On the Road: To combine two lives, first one must understand the components of each.

When Ryan Carpenter realizes the scientists he works for are torturing sentient beings, he
feels the need for penance in the form of helping the shifters free their comrades. To that
end, Ryan heads to Oregon to offer aide in shutting down one of the scientist’s training
facilities and freeing any captive shifters. He’s unprepared for one of the men, Sam
Abbott, a Texas longhorn bull shifter, to express an attraction to him. Unfortunately, Ryan
has secrets of his own, and knows if he becomes involved with Sam, a shifter, his own
transgressions against Sam’s kind would eventually come out, destroying anything they
might have built. Walking away—especially for the good of everyone—should be easy,
right?

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

Texas Longhorn Surprise

Copyright © 2013 Charlie Richards

ISBN: 978-1-77111-656-5

Cover art by Angela Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this
work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now
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Texas Longhorn Surprise

Kontra’s Menagerie: Book Thirteen

By

Charlie Richards

To my loving partner—Your support gives me the drive to continue.

Chapter One

Tapping a thumb restlessly on his thigh, Ryan Carpenter glanced around surreptitiously as
he waited beside the luggage carousel for his bag. Normally, he wouldn’t have to check
anything, but he’d decided to bring his M24, and that wasn’t something he could carry on.

He tried not to come off as twitchy as he wondered if any of his fellow travelers were

shifters like the ones he intended to help. It wouldn’t be surprising, and it was impossible
to tell. He sure as hell wouldn’t have known they existed if the scientists hadn’t recruited
him to work their security.

Ten years in the military and this was how he went out…by getting sucked into some

fascist scientist’s vendetta against another race that most people didn’t know inhabited
the planet.

Of course, at the time, he hadn’t known that shifters were sentient in their animal form.

It’d taken watching the animals…er…shifters while guarding them for six months,
followed by a guy also employed by the scientists and in the intelligence division, to get
him to realize the error of his ways. Well, it wasn’t even his ways. Outside what he
thought of as the line of duty, he’d never harmed an animal in his life, other than the
occasional spider or scorpion. He’d been following blindly.

Not something I’m proud of.
He spotted his gun case—the camo colors standing out against the pink, reds, and

blues of many of the other passenger’s luggage. When he snagged it, he got a couple
curious looks from others. Ignoring them, he kept his head up and shoulders back while
making his way toward the exit.

“Ryan? Ryan Carpenter?”
Ryan turned and spotted a tall, slender fellow with sandy-brown hair and a slight smile.
“Yes?”
The man stepped close and held out his hand. “I’m Luc Laurent. Kontra sent me. He

offers his thanks for your willingness to come.”

Right. Kontra’s the leader of this pack of shifters. He’d learned from Carson—a wolf

shifter in Stone Ridge—that shifters kept to a fairly strict hierarchy in their groups. They
had to do it to keep order, which assisted in assuring the continued secrecy of the race.

Ryan took the man’s hand and replied, “It’s no problem,” all the while wondering what

kind of shifter Luc was. He had a slight French accent and laugh lines around his hazel
eyes. Now that he’d confirmed Ryan’s identity, he appeared to relax, his shoulders
loosening and his smile widening.

“You may feel that way,” Luc replied, leading the way up an escalator, out of the

airport, and into a parking structure. “But it means a lot to us to get our brethren out of…
such a dangerous situation.”

He just nodded, uncertain what to say and not wanting, even inadvertently, to offend.

Years in the military had taught him when to keep his mouth shut.

Luc stopped at a navy blue SUV. Taking in the plates, Ryan noted it was a rental. He

wondered at that, hoping this wasn’t some elaborate set-up to get him alone to punish
him for his part in holding shifters hostage. Declan—the big alpha wolf from Stone Ridge
—had made him plenty nervous, but he hadn’t seemed the type to be vindictive like that.

Ryan opened the back door and placed his duffle inside. Keeping his rifle case with him,

he settled in the front seat, the case resting between his right thigh and the door. If he
needed to duck out for any reason, he wanted his weapons with him.

The shifter started the vehicle, but instead of backing out of the parking space, Luc

rested his arm on the steering wheel, turning to face him. “You don’t trust us.”

Feeling no point in beating around the bush, Ryan replied, “Probably about as much as

you trust me.”

“Fair point,” Luc said, nodding. Then, he cracked a smile and stated, “Except if you

were trying to deceive us, we’d scent the lies in your words.”

Ryan’s brows shot up. “You’re lie detectors?”
Luc shrugged. “That’s one way to put it. Unless someone is a professional con artist, we

can pretty much tell if the average person is lying or even omitting or stretching the truth.
A person’s heart rate will spike, their pupils often dilate, and there’s an increase in
nervous sweat. To a shifter, the nerves are the biggest indicator because it changes the
person’s scent.”

“Wow, that’s—” Ryan frowned and shook his head. How many times had he wished in

the last couple of weeks that he’d been able to tell how the scientists were lying to him?
Sighing, he slid his gaze out the window, not really seeing the other vehicles. “That’s a
handy ability to have.”

A calloused hand landed on his arm, giving it a squeeze. Ryan turned to see a

sympathetic expression on Luc’s face. “It’s not just lies we can scent out,” he revealed.
“Now, you’re feeling guilty. That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted you to know that we
appreciate your help and why we’re trusting you to aide us.”

Surprised at the compassion in the man’s tone, Ryan stared at the guy for a couple of

seconds. Finally, he nodded. “I really am happy to help.”

Luc returned his nod, released his arm, and got the SUV moving. After a few minutes of

silence, the shifter commented, “I know you just came from helping the Stone Ridge
wolves, so I’m hoping you don’t have a problem with gay men expressing their affection.”
Luc glanced his way, shocking Ryan by giving him a quick once over. “If you’re not gay,
that’s fine, but our group is made of a number of male couples and should you say or do
something derogatory, they won’t hesitate to retaliate.”

Licking his lips nervously, Ryan searched for the correct response. Finally, he settled on,

“I’ve swung both ways myself a time or two. I won’t hassle anyone.” In fact, the idea of
seeing a pair of guys openly make out was starting to turn him on.

“Like that idea, do you?” Luc asked, chuckling. “Yeah, some of them can get a little…

distracting.”

Ryan fought back a flush, suddenly glad for his tan. “Uh, I’ll try to stay out of the way,”

he mumbled.

Grunting, Luc glanced toward him. Ryan could see the man sweep his gaze over him

again out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it.

He felt flattered, really, he did, but Luc wasn’t his type. The couple of times he’d been

with another man, the guy had been bigger than him. He wanted someone who could
hold him down and fuck him through the mattress. He figured, with a shifter’s strength,
Luc could do that, but it wouldn’t be the same.

If he got horny, he’d be just fine with his right hand.
“So, if you don’t mind my asking,” Ryan started, needing something else to think about.

“How many different kinds of shifters are there? I mean, I’ve seen canine and feline
breeds—” He frowned, quickly adding, “Uh, is that the right way to say it? I don’t mean to
offend.”

Luc shrugged. “We use breed or race pretty interchangeably, so, no, that wouldn’t

offend us. Plus, there are probably most animals that you can think of, although the
canine and feline are the most prevalent. We have a couple fowl shifters in the group, me
included, as well as a python, a warthog, a chameleon, and a few others.” Grinning
suddenly, he winked and added, “Kontra’s a grizzly. I don’t recommend pissing him off.”

“Uh, no, definitely not,” Ryan muttered. His mind reeled as he wrapped it around the

new information. So many possibilities!

“So, where exactly is this facility?”
Grateful for the subject change, Ryan told him, “Northeast of here, near Hogback

Mountain is a training facility. They have several shifters there at any one time. Big,
aggressive ones that they use to teach us how to fight you all,” he admitted.

Grimacing, he remembered his own time there. He’d learned to take down a wolf,

coyote, and fox. He’d seen some of the altered soldiers take down a lion and tiger. He’d
just started treatment to enhance some of his own abilities—starting with eyesight and
agility—when he’d learned the truth from Raven.

The mysterious man had set him straight about shifters, helping him understand the

truth about the…race. Then, the guy had used shifters to save a fox he’d become
infatuated with and disappeared. Ryan hoped he’d meet up with him again someday, so
he could thank him.

“Sounds like it’s a good thing we have a doctor in our group,” Luc commented.
Ryan returned his focus to his shifter companion. He nodded. “I’m sure you’ll need

him.”

Fifteen minutes of silence later, after winding along two-lane roads dotted with more

fields and stretches of trees than homes, Luc turned the SUV onto a gravel single track.
The road disappeared behind Ryan as the pines closed around them, ratcheting up his
tension.

He was a hell of a long way from just about anything.
Luc sighed. “Relax, Ryan,” he said, his tone soothing and low. “You’re safe here.”
“Months of conditioning,” he mumbled. Shoving the SUV door open, he grabbed his

case and slid from the vehicle. Ryan inhaled deeply as he shut the door. Tipping his head
back, he enjoyed the sun warming his face for several seconds.

If he could just remember to keep breathing, he should be okay. He’d really like to

manage to get through his time helping the shifters and still keep from embarrassing

himself.

The fact that shifters could scent emotions to some degree was definitely eye opening.

Ryan had no desire to reveal that some of the bigger shifters scared the fuck out of him.

Chapter Two

Sam Abbott heard the rumble of a vehicle engine and the crunch of tires on gravel.

Must be Luc returning with that Ryan fellow.
He wasn’t certain how he felt about Kontra agreeing to use the human’s intel to shut

down a training facility somewhere around them in Oregon. Oh, Sam knew they needed
to shut down the facility. He just remained skeptical about trusting a human that had
worked for the scientists.

Still, Kontra seemed sure, and Sam trusted his alpha.
Returning his focus to his crossword puzzle, he read the next clue. Seven letters.

Pensive, melancholy, or thoughtful. Sam cocked his head, thinking. He knew that with
that kind of clue, the answer would be a synonym. He glanced at the space the word
should go and saw the second letter should be an I and the last letter an L.

“You are such a cheater!” Land hollered, throwing a couple pieces of popcorn at his

mate, Payson.

Payson—a hyena shifter with one or two screws loose, but more loyalty than anyone

could ask for—laughed and threw popcorn right back at his human mate. “It’s not my
fault I’m better at chess than you,” he crowed. “You’re just jealous.”

Land lifted a hand and pointed at Payson. “You didn’t deny it! You did cheat! I knew it!

What’d you do? How’d I miss it?”

Looks like their chess game is done, Sam thought, watching with amusement as Payson

grabbed Land’s hand and yanked him halfway across the coffee table. Chess pieces went
flying.

Yep, definitely done.
He watched for several seconds as Payson pulled a struggling Land all the way across

the table, into his arms, and laid one on his mate. Land immediately stopped struggling…
well, to get away anyway. Now, he wriggled over the table the rest of the way and
straddled Payson’s lap as they took the kiss deeper and really went after each other’s
mouths.

Looking away, Sam wished he could find his own mate. He wanted that…the all-

consuming need, affection, even the fighting. I want it all, he thought wistfully.

Wistful! Of course.
He wrote the word into the crossword puzzle just as he heard the door open. He didn’t

look up until he’d double-checked his work. Yep. That works. Smiling at his progress,
satisfaction filled him. He’d managed to get about half done while Luc made the run to
the airport.

Sam looked up when their guest’s scent tickled his senses—smooth and bitter, like the

finest scotch—it made him want to take a big drink of the man. The view of the guy was
just as nice. Maybe six foot two, strong, well-muscled limbs and lean lines, a chiseled jaw
and masculine features, topped off with shortly buzzed dirty-blond hair and a piercing

hazel-eyed gaze that was currently focused on Land and Payson—who completely ignored
the newcomer and Luc’s arrival and continued to make out.

