin. Damn it. Had he

mentioned he hated the woman when she was giddy? “You’re our chauffeur by the way. Wyatt’s, uh,

visiting with his new friend, and I doubt you wanna be away from cuteness here. No weenies but

your weenie. You can pick us up tonight at nine.” With that, she spun on her heal and waved toward

her cubs and Alex with her spoon. “Let’s go, boys. Two of you are due for a time-out and one of you

gets to spend some time on his knees.” She looked back and gave him a wink. “Begging, of course.”

Yeah, Harding just bet.

In a whirlwind, the O’Connell clan was gone, leaving a blessed silence in their wake.

“So, that was our Prime and Prima and their cubs.” Harding wasn’t sure what else to say.

Other than a major case of the shakes, she seemed to have taken it all well.

“They’re so…nice. And I’m…” Awe tinged his mate’s voice. The idea that she was so

surprised by the fact that Alex and Maya were nice made his heart break for her. He only imagined

what her life had been like with dominant shifters who were a lot less than “nice.” Her burgeoning

smile, blinding in its intensity, made him decide that no matter what, Tess’s life would be filled with

“nice” from this moment forward.

“You’re my mate, and that’s all they care about.” He hugged her close once again.

“But, I’m—”

“My mate.” He cupped her cheek and forced her to tilt her head back so that he looked into

her eyes. “I told them about Alistair, and Maya’s only gripe was that he was already dead so she

couldn’t kill him for you. Then she bitched because Alex still hasn’t found a witch to bring people

back from the dead. She would have taken a secondary murder as a consolation prize, but it’s not

possible yet.” Alex had paled at Maya’s “yet.” More than anyone, Alex knew what kind of trouble his

mate could get into when “yet” was tossed around.

“Really?” So much hope shone in her gaze.

“Really. You’re mine, Tess. This is our home. You’re safe.” He leaned down and brushed a

chaste kiss across her lips. His lion battered at him, urged him to take it further, but he held onto his

control. “And someday, I’ll tell you how much you’re loved.”

Chapter Seven

“Remember: you’re a gorgeous woman, and the whole world does revolve around you.

Unless it revolves around me.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who

may share the world with Tess. But not all the time; you’d better get that straight right now.

Someday Tess would look back on her very first Girl’s Night Out and decide it was one of the

most magical of her life.

At the moment, it was merely…interesting.

Right. Interesting was a good way to describe it. Bizarre beyond belief was another.

Maya, fruity drink in one hand and empty beer bottle in the other, leaned toward her and laid

her head on Tess’s shoulder. “I just wanna let you know… I’m keeping you.” Hiccup. Lord, the Prima

was drunk. From what Maya had told her earlier, the “fluffy factor” allowed some shifters to become

shit-faced. It was the guys with all of the “muscley hotness” that had lack-o-drunkenness issues. And

it “sucked to be them.”

“Umm…”

“Because you’re adorable Tess… Tadorable.” Maya jerked away from her, slightly swaying

as she raised her colorful glass high. “To Tadorable!”

“Tadorable!” Carly echoed Maya’s shout, joining in the salute…of sorts.

The bartender approached their table, sexy smile on his face and swagger in his steps. He slid

a tray onto the polished wood. Half its surface was covered with snacks and the other half with

another round of drinks. “Here you go ladies.”

They all watched the large man saunter away, and Tess reminded herself that she had a man

even hotter sitting within twenty feet of them.

“Hey, Tess?” The Prima was back with a sigh, leaning against her once again. “Can we have

a hedgehog bite you instead of Harding? I know the lion is the shit’s bananas, but I really want a

hedgehog, and the bar owner, Honey, won’t let me borrow her mate, Blake—” A shout of “Damn

straight!” came from the bar. “—And Blake won’t give me Katie because she’s part of his pack. So,

we’ll make you one and I’ll be happy. I’ve got the most adorable cage…”

Suddenly Maya’s pink drink was snatched from her grasp by a whisker-clad Carly. “That’s

enough for you, Missy. We are not turning Tess into a hedgehog just because you were denied a pet as

a child.”

Maya growled and her whiskers came out to play. “Only because you and your brother got to

my mom first.” The Prima turned back to Tess, sweet smile in place. “What if I promise not to let the

twins eat you?”

“Umm…” Tess still wasn’t sure what to say. Hell, she hadn’t known what to say from the

moment she and Harding had picked up the two women. Somehow she’d ended up with her lion—and

she wasn’t touching the possessive side of herself with a ten-foot pole—a lioness and a rabbit.

Really. No lie.

“Maya…” Carly half-growled, half-chittered at the Prima.

Maya blew a raspberry at her friend. “Don’t be a drag, just be a queen.” Then she pounded on

the table with her fist. “Ohmahgawd! Remember when I tried to get Alex to put on some fishnets and

heels like that video? Because, I mean, he’s massive hotness and the music video was kinda sexy…

but he said no.”

Tess wasn’t going to laugh. Really. Not even snort.

Carly nudged a glass of something purple toward her. “Here, you’re not drunk enough yet.”

Tess caught the drink, the near-neon liquid sloshing over the side. She was totally in way over

her head. She took a sip and let some of the sweet fluid flow over her tongue. “Mmm…”

“Good, right?”

She nodded and swallowed a bit more. Then some more. Conversation between Carly and

Maya flowed around her, the women teasing and laughing out loud, their sounds drowning out those

that came from the rest of the bar. A sweet fuzziness enveloped Tess, making her feel as if she floated

on air. Hell, that hadn’t taken long. The glass was only half empty.

Carly leaned toward her, resting her head on Tess’s shoulder as the Prima had done not long

ago. “Feeling good?”

“You got me drunk,” she accused.

“I did. We can’t start busting your balls until you’re giggly.” Carly’s smile was blinding.

She snorted. “I don’t have balls. Harding does though. I wanna see his balls. Balls is a fun

word, isn’t it? Bbbbaaalllsss.”

Carly clapped twice. “Okay, we have achieved Tessious Drunkious.”

A round of “woo-hoos” surrounded her. Geez, even the bar patrons were happy about her

fuzziness.

Then the advice began. God save her.

Maya was first. “Now, I know that you were afraid, you were petrified.”

“You kept thinking how you couldn’t get the fuck outta that hellhole.” Carly was right behind

the lioness.

“Wait! I don’t think that’s how the song goes.” Maya’s brow was furrowed. “Maybe we

should pick a different one.”

“There’s Respect. ‘Cause he needs to R-E-S-P-E-C-T her or he’s never gonna get it.” Carly

paused. “And by ‘get it’ I mean bow-chicka-bow-bow. Just so we’re clear.”

“Did we just mix I Will Survive, Respect, and My Lovin’?” Maya’s gaze zeroed in on Carly.

“We. Are. Awesome!”

“Well, it was more of a mix-ish. I think our song remembrance bits are broken.”

“Huh,” Maya tilted her head to the side. “Still awesome!”

This time Tess didn’t hesitate to join in, the buzz of both the alcohol and being around people

that accepted her for herself giving her an extra boost of confidence. She raised her glass, clicking it

against the others.

Maya snared her free hand. Warmth from the other woman washed over her, the woman’s

innate peace and purity of soul seeping into her. “Now we’ll mix a few more. ‘Cause, Tess? You are

beautiful and if you want your future, you gotta forget all that bullshit in your past. And Harding isn’t a

scrub—though I don’t know what the hell that is—and deserves your love. He’s not hanging out of the

passenger side of his best friend’s ride. He has his own car. We rode in it.” Maya released her and

raised her hand. “High five for throwing together Beautiful, Wannabe, and No Scrubs!”

“Well, throw-ish.” Carly sighed. “The Spice Girls really were an underappreciated group. I

wanted to be Posh Spice when I grew up, but Victoria Beckham was too skinny. I kinda hate her for

that.”

“It’s not good to hate.” Maya butted in. “Unless it’s skinny people and crazies.” The lioness

turned to her. “No offense, but Alistair was one of the crazies. Just sayin’.”

That earned the woman a smack to the head from Carly. “We are supposed to be forgetting the

crazy and focusing on getting Tess to ride Harding like a cowboy.” Carly sighed. “There’s nothing

like riding a cowboy a time or two or fifteen.”

“God Bless the Gaian Moon!” The two women said it together and clinked glasses.

Tess finally lost it at that one. True, her knowledge of the moon had been gleaned second-

hand, but she’d learned enough to know that the Gaian Moon was a night filled with hot sex with the

intent on making babies. Other memories of those nights tried to fight through, but she shoved them

back. Now wasn’t the time to let them free.

Carly stole her drink and set it aside before grabbing her hand. Their combined joy joined in

with the muzziness from the alcohol, and peace settled over her.

“Tess?” Tess opened eyes she hadn’t realized she’d closed, and looked at Carly. “It’s gonna

be okay.”

She would forever blame the tears on the burning in her eyes from the alcohol.

“Nothing from before you met Harding matters anymore. You’re part of this pride—” Carly’s

words were low and gentle.

Maya raised her hand. “But don’t really, really say that in front of anyone until Alex does his

mumbo jumbo. He gets annoyed when I do the whole ‘welcoming’ thing, and then I don’t get sex, for

like, a day. A whole day.” The two women snorted and Maya continued. “The point is: hold onto your

past, but don’t let it destroy your future. That big scary guy over there—”

Tess cut off Maya and shook her head, looking toward Harding. “He’s not scary. Sweet.

Caring. Gentle. Not scary.” When she looked back at her new friends, it was to find them gaping at

her. “What?”

“Dude.” Carly threw her arms in the air. “We so weren’t needed. She loves him already.”

Love? Tess gulped and shook her head. Nope. She wasn’t risking her heart that way. Not ever.

“An-y-ways.” Maya rolled her eyes. “You need to accept that you aren’t your past. You aren’t

some psycho waiting to crawl out of some evil cocoon—”

“I like that metaphor, very Aliens.” Carly took a gulp of Tess’s drink.

“—I know, right?” Maya grinned. “An-y-ways. You are you and he is him… Or whatever…

The point is, quit being a baby. He’ll boink you, nosh on you, and then ta-da! We have a new BFF.

Though I really wish you’d let a hedgie bite you. I have a freaking pride of lions. I need more

variety.”

Tess wanted to accept Maya’s words. The worry over her past lessened with each passing

moment, but it was the guilt over the other women that still gnawed on her soul.

As if reading her mind, Maya shook her head and squeezed her hand. “No. The women will

get better every day. Maddy and Elise will work with them constantly. They don’t hate you. They

know that while you didn’t suffer in the same way, you were still a victim.” Maya’s gaze drilled into

her. “Let it go Tess, and let yourself live.”

Tess absorbed the words and turned her attention to the man sitting near them. Her mate. Her

scarred warrior. He was a man who’d had a horrific past, the scars still decorating his body, yet he’d

pushed beyond them to embrace a better life.

Could she do the same? Was it that easy?

“No. It’s not.” Carly pulled her attention from Harding. “It’s hard and it hurts and there are

days you want to hide from the world… And then I look at Neal and realize that every second of pain

was worth being in his arms. You’re a survivor, Tess.”

“Like Destiny’s Child.” Maya nodded. “Totally. But without the awesome asses. Because,

really, I’m not even a lesbian and I was tempted by that badunka-dunk. Just sayin’.”

Tess snorted.

“Hey now.” Carly stuck out her tongue. “The point is: you don’t need your big girl panties

because Harding would appreciate you going commando. We love you. The pride will love you once

we get you added to the roster—”

“Remember we’re letting Alex ‘officially’ do that.” Maya hiccupped.

“—And we promise that once you’re mated, you won’t be crazy. We’re Harding’s friends,

right? We wouldn’t let him stick his dick in crazy. Promise.”

Tess wasn’t sure how to take Carly’s words, but she kinda got their point-ish.

She hoped they were right.

“Oh, I’m totally right.” Her skepticism had to have shown since Carly waved away Tess’s

worries. “It’s, like, a rule. Women are always right, and if the men say we’re wrong, the doors to

Vaginaville are permanently closed. But I do let Neal in for good behavior. Lotsa tongue action.”

Carly winked at Tess.

Tess stared at Harding once again, drinking in the sight of him. She didn’t see his scars,

inflicted by his own family, and only saw the man who wanted her. Not because of lust or some

crazed emotion, but because she was his mate. That hint of beast inside her rumbled in approval, its

wavering animal form urging her to go to him. He was the only one to call to that small part of her, the

only one who could quiet the voices with his mere presence, and the only man she’d ever been

comfortable with.

“Okay.” She whispered the word, forcing the air from her lungs, but the shifters heard the low

syllables nonetheless. She wasn’t saying okay to forever right this second, but she was willing to let

herself go to Harding and ask for more. More of what, she didn’t know, just more. A round of “woo

hoos” went around, and then the two ladies were gathering their purses and scooching around the

booth. “What are you guys doing?”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Duh. We timed this so damned perfectly we should get a medal. Check

out the front door.”

Tess turned and saw two large males entering, each man emitting an aura of dominance and

power. Those two turned toward their small corner, and heat flared in their eyes. It was one of sex

personified mixed with a possessiveness that rivaled Harding’s.

She knew Alex, and Carly was quick to provide the name of the other male. “There’s my

cowboy, Neal.” The rabbit leaned forward and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “Now, go rock

Harding’s world and we’ll see ya in a few days at the next run. But no starting the run. It annoys Alex

and then he gives Maya a spanking.”