Sam really wanted the guy’s focus on him. He rose from his chair, placing the crossword

puzzle and pencil on the end table. “You must be Ryan Carpenter,” he said, his deep
voice finally interrupting the kissing couple.

While a still-shy Land hid his clearly flushing face against Payson’s neck, the hyena

shifter grinned over at the new guy. “Oh, hey, man,” Payson greeted. “Welcome.”

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Ryan responded, then finally turned and focused on Sam. Licking

his lips, he nodded. “And, yeah, I’m Ryan.”

Meeting Ryan’s hazel eyes, Sam felt the blood rush through his veins. Mate!
He opened his mouth, not certain what he planned to say, but Luc interrupted him.

“This is Sam, Land, and Payson,” he said, pointing to each of them in turn. “As I’m sure
you can guess, Land and Payson are fairly newly mated.” He rolled his eyes and added
dryly, “They can’t keep their hands off of each other.”

Payson snorted while running his hands over Land’s spine provocatively through his

shirt. “Awe, Luc, you know there’s no reason to keep my hands off my mate while we’re
in our own place.”

Luc snorted. “Yeah.” He grinned and swept his gaze over the pair. “At least the view is

pretty.” He put his arm around Ryan’s shoulders companionably. “Don’t ya think?”

Sam couldn’t hear Ryan’s response over the blood roaring through his veins. An

undeniable need to get Ryan away from Luc surged through him. “Mine!” he snarled as he
lunged forward.

Grabbing Ryan’s arm, Sam yanked his mate away from a surprised Luc, who lifted his

hands, palms out. “Whoa, Sam. What the hell, man?”

Sam swung a clearly shocked Ryan around and pressed him against the nearby wall. He

positioned his big body between his mate and the rest of the group. “Get your hands off
him!”

“Zut, Sam,” Luc cussed at him. “What the hell are ya thinkin’?”
Sam glared over his shoulder at first, Luc’s scowl, then at an amused Payson and a

shocked Land. Sucking in a deep breath, which filled his lungs with his mate’s heady
scent, Sam moaned at the exceptional bitter smell and lowered his nose to the crook of
Ryan’s neck.

That’s when he smelled a slight acrid scent permeating Ryan’s aroma. It smelled

suspiciously like panic or fear, but since Sam now held his mate safe in his arms, he
couldn’t understand the cause.

Lifting his head, Sam frowned down at Ryan. The man he held didn’t meet his gaze.

Instead, his wide hazel-colored eyes focused straight ahead, staring at his shoulder. Ryan
trembled slightly, a sheen of sweat beading on his upper lip, and his breaths coming in
heavy pants.

Fuck!
Sam lifted his hands, settling one on Ryan’s shoulder and the other he used to cup his

jaw. Ryan jerked in his grip and his eyelids slid closed.

“Hey, hey,” Sam crooned, trying to get his instincts under control so he could reason

through what the hell was happening. He didn’t know why the man was so upset, and his
bull snorted in the back of his mind in agitation. “Easy now. Settle down.”

“Release me,” Ryan hissed through clenched teeth.
Confusion flooded Sam. Why would his mate not want him to touch him? Surely, he

hadn’t heard correctly. “What?”

Ryan swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His gaze flicked to Sam’s for a split

second, but it was long enough to see the worry in his eyes, the pupils blown wide.
“Release me, please.”

“Do as the man says, Sam.”
The throaty command from his alpha cut through his senses. It didn’t curb his need to

figure out what the hell was going on with his mate, but when his alpha commanded, he
listened.

Fighting his instincts, Sam eased his grip and took a step away from Ryan. He hated

putting space between them.

“Ryan, I am Kontra Belikov,” Kontra said, his tone sounding softer than Sam had heard

it in a long time…unless speaking with his mate, Tim. “Why don’t you come over here,
Ryan? We’ll get you set up in a bedroom upstairs. You’ll be able to recuperate from
traveling. I know how air travel can suck, especially with those small seats.”

Why the hell is Kontra rambling?
Movement from his mate drew Sam’s attention. “Y-yeah, that’d be…” Ryan shuddered a

breath. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Kontra held out his hand and it took every ounce of willpower Sam possessed to remain

still as his mate walked past him. He gritted his teeth against a growl when Kontra
settled his big, broad hand on Ryan’s shoulder and guided him toward the stairs.

“Land, Ben, I’d like you to come with me,” Kontra ordered softly. Then, looking over his

shoulder at Sam, he stated, “Go to your room, Sam. I’ll be there shortly to get a report
regarding this incident.”

Sam nodded, though he couldn’t stop his frown of confusion. Something had just

happened, something important, but he couldn’t seem to figure out what it was. All he’d
wanted to do was get his mate away from Luc’s possessive hold. How had Ryan ended up
so scared?

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled.
Tim gave him a sympathetic look as he grabbed Ryan’s bag where he’d dropped it just

inside the door. The human still clutched a case in a white-knuckled hold. Kontra’s mate
scurried up the stairs after the retreating group.

Once they were gone, Luc curled his lip at him, then stalked from the room toward the

back porch. Payson walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder. “You fucked that
up good, bull-man.”

“I—” Damn, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what had

just happened.

“Here,” Yuma murmured, handing him his crossword puzzle and pencil.
Sam took them absently.
“Is he your mate?” Yuma asked.

“Yeah,” Sam whispered. When had all his buddies arrived?
“That explains a lot,” Eli stated. “I believe he had a panic attack. I’ll head up and check

in on him.” The tall, slender python shifter started up the stairs, calling over his shoulder,
“I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled. He’d made his mate panic? How? That wasn’t supposed to be

how the mate-bond worked. The pull should have caused Ryan to relax in his grip,
respond to his voice, even his scent.

Pain and fear clouded Sam’s mind. What if Ryan didn’t feel the same attraction the

other humans in the group felt for their mate? Did that mean something was wrong with
him?

“Come on, Sam,” Caleb urged softly, tugging his arm.
Sam didn’t fight the chameleon shifter as he pulled him forward. On his other side,

Yuma held his other arm. The two shifters led him upstairs to his room and pushed him to
sit down on his queen-sized bed.

“Hey, calm down,” Yuma soothed, running his hands over Sam’s arms and his chest.
The petting relaxed him, especially when Caleb climbed onto the bed behind him,

rested his chin on Sam’s shoulder, and wrapped his arms around his waist. Sam placed
one hand on Caleb’s wrist and wrapped his other arm around Yuma.

“Thanks, guys,” he whispered.
“Congrats on finding your mate,” Caleb offered, his chin digging into Sam’s shoulder as

he spoke.

Sam gently knocked his head against Caleb’s and whispered, “Thanks.” Sighing, he

admitted, “I freaked him out and don’t know why…or even how. And I don’t know why I
couldn’t calm him down. Mates are supposed to be able to calm each other down,” he
finished uncertainly.

“Well, normally, yeah,” Yuma murmured, snuggling up against him. “But maybe there’s

something in his past we don’t know about.”

“Eli said he thought it was a panic attack,” Caleb piped in. “Don’t those have triggers?”
“I’ll have to ask him,” Sam said.
“Well, you know we’ll be there to help you just like you helped all of us,” Yuma

assured.

Two sharp knocks on the door saved Sam from having to think up a response. “Enter,”

he called, knowing it could only be a few people.

Into the room strode Kontra, followed closely by Eli and Emmett, Caleb’s mate. Without

a word, Emmett sat down on the bed and placed a possessive arm around Caleb. Sam
felt grateful the white buffalo didn’t pull his mate away from him. After his mate rejected
him, both he and his bull needed the comfort only his pack mates could provide.

Kontra turned a chair away from the fire to face the bed and took a seat, sprawling in

the large chair. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his thick dark hair before
rubbing it over his goatee and mouth. He waved his other hand at Eli, indicating he
should start.

Eli sat at the head of the bed, his back against the headboard, with the only leg

cocked, his foot flat on the mattress. His other leg dangled off the side. “Your mate will

be fine,” the doctor assured. “He’s dealt with a lot of change in the last six months. If I
had to guess, guilt plagues him for things I won’t even speculate about, and it all seems
to be hitting him right about now.” He leaned forward and patted Sam’s shoulder. “Give
him time.”

Sam nodded, then turned back to his alpha.
Kontra leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, allowing his hands to dangle

between his knees. He pierced Sam with a hard stare. “You want me to speak freely?” he
asked, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Caleb and Emmett.

Understanding the meaning behind Kontra’s words and actions, Sam swallowed hard,

trying to control the bile that wanted to bubble up his throat. He jerked a nod. Eli already
knew. He’d patched Sam up as best he could. The scar on his face wasn’t the only visual
reminder of those days.

He prayed what the other men were about to hear wouldn’t change their opinion of

him. He liked that, for the most part, his pack-members looked up to him. It felt good.

“Are you going to be able to perform, or will we need to…assist in some way?” Kontra

asked, his tone kind.

“I-I’m not sure,” Sam admitted.
Yuma rolled his head where it rested against his chest and peered up at him. “What

does that mean?” he asked curiously. “You know we’ll all help in any way possible.”

Sam snorted, his face contorting as tears filled his eyes. “I can’t have you fuck my mate

for me, though, can I?”

Caleb’s arms tightened. “Of course not,” the chameleon said. “I’ve seen you head off to

back rooms with people at clubs. Surely you don’t have, well, performance problems.”

Seeing no way around it, Sam met Kontra’s gaze. Looking into the understanding brown

eyes of his alpha, he admitted, “When I was twenty-two, a pack of wolf shifters found out
I was gay. It took eight of them, and I killed two of them and injured three others, but
they caught me. They chained me up in the attic of their farmhouse.” He could hear how
flat he sounded, as if reciting something that happened to someone else, but it was the
only way he could get the words out.

“They held me for less than a week, but it felt like an eternity,” he mumbled. He

swallowed hard, fighting nausea. “They used me. Raped me. Fed me just enough to keep
me alive. Kontra and Eli saved me, at least, physically.” He swallowed hard and finally
finished on a whisper, “I haven’t had anal sex since.”

Chapter Three

Ryan leaned his head against the headboard and closed his eyes, concentrating on his
breathing. He couldn’t believe the way he’d flipped out. The man—Sam—hadn’t hurt him.
In fact, the shifter manhandling him had been damn sexy.

And that’s why I freaked out. I responded to the man. I wanted to submit to him, be

held down by him, and feel more of his touches.

He knew humans paired up with shifters all the time. There were several human males

here, in fact, but never had he considered doing it himself. Of course, he hadn’t realized
they were even a sentient race until a few months ago. Still, did that make him
prejudice? He didn’t like that idea.

Shit!
A soft knock sounded at the door. Ryan cracked an eyelid and called, “Yes?”
The door opened to reveal one of the human mates—Ben, if he remembered correctly.

“I brought you a cup of coffee.”

Ryan didn’t drink coffee, but he didn’t want to be rude, either. He beckoned Ben

forward. “That was thoughtful of you,” he murmured, taking the cup. He wrapped his
fingers around the mug, enjoying the warmth even if he didn’t intend to drink the liquid.

“How you holding up?” Ben asked, cocking his head. “Your color’s better.”
Frowning at the steaming black liquid, Ryan asked, “Why do you think Sam behaved

the way he did? Luc told me I’d be safe, so I don’t understand why Sam pulled me away
from him. What was the point?”

He didn’t understand shifters and their behavior. He assumed just about everything the

scientists had told him was a lie, so that meant Sam had a reason for what he did. So
what was it?