Maya gripped her hand. “Start it. Please. I beg you.” Alex snared her and swung the giggling

Prima into his arms. “Bye!” She waved, smiling over her mate’s shoulder as he wove through the

crowd and back to the front door.

Neal swooped in and wrangled a swaying Carly. In moments, it was just Tess standing near

their table while Harding remained at the bar.

He held out his hand, palm up and fingers stretched toward her. “Ready?”

Renewed nerves pummeled her with worries. Joking and laughing about letting the past fall

away was one thing. Opening herself up to potential hurt was another. On trembling legs, she closed

the distance between them and rested her hand on his palm. “Sure.”

“Good.” Harding tugged her closer, pulling her until they stood chest to chest. Well, her chest

to his chest-slash-abdomen. Ches-domen. “Let’s go home.”

Home. Home sounded really, really good.

Tess followed him through the bar. Wow, they really had been partying for a while, since the

previously overflowing room was now nearly empty. Harding tugged her through the doorway and

into the dim parking lot. Giggles, laughs, screeches, and a definitively sexual moan met them the

moment they were outside.

The door behind them continued squeaking as each customer vacated the place, the squeal and

clunk of the portal swinging open and closed mingling with the women’s noises.

“Hey! No sex in the parking lot! There’s a sign, people!” Tess turned toward the voice and

found the owner, Honey, pointing at a white sign bolted to a light pole. A sign that actually said “No

sex in the parking lot.”

Maya’s low “bitch” was discernible even to Tess’s mostly-human hearing.

God, was this what normal felt like? Smiles? Laughs? She looked around the open area,

noting the two couples, each male teasing and toying with their respective mates as they stumbled

toward their vehicles. Even Honey was cuddled up to her hedgehog mate, Blake. A gentle squeeze on

Tess’s fingers reminded her that she had something similar with Harding.

She looked up at him. “Take me home?”

She wouldn’t—couldn’t—mate him yet, but there was always other stuff. Other stuff that

didn’t involve teeth and changing her from skin and bones to fur and fang.

“Sure, sweet.” He tugged her to the left, toward their dark SUV that sat beneath the dim glow

of a street lamp. His feet were quiet on the asphalt, a low, dull thud that warred with the continued

merriment behind them. The joy at the women’s acceptance still filled her to overflowing. She’d

never been hugged or squeezed or given a sloppy kiss merely because. Her life had revolved around

fear and pain so this…this was nice. More than nice. Insanely, I-love-my-life awesome.

They stood beside the SUV, Tess leaning against the cool, shining metal while Harding held

the door open for her. She slid past him, their bodies barely skimming one another, and then she

hopped (literally) into the seat. Yet Harding remained in place. His gaze was intent on her, eyes

sliding into the palest blue hues as he continued to stare.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He skimmed her cheek with callused

fingertips. “At all?”

“Harding…” She didn’t know what to say or how to respond. Kindness, attraction, lov—

ahem, she’d stick with attraction—filled her. It was weird and different and new and… Oh.

Harding’s lips were suddenly on hers, tongue tracing the seam of her mouth until she opened and

granted him access. Their tongues twined and danced in an alluring rhythm while his flavors slithered

into her. He was so sweet and dark and tempting. She’d follow the man to hell for one more kiss, one

more touch of his fingers on her skin. Her body craved him like a drug, and she decided that he wasn’t

a habit she wanted to kick. Ever.

He crowded her further, sliding his hips between her knees and forcing her legs to spread

wide. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hands resting above the curve of her ass as his heat

enveloped her. She was surrounded by him, his body her whole focus, as he plundered her mouth. The

last time she’d been conscious and this close to him, she’d quickly bolted. She’d been afraid of her

feelings and the potential results of her actions. Now…now she could hardly remember her

objections.

Harding moaned against her lips, and she echoed the sound. Tess pulled on his shirt, tugging

him closer, aching to feel even more of his heat. She craved more, that hint of animal inside her

agreeing whole-heartedly. More, more, more, more…

Another moan from Harding. She rocked her hips forward and felt the strength of his arousal.

This tugged a groan from the lion, but it was quickly silenced, cut off when Harding ripped his lips

from hers. He released an echoing roar into the night, the sound vibrating against the SUV and

bouncing around the parking lot. It sliced through the sounds coming from the other couples still

lingering. The ragged noise was followed by silence. He turned from her and dropped to his knees as

he freed yet another roar, deeper and stronger than before. He clutched his head, palms pressed

against his temples as his fingers pushed against his skull.

God. Not again. They’d broken everyone up; they’d taken care of things. They were supposed

to be happy and safe and…

The next deafening roar seemed to have been wrenched from his very soul, nearly turning him

inside out with its intensity.

Tess dropped to the ground beside him and reached for him, intent on banishing this lingering

threat. She’d find the person and punish them for what they’d done to her Harding. But first she had to

lock the person out of Harding’s mind. Permanently.

She cradled his head, palms resting on his temples, and she forced his gaze to meet hers. “I’m

going to fix this, Harding.”

An anguished howl escaped Harding and his face snapped and popped as the lion pushed

forward. The man couldn’t help, so obviously the cat thought it could do better.

Tess took one last look at her mate, memorizing his features. Then she closed her eyes and

prayed.

Prayed she could help him.

Prayed she’d get a chance to love him.

Prayed she didn’t fry his brain.

*

Was he breathing? He didn’t think so. No, his lungs burned and his throat was closed. His

chest heaved in an effort to draw in air, but there was none for him. There was no air left. Pain. Dear

God, pain overwhelmed him, pummeling him with its intensity. The fire in his chest was joined by

razor-edged shards of agony.

His world became a sea of black with shades of grey trolling within the tumultuous darkness.

Each roll of the shadowy mass sent another jarring bolt of pain through him. His mind was fully

focused on the roiling ball of pure evil that had crept into him1.

And he was drowning in it. Drowning in the anger, the physical agony and mental anguish that

accompanied the oily presence inside him.

A presence.

An intruder.

Yes, that was why he hurt. The person was back. The man that was Millie, but wasn’t. The

one who’d been trying to hurt him over and over again.

An arm coated in the slinky oil of hate struck out at him, scattering droplets within Harding’s

mind. He roared in response, snarling and growling and returning the strike with one of his own. Only

it wasn’t his hand that attempted to inflict a wound, it was fur and claw. His cat. His cat had taken

over, pulled his human consciousness into its feline body to protect him.

The viscous mass shifted and snarled at him, twisting this way and that. The heat of its

loathing increased and expanded, filling him with emotions. Yet the midnight ball reformed, globs of

the oil falling away to leave an almost human body. It was still coated in the moving robes of hatred,

but it resembled a man more than a writhing ball.

The fur on the lion’s body stood on end, the cat watching the intruder. He picked his way

around the puddles of hate, unwilling to discover how his body would react to touching the substance.

The presence struck out at him again, flinging droplets of those acidic emotions with the

movement. Harding ducked and jumped to the side, barely avoiding the blow.

But he couldn’t do that forever. Fighting was what he did, but Harding couldn’t figure out how

to defeat this enemy. How could he fight someone who was there, yet not?

Another glob of deadly emotion came at him and he jumped aside, but not quite fast enough.

Stinging droplets burned into his coat, and the pads of his paws slipped into even more of the acidic

oil. He hissed and spit at his attacker, baring his long fangs.

The intruder didn’t seem to notice. No, he simply repeated the move and sent another ball

flying through the air.

Yet despite the pain, there seemed to be a glimmering light at the end of the tunnel signaling an

end to the torment. Each flinging strike thinned the globulus fluid until some of the darkness lightened

and gave way to the peach hints of skin.

Intellectually he’d known the intruder was a person, not just some thing that attacked, yet…

And yet he didn’t see the next mass flying at him, slicing through the air and heading straight

for his head. It encompassed his face, slinking over his pale fur and sinking into his body. He roared

and screamed, the cat overlaying the man as the pure, bone-deep agony overtook him.

“I’m going to fix this, Harding.”

The words sanded the sharpest edges of his pain, and then familiar hands were there. They

stroked his fur and dug into the gelatinous fluid that clung to him. With quick, jerky tugs, the blackness

was tossed away, turning into midnight smoke before it could form a new puddle.

The evil presence lumbered forward, its steps slow and measured, each one graceful yet

heavy.

With the bonds of loathing scattered, Harding stumbled to the ground, his legs no longer able

to hold his weight. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d been fighting the monumental emotions until they

were lifted from him. He slumped to the side, paws sliding from beneath him, and he rested his head

on the oily ground.

“I’m going to fix this, Harding.”

Tess stood between him and the attacker, her small, curvaceous body the only barrier that

lingered between Harding and endless torment.

“This isn’t happening asshole.” Her voice echoed within his mind, bouncing off his mental

walls.

The presence roared. No, trumpeted, the sound familiar but not.

A ball of sticky blackness flew through the air, heading straight for his mate, and he scratched

at the ground. His muscles protested, screaming at him, but he crawled through the pain. Had to keep

her safe. Had to protect her. Had to…

Had to do nothing. Tess seemed to catch the pulsing sphere of emotions, twist and turn them,

and the oily mass scattered. The blackened bits were solid now, tiny marbles that rolled over the

ground.

Each puddle they touched solidified and froze. The midnight hue lightened, easing from black

to grey and on to a blinding, shining white.

The attacker trumpeted in rage, and Tess emitted a sound he’d never heard before.

His mate roared.

The bellow bounced off the walls, shattering the sparkling pockets of light she’d created. It

vibrated his entire consciousness, shaking him to his core, and he could only watch the events unfold.

The presence attacked again, more oil-like blackness hurling through the air, only for Tess to

capture the bit as if it were light as a feather. With each lob, the lightness of the man’s skin became

more visible. More peach-tinged flesh emerged, and Harding searched for any hint of the man’s

identity.

He didn’t have Tess’s power, couldn’t sense the mental flavors of a person with a glancing

touch of minds, but he wasn’t blind. He hoped his mate could expose enough of the man to identify

him… So Harding could slice him into bite-sized pieces.

Asshole Tartare.

Still the man lumbered closer, but Tess held her ground, legs braced shoulder-width apart and

hands at her sides. Those slim fingers wiggled, twitching in an entrancing rhythm while the attacker

neared.

A groaning whine built in Harding’s throat, both he and his cat objecting to the lessening

distance between their mate and danger. Because…because she wasn’t just their mate any longer. It

was more and bigger and deeper and—

A crackling energy rent the air, stroking his fur with an inhuman hand and easing through his

mane in a gentle yet agitating caress.

“I’m going to fix this, Harding.”

The question was: how would she fix it?

Tess glowed, the brightening light coming from deep within her and sliding free into his mind.

She pulsed with the energy and power that increased with every beat of his heart. Her hands remained

passive at her sides, but the sparking extended to her fingers and danced between the digits.

“You can stop this now. Before it goes any further.” Her voice was deep and booming, a hint

of growl tingeing each word. His mate had a beast whether she wanted to face that fact or not. “Let

go. You’re not gonna win this. Move on, and no one will hunt you down. It’s over.”

Move on? Never. Harding would see the man dead and bleeding as soon as possible.

Apparently the lumbering male realized it as well, and continued to approach Tess until he

seemed to be right on top of her.

Harding damned his inability to protect Tess, raged at his body’s reaction to that hate-tainted

oil that had sapped all of his strength. He should be the one protecting her. He should be shielding her

with his body. He should…

A deafening boom rattled his bones, pushing against his skull until the pressure grew and

grew. His head was going to explode, any moment it’d be overcome by the force of the sound. He

closed his eyes, fighting the nausea-inducing agony that accompanied the noise, but a flaring light

burned past his eyelids.

Tess.

Electricity invaded his cat’s body, his muscles twitching in response to the side effects of his

mate’s attack. He pried his eyes open and watched as the hatred coating the intruder was burned away

amidst shrieks and trumpeting roars of protest. More and more of the oily blackness flared and then

disappeared to reveal skin.

The glow nearly blinded him, but he soon saw a man sans the midnight coating standing in

front of Tess, her body blocking him from full view. But just because he couldn’t see, didn’t mean he

couldn’t hear.

“It’s over, Ben.”

Chapter Eight

“Mistakes happen. You need to figure out how to turn your mistakes into someone else’s.”

— Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who has decided that her twins are

good for something: taking the blame…for everything.

Snippets of the fight returned to Tess the barest moment before agony overtook her. It writhed

through her veins, pummeling her from inside out, the strength growing with every breath. Her body

rebelled against the pain, fighting to push it from her, and her stomach heaved, anxious to rid herself

of the taint.

Rolling to her side, she opened her mouth and let it rise along her throat, burning as it pushed

past her lips. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t want to see what had actually come from within her.

Because she knew.

Dear God, she knew.

Hate and anger that heavy couldn’t be contained, and it’d somehow seeped into her as she’d

banished Ben from Harding’s mind.

How long ago had that been? Hours? Days? Weeks? It was difficult to tell when she fought

that hard. She’d put every ounce of herself into saving Harding from the elephant’s perverted attack.

Somehow Ben’s love for…someone…had twisted and turned into a rage so potent it made her

physically ill.