To his surprise, when Ryan finally focused on the silent human sitting several feet

away, he spotted a blush heating Ben’s cheeks. “What?”

Ben shrugged. “I can tell you what I think, but you’d have to ask Sam to know for sure.”
“Okay,” Ryan replied, drawing out the word. “What is it you think?”
“I think Sam probably believes you’re his mate.”
“His mate?” Ryan frowned. He’d heard the term before, but wasn’t entirely certain what

it meant. “What does that mean?”

Nibbling his bottom lip, Ben appeared deep in thought for several minutes. Finally, he

said, “To a shifter, a mate is…kinda like the love of their life.”

“Uh, but he doesn’t know me,” Ryan pointed out.
“Doesn’t matter,” Ben replied. “It’s scent that tells them who their mate is. Sure, they

can fall in love and spend their life with someone who isn’t their true mate, but once they
meet that special someone designed by Fate to be their other half, claiming that person
and spending the rest of their life pleasing and taking care of them is pretty much all they
think about.”

“Uh…” Ryan’s fingers tightened on the mug nearly to the point of pain. “Is there a

choice?” He whispered the question, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Ben gave him an understanding smile. “There’s always a choice. Sam would never force

himself on you. He’s too nice a guy for that.” Ben rose and crossed to the door. Pausing,
he looked over his shoulder and said, “Bonding with a shifter is a big decision because it
completely changes your life, but ask yourself this…what would you give up to find
someone who’d love you unconditionally?”

The other man didn’t bother waiting for a response. He just headed out the door.
Ryan set the coffee cup aside and rose from the bed. He stood before the window and

peered out, staring at the trees. He’d never really thought about love before. He’d been
in one relationship—with his high school sweetheart, Rebecca. When he’d join the
Marines, she’d tried to stand by him, but Rebecca hadn’t been cut out to be a military
wife.

He sighed, thinking about the woman he’d left behind. The sex had been okay, but not

great. It wasn’t until he’d taken a dare from a gay military buddy and allowed a twink in
some backwater bar to suck him off that he’d realized he enjoyed cock more than tits.

Laying his hand on the window, he closed his eyes and struggled to relax. He’d come

here to do a job, and he’d do it. If he avoided Sam, the shifter wouldn’t have the
opportunity to get attached to him, right? Then, he could go home and forget all about
men that could turn into animals.

But what do I do with myself after that?
He’d never planned to make the military his life, but since his mother had died in a car

accident while he’d been deployed six years before, he’d had no reason not to reenlist.
After his second tour, he’d had enough and when he could, he’d gotten out. Doctor
Marlow had recruited him, at first calling it security. When he’d finally learned the truth,
after undergoing rigorous background checks and physical tests, he’d begun to feel
uneasy about the whole thing. Finding out that shifters were sentient had been the last
straw, and he’d rebelled, helping a fellow soldier bring the corporation’s headquarters
down.

Not exactly something that shines company loyalty on a resume, Ryan mused.
A knock interrupted him, again, and he wondered how these guys thought he’d get any

rest if they kept popping in on him. “Yeah?”

Kontra strode into the room. His gaze focused on him where he stood, and Ryan fought

back a shiver at the shifter’s intense scrutiny. “We need to talk.”

“Is this about Sam?” Ryan asked uncertainly.
“Well, we will have to discuss that, too,” he said. “But I want to talk about the facility

we’re going to shut down,” Kontra stated, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “How
large is it? How many people normally train there at a time? What kind of defenses does
it have?”

Okay, these kinds of questions he could handle. “Do you want me to tell just you or

should we go somewhere and gather the others?”

“You think you’re up to handling a room full of shifters, Ryan?”
Kontra didn’t beat around the bush, did he? Ryan shrugged. “Don’t know until I try. As

long as no one touches me or grabs me, I think I’ll be fine.” God, I hate admitting
weakness. Where the hell does this tension come from? Except, he knew. He’d nearly
been killed by a wolf shifter at the very facility he was about to lead these men to. If they
found out he’d killed the wolf, would they turn on him?

Ryan had no way of knowing and prayed he wouldn’t ever need to find out.
“Come on, then,” Kontra beckoned. “I’ll have everyone assemble in the great room

downstairs.”

Nodding, Ryan slowly followed. The second he left the safety of his room, he wanted to

turn right back around. Being in the military, in charge, this weakness fucked with his
head, and he knew it. Ryan took a deep breath and kept walking.

When he arrived back downstairs, he noticed the room filled with men. He spotted

Payson and his lover, Land, as well as Luc, but the others he hadn’t met, yet. Then his
gaze landed on Sam, who sat on a couch between two smaller men. Each had a hand on
his arm. Even though each of the smaller men were flanked by two other, larger guys, the
urge to cross to Sam and demand answers rode him hard…or just to kiss him and order a
good fucking.

Groaning mentally, Ryan did neither, willing away the blood suddenly pooling in his

dick, making him half hard. Instead, he perched on the arm of an unoccupied E-Z chair on
the perimeter of the group.

“Everyone,” Kontra called, getting the men’s attention. “This is Ryan Carpenter. He’s

going to give us specifics on the scientist’s training facility, then we’ll make plans.”

For the next half an hour, Ryan explained everything he could remember about the

facility. He knew it was possible that things had changed—things like the number of
guards, the number of shifters held, or even the number of trainees. He told the shifters
this.

Kontra said it was no problem. They’d done this kind of thing before and knew how to

improvise on the fly.

Ryan sure as hell hoped so.
“There’s one other thing,” he said, finally.
“What’s that?” Kontra asked, tilting his head.
Payson leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “I know.”
Ryan’s brows shot up. “Huh?”
“I know the last thing,” the shifter—hyena, if Ryan remembered correctly—said. Payson

smirked, his dark eyes glittering. “The shifters are probably drugged, right? They won’t
know which way is up, let alone who’s friend or foe.”

Responses ranged from gasps to snarls to stony and angry expressions. Everyone

turned to look at Ryan. He did his best not to cringe under the focus of over a dozen men,
but knew he’d failed when Sam growled softly and glared at the others. If he’d been
sitting next to the shifter, Ryan just knew the man would have placed himself between
Ryan and all his friends.

That knowledge kinda made Ryan feel…warm.
Not willing to examine that realization too closely, Ryan tore his focus away from the

big shifter and swept his gaze over the rest of the men. He didn’t really meet any of their
eyes as he nodded. “Yeah. That’s about right.”

He wondered how Payson knew that, but figured it’d probably be better if he didn’t

know. Especially, if it was because of his suspicion…that Payson had been held captive at
some point. Keeping his gaze turned to the floor, Ryan waited for their responses.

For several seconds, no one spoke. Finally, Kontra stated simply, “Everyone be careful.

Don’t assume a captured shifter will back down because you’re a shifter, too.”

Everyone nodded or otherwise murmured their agreement. Then, Kontra told them that

they’d leave at six. Taking into account the two-hour drive, that would put their arrival at
about eight. They’d have forty, maybe forty-five, minutes of daylight to check out the
place and get into position. Everyone nodded and stood, pairing off and heading either
upstairs or toward the back.

Ryan couldn’t believe it. That was it? He’d just told them that their fellow shifters could

be drugged and dangerous and all that was said was to be careful?

A shadow fell over Ryan, yanking him from his thoughts. He peered up and found Sam

standing over him.

Oh, shit!
Perhaps Sam scented Ryan’s trepidation, for he lowered into a crouch before him. The

man’s fingers flexed where they rested on his knees. He lifted one hand. Ryan tensed.
Sam moved it to his own face, running his thumb over the bit of scar that marred his left
eyebrow.

Ryan couldn’t help thinking that the scar running down the shifter’s cheek didn’t detract

at all from the man’s sexiness. Once again, his dick started to fill.

“I’m sorry I scared you before,” Sam murmured, grimacing. “I wouldn’t have hurt you.

I’d never hurt you.”

Ryan opened his mouth, gaping, and for several seconds, no sound came out. Snapping

his jaw shut, he sucked in a sharp breath, swallowed hard, and tried again. “Why did you
grab me?”

Sure, Ben had his theory, but Ryan needed to hear it from Sam.
“You’re my mate,” Sam stated simply, no hiding, beating around the bush, or coy

games. “I didn’t like another man touching you. Especially an unmated one, so I acted on
instinct. I needed to get you away from him.”

“Ben told me that might be the case,” Ryan admitted softly. He racked his brain for

something to say. Mates were a pretty big deal to shifters. He understood that. Except,
Ryan also knew that, if Sam found out about his past, he wouldn’t want him anyway, so,
the best thing to do would be to keep the man at a distance, regardless of what his ever-
thickening shaft thought. Stupid cock.

Then, when he was finished here, he could walk away, allowing Sam to find someone

better. His blood heated, this time from jealousy, at the idea of another touching Sam.
He quickly squelched the reaction.

With his plan firmly in mind, he stated, “I’m not gay, Sam,” which was sort of true. He’d

always considered himself bisexual. “I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work.”

Sam blinked, his brows drawing together. The blood leeched from his face, expressing

his inner turmoil. The man licked his lips, obviously struggling for some response that
might change Ryan’s mind. Finally, his whispered hoarsely, “I know I could please you.”

Ryan managed to suppress his shudder, but could do nothing about the way his cock

pressed insistently against his fly, clearly more than happy to take the shifter up on his
offer. He just bet this man could please him…and then hurt him when Ryan’s
transgressions against his kind came to light. And Ryan knew they would. Skeletons
always seemed to find the worst possible time to pop out of their closets.

Evidently, Ryan didn’t hide his rising desire as well as he’d hoped. Of course, all the guy

had to do was look down at his crotch. At this point, Ryan knew—if he looked—the ridge
of his erection would be clearly displayed.

Sam leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ryan’s, sliding his tongue along the seam.

He gasped at the surprising move, giving Sam access to his mouth, which he took full
advantage.

Feeling the slick slide of Sam’s tongue against his own, coupled with the feel of thick,

calloused fingers cupping his jaw, massaging the tendons of his neck, caused his cock to
throb. He just about came in his jeans when Sam moved one big hand to cup him.

Ryan gripped the man’s wide shoulders, but instead of shoving him away, he found

himself clutching Sam tighter to him, his fingers digging into hard muscle. Sam must have
taken that as a sign of participation…or, at least, permission.

Sam worked open Ryan’s fly and pulled out his ridged dick. The first stroke of those

calloused fingers forced a strangled moan from him. Sam released his lips, only to lower
his head and, without warning, swallow Ryan’s throbbing erection, surrounding his cock in
warm, moist heaven.

“Holy shit!” he screamed as his body bucked.
Sam rode out the movement, never releasing him. He sucked hard, and Ryan felt as if

his brains were being drawn out through his cock. It felt beyond amazing, and Ryan never
wanted to leave this new hot haven he’d found for his prick.

All too soon, he felt his balls pull tight against his body. Ryan tried to warn Sam,

threading his fingers through the other man’s short dark hair and tugging, trying to get
his attention. “S-Sam. Sam, please.”

Sam didn’t back off. Instead, he peered up at him through his lashes, his eyes dark and

intense. The man on his knees growled softly, sending vibrations through Ryan’s already
over-sensitized erection.

Ryan’s mouth sagged open in a silent scream as his cock exploded. Seed pulsed up his

shaft in powerful spurts, crashing wave after wave of bliss through his system. He
doubled over—curving his torso around Sam’s head where he pleasured him—as the most
intense orgasm of his life sent him reeling.

“Sam!” he finally groaned, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes, knowing—even

as ecstasy pinged through his system—he’d never feel this amazing again. Sam had
ruined him for others with only a blow job.