She heaved again, stomach emptying, and she finally noticed a large hand holding her hair

back. Its warmth seeped into her, forcing her to take note of the frozen shivers that traveled through

her body.

“Shh… It’s okay.” The deep timbre of Harding’s voice was unmistakable.

Tess fought to open her eyes, ignoring the crust that clung to her lashes. Her first glimpse of

the living world was of the basin beneath her along with the black remnants of Ben’s rage. At the

sight, she closed her eyes once again, unwilling to see what had come from the fight.

“T-Take it away,” she rasped.

Harding’s touch disappeared for barely a moment and then he was back, his gentle hands

urging her to lie back down. He stroked her as if she were as delicate as glass. And right then, she

probably was.

Eyes still closed, she sank into the comfortable mattress, thankful for the cushioned surface at

her back. Softness meant she was in the real world. Back where things made sense and her friend

wasn’t a walking oil slick.

“Better?” Harding twined his fingers with hers.

She nodded. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat, swallowing whatever hints of bile that remained.

“Yeah, much.”

“Good.” He squeezed her hands gently. “How long, Tess?”

She knew the question was coming, the one she didn’t want to answer, but had to nonetheless.

“I didn’t truly know until this last time.”

“And your suspicions?” She was sure he tried to mask his anger, but he forgot whom he was

talking to. There was no hiding things from her. Not truly.

“Ben wanted to come along.” She turned away. “He has his own family. His Herd is in the

mid-west. Why would he want to come to North Carolina?”

“And you didn’t think it’d be prudent to share with the class?” His sarcasm was not lost on

her.

“He’s a male. They can’t do that, they don’t have those abilities.” At least, that’s what she

told herself over and over again. Male shifters couldn’t be Sensitives, they didn’t have those powers.

Obviously she’d been wrong. Nearly dead wrong. “And he was my friend. I’d never sensed…”

“You could have warned us, Tess.” He gripped her chin and forced her to turn her gaze back

to him. “You could have—should have—trusted me enough to tell me. I’m your mate for fuck’s sake.

Fool that I am, I thought it meant something.” He released her and rose. “But obviously, it doesn’t.”

Harding padded toward the door, intent on leaving her behind.

Tess ached to reach out to him, let her mind brush his and allow him to peer inside her, but

she didn’t have the strength. He could see the depth of her feelings. He’d be able to see how she was

paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. He could explore her emotions and dig through her every memory.

He could—

Before he left, he paused and looked back at her. The pain and anger were clearly written on

his face. “Ben is in the living room and wants to talk to you before the Council takes him away. He’s

drugged enough that he won’t be a threat to you or anyone else for a little while. He’ll be due for

another shot in fifteen minutes. I’ll send someone in to help you.”

So, she’d smashed that to pieces. Whatever they’d been building had been pulverized by her

unwillingness to accept the truth about Ben and her inability to embrace what Harding offered. She

hadn’t been able to believe him, had she? Nor had she even tried to work past her fears. At least, not

until the other night with Maya and Carly. And then it’d been too late. The lies of omission had

started.

Alex appeared in the doorway with Maya hovering behind the massive shifter. His features

were set in an emotionless, chiseled mask. “They’re waiting.”

Maya pushed past her mate, a worried expression on her face. She rushed forward, arms

outstretched. “Are you okay?”

Maya grasped Tess’s hands and fought to hide her wince. Fighting Ben had really done a

number on her. “I’m fine.” She pushed the words past her gritted teeth and used Maya’s hold to pull

herself to her feet. “I’m good. Let’s go.”

Alex spun on his heel, leaving the two of them alone, and the Prima gave her a look of pity.

“He worries about Harding. They’re men, they don’t talk about things, but Alex almost looks at

Harding as a brother. They’re the same age, and when he came to the pride…”

When Harding had come to the pride, he’d been a battered, wounded, and scarred lion. Kind

of like now, only Tess had caused the damage, and it was all hidden beneath his skin.

Yes, she deserved their scorn. “It’s fine. Let’s get this over with. The quicker it’s done, the

quicker I can leave.”

Maya’s eyes widened. Disbelief, frustration and sadness flowed from the woman, but Tess

was too tired to pull them all apart to find the reasons behind each emotion. With agonizing, shuffling

steps she hobbled to the bedroom door and braced herself against the jamb. Air heaved in and out of

her lungs, burning with each inhale and exhale. Fatigue pulled at her, but she had to see this done.

Tess leaned on the Prima, bracing her body against the powerful woman, and the two of them

slowly made their way down the hall. Inch by inch, they padded over the soft carpet, until they finally

stumbled into the living area.

And there was Ben, bleary-eyed and slumped in one of Harding’s kitchen chairs. The man’s

wrists were cuffed, arms stretched behind the chair, while his ankles were secured to the seat’s legs.

Council guards stood on either side of their prisoner, guns unholstered and pointed directly at the

elephant’s head as it lolled against his shoulder.

Ben’s slightly crazed eyes were intent on her. “Tess,” he slurred her name. “You came.”

With Maya’s help, she crossed the room, pointedly ignoring Harding’s presence where he

leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. She’d be leaving him soon. Torturing herself by

staring at him wasn’t the best idea.

Carly stood nearby and quickly placed a chair in front of the prisoner. “Here, hon.”

She spoke as if Tess would shatter at any moment.

Maybe she would.

Between the two women, she managed to settle onto the seat and nearly groaned in relief.

Ben’s glassy eyes focused on her, but she took a moment to look around the room. And

regretted the decision. Women from the pride gave her looks ranging from pity to worry, while the

men were merely furious. At her.

She returned her attention to the man of the hour. “I did come.”

That earned her a winsome smile. “I knew you would. You were always so good. Always so

nice to Amelia.” His eyes cleared for the briefest of moments. “Did you know elephants really don’t

forget? It’s a curse. Can’t ever, ever forget.”

The wistful tone shot through her, his words in such contrast to the gruff male she was familiar

with. “What can’t you forget, Ben?”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “I know you are.”

“He wanted you and he wasn’t going to stop until he got you. I remembered…”

Tess leaned forward and braced her hands on her knees. Her arms shook, fatigue tugging at

her. “What did you remember?”

The wall of fuzziness returned to his gaze. “Them taking Millie. She screamed over and over

again. No-no-no-no… They hurt her, didn’t they, Tess? I was gonna watch over her until she was

strong enough to live on her own, and I met you, and he wanted you, and I couldn’t let that happen,

Tess.” A tear trailed down Ben’s cheek. “But I didn’t know. I thought he was forcing you and I didn’t

know.”

She sorted through his words, snared bits and pieces and pushed them all together. She cursed

the fact that she was too week to venture into Ben’s mind. Then again, there was no telling what she’d

find there.

So, she took a flying leap and guessed. “Millie isn’t an orphan, is she?” She replayed the

memories of the attacks on Harding, the taste and flavors that lingered. “She’s your sister?”

Ben paled, eyes going wide. “You can’t tell her. Not after what I did.”

“Shh…” She reached out to pat his knee, reassure the man who’d been her friend for months,

only to find a massive hand wrapped around her wrist.

She followed the arm, gaze rising higher until she met Harding’s stare. “You don’t need to

touch him.”

Tess yanked free of her maybe-ex-mate’s grasp and leaned back. “I won’t tell her. I promise.”

“I’m sorry, Tess. Did I say that? I didn’t know you didn’t want him to stop.”

“It’s okay.” She nodded. His eyes were drooping lower, his head rolling back and forth as he

fought the drugs.

“I wouldn’t have done it if I knew you loved him. I swear.” His gaze floated to hers once

again, but she didn’t see what she’d come to expect. She didn’t see the haze of the drugs blurring his

vision or the dilated pupils signifying their hold. No, they were clear as day. Or rather, night. Because

the black hue of Ben’s animal peeked out from behind his eyes, the beast making itself known for the

barest of moments. “I’m sorry, Tess. Will you watch out for her? Watch out for my Millie? She’s my

sister, my twin, only one I got. Don’t want her to be alone. I looked for her for a long time.”

“I will.”

Tension built in the elephant’s body, muscles flexing and bulging beneath his skin. “I’m

sorry.”

Those were his last words.

The kitchen exploded in a shower of wood and cloth, Ben’s change rolling over him in a grey-

tinged, undulating wave. Arms and legs lengthened and thickened between one heartbeat and the next.

The rapid pop of the Council guard’s guns collided with the screams from the women and roars of

rage from the men. Arms wrapped around her waist and yanked her from her seat moments before it

was shattered beneath a tangle of limbs, both human and animal. She wasn’t sure who held her, but

then again she wasn’t sure she cared, either.

A trumpeting scream tore from Ben. Tess flinched, knowing that it was one of pain rather than

fury. Wetness coated her cheeks, trailing over her flesh, and she wiped the moisture away. Tears.

Yes, tears.

Tears for her friend. For his past. For Millie’s future. For everything his confused hatred and

anger had caused.

But she’d made her own choices, hadn’t she?

One last roar and tremble of the mound of men, and then the mass stilled. Fur-covered males

slid away, the lions easing back along with a tiger-striped shifter and the two guards who’d been sent

by the Council. And then she saw him.

Ben.

Battered.

Bloodied.

Broken.

Dead.

The arms around her waist loosened, releasing her, and she stumbled. Catching herself on the

nearby couch, she turned to look at her savior. Of course it was Harding. Who else would it be?

The man’s skin was coated in white fur, mouth now that of his beast, but beneath it all he was

still Harding.

Her mate.

Wait, she’d fucked that up beyond all belief.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered the words and he clenched his jaw, confirming that he’d heard

her.

“A lot of that’s going around lately.” He took a step toward the kitchen, but then turned back to

her. “I need to go help clean up your mess.”

Her mess. Well, it wasn’t a lie. “Okay.”

Maya picked her way through the scattered furniture and carefully came to her side. “Are you

okay?”

“No.” Tears burned her eyes, scorching her with their salty-heat. “I’m very not okay.”

Delicate arms enveloped her. Soft hands stroked her head, and suddenly she found her face

pressed against the Prima’s neck. “Then we’ll take you somewhere else. Somewhere where okay

isn’t too far off.”

Chapter Nine

“Sometimes, when I’m depressed, I just want someone to hug me and tell me they have ice

cream. You thought I was gonna say I wanted to hear ‘I love you’, right? Screw that. Everyone

loves me, but not everyone has ice cream.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and

woman who believes ice cream fixes everything.

It’d taken five days and four dozen calls along with quite a bit of bribery, but Harding had

finally found her.

Now he needed to figure out what to do with her.

Love her or spank her. Or both.

First he had to talk to her.

Steeling himself for the coming confrontation, Harding climbed from his rented SUV and

approached the farmhouse. From the outside, it looked like any other home in the back woods of West

Virginia. The porch was a little crooked, a railing or two looked like it was falling off, and he didn’t

trust the shutters bracketing the front window.

But it wasn’t the outside that concerned him. It was what lurked within, and the past that

surrounded the place.

Fuck. Colwich, West Virginia. He thought he’d seen the last of this town.

Apparently not.

Harding climbed the steps, conscious of the fact that they could crumble at any moment, and

approached the front door. A twist of the knob had it coming off in his hand, and he growled. His

mate had been staying in a place like this.

Alone.

Unprotected.

Vulnerable.

All because he was an ass who couldn’t see past his own wounded pride.

A jiggle of the door opened it, and he gingerly stepped into the home. A glance around

revealed that it was coated with dust, small footprints on the carpet the only indication that someone

lurked. But did she still?

Harding breathed deep and sorted through the scents, his beast lending a hand. The cat was as

anxious to find Tess as the human half of himself. It’d been pushing and prodding him to hunt down

his mate the moment she’d left his home, but he’d been too wrapped up in himself to listen. So he

didn’t. And that’d gotten him five days of hunting. It probably would have been less if he’d been

allowed to roar at the Prima, but Alex had flatly told him that wasn’t happening.

Damn it.

Harding’s lion growled and snapped at him, reminding him to focus on the task at hand. He

closed his eyes and drew in another lungful of air. One by one, he sorted through the scents,

identifying and discarding those that were stale yet still lingered. He didn’t care about the other

shifters that’d come before. He wanted one person and one alone: Tess.

Rage. Fear. Blood. Tears. They seemed to permeate every surface, and he wasn’t surprised to

find them in the farmhouse. It had, after all, been home to Alistair McCain once upon a time.

And Tess, as well.

Then it hit him like a brick to the face. The sweet, luxurious scent of honey reached for him.

Its claws sank into his skin and tugged on his flesh, yanking him forward. She’d come here. True, he’d

been told she’d sought solace in this run down place, but he hadn’t quite believed the reports.

But he should have.

Cautiously, he followed where the flavors led, matching the footsteps that littered the carpet.

He twisted and turned down the hallways, the maze drawing him this way and that, deeper into the

home. He’d forgotten that this wasn’t simply a farmhouse, but one of Freedom’s compounds.

Innocuous on the outside, twisted on the inside.

The carpet eventually ended. His steps echoed off the wooden floors and rough-hewn walls.

The creaking and groaning of the house was the only other intrusion on his travels, the home

otherwise silent as if he were alone.

But the scent told him different. It lured him deeper into the farmhouse. It called to him and

drove him onward when he would have given up and sought Tess elsewhere.