His new lover moaned around his still jerking flesh, sending a fresh set of tingles

through his groin. “Fuck,” Ryan whimpered, spots dancing across his vision.

Prying his eyes open—shit, when did I shut them—Ryan peered down at the man who’d

just given him the most amazing pleasure of his life. Sam rested his head against Ryan’s
thigh, his own breathing ragged. He had one hand gripping Ryan’s thigh and his other
arm down his pants. From the man’s heavy-lidded, sated expression and his soft panting
breaths, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d come to.

Sam tipped his head and peered up at him, smiling tentatively. Ryan stared down at

Sam’s mouth, the mouth that had given him so much pleasure and that he could so easily
become addicted to.

The sobering thought hit him like a bucket of ice water. This could never happen again.

He had to push this amazing man away, for both their sakes.

Swallowing hard, he dropped back against the cushions and covered his face with his

arm. “Shit, that was a mistake.”

Chapter Four

Sam reared back, landing on his ass. No lover ever wanted to hear those words right after
blowing the man of his dreams. His heart squeezed in his chest. His mate had been into
it. Ryan had come, and from the way his entire body had clenched, he’d come hard. Sam
racked his brain, trying to figure out how pleasing his mate could be a mistake.

“I-I don’t understand,” he mumbled. “You enjoyed it.”
Sitting up, Ryan quickly tucked himself away and did up his pants. “Yeah, well, I’m a

guy. Someone sucks my dick, I’m gonna enjoy it, right?” Ryan snapped. Glaring, he
added, “Look, maybe it’d just be better if we kept our distance, okay? I don’t plan on
sticking around when this is said and done, so there’s no point in…” He paused and
waved his hand between their bodies, indicating the two of them.

“Never mind,” Ryan grumbled, jumping to his feet. “Just stay away from me.”
Sam watched his mate run up the stairs. Rising to his knees, he used a handkerchief he

kept in his back pocket to clean himself up, then tucked himself away, all the while
debating whether or not to go after him. Anger slipped through him like a slow burn. Not
at Ryan, but at himself. He’d already freaked Ryan out once, and after hearing the human
pronounce that he wasn’t gay, Sam should have taken it slow. He should have figured out
a way to woo his mate, win his affection. Instead, he’d practically attacked him.

Groaning, he dropped his head forward onto the chair’s cushion and inhaled his mate’s

aroma where it still clung to the fabric. His dick made a valiant effort to rise again, but
then the scent beneath Ryan’s base odor caught his attention.

Desire and panic.
Why? What would cause his mate to panic once again? Was it that he desired Sam? A

man? How could that be? He was in a house surrounded by gay men. No one would judge
him, especially since they all knew, by this point, that Ryan was Sam’s mate.

“Sam?”
Lifting his head, Sam found Eli staring down at him. The python shifter’s gaze swept

over him as his eyes narrowed in concern. He glanced toward the stairs where Ryan had
disappeared, then back at Sam.

“Everything all right? Ryan seemed a bit…freaked out.” Eli frowned. “Again.”
Rising to his feet, Sam sighed. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t—” He paused and shook his

head. “Ryan says he’s not gay, but his scent was off. So…” He drew in a breath, let it out
slowly, then admitted. “I kinda sucked him off and then he ran away.”

Eli smirked. “Your skills that bad?”
Sam scowled. “Fuck off,” he snarled, turning away.
Sighing, Eli grabbed his arm. “I’m just teasing.”
Grimacing, Sam nodded. “I know.” And he did. He also knew he was wound really tight

right now, and that none of his buddies would blame him for that, either.

Eli cocked his head, and for several seconds appeared lost in thought, staring at the

beams holding up the lodge’s vaulted ceiling. Sam knew his friend was doing the same as
him, trying to understand the human’s actions. Finally, Eli stated, “I’d normally tell you to
take it slow, since he’s human and all. However, this actually makes me wonder if he’s
not feeling, well, guilty over something. Maybe he has a girlfriend?”

“Awe, shit,” Sam mumbled, thinking about that. “I didn’t even ask.”
“Well,” Eli said, his thin lips curving into a smile. “We do have a nearly two-hour drive

ahead of us. Ben took Ryan coffee and chatted with him before the meeting. I’m sure
Mutegi can find out what they spoke of and start a conversation with Ryan in the van.
Perhaps we can get a little more information out of him.” Eli wrapped one arm around
Sam and gave him a sideways hug. “We’re there for ya, buddy.”

Feeling better knowing his pack had his back, Sam didn’t even need to force his smile.

“Thanks, man.”

Several hours later, those going to the facility trooped out of the lodge. The human

mates stayed home, along with Yuma, Lamar, and Eli’s wolf mate, Sam. Those men were
preparing the house for possible wounded and drugged shifters, including bolting chains
to several steel bed frames that they’d found at Good Will.

Sam knew he wasn’t the only one who didn’t like the idea of chaining up a fellow

shifter, but they had to think of the safety of their pack. They’d need to figure out if the
shifter was dangerous due to drugs, fear, or even brain damage.

During the drive, Sam sat behind the driver’s seat, which was occupied by Kontra. Ryan

sat in the front passenger seat. Next to Sam on the short middle bench was Mutegi, Ben’s
mate, and in the very back sat Vail—a wolf shifter—and his mate Draven—a vampire
warlock.

Luc drove a van they’d also rented, accompanied by Eli. The back was empty in the

anticipation of bringing home the injured. Payson had flat-out refused to get in either
vehicle and followed on his bullet bike. Emmett and Caleb also chose to ride their
motorcycles.

“Hey, Ryan,” Mutegi started, drawing everyone’s attention. “Ben says you did not drink

the coffee. Was there too much cream or sugar in it?”

Ryan half turned in his seat as he addressed Mutegi. “I, uh…I don’t actually drink

coffee. Never could learn to stand the taste,” he admitted. “I just didn’t want to appear
rude and refuse it, ya know?” He grimaced. “Sorry about that. Hope I didn’t offend.”

Mutegi lifted one, nearly black-skinned hand, waving away Ryan’s apology. “No, no. It

is fine. What do you drink, then? A favorite tea?”

“My momma always made amazing sweet tea, but it’s hard to find good sweet tea out

here,” Ryan admitted. “Otherwise just water, mostly.”

Sam filed that tidbit away, then wondered how in the hell Mutegi planned to segue into

what he really wanted to know.

“Ben also says he told you a little about mates and that you are Sam’s mate, yet you

do not wish to mate with him. Why is this?”

Okay, the direct approach. Sam just bit back his growl upon scenting Ryan’s immediate

unease, given away by the blood draining from the human’s face and the spike of anxiety

in his scent. Ryan glanced toward Sam, then immediately lowered his gaze.

Mutegi’s dark-eyed focus remained on Ryan, grinning, showing off white teeth. It was

the only bit of white on the dark African. “I ask only so we may help our friend move on
when you leave. It will be difficult for him, you understand.”

“Difficult? Why?” Ryan asked, frowning. Pinning a confused stare on Sam, he said, “I

thought if we didn’t bond and I left, you’d be free to mate whomever you choose.”

Sam swallowed hard and looked out the window, struggling to figure out how to

explain that he’d be devastated when Ryan left. Depressed and hurt that his mate, the
one Fate chose for him had rejected him. His animal would constantly fight for control, so
he could track down his mate. How could you explain something like that to a non-shifter
and make him understand?

“It’s not that simple,” Kontra said, saving Sam the trouble of figuring out how to

answer. “Even though we can choose to mate with someone else, once we’ve met that
special someone, if we tried to be with another we’d be fighting our animal every step of
the way. We are our animal, sharing some of the basic instincts, heightening our need to
please, protect, and care for our mate.” Kontra paused and glanced toward Ryan, who
stared at him, his mouth slightly open, the shock rolling off of him nearly in waves.

Smiling tightly, Kontra returned his focus forward and continued, “If our mate isn’t near,

it makes it difficult to do that, so we’re driven to hunt him or her down, so we can fulfill
not only their needs, but our need to care for them, too. Finding someone to replace a
Fated mate…well…” Sam saw Kontra’s big shoulders lift in a shrug, although he couldn’t
see his alpha’s expression. Finally, he murmured gruffly, “It’s next to impossible.”

“I, uh…” Ryan obviously didn’t know how to finish that.
Wanting his mate happy, even if that meant letting him go, Sam softly told him, “I

don’t want to force you into anything, Ryan. You said you’re not gay and you plan to
leave. I understand that. I might not like it, but I’ll respect your decision.”

His bull bellowed with grief in the back of his mind, and Sam swallowed back the bile

that rose in his throat at the very idea that Ryan would leave. He stared out the window,
unwilling to see acknowledgement or thanks, or even pity, on his mate’s face. It wasn’t
until Kontra started slowing the SUV and everyone began grabbing their gear that Sam
realized Ryan hadn’t ever actually answered Mutegi’s question.

In the dim light of twilight, the eleven men crept through the trees. They’d parked on a

service road six miles north of the place and circled southwest. According to maps, and
Ryan’s memory, they’d come up behind the facility where an expansive training yard
backed up to a seventy foot cliff face.

The group should have no trouble repelling down, if they could take out security. Once

they estimated they were within a half mile of the cliff, the men paused and Luc stripped
down.

Sam struggled with his desire to place his own bulk between the naked man and Ryan,

and only his mate’s staring pointedly in the other direction helped him maintain control.
Fortunately, Luc didn’t stay nude long, quickly shifting to his European Eagle owl form.

While Luc did that, Draven settled on the forest floor and mumbled a short spell.

Slowly, the vampire warlock’s eyes glazed over, giving him a vacant look. Vail stood over
his mate, his gaze roving over their surroundings, guarding Draven.

“And we’re connected,” Draven mumbled.
Luc hooted softly, ruffling his feathers.
“Okay, be careful, Luc,” Kontra warned. “If guards see you and seem suspicious, you

get the hell out of there.”

Hooting again, Luc spread his wings and took to the sky. They watched him circle

higher and soon he disappeared from sight. Sam knew it was ridiculous, but he actually
felt relief that the only other unmated shifter was no longer near his mate.

Draven’s grunt pulled Sam out of his musings. “Damn,” the warlock muttered.
“What’s wrong?” Vail asked quickly, crouching beside him.
“Technically nothing,” Draven replied. “I just didn’t realize I’d have a problem with the

heights.” The warlock grimaced, which looked really odd since his eyes were still glassy.
“It’s making me a bit queasy.”

Vail rubbed Draven’s back slowly. “You gonna be okay?” he asked, his expression one

of worry as he looked from his mate to Kontra.

“Yeah,” Draven whispered. “Just keep touching me. It’s soothing.”
“I’m not going anywhere, love,” Vail assured.
Sam smiled at the display. For years, Vail had claimed to never want a mate, then,

once he’d met Draven, it’d come out that Vail’s line had been cursed by a jealous witch.
Draven had been able to figure out the spell she’d used, including the fact that somehow,
Vail’s selfless actions helping gang-member’s mates had, at some point, already broken
it. Sam was happy for the wolf shifter. He was happy for all his buddies, if a little jealous.
He tried to remind himself that some of his friends had had trouble claiming their mates,
too.

Sam hoped like hell he could figure out a way to change Ryan’s mind.
“Okay, Luc’s coming up on the facility now,” Draven murmured. “It looks like the cliff is

seventy feet and abuts three different training grounds. There are two large garage doors
that open into each training ground and one standard-sized door in between each of
those.”

“The large doors are where the animals would be released from,” Ryan commented

softly, then his eyes widened and his face flushed bright red. “Shit. The shifters. It’s
where the shifters would be released from.” He took a step away from the group and
rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. “Sorry.”

Kontra held up his hand. “Relax. It’s an understandable slip, considering how you

learned about us.”

“Fuck, don’t do that!” Draven snarled. “Asshole.”
Vail growled. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“Luc’s swooping around doing aerial acrobatics,” Draven grumbled, gripping his

stomach and breathing deeply through his nose.

Payson snickered. “He’s a damn bird. What do you expect?”
“Wait a minute,” Draven murmured. “Veer back left….Yeah, get lower,” he said. His

eyes narrowed, although he didn’t actually appear to be seeing anything. “Is that a break

in the fence? Damn, it is! Where are the closest cameras?”

Sam shifted his weight, bringing him closer to Ryan. He didn’t like how the human

stood alone, his arms crossed over his chest, and eyed each of them carefully. He didn’t
expect the man to be relaxed…none of them were. They were about to go into a fight,
but surely he knew he was part of the team.

“Are you okay?” Sam couldn’t help but ask.
Ryan seemed surprised to find him so near, his brows shooting up as he peered at him.

“Oh, yeah, fine.” He turned, summarily dismissing Sam’s concern, and asked, “Draven,
what side of the facility is that break?”

“South side,” he answered absently. “Approximately thirty feet or so from the corner.”
“Hmm,” Ryan mused, rubbing his thin upper lip with one thumb. “There are three

rotating cameras near there. If they haven’t changed the timing sequence, there’s a
seven second gap on almost every panel. There’s twenty yards between the fence on that
side and the building. There should be an emergency exit ten feet from the corner of the
building,” he continued, his eyes narrowed, obviously searching his memory. “If one of
you knew how to open a door without a handle, that’d be a good place to enter.”

“Won’t it trip an alarm?” Eli asked, frowning.
“Yup, which will bring everyone to you,” Ryan confirmed. “There are several rooms on

that hallway, giving us plenty of cover to take out the guards.”

“I can do it,” Draven claimed.

Chapter Five

Ryan stared at the guy who’d been essentially seeing the facility through Luc’s eyes as
the owl shifter flew over the building. Owl shifter…who’d have thought? Of course, the
warlock could do it. He probably had some kind of spell to open locked doors.

“You got a spell for that, babe?” Vail asked what everyone was probably thinking.
Draven shrugged. “A good telekinetic spell should work. Just tell me how far down the

release bar is, and if you push straight, up, or down, and I’ll see about releasing it.”

Nodding, Ryan told them, “If we start heading down now, we can be in position in

probably forty minutes.”

“Why so long?” Kontra asked even as he motioned everyone to get ready. He turned to

Draven and murmured, “Pass the info to Luc and have him meet us around there.”

Ryan shouldered his rifle and unconsciously touched the handle of the pistol strapped to

his thigh. He hadn’t been certain which he’d need, so had no problem lugging the extra
weight. “The cliff tapers a bit to the south, but we’ll need to travel about a half mile out
of the way to get to a location where it’s safe to climb down.” He glanced around at the
collection of men. “It’ll be far quicker than setting up the repelling equipment for only a
forty foot climb.”

Payson snickered. “We could just jump. We’re all pretty agile,” he stated, winking.
“Well, I’m still mostly human,” Ryan replied, snorting.
“Mostly?” Sam stepped closer…close enough for Ryan to feel the man’s body heat, to

smell his earthy scent, distracting him…until Sam’s next question.

“What’s that mean?” Sam pressed.
Damn it. Ryan’s jaw tensed at his slip of the tongue. He hadn’t planned on sharing that

he’d started the altering process. He shrugged and started walking briskly toward the
section of cliff he planned to climb down.

“It means,” he said, deciding if he didn’t explain, Sam would just keep asking. Shifters

seemed to be a tenacious lot. “I agreed to go through the same, uh, enhancements that
a few others have gone through. Doc Marlow offered it to the top soldiers in different
fields to assist their ability to fight against…” He paused and gulped, glancing back at the
group of men following him. “Well, you all, not to put too fine a point on it,” he stated,
fighting back a flush.

“And what’s your field?” Kontra asked.
Hearing only curiosity in the big man’s tone, Ryan glanced over at the alpha bear

shifter. The man’s expression gave nothing away.

“Sniper,” he stated shortly.
“I thought you were a guard,” Sam commented.
Ryan shrugged. “I pulled guard duty at that facility in between, um, tests.”
Suddenly, Ryan’s arm was grabbed in a firm but gentle hold, drawing him to a stop. He

turned and faced the man holding him, not surprised to discover Sam staring at him with

a concerned expression on his face. He swept his gaze over Ryan as if assessing for
injuries.

“They did tests on you? Are you all right?” Sam didn’t give Ryan a chance to reply

before using his free hand to cup Ryan’s jaw and tilt his head up. Peering into Ryan’s
eyes, Sam asked urgently, “Did they injure you?”

The contact on his face and the concern evident in the bigger man’s tone caused Sam’s

blood to heat in his veins, and his heart pounded in his chest…and not completely from
arousal. He felt…cherished. He swallowed hard, trying to get moisture to his too dry
throat. “I’m fine,” he forced out, his words coming out softer than he’d have liked, making
the moment seem far too intimate.

“You sure?” Once again, Sam appeared to make a visual inspection of Ryan—not that

he could see much considering the black jeans and black, long-sleeved shirt Ryan wore.

Ryan fought his desire to mirror Sam’s move and cup the other man’s jaw, to touch and

soothe the creases on his lips and brow caused by his concerned frown. He lost. Gently,
Ryan lifted a hand and wrapped it around Sam’s nape, the warm skin beneath his fingers
causing even more heat to bloom in his body, sending blood south to his thickening prick.

While sifting his fingers through the short dark hair at the back of Sam’s neck and

massaging the tense tendons underneath, Ryan stared deep into the shifter’s dark eyes.
“I’m fine. They take the health of their human subjects very seriously. I’m sorry I can’t
say the same for their shifter subjects.” He leaned forward, intending to kiss the man, but
caught himself just in time. With a shake of his head, Ryan released Sam and stepped
back, pulling from the shifter’s grip. “We need to help your people.”

Maybe it was because Ryan mentioned the captured shifters, but Sam let him go,

nodding once. Turning around and starting again through the forest, Ryan found he
missed the warmth of the big shifter’s calloused palm against his cheek.

Damn it!
Clearing his mind of what ifs, Ryan picked up a jog. The sooner they shut this facility

down, the sooner he could get the fuck out of Dodge and away from temptation. His
heart tightened in his chest at that thought, making it difficult to breathe for several
steps.

He forced those thoughts from his head and concentrated on the area around them. In

ten minutes, they arrived at the cliff. It took Ryan another five to scramble down the
twenty feet without a rope. Twenty minutes after that, Ryan crouched down behind some
foliage, the shifters around him, and peered through the brush at the hole in the fence
line.

Ryan pointed out, first one camera, then a second. “You got two options,” he

whispered.

“What are those?” Kontra asked.
“We can do what I already proposed, or…” Ryan glanced at the two cameras again, just

to confirm what he thought. Yep. “I could shoot the cameras out, allowing all of you to
rush in at the same time.”

Payson grinned, his expression gleeful. “Oh, let’s do option number two,” he stated,

already stripping off his shirt.

“I’m game,” Vail stated, doing the same just as a buck-ass nude Luc joined them.
“Game for what?” the man said, taking his clothes from Mutegi.
“Fast and furious,” Payson said, snickering.
Ryan turned to Kontra, knowing he’d have the final say. The shifter’s eyes were

narrowed as he took in the structure. “How quick is the guard’s response time?”

Ryan thought about that a second. “You’ll have at least six military trained guards

hitting this end of the building in under five minutes.” He turned to Draven. “If you can
get that door open within ninety seconds, we’ll have no trouble getting to the rooms we
can use as cover.”

“How is the door set up?” Draven asked.
“Your standard push-bar style at waist height,” Ryan replied, indicating with his hand

about where the bar would be.

Draven shrugged. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Let’s do it,” Kontra replied.
Ryan heard a yip and turned to find a grinning hyena—its tongue lolling as if it were

laughing—sitting next to a large brown wolf. He took a step back, away from the animals,
before catching himself and stopping. Trying to cover his slip, Ryan glanced around at the
others.

“I gotta admit, I’m a little surprised more of you aren’t shifting,” he blurted his first

thought upon seeing the guns in the men’s hands.

Kontra shrugged. “A few of us might, in the heat of battle, but for most of us, getting

through doors or down hallways wouldn’t be easy in our animal forms.”

Caleb snorted. “Or we wouldn’t be much good in animal form for a frontal attack,” he

pointed out.

Ryan didn’t know what kind of shifter Caleb was, and his confusion must have been

apparent, for the shorter man chuckled. “I’m a chameleon. If we’d been sneaking in, my
shifting would make sense.”

“Ah,” Ryan squeaked.
“Let’s get this party started,” Emmett stated, hefting his Glock.
“Right,” Ryan replied, refocusing. He lowered himself to the ground and crawled

through the brush, searching for the perfect spot. It took him a second to realize he
wasn’t alone. Glancing over his shoulder, he found Sam mimicking his movements,
staying a few feet behind him. Ryan lifted a brow in silent question.

Sam just rolled a shoulder in a semblance of a shrug.
Ryan got it anyway. Sam didn’t want his mate in danger.
He did his best to dismiss the man. As long as he didn’t cause a problem with Ryan’s

shot, Sam could stand or lie wherever he wanted. Since the cameras were a hundred feet
apart, he’d have to sight quickly, but the shots weren’t tough. The whole point of
removing the cameras was to hide their numbers from the guards and trainers within.
Ryan didn’t remember hearing about hidden cameras on the exterior, so hoped the plan
would work.

Sighting down the barrel, Ryan peered through the scope. He took his time, checking

first one shot then the other. In his element, Ryan’s lips curved into a small smile as his

pulse slowed. Time seemed to stand still.

He let out a slow breath and squeezed the trigger, moved his M24, and fired again.

Almost within a heartbeat, both cameras shattered. Ryan leaped to his feet and, already
on the run, slung his rifle over his shoulder.

Two four-legged forms bounded past him and Ryan recognized Vail and Payson. They

easily wriggled through the hole in the fence and loped forward. He reached the broken
section, and to his surprise, Draven actually reached it right next to him. His eyes
widened in shock when he saw the man’s red eyes and the claws extending from his
fingers.

“Holy shit,” he hissed, stumbling back a step as he watched Draven easily slice through

the metal, creating a large enough gap for any of the men to leap through.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a set of large hands landed on his shoulders, but

then he recognized Sam’s masculine, earthy scent. It soothed him, which he found odd in
and of itself. Still, he looked over his shoulder and knew his wide-eyed expression held a
request for clarification.

Sam didn’t disappoint. “Draven is a vampire.”
“Vampires exist?” Ryan hissed. How the hell had he missed that little tidbit?
“Come on,” Sam urged, guiding him forward. “I’ll explain later. We have work to do.”
“Damn it,” Ryan growled when he turned and saw everyone else had already reached

the door.

Getting his ass in gear, Ryan shoved aside his trepidation, jumped through the hole,

and sprinted toward the door. “Everything okay?” asked Mutegi, who had paused to hold
the door open for him.

Ryan just grunted and headed inside, peering down the long hallway. The white walls

and rows of doors were the same as he remembered. Just as the emergency exit
slammed behind him, he saw two guards round the corner at the end of the hall forty feet
away. Acting on instinct, Ryan ignored the shifter’s shouts of warning, dropped to one
knee and brought up his rifle. He fired two shots and the guards crumpled.