Before long he was moving down a straight, long hallway, various doors leading off to other

rooms, but still the flavors beckoned him. So, he kept going. And going. And… He stopped in the

doorway to the last room, the space barren for all but one lonely figure: Tess.

He knew she was aware of his presence—he hadn’t kept his approach quiet—but she didn’t

look at him. So he took a moment to look at her.

And she was so damned beaten. Her hair was limp and dull, her shoulders slumped and her

legs drawn up until her knees pressed against her chest. She was a small ball of woman, as if fighting

to become as little as possible. A veritable “nothing to see here.”

One hand rested on her shin while the other traced circles over a dark, near black stain on the

wood.

Now he took a second look at the space, noting the aged wallpaper, the small darkened spots

along one wall and the few holes in another. He glanced at a nearby window and could immediately

replay what had happened in this room. The reports that circulated through the shifter community had

revealed nearly every detail.

Alistair had kidnapped one of the Ridgeville guards, tied him up and left him in the room until

he was ready to torture him. Except the Freedom leader hadn’t counted on the guard’s mate, hadn’t

believed that a small squirrel shifter could crawl through a window and free her man. Even more, he

hadn’t even imagined that the small woman wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through his head before

escaping.

Tess was tracing circles on the last physical representation of her father: the place where he’d

died.

She still hadn’t acknowledged Harding, but she hadn’t raged at him either.

Moving slowly, he closed the distance between them and crouched before her. “Tess?”

She didn’t look to him, her finger still gliding over the wood, but she did finally speak. “Do

you know how many lives he destroyed? I mean, not just those he hurt.” She shuddered.

Harding reached for her, intent on offering comfort. Only, at the last second, he pulled back.

He doubted she’d want to be touched by someone who could turn on her at the drop of a dime.

“I’m talking about the ones left behind.” She sniffled, and a sob tore from her throat. “And he

passed it on to me, didn’t he? He passed on that ability to hurt everyone without a thought.”

God, he didn’t think there was any scent worse than that of his mate’s pain. It clawed at his

skin, the heavy smell easily banishing the sweetness of honey. His lion roared and raged in

disapproval, fighting with him, demanding that he comfort their mate.

Tess raised her gaze to him and his heart cracked, bits falling to the wayside when he

absorbed her expression. Desolation. Pure, bleak sadness met him. “I thought I’d be different. For a

second, I really did. But I was wrong.” She sobbed. “So I’ll stay here, out of the way. I can’t hurt

anyone if there’s no one around to hurt.”

“Aw, damn Tess.” He didn’t wait for permission, didn’t think about her reaction when he sat

and pulled her into his lap. “Don’t say that, sweet.”

“H-Harding—”

“Shh…” He cupped her head and urged her to rest it on his chest. “No. No matter what you’re

about to say, or what you think, you’re wrong.” She shook her head, but he didn’t stop. He had to get

it all out, had to make her see that none of the mess they’d found themselves in was her doing. “How

many friends did you have growing up, Tess? You had twenty-six years. How many did you end up

with?”

Tess sobbed again, the gut-wrenching sound nearly tearing out his heart. But he needed her to

face her past. Sometimes that was hard—sometimes it hurt so bad a person thought they’d die—but it

needed to be done.

He squeezed her gently. “How many?”

“One.”

“One.” He rubbed her arm, noting the goose bumps, and he wondered if it was from cold or

fear. “And it was Ben, wasn’t it? Your one friend after a lifetime of abuse and loneliness.” She

nodded, and he realized his shirt had grown damp. “So, you didn’t want to believe he’d ever hurt

someone, and you hoped that if you kept quiet, it’d go away.”

Shakes overtook his mate, her body trembling in his embrace. “You almost died. I almost let

you die, and he hurt you and I had to fight to keep you alive and… My mate.”

“But I’m fine.” He brushed her temple in a lingering kiss. “I’m fine.”

Tess shook her head, nose shifting back and forth over his chest. “I should have—”

“Done exactly what you did.”

“How can you say that?”

“How can I expect you to trust a near stranger?” he shot back. “He’d been your friend—your

only friend—for months, Tess. We knew each other for just over a week. I dragged you across state

lines and expected you to trust me without question.” He gave her another kiss. “I expected too much

after too little time. All of us did, but me especially.” He sighed when she slumped into him. “The

women got on us the moment we’d finished cleaning up. They jumped down our throats like we’d

swallowed the crown jewels and a platinum credit card with no limit.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

“You’re right,” he nodded. “But it does give us a new starting point. It reset my expectations

and made me realize that I’m an ass. You’re a person, Tess. My mate, yes, but also so, so much more.

It’s the ‘more’ we need to work on now.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She shook her head. She’d been doing that a lot during their

conversation, but he refused to give up. “I nearly got you killed, and I’m mostly-human. What’s going

to happen to me if we do work past our problems? What if you do claim me? What will I become?”

“My mate.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. Maybe not today, but you can.” He didn’t give her a moment to interrupt him. “Alex

is supervising the repairs on the house, and it’s going on the market as soon as it’s finished. We’ll go

anywhere, start fresh if you want, but I won’t be separated from you. I can’t demand your trust or your

agreement to mate, but I’m asking you: don’t push me away.”

“I decided to be a hermit.”

“Then we can be hermits together. With or without a bite, I don’t want to lose you. Don’t

make me.” Tears burned his eyes and he didn’t bother fighting them. There was too much at stake to

spend time worrying about something so inconsequential.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Then we can ‘not know’ together.” He gathered every hint of emotion that lived within him.

He drew on his desperation and desire, the raw hopelessness that’d plagued him since she left and the

pure joy at simply finding her again. “Please.”

Tess tipped her head back, and he relished the ability to look upon his mate once again. The

days had weighed on him, dragging his spirit down until hope was barely a glimmer. Moisture filled

her eyes and a single tear escaped, trailing over her wet cheek.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, breasts brushing his arm. “But I want to go back to

Ridgeville.”

Chapter Ten

“You have nothing to fear, but fear itself… And Ninja Zombie Hookers. I know no one

thinks they’re real, but just wait until the zombie apocalypse comes and we’ll see who’s laughing

then.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who is totally prepping for

zombies.

Tess’s stomach churned, and it felt as if a rolling ball of acid tumbled around inside her. It

bounced off her ribs. She clutched her abdomen, begging for the nerves to settle.

Because she’d be seeing everyone. Today. Minutes from now in a welcome-home-slash-we-

don’t-hate-you-slash-house-warming party.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and a wall of warmth blanketed her back. “Tess?”

Harding rested his chin on the top of her head. “You okay?”

Yes.

No.

Maybe.

No, it was definitely no.

Instead of releasing the words, she leaned back into him, trusting him to keep her upright. “Of

course.” She bit her tongue on “not.”

He snuggled her closer, his scent sliding over her skin in an invisible caress, and she cursed

her fears and her inability to trust. Only, it wasn’t about trusting Harding. Her problem was trusting

herself. But she’d gotten a little better at that during the past week. They’d been rebuilding their

relationship while Elise and Maddy poked around in Tess’s mind.

Combined, it left her a smidge horny with a dash of headache.

Fun times.

But it was worth it. Though pain laced through her with every uncovered memory and

exploration of her skills, the man standing behind her was worth it all.

Because yes, Tess was a powerful telepath with a hint of Sensitive abilities, but she also held

more than a pinch of a beast within her. Together, they predicted that it was a polar bear like Alistair.

From the moment she’d returned to Ridgeville and entered Maddy’s care, the man who’d Changed her

mother had been relabeled as Alistair. No longer her father or “Dad.” Just plain and simple Alistair

McCain, ex-leader of Freedom, current residence: Hell.

Harding nuzzled her, bringing her back to the present. “Liar.”

Tess bit back another lie. “Okay, I’m scared. What if—”

“Shh… They already like you, Tess.”

“But I—” Fucked up beyond all comprehension.

She felt Harding shrug. “I love you and we’re working through the rest. If they can’t forgive

you, then they can’t, and we’ll move on.”

She stiffened. No, she hadn’t heard that right. He hadn’t said… Had he? Tess nudged at his

arm, struggling to force him to release her so she could focus on those pale blue eyes that haunted her

fantasies. “Harding,” she growled.

“Shh… Our visitors are here. Time to get the party going.” He kissed the side of her neck, a

soft stroke of his lips on her vulnerable flesh, and then he was gone. He slipped past her and strode to

the front door of their spacious new cabin, throwing it wide in welcome.

Children and adults tumbled from the various SUVs that now littered their gravel driveway.

The women of the pride alternated between yelling at the men and their cubs, while the men ignored

the chaos and strode toward her mate.

She kept her gaze trained on Harding, on the easy grace of his walk and the barely constrained

power that his body held.

He loved her?

No…

And yet… And yet he’d followed her, found her, given her the choice of where to start their

life, and then purchased a cabin that she’d fallen in love with at first sight.

To make her happy.

Her.

Tess McCai—

No, she’d hunted up her birth mother’s name. She was Tess Boyd. Someday she’d be Tess

Grange. If she ever mustered the courage and trusted in her true self. At the thought, Maddy’s words

came back to haunt her.

“You have a choice: buck the fuck up buttercup, or be a two legged pussy for the rest of

your life. People make mistakes and people have shitty parents. Amazingly enough, those people

manage to avoid becoming homicidal deviants who end up with a bullet in their head. I mean, just

look at Maya’s guards. There’s not a normal one in the bunch. If they can manage not to kill

everyone, you can too.”

The giggles, screams, and yells came nearer, tearing her from Maddy’s lessons and back to

the present. The chaotic mass of people drew closer, Harding leading the group toward their home,

and Tess pushed away from the window. With a deep breath, she headed to the front door and stood

just inside the portal, waiting for everyone to make it to her. Her mate paused at the bottom of the

porch steps and shot her a grin. Then their visitors filed past him.

The group barely even slowed as one Ridgeville Pride member after another filed by. Only…

only each of them slowed for a kiss on the cheek, a bruising hug, or a shoulder squeeze. Then, in

Neal’s case, she got a kiss, a hug, and a squeeze to her ass along with a “hey darlin’.”

That caused a roar on one front and a screaming chitter on another.

Harding strode across the porch, rage etched in every feature, while Carly flew back through

the house with obvious, deadly intent.

Tess was yanked away from the other lion and onto the porch so fast she thought her head

would spin, and her mate’s bellow filled her ears. “Mine!”

She waited for an answering scream from Carly, a similar affirmation of her claim, but got

something else entirely.

“So help me God, I will geld your furry ass and play pool with your balls.” Carly pinched

Neal’s ear and twisted.

“Aw, Lucky, I was just teasing.” Neal whimpered when she tugged on the piece of flesh. Then

she led him through the house and toward the backdoor, his whines trailing in their wake.

The “threat” gone, Harding hugged her close and rubbed his cheek over the top of her head.

“Mine.” The touch wandered over her face as he continued nuzzling her. Lips brushed her eyes, nose,

lips… “Mine.” And she realized he was scenting her, claiming her in the only way he could at the

moment. When he ventured further south to her neck, she tilted her head to the side and granted him

access. He growled and nipped where her neck and shoulder met. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

Tess stroked his shoulders. “I know. I know.”

He scraped his fangs over her skin and she shuddered. “All mine.”

“Yeah, yeah, yours-yours-yours.” Maya’s voice intruded on them. “Can we eat now? I mean,

something we can all eat? Something that isn’t Tess’s vagina? ’Cause that looks like where this is

going.” Harding growled, and Tess couldn’t suppress her giggle. “What? Just sayin’.” Trust Maya to

get to the heart of things.

The click clack of Maya’s heels on the porch signaled the woman’s retreat, and a small

shudder wracked Harding’s body. He took a deep breath and released it on a sigh as tension drained

from him.

“I’m sorry.”

Tess shook her head. “It’s fine. We’re fine.” She leaned against his chest and listened to the

steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’m the one that’s sorry. You wouldn’t be so on edge—”

“Hush. It’ll come when it comes. No pressure.” He chuckled. “Just don’t expect me to be too

rational when it comes to other men touching you, and you should get used to me having a little more

body hair than usual.”

She furrowed her brows and pulled back to focus on his face. Pale fur did coat his cheeks.

“Huh? Why?”

A pink blush stole across his features. “The cat isn’t quite as patient.” Harding stroked his

jaw. “He’s letting me know he’s unhappy the only way he knows how.”

A block of guilt settled inside her. Yet another thing she’d done wrong. Yet another way she’d

hurt the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with.

She believed in Ben’s innocence when all else told her she shouldn’t, which almost got

Harding killed. And now she still didn’t trust herself enough to mate with Harding, which lessened

the man’s control on his beast.

“I’m so sorry.” Would there ever be a day when she wouldn’t hurt those around her?

She wasn’t sure.

“Nope.” He gave her a quick, chaste kiss. “None of that. We’re having a party. There’s no

room for anything but smiles today.”

“But—”

Screams interrupted her, the voices a mixture of a deep baritone and high-pitched squeals.

And she knew exactly whom they belonged to.

“No, no, no, no…” The giggles of Easton and Weston grew closer.

“Damn it, you two, bring that back right now!” Their father did not sound happy.

“Damn it, Alex, you can’t say damn it!” It seemed the Prima got in on the chase.