He stayed where he was, waiting. Another pair of guards appeared, and he downed

one with his last shot while someone standing over his shoulder took out the other man
even as he reached for his Glock. He took the lull as an opportunity to reload. As he did
that, another pair of men appeared.

Before he could bring the rifle back up, the men each snapped off several shots.
Ryan dove toward the nearest doorway, executing a shoulder roll. The sounds of growls

and snarling reached his ears as he regained his feet in the room. He started to peer into
the hallway, but a broad-shouldered body blocked his view. Sam scowled at him.

For a second, Ryan thought the man would yell at him, considering how protective

shifters seemed to behave regarding their mates. Instead, Sam cleared his expression,
gave a sharp nod, and stated, “Nice shootin’, Tex.”

Ryan grinned, a surprised snort escaping him. “Thanks.”
Sam turned and both of them peered out of the room. Taking in the third pair of dead

men, Ryan cringed. He wasn’t certain if the men had died from the several gunshot
wounds on their chests or from having their throats torn out.

“Fuck,” he mumbled.
Sam didn’t comment. He headed down the hall. Averting his gaze, Sam slung his rifle

over his shoulder and palmed his pistol. He followed warily, watching for more guards. He
needn’t have worried since, at this point, almost all the shifters were between him and
the end of the hall. Only Mutegi remained behind him, watching their sixes.

Following the African’s lead, Ryan shifted his focus between the emergency exit—after

all, if they’d managed to open the door, surely the guards would be able to as well—and
peering into each room they passed to make certain they hadn’t miss anyone as they
trekked deeper into the training facility.

He heard the occasional shout of clear as well as the pop of gunfire. At one point,

Kontra ordered Ryan to lead Sam, Mutegi, and Payson to the control room and take
control of security. Kontra yanked a fire escape map off the wall, and Ryan pointed out
the route to the holding pens.

Ryan moved swiftly down the hallway, his firearm at the ready, and led the small group

toward the control room. They ran into two pairs of guards. Ryan and Sam both dropped
one in the first group while Payson seemed to have a grand time mauling one of the men
in the second group.

While his partner dove away from the hyena, leaving his friend, the guard popped off a

shot toward Ryan. Pain flared through Ryan’s arm as he slammed into the wall. Grunting,
he pushed forward just as Sam’s arms wrapped around him and tugged him sideways.

Mutegi popped off a shot and the pop-pop-pop of the guard’s gun ceased.
“Fuck, where are you hit?” Sam snapped, urging Ryan to the ground.
Ignoring the man’s guiding hands, Ryan moved away. “I’m fine,” he growled. “Just a

flesh wound. Let’s keep going.” He didn’t know when the guard had stopped screaming,
but now that the way was clear, they needed to get moving. Gritting his teeth through
the pain, Ryan strode past the bodies and pointed to the T-junction.

“The control room is down the left corridor, the first door on the right,” he stated. After

another couple of steps, Ryan felt a wave of dizziness hit him. He shook his head and
kept moving, ignoring the roaring in his ears. He’d been shot before, and knew it would
pass. He just needed to keep moving, keep his adrenaline levels high, and he’d be fine.
His sleeve would staunch the flow, although it’d be horribly painful to remove and clean
later.

Payson bounded past him, and he let the hyena take point. The shifter paused, peering

both ways, then disappeared to the left. Ryan hustled after him. Pausing at the T-
junction, he frowned.

Why the hell do I still hear roaring in my ears? And why is it getting louder?
Just as suddenly as Payson had disappeared, he reappeared and bounded past Ryan.

To Ryan’s shock, the hyena snarled and snapped aggressively as he stopped halfway
down the corridor, facing the other direction.

What the hell is the hyena doing?
Just as the thought passed through Ryan’s mind, a massive gold and black tiger

prowled around the corner. Payson growled low, clearly in warning.

The tiger focused on Payson for all of a second, then the beast’s nostril’s flared and the

shifter’s focus fixated on Ryan. A low rumble rolled through the creature. Ryan paled and
his hand slapped to his upper arm, sending pain spiking through him even as he tried to
staunch the flow of blood that the animal had clearly fixated on.

“Oh, shit,” Ryan hissed. He didn’t want to kill another shifter, so he holstered his

weapon and yanked at his shirt. If I can clean up the blood, it won’t focus on me. The
irrational thought flitted through his mind even as pain tore through his shoulder. He bit
back a roar, except…he still heard one.

His arms still tangled in his shirt, Ryan snapped his head up to see the tiger charge.

Payson headed the shifter off, but it was only a matter of time before the beast reached
him. A hyena was no match for a tiger.

A warning shot thudded into the wall near the tiger’s head, fired off by Mutegi. The

animal ignored it.

Sam roared. Fabric tore, bones cracked, and Sam’s body contorted and changed.

Payson managed to harass the tiger long enough for Sam to finish his shift. Ryan watched
in shock and an impressive amount of awe as Sam—now a two thousand pound Texas
longhorn bull, complete with sharp cloven hooves and deadly, nearly four foot horns—
bellowed a challenge before charging toward the shifter.

Chapter Six

Rage—and fear—like Sam had never felt before coursed through his veins, driving him
forward. One thought reverberated through his brain. Protect my mate! To that end, he
barreled down the hallway toward the tiger shifter.

The slick linoleum floor made purchase difficult, so Sam couldn’t move as swiftly as he’d

have liked, but he still managed to build up a pretty good charge. With his head lowered,
he slammed into the big cat, who’d been momentarily distracted by Payson snapping his
jaws at the beast’s haunch.

Twisting and leaping, the tiger managed to avoid most of Sam’s hit. However, the

splotch of red on the shifter’s shoulder where he’d managed to gauge the cat before he
could get away left Sam inordinately pleased.

Unfortunately, it also seemed to incense the shifter.
Roaring, the tiger leaped toward Sam with its paws reaching and claws extended. Sam

tried to move left, but his hooves slipped on the tile. Realizing it’d be impossible to
escape completely unscathed, Sam lifted and tilted his head, guaranteeing he wouldn’t be
the only one injured.

The tiger landed partially on Sam’s shoulders and partially on his horns. Blood poured

over his head and into his eyes, forcing Sam to shut them to keep the oozing liquid from
blinding him. At the same time, he felt long, razor-sharp claws sink into his barrel and
haunch. Sam couldn’t stop his bellow of pain.

Flipping his head, Sam sent the cat flopping sideways even as the weight of the animal

drove Sam to the floor. The shifter’s claws tore at his skin as he disappeared somewhere
to his left, Sam’s view of him blocked by his damaged peripheral vision from his old
injury. His body shuddered as pain wracked his side and right leg. If he could have
spoken in animal form, he would have been cursing up a blue streak.

A low growl echoed to his left, and Sam struggled to get his ass under him so he could

start to rise. Except, his right leg was having none of it. Agony coursed through the limb
and he paused, struggling for enough breath to keep the dark spots dancing across his
vision at bay.

Rolling his head on his thick neck took effort as a bull wasn’t really designed to move

that way, but he finally managed to get his head turned enough to see the tiger. The
shifter’s lower half was in even worse shape than Sam’s, with blood flowing steadily from
the left haunch, the scrape in the right shoulder, and puncture to its gut.

Still, the beast was using its intact torso and front legs to slide across the floor toward

his mate. Sam looked around, trying to figure out where Mutegi and Payson were. He
didn’t see them. Had they continued on to the control room to complete their mission,
thinking an armed Ryan and a bull shifter protecting his mate were enough to take out
one crazed shifter?

It was a reasonable assumption.

Except, when Sam finally pinned his slightly blurry gaze on Ryan, his mate wasn’t doing

what he expected. Ryan stood with his back to the wall, his gun raised, but the man
shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

His mate appeared pale as a sheet and seemed unable to pull the trigger.
Even though it went against his natural instinct, Sam visualized how a horse regained

its feet, front end first, and struggled to get his limbs to perform the unfamiliar actions.
Pain streaked through his barrel as he rolled and twisted, but he ignored it. Finally, he
managed to regain his feet, although his right hind leg wouldn’t hold his weight.

Hopping down the hallway, Sam had one target in mind, get between his mate and the

tiger. The offending shifter heard him coming and tried to roll onto its back and lift its
hind legs to claw at Sam. It didn’t work and Sam managed to hop past the tiger.

Once Sam reached Ryan, he finally managed to make out his mate’s mumbled words. “I

can’t kill another one. He’ll never want me if I do that.” Ryan actually lowered his weapon
and placed a hand on Sam’s head. “Oh, shit. I can’t let him hurt you anymore. What else
can I do? Tell me what to do?”

Sam appreciated that his mate was willing to touch him in animal form, letting him

know Ryan didn’t fear him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t communicate with the human while
in this form and didn’t really understand what kept Ryan from protecting himself. It was
obvious the tiger wasn’t giving up. Since it looked like he had a reprieve over the slower
moving tiger, he initiated his shift. A new kind of agony ripped through Sam as his injured
and broken body twisted and contorted, resuming his human form.

A solid arm around Sam’s waist kept him from just flopping onto the floor, and he

glanced over to see it was his mate holding him, offering support. “Are you okay?” Sam
gasped between panting breaths.

Ryan’s bark of laughter sounded a bit hysterical. “I should be asking you that.”
Sam smiled at the sentiment, and took the gun from Ryan’s hand. He turned toward

the shifter still slowly crawling toward them. “Stand down,” he commanded. “Stand down
so we can help you.”

In response, the tiger snarled, baring its fangs at them.
Lifting the weapon, Sam tried again. “Last chance,” he murmured, knowing with the

shifter’s hearing, he’d be able to hear. “Let us help you.”

The tiger lifted a paw and swiped at them, just missing as Ryan urged Sam backward.

That’s when Sam got a really good look at the shifter’s eyes. No intelligence showed in
them, instead, only rage and pain and aggression.

Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.” He lifted the Glock and fired.
The tiger shifter lay still.
Sam shook his head sadly. He hated taking another’s life, regardless of species, but the

tiger had ceased to be a shifter. There had been no spark of humanity in his eyes. Sam
sighed, knowing what he’d done had been a mercy. No shifter would want to live like
that, as only half of themselves.

As the adrenaline left him, the pain swept in. Sam grunted and he sagged against

Ryan. He moaned as the new position put pressure on his side and hip. “Fuck,” he
grunted as black spots once again danced across his vision.

“Shit, Sam,” Ryan growled, wrapping his second arm around him.
Damn, isn’t that a sexy sound?
“Now, I know you need to lie down,” Ryan grumbled, easing him to the floor.
Well, fuck, I must have said that out loud.
“Yeah, you did,” Ryan muttered. “Now, lie still. I’ll be right back.”
Sam’s lips twitched, and—even though he’d prefer to have his mate by his side—he

obeyed. Sighing, he stared up at the white tiles lining the ceiling. He concentrated on
filling and emptying his lungs with oxygen because it was a hell of a lot better than
thinking about anything else…like the pain permeating every inch of his body.

Shit!
“Just relax,” Ryan soothed, appearing again in his field of vision. He dropped a first aid

kit on the floor next to him.

“Where’d you have that?” he slurred, watching his mate pull supplies out of the small

plastic kit.

Ryan glanced at him before focusing on cleaning the wound on his side. “I was in the

military. Standard procedure to carry at least a rudimentary first aid kit in a combat
zone.”

“This a combat zone?” Sam mumbled inanely before hissing at the pain spiking through

his side.

“We did just get attacked by a psychotic tiger,” Ryan pointed out.
“Right.” Sam sighed. “Dumb question.” He hissed again, then wanted to kick himself for

showing weakness…or maybe that was because he’d made his mate grimace and glance
toward him, looking like he felt bad for causing him additional pain.

“Where are Mutegi and Payson?” Sam asked, wanting to focus on something else.
Not sparing him a glance as he applied a butterfly bandage to a particularly deep cut,

Ryan answered, “After you gutted the tiger’s back end, they figured we could handle it.
They went to take over the control room.”

Sam nodded, having figured as much. Red flashing in his peripheral vision drew his

attention to his mate’s right arm and he remembered what had caused the tiger’s focus.
“How’s your arm, babe?” he slurred, lifting a hand to catch Ryan’s sleeve.

Ryan smiled and gripped his wrist, gently dislodging his hold. “I’m fine. It just grazed

me. The force spun me around, hitting my shoulder into the wall, so it stunned me a bit.”
To Sam’s surprise, and pleasure, Ryan traced two fingers along Sam’s jawline. “Thank you
for pulling me out of the way of his next shots. I owe you my life.” His gaze focused on
the dead shifter for a second and he grimaced. “For more reasons than one.”

Before he could say what was on the tip of his tongue—that he always wanted to be

there for Ryan if only his mate would let him—footsteps pounding down the hallway
reached Sam’s ears. Ryan instantly went on alert, picking up his Glock and pointing it
toward whoever approached.

Just as quickly, he lowered the weapon and called, “Eli! Thank God. Sam’s been

injured.”

Eli dropped to his knees next to them. “Mutegi called me,” he said, sweeping his gaze

over both men, his expression assessing. “And it looks like he’s not the only one injured.”

“I’m fine,” Ryan countered.
“No, you’re not,” Eli stated, but he did turn back to peer at Sam. “However, you’re right

in the assessment that your injury can wait.” Eli ran his hands over Sam’s torso and
checked the bandages already in place. Next, he moved to Sam’s right leg and shook his
head. “I need to set your leg, Sam, and it’s going to hurt like a bitch,” he warned.
“Ready?”

Sam had known his leg was broken, probably in more than one place. He jerked a nod

and growled through gritted teeth. “Do it.”

“Hold his shoulders down,” Eli instructed Ryan.
Ryan obeyed, moving to Sam’s head and gripping his shoulders. Sam started to smile,

but then Eli moved his leg. Agony surged through his body, tunneling his vision. He could
hear Eli talking, although he couldn’t actually make out the words. He felt the heat of a
body draped over him and recognized the scent of his mate. Bringing up his arms, he
wrapped Ryan in a tight hug, letting the man’s scent soothe him. When a fresh wave of
pain surged through him, Sam didn’t fight the darkness.

A dull throb pulsed through Sam’s body, pulling him from the blissful darkness he’d

been enjoying. He wished he could go back to sleep, except he really needed to piss.
Swallowing, he tried to get moisture to his throat as he pried open one gummy eyelid.

“Hey, you with me?”
Sam’s brows drew together, hearing the softly-crooned words. Surely, that wasn’t his

mate? He doubled his effort, but the sleepers worked against him.

“Hold on, handsome,” Ryan murmured. “Let me help.”
He felt a warm damp cloth rub across first one eyelid, then the second. “Okay, try

again, Sam. Let’s see those deep brown eyes of yours.”

This time, Sam didn’t have any trouble opening his eyes. He blinked several times to

clear his vision and finally the shapes took focus. Upon seeing Ryan’s face, Sam smiled.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice scratchy.

“You had a lot of people worried, Sam,” Ryan said quietly.
From the human’s scent, that included Ryan. Although pleased that his mate cared,

Sam felt bad that he’d worried him…except… “What are you doing here?” he blurted out,
then instantly grimaced. “Sorry. I’m still out of it.”

Ryan nodded. “That’s understandable. I’ll go get Eli.”
“No, wait,” he called grabbing Ryan’s wrist. “Please,” he added upon seeing the man’s

frown. Almost instantly, the expression cleared and Ryan lifted a brow. Taking that as
encouragement, Sam murmured, “I really need to take a piss but…” He trailed off,
grimacing.

Giving him an understanding smile, Ryan nodded. “Gotcha.” He pulled the blanket off

Sam, and slid an arm under his shoulders. “Lean on me. We’ll getcha there.”

Sam sat up slowly, assimilating the pain in his abs, knowing there were a good number

of scratches and gouges hidden under the swath of bandages wrapped around his torso.
He could feel one on his left hip under his boxers as he bent his good leg and used it as
leverage to swing around, slowly, his broken leg. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Sam

felt a cold sweat break out on his brow.

“Maybe I should just bring you a bottle to piss in,” Ryan suggested.
Shaking his head, Sam grunted. “I got this,” he hissed, pushing off the bed.
Ryan clamped his mouth shut and steadied him as Sam leaned on him heavily. Getting

to have his arms around his mate almost made the broken leg worth it…until he took that
first jolting, hopping step. He couldn’t stop a stilted cry from escaping as pain jolted
through him.

“Shit, Sam,” Ryan mumbled. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. If I’d have been able to

just shoot the fucking tiger you wouldn’t have been injured like this.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Sam took the last step into the bathroom, grateful the

attached bath hadn’t been far from the bed. Sam leaned against the doorframe and—
deciding to take a chance—he cupped his mate’s cheek and drew him in for a quick press
of lips.

Ryan stiffened, but he didn’t yank away, offering Sam a glimmer of hope. He sipped

from his mate’s lips again, then eased away. “You weren’t the only one in that hall with a
gun, my mate,” he whispered. “If I’d controlled my fear and rage better, I could have shot
the damn shifter, myself. Or Mutegi could have. But I didn’t, and my animal’s pretty damn
big. I got in the way and took on a fight I shouldn’t have. It was more my fault than
anyone’s.”

Sighing, Ryan surprised Sam by nuzzling into his palm for just a second, then seemed

to catch himself and stepped away. “I’ll get Eli while you…” His voice trailed off and he
waved toward the bathroom.

Sam nodded and, leaning on the sink, moved jerkily toward the toilet. He was glad

Ryan was giving him privacy, even if it was at the cost of losing contact with him.

Ryan paused when he was halfway across the room and turned back to him. “Sam,” he

said, drawing his attention. “Let’s just call it the tiger’s fault.”

Smiling, Sam nodded. “Works for me.”
“Be right back.”
Ryan disappeared, and Sam shut the bathroom door and focused on relieving his aching

bladder.

Chapter Seven

Ryan hustled out of the room before he did something stupid…like grab the man and lay
one on him, then cuss him out for scaring the shit out of him. Sam had slept for a good
eighteen hours. Eli had assured Ryan that Sam’s body was just healing, and Ryan knew it
was irrational, but he hadn’t wanted to leave the man’s side while he slept.

Sighing, Ryan shook his head and grimaced. “I’m in too fucking deep already and I

hardly know the man,” he mumbled.

Uncertain how to proceed and knowing he’d have to make a decision soon, Ryan

happily shelved the decision and walked into the billiard room. He looked for Eli and
when he didn’t see him, he asked Ben where he might be.

“He’s checking the rescued shifters upstairs,” Ben told him.
Nodding, Ryan turned on his heel and headed back upstairs. The group had rescued

four shifters—two wolves, a bobcat, and a California condor. The wolves—who’d only just
arrived at the facility a few days prior—were brothers Richard and Crain, the bobcat—a
horribly scarred, rail thin, and traumatized shifter—introduced himself as Chip, and the
condor still hadn’t shifted, yet.

Ryan hadn’t actually met any of them, but he knew in general where in the house they

were being held.

Rumors already abounded about the bobcat, who Ryan had heard only spoke in

whispers if everyone was across the room—presumably to avoid getting hit if whatever
he said upset someone. The brothers were forthcoming about themselves once they
realized that Eli and Sam—also a wolf shifter—were mated. They’d been snagged while
on the run from their own pack, which took offense that the younger of the pair, Crain,
preferred the company of men. So far, the condor had refused to shift, refused treatment,
and only responded to Kontra’s alphaness.

The rooms had been set up in the west wing of the lodge and he headed that way.

Ryan could hear Kontra in the first room, talking to the condor, again, trying to convince
him to shift. He tapped the door gently and Eli’s mate opened the door.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Ryan murmured. “Sam woke up and I’m looking for Eli.”
The little wolf shifter pointed at the door across the hall. “He’s with Chip.”
“Thanks,” Ryan replied, turning away. He heard the latch click behind him right before

he lifted a hand and tapped softly on the indicated door.

Yuma—whom he’d learned was a penguin shifter—opened the door and peered out at

him. “What’s up?”

“I’m looking for Eli.”
“He’s doing some follow-up with Chip,” Yuma said. “Is Sam okay?”
Ryan nodded, figuring everyone in the house knew he’d been sitting with the bull

shifter. “He woke up. I thought Eli’d want to know.”

“Absolutely,” Yuma responded. “I’m sure he’ll be done here soon and over to see him

shortly. Grab Sam a bowl of soup and two of those white pills I showed you in the drawer.
Eli probably won’t be long.”

“Got it,” Ryan replied. He gave Yuma a mock salute then returned to the first level and

strode briskly to the kitchen. He grabbed a can of chunky soup, just knowing a shifter
would want something with meat, even while recovering, poured it in a bowl and shoved
it in the microwave.

Ryan grabbed a tray and placed a cup of tea, a glass of milk, and a glass of orange

juice on the tray. He didn’t know what the man liked, but figured he could drink any of
them if Sam didn’t want them. Once the microwave dinged, he grabbed the soup and
silverware and placed them on the tray, too, and headed back upstairs.

When Ryan knocked lightly and didn’t get a response, he pushed his way into the room,

thinking maybe the man had fallen back asleep. The room appeared empty. Frowning, he
called, “Sam?”

He heard a grunt followed by a hiss, then the bathroom door swung open, revealing a

very pale Sam. “Here,” he grunted, hanging between his grip on the door and sink.

“Shit,” Ryan hissed. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Sam had needed help getting to

the bathroom. Of course, he’d need help getting back to bed.

Quickly, he placed the tray on the nightstand, then hustled to Sam’s side. “Sorry, Sam,”

he apologized. “I didn’t even think.”

“Thought I could get back on my own, but can’t put any weight on my right leg,” Sam

admitted.

“Come on,” Ryan urged, once again wrapping his near arm around Sam’s waist and

gripping the guy’s upper arm with his far hand.

Sam grunted, nodding. He grabbed Ryan’s shoulder and together, they made their way

back to the bed. Ryan worked hard to keep from stumbling under the man’s weight. Sam
was in no way small…anywhere, he recalled from helping Eli dress the shifter

Knowing that wasn’t in any way appropriate, Ryan shut those thoughts down and

focused on getting Sam back to the bed with as little jostling as possible.

When Ryan eased the shifter’s broken leg onto the bed, he grimaced upon hearing

Sam’s hiss. “Sorry,” he instantly apologized again.

“It’ll be healed in a couple weeks,” Sam responded, waving a hand. Letting out a long

sigh, he settled on the bed. “But, shit, does it hurt right now.”

“Here,” Ryan said, striding back around the bed. “Eli says you can take a couple of

these pills for the pain. What do you want to drink?” He opened the nightstand drawer
and pulled out the small vial of white tablets.

“The orange juice will do,” Sam mumbled after glancing at the offerings.
Ryan nodded, tilting the vial and dropping two pills onto his palm.
“What are they? Aspirin doesn’t really work on shifters,” Sam commented, cracking an

eyelid as he watched.

“No clue. Eli didn’t say,” Ryan admitted. “I’m guessing some kind of pain killer since he

forced two down you when we first arrived and you slept like a baby the next six hours.”
Meeting Sam’s surprised gaze, Ryan shrugged. “Some kind of morphine that’s safe for
shifters?”