The two fleeing cubs rounded the corner carrying a barbequed hog’s leg between them.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it…”

The twins ran past them, bolting away as Alex came around the house. He stopped at the

corner, panting, and Maya slammed into him from behind. “Damn it, Alex, why’d you stop?”

The twins echoed their mother as they dashed around the opposite end of the cabin. “Damn it,

damn it, damn it…”

Alex growled. “Maya, your children—”

The Prima stiffened. “My children? How is it that they’re mine when they’re bad? You taught

them ‘damn it’, damn it.”

Tess snickered. She couldn’t help it. The big, bad Prime and Prima were arguing like any

other couple. She wanted that. The kids, the arguing, but most important: the love that was obviously

shared between the two of them.

It was then they noticed Tess and Harding’s presence. Maya smiled wide, her anger

apparently forgotten, while Alex scowled. A tendril of fear stole into her. She knew it was irrational,

knew that Alex wouldn’t hurt anyone without extreme cause, but it was hard to get her body to

understand. There was still too much lingering in the past. Someday she’d return a scowl from

someone other than her mate with a scowl of her own. Today, she stepped closer to Harding.

Maya narrowed her eyes at Tess’s action and then turned that glare on Alex. The Prima didn’t

hesitate. She popped Alex in the back of the head. “Quit it or Vaginaville will turn into a no fly zone.”

With that, Alex snared Maya and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, smacking

her ass for good measure. Her growl was unmistakable, as was the Prime’s answering laugh.

“Come on, baby. There’s a patch of grass with our names on it.” Alex’s rumbling voice grew

softer as he moved away.

Then it was the two of them once again. Her and Harding. Alone-ish.

She stared at where the other couple disappeared, remembering the shared looks, the feelings

that underlaid their actions. Even through frustration and arguing, love was evident. Maya didn’t hold

a hint of fear that her dominant mate would harm her. Hell, she’d even hit him, and the man had

merely growled before stalking off and hunting a “piece of grass.”

When Haring enveloped her in a hug, she leaned into him easily, taking comfort in his

presence.

Tess sighed and rested her head on his chest once again. “I want that.”

“You want me to toss you over my shoulder and smack your ass?” Harding chuckled and bent

down a little, grip shifting until she thought he really would pick her up. “I have no problem with

that.”

She pushed and squirmed, laughing, but not really trying to get away. “No, just…that. I want

what they have. Normal.”

Harding raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, normal-ish. I mean, she’s fifty shades of crazy, but they love each other.”

He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Aw, Tess, it’s

right here when you’re ready for it.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I know what you said, but you can’t—”

A shout from the back yard cut into her objection and she growled. Her inner-whatever didn’t

like being interrupted and this was the third time in a handful of minutes.

Sensing her frustration, Harding leaned down and did more than give her a chaste kiss. He

lured and seduced her with his lips. He traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue, and she opened

for him. But instead of conquering, he teased, licking and lapping at her mouth in a mixture of soothing

caresses and pure sex.

By the time he pulled away, she was panting and near begging for more.

Harding pressed his forehead against hers. “As soon as this party is over, we’ll talk.”

Another yell for Harding to “hurry his ass up,” and Tess nodded. “When it’s over.”

* * *

Four agonizing, dirty, nerve wracking, glorious hours later Tess was happy to see their

visitors pile into their SUVs and leave. The house was trashed, the yard was littered with cups, plates

and God knew what else, but none of it mattered.

Because they didn’t hate her.

The men didn’t entirely understand Tess’s thought process when it came to how she acted

with Ben, but the women had put them in their place.

“It’s not your job to understand. It’s your job to say ‘of course you’re right, honey’. Go on,

say it.” Maya had poked Alex with those words and suddenly the Prima was over his shoulder once

again.

She debated on hiring a witch to come over and purify their forest after all of the Prime and

Prima’s “activities.”

Tess stuck another pan beneath the steaming flow of water coming from the faucet and

absently washed it. Her gaze remained trained on Harding, his massive form moving across the yard,

picking up bits of trash and tossing them into a garbage bag. He’d sent her into the house with a pat on

her ass and told her to rest. She’d been through a lot today, he said.

Emotionally? Yeah, she’d been wrecked, but physically she was fine.

Hence the dish washing.

Harding bent over to snare a half-chewed bone and she bit back her moan. The man had a

snackable ass.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” The voice was soft and timid, but familiar to her.

Tess rested the pan on the bottom of the sink and grabbed a nearby dishtowel to dry her hands.

She was stalling. A pussy move, but she did it nonetheless.

“No more than it’s my fault, it’s not yours, Tess.” Still the tenor was gentle, barely a whisper.

Steeling herself, telling her heart that it needed to stay strong, she turned toward the speaker.

And stared into a set of eyes that looked so like…Ben’s. How had she not seen it before? The nose…

The eyebrows… The coloring. Ben, Ben and Ben.

“Millie. No one said you were coming. Did they hook you up with a car? You should have

been here earlier. There was a big party and—”

Millie shook her head. “Don’t do that. Don’t push it off.” The woman was so small, tiny in

their large kitchen, but her strength was unmistakable. While her voice might be timid, her rigid

posture and the determined gleam in her eyes were anything but. “I can feel how much guilt you’re

carrying around about Ben. It’s not healthy.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she wondered who’d told Millie about Ben. Then she remembered

she was looking at a Sensitive, someone who could poke around in people’s heads. “Maybe it’s

deserved. Maybe if I’d done something years ago, you wouldn’t have been with Alistair, and then Ben

wouldn’t have come looking for you and hurt Harding and then—”

“And then, and then, and then.” Millie shook her head. “Bad people do bad things. Ben didn’t

always have problems. I can’t remember the same way he can. I took after my mother so I’m a cat. I

wish he would have gotten help as he grew up. I wish he would have done things differently. But just

because he was looking for me doesn’t mean that what he did to Harding is my fault.” Millie took a

step deeper into the room and slid onto one of the bar stools. “If I hadn’t been kidnapped, then Ben

wouldn’t have come looking for me and hurt Harding. So, am I at fault, too?”

Tess laughed mirthlessly. “Did you suspect it though? Did you even think for a moment that

Ben was the one hurting your mate?”

“There’s no law against being wrong. No law against wanting to be sure before you

implicated a friend.” Pity filled the Sensitive’s eyes, and Tess tore her gaze from the woman. It was

the last emotion she wanted directed at her.

She didn’t deserve it. No matter what anyone said, she’d…

“Do you ever get tired of being the martyr, Tess?” Millie snapped at her. “Because you’re

going to keep beating yourself up over this, and then where will you be? Alone.” This was the first

hint of backbone within Millie that she’d ever witnessed. “Enough. Mistakes happen. You have a

mate who wants to do nothing more than love you.”

Tess shook her head in denial, but Millie continued. “Yes, I can feel it from here. He does.

So, you don’t have to let go of the guilt, but don’t let it rule you.”

It sounded so easy.

“It isn’t easy. It’s hard and it hurts and sometimes you’ll want to die from it, but you can’t let

it steal your life.” God, the words were so close to Carly’s, she wondered if Millie plucked them

from the bunny’s mind. And she wondered if maybe the women were right.

Millie reached toward her, and Tess closed the distance between them, sliding her palm over

the other woman’s. The moment their skin touched, Millie’s powers filled her, stroked and soothed

the ragged edge of her emotions. “You need to let go of your fear, too, Tess.”

“Millie…”

“Let me ask you something. Do you think Harding is an abomination? His family did.”

A growl built in her chest and she tugged against the female’s hold. “Of course not, how dare

you say that?”

“So, if he turns you and you become a white lion, does that make you one? His family will

think so.”

“It’s different,” she snapped. “Alistair was evil.”

“And Harding might leave the toilet seat up. That doesn’t mean you’ll start doing the same if

he Changes you.”

“It’s different.”

Millie snorted. Honest to God. The timid, beaten, and abused feline snorted. “It’s not and you

know it.” The woman’s gaze bore into hers. “You’re living on fear now, Tess. Let it go. Be happy and

mate the man before his balls fall off. You, more than any of us, deserve to be happy.”

But she didn’t. Not really.

Did she?

Millie squeezed her hand and released her, sliding from the stool as she did so. “The greatest

revenge you can ever have on him is to live your life and be happy. Ben was your friend and trusting

him was a mistake. Alistair was simply evil down to his bones. None of it had a thing to do with you

as a person. Your soul isn’t some black void waiting to suck other people in.” Millie sighed. “Live,

Tess. Just live.”

The woman left her, footsteps light, and she strained to hear Millie depart. Eventually, the soft

click of the front door reached her, and Tess slumped against the counter, emotionally drained.

Thoughts tumbled over one another, flickers of her memories overlaying each other as they

drifted past.

Yet, one thing slowly emerged from the tumult in her mind.

She wanted to live.

Well, she wanted to mate Harding, too.

Not necessarily in that order.

Harding’s heavy stomp on the back porch snared her attention. She turned toward the sound,

catching him with her gaze as he stepped over the threshold. He must have seen something in her

expression, and a look of concern overtook his features. “Tess?” He inhaled and his nostrils flared.

“What was Millie doing here?” He strode toward her and swept her into his arms, holding her close.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. We were just talking.” She reveled in the restrained strength of his body and the gentle

way he held her close. “It wasn’t my fault, was it?”

Harding cupped her face, stroking the soft skin of her cheek. “No, baby.”

His touch sent a tingle of desire through her, arousal unfurling like a flower opening for the

sun. With acceptance came the ability to feel, really feel. “And if…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “If

we mate—”

“When.”

“Cocky.” She stuck out her tongue. “If we mate, I won’t turn into him will I?” He opened his

mouth, but she cut him off before he could voice his opinion. “No. I won’t. Because I’m not him.”

“Exactly. You’re Tess. Brave, beautiful, strong Tess. My mate.”

Tess accepted the words, something deep inside acknowledging that they were true, yet she

still wasn’t sure. Guilt had fled at Millie’s words, the woman’s message ringing loud and clear.

Except fear ruled her conviction, pushed her away from the idea of becoming Harding’s mate. So,

instead of demanding that he bite her, she pulled from his arms and strode toward the hallway. She

ignored his scent, the pull of her body toward him, and the need to jump into his arms. Too much had

changed, shifted, and tilted in the last fifteen minutes. Too much…

In the archway, she turned back to him, wincing at the desolation in his gaze. “I need,” she

licked her lips. “I’m going to take a nap for a little while.”

And think.

And wonder.

And hope.

*

The door had barely clicked shut before Harding was on the move and striding toward the

guest bedroom. He was drawn to his mate, pulled by an unseen force, and he couldn’t bear being far

from her. He’d heard Millie’s words even though he’d pretended surprise at the woman’s presence.

And every syllable the female uttered was true.

It was a matter of Tess believing her.

Harding strode down the hallway, moving as fast as possible while keeping his steps silent. In

seconds he stood before her door, hands braced on the jambs as he leaned toward the solid piece of

wood that separated him from his mate. Her scent drifted to him from around the edges of the portal,

the sticky sweet honey calling to him like nothing else in the world.

He wanted to tear the door to shreds, demolish it and scoop his mate into his arms. He’d carry

her to his room, strip her bare, and then…

Damn, his cock was hard. He’d gotten used to it in the past week, falling asleep and then

waking with an erection to end all erections. All because of the curvaceous woman on the other side

of the door. He wondered if she was in similar shape, her body craving him as he craved her.

Maybe someday soon he’d find out.

Harding listened to the soft rustles of fabric and imagined her stripping her clothes from her

body, peeling away layers to reveal silken skin. The squeak of the mattress reached him and he easily

pictured the scene in his mind: Tess sliding beneath the sheets and settling on the soft surface. In his

fantasies, she’d been in his bed. With him. They’d cuddle close and with or without sex, he’d fall

asleep with her in his arms.

He’d be one lucky lion.

Maybe it was good that she held off. He had been gung-ho and ready to mate from the first

sniff, but if they’d taken the leap weeks ago, he never would have learned all he had about his mate.

He also wouldn’t have learned that his past was nothing. It was a blip on his life’s radar.

He’d suffered, true, but it paled when compared to Tess’s experiences. Yes, his family had turned on

him, but he’d found a new one in Ridgeville, hadn’t he? Tess had never had the security of caring

relatives, related by blood or not. Well, he was fixing that, giving her his family, bringing her into the

fold, and working to show her what love should be about.

Love.

He’d said the three little words, uttered them without hesitation and then not given her a

chance to analyze them to death. His Tess tended to grab onto a thought and wring the thing until there

was nothing left.

Was that what was she doing now? Poking and prodding at three little words?

Probably.

Harding pushed away from the door and eased back until he hit the opposite wall. He slid

down the hard surface and sat on the ground, unwilling to leave her yet.

Damn, hadn’t this become a pitiful habit? Every night since her return he’d done the same,

sitting outside her door until he was too tired to remain, just so he’d have a few more minutes of

being close to her. His cat was in a twenty-four-seven full on rage. The lion didn’t paw and scratch at

his mental walls, it tore and gored them.

It wanted out.

Harding wanted it to stay put. Patience. He’d repeated the word to his lion over and over

again, but it didn’t do a damned bit of good.

He sighed and let his head rest against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as he simply listened to

the sound of her breathing. It was deep and rhythmic, lulling him toward peace. Regardless of the

cat’s demands, he was calmer simply being near her. Nothing compared to this closeness.

The mattress creaked, his mate getting more comfortable. He could help her with that. Another

creak and rustle of fabric. She really was unsettled by Millie’s visit, and part of him ached to race

into her room and comfort her. But he wouldn’t.

This time the rustle of cotton came with a flutter of movement and the soft, rapid steps of his

mate racing to the bedroom door. She flung it open, and the waning sunlight shining through the

windows cast her in shades of golden cream.

Dressed in only a long T-shirt that clung to her curves, she was a vision of seduction, her

body calling to his lion like catnip.

“What are you doing out here?” Tess narrowed her eyes.

Rather than rising, he simply stared, drinking in her appearance. She’d make him leave soon,

and he probably wouldn’t ever get to do this again now that she’d caught him. So, he looked his fill

and demanded that his cat be patient.

“I…” What could he say? I’m stalking you. I want to be close to you. I love you. All of the

above. “I…” God, he couldn’t get a word out, the vision she presented was too much to allow him to

breathe, let alone speak.

Tess stepped into the hall and dropped to her knees beside him. She grabbed his hand and

twined their fingers together and spoke without speaking. She hadn’t done this since Ben’s final

attack, hadn’t initiated any sort of telepathic contact with anyone other than Maddy as far as he knew.

But now, she was doing it with him.

Feelings and emotions flowed to him, sliding beneath his skin as if they’d always belonged

inside him. In a way, they always had. She was his mate, his love, his forever.

Forever? Her mental voice was timid, unsure.

Harding was quick to reassure her. Of course. You’re my mate. I will never turn my back on

you, Tess. You’ll be by my side. Always.

But after Ben… You were so angry, Harding, and…

He cursed his own stupidity and blindness. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. I

couldn’t help being angry. I won’t pretend that I understood everything in that moment. We’ll

argue and make mistakes and you’ll probably growl at me a lot once you’re Changed. But that

doesn’t mean I don’t want you or love you, Tess. Never doubt my feelings.

Harding poured every ounce of emotion he had behind his words, praying that she believed

him. Nothing mattered beyond her. Not his past or hers, not their fears or worries about the future.

Nothing.

Shining tears formed in her eyes, the moisture increasing until two tears trailed over her

cheeks. He brushed one then the other away with his free hand.

“Sweet, don’t cry.” His voice was hoarse with his own tears fighting to manifest.

Tess sniffled and leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm as if she were already a cat scenting

her mate. She must have caught his thought because she stiffened, eyes intent on him. “What if I’m not

a cat? What if I’m a polar bear like Alistair?”

Harding grinned. “Then we’ll have kittens and cubs to love.” He used their entwined fingers

to tug her closer. “And we’ll love them so much, sweet. Nothing will make us turn our backs on them.

Nothing will tear them from our arms, and our pride will adopt them as their own. We have a family

here, Tess. You just need to open your heart a tiny bit, and you’ll see it, too.”

Tess’s expression changed, shifting from happy to sad to worried, and then to a deep resolve.

He sensed her growing love for him, the feeling giving him hope, along with a hint of apprehension

that lingered near. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She pushed to her feet, not releasing

his hand, and she tugged on him, urging him to stand.

Harding went easily, wondering what his mate had suddenly decided. He refused to let a

kernel of hope grow in his heart. They’d been taking things excruciatingly slow, and he didn’t want to

entertain the idea that their relationship was about to take a flying leap forward.

Only, with her next few words, he realized he should have let that hope blossom into full-

blown joy.

“I think it’s time to mate, Harding. I want to learn to love you and I want kittens and cubs

and…” Two more tears trailed over her cheeks. “And I want a family who will love us all.”

Chapter Eleven

“There is nothing better than awesome sex. Actually, there is: Awesome sex twice.” —

Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and awesome sex addict.

Tess had either made the biggest mistake of her life, or the most wondrous decision of her

twenty-six years and on to forever.

At Harding’s wide smile and sudden, crushing embrace, it hit her that her choice had been the

right one. His hands roamed her back, palms sliding along her spine, teasing the top of her ass, and

then returning to her shoulders. He gripped her upper arms and put a tiny bit of space between them.

She raised her gaze to clash with his.

“Are you sure, Tess? We can wait.”

Oh, he didn’t want to wait. She could read it in every line of suppressed need in his body and

the thrumming arousal that emanated from him in waves. Harding wanted her—desperately—and she

realized they were on the same page.

Already her body prepared for him, her pussy aching and heavy with need and growing

damper by the second. Even her human nose caught the scent of her arousal, her desire permeating the

air around them.

She put every ounce of sincerity, want, and need she possessed into her response. “I don’t

want to wait. I want to be yours, Harding. Right or wrong, good or bad, I want to be yours.”

Their focus remained intent for one heartbeat and then another before Harding grasped her

hand and lead her further down the hallway.

To his den.

His rapid pace didn’t allow her to become nervous, didn’t let a hint of worry sneak into her

veins and stall their progress. Before she knew it, they stood within the master bedroom, surrounded

by muted, masculine colors and massive hardwood furniture. It was a man’s room. Her man’s room.

Soon to be theirs.

Her soon-to-be mate turned to her, hands hovering over her shoulders, and she saw a hint of

trepidation within him. “Tess…” He released a barking, mirthless laugh. “I don’t know where to

start.”

She gave him a rueful smile. “I’ve never done this before, so I’m sure you know more than I

do.”

“Never…” Shock covered his features.

She shook her head. “No. I was never,” she turned her head to stare at the wall and blinked

back her tears. She had never and yet so, so many had. “I was never raped, and I never trusted anyone

enough to let them into my bed.”

With a growl, he was on her, turning her head and sealing his mouth to hers, tongue invading

her.

Tess wound her arms around his neck and wiggled nearer, fighting to be as close to Harding

as possible. She needed to be on him, in him, wrapped in his arms, and she never wanted him to let

go.

Their tongues twined, dancing and tasting each other as their passion grew. This was what

she’d been waiting for all these years. It was more than desire and animalistic need. She sensed love

in every shift of his muscles, every stroke of his tongue over hers, and every moan that slid past his

lips.

Those massive, gentle hands traveled over her T-shirt clad body, skimming her sides, tracing

her hips, and then on to the hem of her covering.

This was it. It was time. She wanted him, wanted to love and be loved by him, yet she

wondered if he’d be disgusted by what he saw.

He gripped the cotton and slid it higher, soft fabric skimming her skin, and a hint of his claws

teased her flesh. The cat had come out to play.

In slow increments, more of her body was exposed to the cool air of the room, and goose

bumps coated her skin. When the T-shirt got to her chest, she unwound her arms and held them above

her while Harding eased from their kiss. In a blink, the top was removed and tossed aside, leaving

her in nothing but her lace panties. Her large breasts were bared to his gaze, the slight dip of her

waist and curve of her stomach no longer hidden. This was her, Tess Boyd, in all her near-naked

glory.

“You’re so beautiful.” He growled, the planes of his face sharpening and a hint of his fangs

peering out from beneath his lips. “And mine.”

Tess opened her mouth to say…something. Except all she got out was a high-pitched squeak

when she suddenly went air born and flopped onto the bed in a bouncing heap. Immediately, he

followed her down, sliding into place beside her and tugging her close.

There was something wicked about being nearly nude while he was fully clothed. The rough

texture of his jeans scratched against her bare thighs, the worn fabric of his T-shirt skimming her

nipples.

Her hardened nipples.

She shuddered when the soft cotton brushed against the nubs, the incidental stimulation

sending her arousal even higher. She wanted him. She had no idea what to actually do with him, but

she wanted him nonetheless.

“I’m going to love you.” The words were roughened by his beast.

“I know.” Tess cupped his cheek, enjoying the silken feel of his fur against her skin.

“You have to tell me if I scare you.”

“I will.” She nodded to assure him and pulled his face toward her. She wanted another kiss,

another connection. And she got it.

This time the kiss was gentle, coaxing and sweet, yet no less passionate. Their tongues stroked

while he petted her arms, traced her body with gentle hands and explored her. The touch was sweet,

soothing and arousing at the same time. He squeezed her hip, fingers curling around to tease the edge

of her panties, and she shivered. His hand was so close to there and she wanted him to touch her

there.

Tess eased closer, trying to reposition her body so that his fingers ventured a little further

along the curve of her ass. Only…only that move pressed her hips to his, Harding’s hardened

thickness easily evident behind the confines of his jeans. Her mate moaned and rocked his hips and

she couldn’t help but mimic the movement.

He wanted her. Her. Tess Boyd, kinda-daughter of Alistair McCain, and maybe homicidal

psycho.

She sucked on his tongue and eased even closer, tossing her thigh over his leg as she fought to

press as much of her skin against him as she could. Then his length was nudging her there, hard, long,

and thick, and the heat of his hard-on seared her through the cloth separating them. She imagined

holding him in her hand, stroking him, kissing and licking him and…

“Gods, Tess.” Harding moaned and rocked his hips, sliding along her needy pussy. She knew

of arousal, of need and the necessity of slaking her desire. Sometimes it took a few flicks of her

fingers against her clit and that was the end of that. But what she felt for this man, this lion, was so far

beyond her past need that it was laughable.

Tess nipped his lower lip and enjoyed the fact that she was the one to make the massive lion

growl, snarl, and shudder with need.

She repeated her earlier motions, shifting and sliding her wet, panty-clad pussy along his

cock. “Harding.”

“Damn it.” He pressed their foreheads together, keeping his lips just out of reach. “I need to

calm down or I’ll fuck this up.” He took a deep breath and his scent surrounded her when he exhaled.

Harding opened his nearly white eyes, and his voice was closer to normal when he spoke. “Let me

make you feel good. Need my mate to come on my tongue. Need to make you scream my name.”

She had one answer, her worry floating away with every shift of their bodies against one

another: “Yes.”

Harding went into action, urging her to her back as he hovered above her. She lifted her head

toward him, anxious for another meeting of their mouths, but he evaded her. Instead of smoldering

kisses to her lips, he rained them on her body. First one to her jaw, then another to the bone-melting

spot beneath her ear. Yet another dropped on her collarbone, and then they became even more

overwhelming.

Harding captured her nipple with his lips, sucking on the nub and flicking it with his tongue.

Oh, God, she’d never felt anything so good. She arched into him, searching out more of the pleasure

he created. While his mouth was busy with one breast, his hand was quickly becoming acquainted

with the other. He kneaded and squeezed the sensitive mound, each caress stoking her arousal.

She needed. Damn, but she needed.

Her pussy was soaked and desperate, clenching and tightening with every pull on her nipple.

Pleasure raced through her, bouncing between her breast and her pussy and back again. She trembled

and moaned, shifting and squirming with his every move until she didn’t think she could stand any

more.

“Harding!”

Harding released her nipple with a chuckle and blew on the moistened nub. “Yes, sweet?”

“I… I don’t…”

His hand left her breast and skimmed down her body, sliding over the gentle roundness of her

stomach and finally stopping at the juncture of her thighs. He cupped her pussy, hand pressing against

the wet fabric. “Do you need something here, sweet?” He ground the heel of his hand against her

mound, the increased pressure sending frissons of pleasure dancing through her. “Tell me what you

need, mate.”

She didn’t have the words. Or rather she did, but she didn’t know how to force them past her

lips. “Harding…”

Harding’s weight left her, his massive body no longer touching hers. Opening her eyes, she

watched him rise to his knees and move down the bed to settle between her thighs.

Good Lord, how had she been so lucky to catch this man? He was a study in hard planes,

bulging muscles, and alluring wickedness and now he was going to…

He reached for her, hooking his fingers beneath the waist of her panties, and tugged them

down an inch. He looked to her with a single brow raised. “Okay?”

“Yes. Please.” He’d touch her or stroke her or something… She had no doubt that he’d be a

giving lover, and she couldn’t wait to come beneath his hands.

The bit of lace slid past her hips and over her thighs, caressing her sensitized skin during its

journey until it was finally drawn past her toes.

“Oh, sweet mate.” The words were a growl from his lion rather than his man.

Tess blushed, heat filling her cheeks, and she brought her knees together while placing her

forearm across her breasts. It’d been different when caught up in their passion, but now he was

staring.

“Oh, no, Tess. Don’t ever hide from me.” His brow and cheeks were covered in cream-

colored fur. He snared her wrist and tugged her arm from her chest, forcing her to expose herself once

again. He moved his attention to her thighs, sliding them apart, and now nothing was hidden from his

gaze.

“Oh, sweet.” He licked his lips. “Just a taste, sweet. Just a taste of my mate.”

And that’s what he did.

Harding repositioned himself between her spread thighs, shifting and lying on his stomach, his

mouth hovering over her aching mound. It’d take one touch, one lick, hell, one breath, to send her

flying over the edge.

He nuzzled her inner thigh, rubbing his silken fur along her sensitive skin. “You smell s’good.

Want.” He growled and flicked the seam of her pussy lips with his tongue.

Tess gasped and then moaned when he repeated the caress.

“Mmm…” Harding hummed, and again he tasted her, tongue dancing over her cream-slick

labia. “S’good.”

Her clit thumped in time with her heartbeat, throbbing and silently begging to be touched.

“Please, Harding. L-L-Lick me.”

There, she’d pushed the words past her lips.

He growled and pounced on her heat. He separated her sex lips with his fingers and delved

into her pussy. He went from teasing caresses to all-out war, his tongue and teeth assaulting her with

immeasurable pleasure. She spread her thighs further apart, opening and welcoming him. She wanted

everything he could give her and then some.

Harding sucked on her clit, tongue dancing over the nub as he tormented her.

Pleasure grew inside her, sliding through her muscles, forcing them to tighten and release with

each suckle. Shudders morphed into great undulating waves of sensation. There was no beginning or

end when it came to his attentions.

He teased her hole, her clenching opening where he’d soon invade her with his cock. Nothing

had slipped past that barrier, not even her fingers, and she tensed when he played there.

“Easy, sweet. I won’t hurt you.” He spoke the words against her clit, the vibrations demanding

that pleasure overcome her reticence.

Tess forced herself to relax. He wouldn’t hurt her, she knew that, but old fears died hard.

In slow increments, a single finger slid into her depths, the penetration odd but not

uncomfortable. He pulled out and then pushed in again, slipping through her abundant cream with

ease.

Harding returned his mouth to her clit, lapping at the bundle of nerves while continuing his

decadent penetration. He replaced one finger with two, adding a slight burn to the pleasurable

torment. But then… But then it got better. He did something with his fingers and his tongue, flicking

and sucking while pressing against her inner walls, and Tess arched off the bed with a shout.

“Harding. God. Good. There.” She babbled and didn’t give a damn.

“That’s my pretty mate.” With those words, he returned to his dedicated ministrations.

And drove her batshit crazy in the process.

Each touch, shift of muscle and stroke of her skin sent her nerves flying. Pleasure gathered and

swam in her blood, pumping through her body with every heartbeat. The tormenting fingers pressed,

twisted, and thrust into her sheath with an increasing pace, driving her wild.

That tongue… That tongue should be cast in bronze and commemorated for eternity. He licked

and flicked and circled…

All of it together made her crazy.

Another burn surrounded her pussy, but she didn’t care, not when he was rubbing that sweet

spot while teasing her clit.

Tess cupped her breasts, kneading them as he’d done. She stroked, squeezed, and pinched her

aroused flesh, her touches adding to her fiery pleasure. And it was growing with each passing second.

She ached to come on his tongue, his fingers, and she prayed it’d be soon.

She rocked her hips, searching for deeper penetration. It was there… So close… The ecstasy

burned her, set her alight in desire-painted flames, and she relaxed into the feelings. Her body was

living and breathing the sensations, and she didn’t want it to end.

“Harding. Close. Gonna. Good.” She could barely speak, the pleasure overriding every other

thought in her mind.

Harding’s answer was a vibrating growl, a sound that only spurred her desire.

She raced toward the precipice, completion and fulfillment nearing with every flex of his

tongue against her. Her movements became jerky, her body’s instincts overriding her control. She

writhed, screamed and babbled through the pleasure.

The edge was right there, so very, very close. Another hint of burn, another finger spreading

her wide for his penetration. That was what she needed: a hint of pain to dance along with her

pleasure, and then she was roaring and growling and snarling.

Tess was thrown off the edge of release, the ecstasy enveloping her in a massive hug as the

bliss flowed like molten lava through her veins. Her pussy milked his digits, sliding and caressing

them as she was overcome with the joy of her climax.

Muscles clenched and twitched, toes truly curling with the elation he caused within her. This

was heaven personified.

And still Harding continued. He rubbed that elusive spot inside her sheath while nipping her

clit, his ministrations slowing, but not ceasing. Her body screamed for him, that bit of animal inside

her demanding that she accept his possession, his mating.

Tess was in total, one hundred percent agreement.

In small increments, her pleasure eased, the ebb and flow slowing until it was like low waves

lapping at her consciousness. Before long, he slipped his fingers free of her pussy and sat up. He

brought his glistening, cream-coated digits to his mouth and lapped at them, tongue tracing each one.

“Now, this is delicious. So sweet like honey. My sweet, sweet mate.”

Love shined in his gaze, fierce attraction in every carved line of his expression, and pure need

pulsed behind the fabric of his jeans.

Without hesitation, Tess reached for him, holding out her arms as she begged for what they

both craved. “Mate with me. Make me yours.”

*

The lion rushed forward with Tess’s words, and it took everything in Harding to keep the

beast at bay. It wanted to sink its fangs into her now. Right now. No more waiting.

He reasoned with the cat, reminding it that their mate was human and not as strong as them. It

needed to recall that she deserved tender care after what she’d been through, and that pleasure had to

come before any hint of pain.

Grumbling, the cat eased back, granting him more control of his body.

“You’re sure? Last chance to say—”

Tess reared up and poked him in the chest. “No more second guessing. I said yes. Ask me

again and someone is getting kicked out of bed, and it ain’t gonna be me.”

Her snarling brought a wide grin to his lips. “Yes ma’am.”

He rolled from the bed and quickly threw off his clothes, more and more of his skin bared to

his mate by the second. His enhanced hearing picked up the steady increase of her heartbeat, and part

of him was buoyed by the idea that his mate was as excited about what was to come as him. The other

half prayed the rapid pulse wasn’t because she was afraid. The minute his shirt flew free of his head,

he looked to her and was relieved to find pure desire on every inch of her features.

There was no revulsion at the pale, puckered lines of scars that crisscrossed his body. His

family had done a number on him all those years ago, but rage at their presence no longer lingered.

Not with his mate at his side, healing him by merely existing.

Harding’s heart stuttered. Damn, she was his mate. This lush, curvaceous, beautiful creature

would be beside him until the end of time.

Without hesitation, he rejoined her, sliding between her widened thighs. Her glistening, pink

pussy beckoned him, called to him and urged him to slide deep inside her. Yes, his cat purred, inside.

Claim. Mine.

He definitely agreed with the beast.

His cock settled along her cleft, sliding through her heated juices. He flexed his hips, gliding

over her pussy as he kept his gaze on his mate. Expressions of pleasure, want, and need flitted over

her features. She gasped when the head of his dick nudged her clit and whined when he retreated.

“Harding,” she whimpered and wiggled beneath him.

“I’ll give you what you need, sweet.” He shifted his hips again, reveling in her mewling

sounds. “You know it’ll hurt a little the first time.”

She nodded. “Want it, though.” Tess brought her knees up and wrapped her legs around his

waist, squeezing him with her thighs. “You’ll be my first and last.”

He purred at the thought, his cat pushing forward and forcing the rumbling vibrations to travel

through his body. Which caused his mate to tremble and whine. Her nipples hardened to tiny, pebbled

nubs, and the scent of her juices increased. More of her cream coated his cock. He decided right then

that he’d purr as often as possible.

Balancing his weight on one hand, he reached between them and grasped his cock. An easy

shift gave him room and he placed the head of his dick at her slick opening as he got to the business of

tormenting her. Or rather, tormenting them both.

He teased her heat, sliding in a mere inch and then out again. Barely-there thrust and retreat.

Her pussy stretched around him, her flesh taut as it encircled his cock. Part of him demanded he

retreat. She was too tiny, her sheath too tight, and he worried he’d hurt her. But then she moaned and

arched into him, canting her hips to take him a hint deeper with his next thrust.

“Quit teasing.” She repeated the move, and three inches slid into her instead of one, yanking a

growl-tinged groan from Harding’s chest.

Choosing to give her what she demanded, he pressed forward, sliding his thick cock into her

waiting heat, eased into her with an agonizing slowness that drove him wild. He wanted to shove into

her, slam their hips together and roar as he claimed her.

Soon.

Harding slid deeper, watching his mate’s face with every flex and tightening of his muscles.

Silken velvet heat surrounded him, squeezing him like a vice, but he held his urges back. They would

only ever complete their mating once. It had to be perfect.

He fed her more of his dick, wincing at the hint of pain that caressed her features, the

lessening of desire in her eyes.

“We should stop.” It pained him to say the words, but he couldn’t ever give anything but

pleasure to Tess. Her answer was to lock her legs around his waist. “Damn it, I’m hurting you.”

“It’d hurt more if you didn’t mate me, Harding.” She tilted her head to the side, exposing the

line of her neck and slope of her shoulder. “Take me, mate. Make me yours.”

Snarling, Harding’s beast snatched control from him. He pressed deeper, sliding past the thin

barrier of her virginity. Then he was fully wrapped by her moist pussy, her walls rippling around

him. Tess winced at the pain he was sure he caused, and he rocked his hips to rub his pubic bone

against her clit in an effort to bring back the need he’d seen moments ago.

That shift brought desire flaring back into her eyes. “Do that again.”

Harding was only too happy to comply. This time, he eased his cock from her pussy and then

slid back in, making sure he pressed against that bundle of nerves. Her cunt tightened around him,

telling him without words that she enjoyed what he’d done.

Again he slid out and then into her. Nothing was more beautiful than the pleasure that danced

across Tess’s face, the way her breasts jiggled with each thrust, and the way her sheath clung to his

cock. Nothing.

With every moan he drew from her, he increased his pace. No hint of pain was evident, but he

was careful to watch for the first sign of her joy lessening.

Tess slid her hands along his arms and clutched his shoulders, pulling him down to her. He

didn’t break his pace, continuing in the maddening, easy rhythm he’d created.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, and he knew without words what she desired. With a deep

purr, he captured her lips and slid his tongue into her depths, tasting his delicious mate. Their mouths

battled as he fought with the need to conquer and claim.

Without warning, she tore her lips from his and tightened her hold on his hair. “More.

Harder.” She arched and rubbed her stiff nipples against his chest. “Fuck me, Harding. Mate me.”

“Tess,” he growled.

“Now.” She yanked his head back and licked his throat, scraping her blunted human teeth

against his neck. “Right now.”

With a snarl, he pushed up and gripped the mattress beneath his hands, digging his nails into

the soft surface.

Then he gave his sexy mate what she demanded.

Harding withdrew, almost sliding fully from her pussy, and then shoved forward, jarring her

and sending the headboard slamming against the bedroom’s wall.

“Fuck!” Tess dug her nails into his shoulder.

Seeing the bliss on her face and feeling the scorching tightening of her cunt, he repeated the

retreat and thrust. Again the headboard hit the wall. Again she screamed in ecstasy.

His lion preened and purred. They were giving their mate pleasure, and soon she’d be tied to

them.

But first he wanted her to come on his cock.

Putting himself to the task, he set a punishing rhythm, one that was bound directly to the ebb

and flow of his rumbling purrs. Out and in again, the smack of wood against the wall echoing his

thrusts. Her cunt clung to him, tightening and easing, milking him with exquisite torture. Pleasure

raced through him, snuck into every inch of his body, and the cat eased closer to the end of its internal

leash.

Fur slid through his pores, and his human nails were quickly replaced by his lion’s claws. The

crunch and crack of bone warred with Tess’s moans and Harding’s snarls. Even more, the slap of

their hips rose above the rest.

Every meeting of their bodies sent another bolt of ecstasy through him, the feelings tracing his

ever-reshaping frame. The cat wanted to play with its mate. His fangs lengthened in preparation of

biting her, and it was as if he could already taste her honeyed blood on his tongue.

The scent of their sex permeated the air, the flavors of sweat and their conjoined musk

creating the most sensual perfume known to man.

“Harding. God. S’good.” Her words were slurred, her hands clenching and fingers digging

deeper into his skin. She’d break through the thin covering soon and the beast rejoiced at the prospect.

She couldn’t bite them yet, but she could give them a tiny mark.

They wanted that. Desperately.

“Mine, Tess. Mine.” The words were barely discernable.

“Yours.” She released his hips and planted her feet on the mattress. “Harder. Please.”

Harding did as she demanded, slamming their bodies together and he shouted with the first

forceful meeting. Tess met him halfway, impaling herself as he thrust forward.

“Fuck!” He couldn’t have stopped, not when her screams echoed his, and the scent of his

blood joined that of their combined sex.

She’d marked him, branded him as hers with those tiny nails.

Harding moved on instinct, hips flexing without thought, and his fangs fully distended in

preparation of sinking into her flesh.

Tess’s yells grew, her pussy’s rippling contractions rolling from one into the other. His balls

pulsed and drew up tight against his body, preparing for his release. God, he couldn’t wait to fill her,

claim her with his seed and teeth. Then she’d become the beautiful shifter she was meant to be.

“Please. Please. Please. So close.” His mate begged so prettily. And he was happy to oblige

her. Pushing his own release back, he focused on her, concentrating on every twitch of her body.

“Harding…”

Tess’s muscles spasmed and her body froze. There it was: what he’d been waiting for. His

mate gave over to her pleasure, which meant he was now free to do the same.

Harding released his lion, allowing the beast to rush forth and join him in the pleasure of their

mate’s body. More of his fur rippled through his skin to coat him, and he had no doubt that the cat’s

eyes had replaced his own.

His hips continued their rapid pace, his balls slapping against Tess’s ass with every thrust,

and he gave in to his desire. His release gathered at the base of his spine and encircled him with

ethereal fingers, sliding over his cock and adding to his growing bliss.

He rushed to the edge of climax, his cat running headlong to the brink, and with Tess’s final

gasping scream, he threw himself into the abyss. He roared, the sound bouncing off the walls and

shaking the home’s foundation. While their yells mingled, he lowered to press against her body and

struck as pure, unadulterated pleasure filled them both.

Tess’s blood flowed over his tongue, the honey-sweetness soothing his cat, and the beast

reveled in his triumph. She was theirs now, irrevocably theirs. With those drops of blood, cum

pumped from Harding’s cock in blissful waves, filling her pussy. Each pull on her shoulder resulted

in yet another rolling wave of ecstasy overtaking him.

And still he thrust in and out of her, wringing whatever pleasure he could from their bodies

until he couldn’t take any more. His dick throbbed on the verge of pain, and it softened with each

thrust until he simply kept their hips sealed together. He wanted to stay there, inside her heated

wetness, for as long as he could.

This was home. This was peace. This was his mate.

Eventually he released her shoulder, lapping at the wound the moment his teeth slid free of her

damaged flesh. Part of him regretted the injury, but his cat reveled in the obvious marks of ownership.

Theirs. She was theirs.

When the gentle oozing ceased, Harding cuddled her close and rolled them, switching their

positions until Tess half-laid across his body. He sank into the spot, cherishing this moment. He’d

claimed his mate, his gorgeous, lush, virgin mate. No other would ever touch his woman. No other

had ever enjoyed the heated wetness of her body.

Tess stroked his sweat-slicked chest, fingers playing over the sprinklings of fur that had push

past his skin. “Promise me something.”

Harding grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Anything.”

“If there’s any chance, any hint, that I’m going to be like Alistair… I want you to put me

down.” Trembles wracked her body, increasing with every passing moment that he didn’t answer.

So, he lied.

“Of course, love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Of course.”

Chapter Twelve

“Sometimes life gives you the unexpected. Then you say ‘fuck you life’ and kick it in the

balls. Because—hello?—life is obviously male.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride

and woman who has perfected the art of ball kicking.

The craving for meat hit her first. Drool filled her mouth at the idea of a rare steak sliding

down her throat as her teeth tore into another hunk. She’d gorge on one pound after another until her

hunger was sated.

Spread out on the couch, head resting in Harding’s lap, she clutched her stomach. It rumbled

and growled, telling her she needed to eat. Now. This second. Minutes ago, even.

Another hunger pang hit her and her legs jerked, knees curling toward her abdomen.

“Tess?” Harding’s voice was soaked with concern.

Fuck, it was starting to hurt. Her gums throbbed, and she felt the massive growth of bones that

lurked, pushing and straining against their confines. Her skin prickled, pain rushing into her

consciousness as if a million ants tore and feasted on her.

She pulled her knees higher and rolled to her side, curling into herself and begging the aches

to recede. It was too soon, too fast. It took twenty-four hours to complete the Change, and then a

person would shift for the first time. At minimum it should have taken twenty.

It’d been barely fifteen. They’d woken in a mass of tangled limbs and then come out for

breakfast. They’d ended up watching the morning news on the couch as the sun rose on the first day of

their mated life.

“Fuck.” The word was a mix of an animalistic growl and groan, her new beast pushing further

into the party.

A bone in her shin snapped, and she screamed as the sound echoed off the living room walls.

Another crack, another bellow. Distantly she recognized that Harding was there for her, stroking her

firmly, the strong touch easing some of the pain of her fur sprouting.

Harding left her, and her head fell to the cushion of the couch. He reappeared before her,

crouching on the ground with his gaze centered on her, a look of both worry and fear filling his

features. “It’s okay, Tess. Let it happen.”

“Fuck that.” The rapid click, crack, snap preceded the pain that came with her fingers

breaking one by one. “I…hate…you…a…little…now.”

Her breathing came in heaving pants, body fighting through the agony that accompanied her

first change. Lord, no one had mentioned this. If they had, she would have begged to be sedated this

first time out.

“Sorry, sweet. No drugs,” Harding murmured while brushing sweat-dampened strands of hair

from her face.

“Bastard.” She shoved the word past her lips, and then a scream tore from her chest. Her back

bowed nearly in half, spine snapping, and just as quickly her abdomen contracted and pulled her

forward.

The momentum had her rolling, tumbling to the edge of the couch and finally falling to the

floor with a grunt. Harding scrambled away, pushing the coffee table free of her spasming body.

Through slitted eyes, she watched the rest of her fingers break and reform, thickening and shortening.

Midnight black nails formed at the tips, and the beginnings of glowing white fur rippled over her skin.

She closed her eyes fully, unwilling to see any more. Harding was a white lion, but even his

fur was more cream than true white. But a polar bear… A polar bear like Alistair had fur the color of

freshly fallen snow.

God save her if she ended up like him. Better yet, God save everyone else.

The agony continued. Pain bursting across her body until her world devolved into a ball of

never ending misery. Her moans became growls. Groans became snarls. Screams became outright

roars.

The beast was snaring and snatching control from her with an ever-increasing pace. Quiet

reigned, the shattering of bones giving way to her heaving, panting breath. Agony still controlled her,

but the basic structural change seemed to be finished. Now her muscles burned, searing her with fiery

pain as she bulked up. And if her beliefs were true, there was a lot of bulking to be done to get her

from just over five feet and one hundred eighty pounds to a jillion feet and half a ton.

God, if only water could squelch the burning torture.

Tess focused on the frantic beat of her heart, and she was thankful for the steady, albeit rapid,

rhythm. Instead of dwelling on her suffering, she counted the pulsing thumps.

One. Two. Three.

She ignored the screaming torment that attacked her thighs.

Four. Five. Six.

She pushed past the next wave of spasms.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

Would it never end? Wetness coated her cheeks and dripped to splash on the backs of her

hands. Well, at least what used to be the backs of her hands. She was tempted to open her eyes and

gaze at the massive paws, but fear held her in check. Seeing what she’d become would push her that

much closer to the end, and she wanted to hold on a bit longer.

Ten. Eleven. Twel—

With a massive shudder, the pain receded as quickly as it’d arrived, washing from her body in

a tsunami of peace. A heaving sigh escaped her lips—no, her muzzle—and she slumped to the ground,

bestial legs no longer able to support her weight.

And still she didn’t open her eyes.

She’d be a polar bear, and no matter how illogical her argument, she feared becoming like

Alistair. But Harding had promised. He’d promised to put her down if she turned into her fath—

“You’re so beautiful, love.” Awe tinged Harding’s mental voice, and she mustered enough

strength to reply.

“I’m him, aren’t I?”

“Open your eyes and see.”

“Don’t wanna.” She was a baby. Sue her.

Gentle fingers traced her toes and flicked her new nails and something inside her…moved.

Her beast, the bear, responded to Harding’s touch. It lumbered forth, its instincts overriding

Tess’s human thoughts, and demanded that they pounce on theirs.

She inhaled, breathing deep, and the scents that permeated the room filled her. Heat. Man.

Sex. Forest. Mine.

Tess couldn’t hide any longer. Not when she knew that Harding was hers and right there.

There. In front of her. Inches away. She forced her eyes open and her gaze met a smiling Harding, his

grin both goofy and overjoyed.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

She shook her head, wobbling with the movement as she became used to this new shape.

“Yeah, you are.” He leaned forward and rubbed his cheek on her snout. His scent wrapped

around her, comforted her, as she fought through the panic of not knowing her form.

Large, warm hands, fingers coated in cream fur, cupped her snout. “My beautiful, beautiful…

lioness.”

Tess jerked her head from his grasp, shaking and pulling from his touch. “No. Bear.”

“Stubborn.” He shook his head. “Look at your paws, Tess. Flick that pretty tail up here.”

That was the first moment she even realized she had a tail. It twitched, flicking like a cat’s,

and she forced herself to turn her head and look. Look at her long, lean body, short legs and a

decidedly feline tail. Surprise and joy pumped through her, a lion’s roar echoing inside her mind and

a feline purr slithering through her body. She vibrated from inside out as she looked herself over.

True, she was a shining white, but her body was in the shape of a cat.

Ignoring Harding, she pushed to her feet, looking herself over and drinking in every detail,

from her long, black claws to her sleek legs and still-twitching tail. Her legs wobbled, joints like

jelly, but she managed to stay upright while checking herself out. Her chuckling mate crawled out of

the way. She turned one way and the other, catching sight of the tip of her tail with each spin. Then

she was chasing the appendage, finally realizing why pups and kittens had such a good time doing the

same.

Tess disregarded the thuds and thumps that followed her moves, too intent on discovering her

new body. The cat still purred, content and happy with its arrival.

Suddenly a heavy weight landed atop her, and her purr disappeared to be replaced by a snarl.

Her stomach was pressed against the ground, but she struggled against the body on her back, twisting

and turning to get at the attacker.

“Enough.” The mental voice was tinged with a chuckle.

Tess stilled, lioness recognizing a stronger beast in their male. He’d told them to stop and

stop they would. Much to Tess’s annoyance.

“Good kitty.” Harding licked her, sandpaper-rough tongue digging into her fur and scraping

over the back of her neck. “My kitty.”

She relaxed into his cleaning, reveling in his care as he proceeded to lap at her neck and ears.

“Your kitty.”

Because she was both a kitty and his. In her heart she accepted the truth, the knowledge that

she truly wasn’t like her father, Alistair McCain, ex-leader of Freedom, and now deceased. She was

Tess Grange, mate to Harding Grange, and a lioness who had her entire life ahead of her. One to be

filled with happiness, love, and lots and lots of purring.

Lots.

And orgasms. She couldn’t forget those.

Epilogue

“Crazy is as crazy does, and I’m pretty sure everyone has a certain level of crazy. Just

don’t let it all out when you have company. It scares them.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the

Ridgeville Pride and a little more than crazy. But at least wearing a strait jacket can be fun.

“So,” Maya poked Tess in the ribs. “You don’t look crazy.”

She whirled on the Prima as snow white fur poofed from her skin. She had no doubt about

what the other lioness saw. Over the last two weeks, she and Harding had discovered that being

surprised or fearful had the cat responding quickly. Unfortunately, when the first hint of furball

manifested, her face looked like a massive white cotton ball.

Carly sidled up to them. “She does look like a Chia Pet, though.”

Okay, cotton ball or a Chia Pet.

Tess stroked her cheeks and neck, silently begging her new cat to take a step back. The strands

receded but didn’t fully disappear. She took what she could get. She and the cat hadn’t exactly settled

into their relationship. Tess wanted calm and peace. The lioness wanted Harding. All. The. Time.

Tonight was the first time they’d be leaving the house for more than a run to the grocery store.

Even now, standing in a clearing before her first run with her new pride and surrounded by

pride mates, she wanted the damned man.

“I’m not crazy.” Well, that’s what she tried to say, anyway. The stupid cat had decided that

fangs were needed.

“Huh?” Maya tilted her head to the side. “Did she say ‘I hot lady’? True, but that’s not all that

grammatically correct.”

At some point, Carly had wandered away, but reappeared with a food-laden plate in hand.

“What’d I miss?” The rabbit held out her bounty. “Carrot stick?”

Tess wrinkled her nose. “Not so much.”

Hey, that came out normal. She stroked her cheeks and noted that only fine hairs remained.

Carly shrugged and bit off another hunk. “Your loss.”

Maya cleared her throat. “Okay, so the thing about it is…”

Tess raised her eyebrows, waiting for the Prima to continue.

“Remember how I sorta did the whole ‘welcome to the pride’ thing?” She scrunched up her

nose. “Let’s consider that a trial run, shall we?”

“Maya’s sorta been making Alex cranky with accepting people in left and right without the

proper protocols and words and the whole knifey-bleeding thing.” Carly gestured around, a salad

dressing coated carrot in hand. The creamy sauce went flying, specks landing on the ground as well as

the rabbit’s shirt. “So, we pretend for, like, all of five seconds, and then we can do the run thing. Ta

da! Everyone’s happy.”

A movement in her peripheral vision caught Tess’s attention. There were people milling about

the clearing, snaring bits of food, playing with cubs or socializing, but it was one body that drew her.

The slow gait was unmistakable, the breadth of the shoulders, the fluid grace of the cat, and Tess

turned her head to watch Harding’s approach. Her pulse quickened, heart thumping, and her cat

purred as their mate neared.

“Aw, damn, we lost her,” Carly mumbled around a celery stick.

A slender hand gripped hers and squeezed. “Remember, you don’t know nothing about

nothing.”

Nah, Tess knew a lot about a lot, and most of it had to do with the man in front of her. This

massive, scarred and sometimes scary lion was hers, from the moment his first purr had rumbled

through her body, and he would be until his very last.

The second he was within grabbing distance, she pounced. Using her kitty’s strength, she

launched herself into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. He caught her with ease, large

hands cupping her ass and holding her close.

Without hesitation, she plastered her mouth to his, sliding her tongue past his lips and tasting

her mate. This was it. Her happiness. Her peace. Her now and forever and…

Carly’s low murmur intruded on their passion. “So, they’re gonna be busy for a while. I say

we get on with the show.” She clapped twice. “Let the run begin!”

About Celia Kyle

Celia Kyle would like to rule the world and become a ninja. As a fallback, she’s working on

her writing career and giving readers stories that touch their hearts and *ahem* other places.

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Copyright Page

Published by Summerhouse Publishing. Sealed with a Purr. Copyright © 2013 Celia Kyle. ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal
Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
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express written permission from the author.

Celia Kyle

http://celiakyle.com

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s
imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living
or dead, is completely coincidental.

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