Sam grunted and took the pills, swallowing them down with a deep gulp of juice. “Hope

they work fast,” he grumbled.

“Eat,” Ryan ordered.
“Not hungry.”
Ryan’s brows shot up at Sam’s petulant tone. He just managed to keep from grinning.

The man wasn’t handling injury well at all, which begged the question of how he
managed to get the scar…and how hard to get along with was he while healing?

Deciding that was a conversation for another time—if he even stuck around, and when

did staying turn into an option in his mind?—Ryan picked up the bowl and held it out.
“You need to eat to heal. You’re a shifter. You have a higher metabolism,” he said, trying
to appeal to his mate—shit, not mate, Sam—with logic.

Sam frowned. “Fine. I’ll eat later.”
“Now,” he persisted.
Growling, Sam snapped, “Then you’ll have to force feed me,” before crossing his arms

over his chest and closing his eyes.

Ryan scowled, and just managed to keep from replying something equally ridiculous.

Deciding to call Sam’s bluff, Ryan parked his ass on the bed, his back against the
headboard with his hip against Sam’s shoulders. He placed the bowl on his lap and
spooned up some food, before reaching over with his free hand and plugging Sam’s nose.

The bigger man’s eyes shot open as he instinctively opened his mouth to breathe. Ryan

took advantage and shoved the full spoon into Sam’s mouth. Sam swallowed
convulsively, just as Ryan knew he would, and he pulled the spoon free as he released
the man’s nose.

Once the guy swallowed the bite of potato and beef, he snarled, “What the fuck?”
Shrugging, completely unrepentant, Ryan stated, “You wanted to be force-fed. I

complied.”

Sam’s eyes almost appeared to bug out of his head. “What?”
Ryan ignored the man’s incredulous tone, filled another spoonful and held it to Sam’s

lips. “Open,” he ordered. When Sam scowled at him, Ryan growled, “ Open, now.”

Sam’s eyes widened, then slowly, he levered himself into a sitting position beside Ryan,

and obeyed. For the next few minutes, Ryan fed Sam. They sat in silence and Ryan didn’t
miss how intimate the setting actually felt. Finally, Ryan scraped the last spoonful across
the bottom of the bowl, fed it to Sam, and started to rise.

By that time, Sam’s eyes had dilated a bit, telling Ryan the meds had begun to kick in.

Still, the speed in which Sam’s hand snaked out and grabbed Ryan’s thigh, stopping him
from moving, surprised him. He lifted a brow and peered at Sam.

“I know you enjoy my touch,” Sam murmured, his brows creased as if he were trying to

figure things out. “Why won’t you give us a chance?”

Ryan sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Could he be honest with this man?

If he told him now, when he was slightly out of it, would Sam remember tomorrow?
Would he get an honest reaction?

There was only one way to find out…and God he really wanted to find out. Ryan

couldn’t even blame his attraction to the man…and he was definitely attracted. He hadn’t

felt this level of desire or gotten so hard at the drop of a hat in…ever. Ryan also felt the
need to protect Sam. Sitting beside him for hours on end, watching his brows crease in
pain, Ryan had wanted to ease Sam’s obvious torment. He’d cared for him, wiping his
brow with a cool cloth for hours on end. He couldn’t ever remember wanting to care for
another the way he did for this shifter.

Swallowing hard, Ryan gripped Sam’s hand, sliding his fingers between the other man’s

where they were spread across his thigh. To Ryan’s pleasure, which would have freaked
him out only a day before, Sam flipped his hand over and entwined their fingers.

“If I explain and you don’t like it, will you promise to let me leave peacefully?” Ryan

asked quietly. “You won’t keep me captive or injure me?”

Sam’s eyes widened, and even drugged, he managed to look, well, offended. “I’d never

do that to you. You’re my mate, my heart, the one I’ll protect with my life.” His hand
tightened. “And I’d never allow my pack to harm you, even if they were inclined.” He
frowned and shook his head. “Which I know they’re not.”

“They might be if they find out that I’ve killed several of your kind,” Ryan blurted,

eyeing Sam warily.

From the confused—almost so what—expression on Sam’s face, Ryan knew the man

didn’t get his meaning. He sighed, realizing he’d have to explain further. “You wonder
why I couldn’t pull the trigger on that tiger?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s because
I’ve killed several shifters. Now, I realize they were innocents at that very same facility,”
he admitted. “It’s because over the course of the last year and a half, before transferring
to the Utah facility, I worked with a team of five other men tracking down and capturing
shifters. Of the six we were sent to capture, one of them, a lion shifter, I killed.”

He shuddered at the memory, reliving the memory, remembering the blood, the roars,

and the aggression of the shifter. “The lion had killed three of the men with me, and
injured a fourth. The shifter was preparing to kill the last one, so I took the shot. Doctor
Marlow labeled me a brave man and hero for at least saving two of his soldiers, and
offered me the chance to undergo their alterations.” Scowling, Ryan added, “I’d told him
how I couldn’t get a clean shot, and he told me there was a way to make my eyesight
even better.” Meeting Sam’s gaze, Ryan grimaced. “They were right. My eyesight now is
better than twenty-ten. If I focus, I can see every pore on someone’s skin when standing
at twenty paces.” Shuddering out a breath, he murmured, “If my eyesight was as it is
now when my team was facing that lion, I could have saved another two men.”

Ryan finally closed his mouth and turned to gaze at Sam, the almost flat expression on

the man’s face made him wonder if he shouldn’t have waited to explain when the shifter
was, well, not drugged.

Sam suddenly blinked twice, then frowned at him. “Wait, you think I’d be upset that

you killed shifters…in what sounds a lot like self-defense or in the line of duty?” He
cocked his head. “Ya know, I’ve killed shifters as well…and humans. Are you going to
attack me because I killed people for the same reasons?”

Ryan’s brows creased. Well, looking at it that way, it did sound kinda, well, foolish. “Uh,

no,” he admitted.

“I know the meds are hitting me hard at the moment,” Sam said, talking slowly,

obviously struggling to articulate. “But I don’t get why you’d think me or any of my
buddies would treat you any differently.”

Grimacing, Ryan closed his eyes in dismay. Shit, said like that, he sounded like a

bigoted asshole. “God, I’m—”

“Sam, good to see you awake, man,” Eli interrupted, striding into the room.
Ryan snapped his mouth shut, realizing he’d forgotten to shut the door. He watched the

doctor stride toward the bed, shaking his head at Sam. “What were you thinking? When
the damn tiger ignored Payson’s warning and charged, you should have just taken him
down,” Eli admonished. His expression turned sad. “Anyone could see the lack of
recognition in his eyes. The shifter had lost himself.”

Sam grunted and rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer.
Frowning, Ryan held up a hand. “Wait. Aren’t you a doctor? I thought you were

supposed to preserve life.”

His lips curving in a sardonic smile, Eli replied, “Sure. I’m devoted to preserving the

lives of my pack mates. That tiger obviously had lost his mind. Madness swam in the
depths of his eyes.” He shrugged and added softly, “No shifter wants to live like that,
Ryan. Putting him down was the best thing for him.”

Ryan nodded slowly, understanding. “Where’d he come from? How’d he get loose?”
Eli glanced up from where he carefully removed Sam’s bandages and checked the

healing skin. “While Kontra helped Vail calm the wolves, Draven opened the tiger’s door.
The idiot scientists didn’t have signs indicating what breed shifter was being held, so we
didn’t know. Draven barely escaped unscathed as it launched by us once it realized we
weren’t guards with guns and gonna shoot it right away. Emmett and I tried to calm him,
but we weren’t successful. When we realized the tiger had gone rogue, Emmett hollered
at Kontra. By then, it was streaking down the corridor. We tracked it, but by the time we
got to him, the beast had already found you all.”

The doctor returned to checking Sam’s wounds. “Well, the slices are healing nicely. The

bite on your flank will take another day or two,” he added as he rolled Sam’s hips slightly
and pulled down the edge of his boxers to remove and examine the wound on the back of
Sam’s hip.

Ryan swallowed hard, his fingers turning white where he clasped them between his

knees. Damn it all. He hated Eli touching Sam like that. He knew the necessity of it and
struggled to control his irrational desire to yank the doctor’s hands away.

Is this the mate pull at work? Would I feel this way if we weren’t mates?
Suddenly, Ryan realized it didn’t matter. He wanted this man, this shifter, irrational

attraction or not, and from Sam’s responses to his earlier statements, the guy didn’t seem
to mind that he’d killed shifters…in fact, he seemed to totally understand. Excitement
actually coursed through Ryan’s system, and he struggled not to get a boner as he
anticipated the feel of Sam’s hands on him.

“Your leg, however, is going to take another…mmm…maybe three or four weeks to

heal,” Eli warned, grimacing sympathetically. Shaking his head, the doctor stated, “The
tiger really did a number on it. Sorry, man.”

Sam shook his head where it rested on a pillow and sighed. “Naw, man. Shoulda kept

my head.”

Eli patted Sam’s shoulder, then turned to Ryan. “Well, he’s woken. What are you

planning to do now? Heading out of town? Staying?” He looked between them. “You are
mates, you know.”

It wasn’t a question, and Ryan knew it. He glanced toward Sam, seeing the shifter’s

eyelid cracked, one dilated eye watching him. Ryan licked his lips, uncertain how to
express his newfound discoveries, but knowing he had to be honest. “I’m not completely
sure,” he decided on. “I, uh…I guess when Sam feels better, me and him have a lot to
talk about,” he murmured quietly.

Patting his shoulder, Eli pushed away from the bed and headed toward the door. “Good

choice,” he commented. Looking over his shoulder, he added, “Get some rest, Sam. It’ll
help the ache in your leg.”

Sam’s fingers brushed over Ryan’s hand, drawing his attention. “You really gonna stick

around?”

Noting the man’s worried tone, Ryan flipped his hand and twined their fingers, giving

the other man’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised.

For several seconds, Sam’s muzzy gaze swept over Ryan’s face. Finally, Sam nodded

and stopped fighting his body’s obvious desire for sleep. His eyelids closed and his
breathing evened out, sleep claiming him almost instantly.

Ryan traced his fingertips over Sam’s sweaty brow, remembering all the expressions

he’d seen cross this man’s face. Concern, worry, fear, lust, desire, even possessive rage
and determination right before he shifted to protect him.

He’d caused this man to feel all those things. A need to see the lust and desire again

rode Ryan, erasing his guilt, and he wondered what he could do to illicit it soon.

Settling into the chair, Ryan propped his feet on the side of the bed and picked up the

cup of now lukewarm tea, ready to wait as long as it took to prove his sincerity. He’d be
there when Sam woke, then they had a shitload to talk about.

Chapter Eight

Sam once again woke to the surge and ebb of pain through his system. At least, he didn’t
feel the desire to chop off his leg to stop the agony this time. Cracking open an eyelid—
thank the gods he didn’t have them stuck shut again—Sam stared at the ceiling.
Frowning, he turned his head just enough to see the chair where Ryan had been sitting,
but it was empty.

Disappointment stabbed through him, numbing the pain with its intensity.
The toilet in the attached bathroom flushed. Hope blossomed in Sam’s chest as he

listened to water splash in the sink. A few seconds later, the door opened and Ryan
appeared.

Ryan’s gaze met Sam’s, and his hazel eyes lit up. “Hey,” he crooned, crossing quickly to

the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Relief and pleasure flooded Sam. “Hey, you’re here.” He leaned into Ryan’s touch,

nuzzling the man’s palm with his two-day growth. There had been no way he’d been able
to stand for a long enough period to actually shave earlier—was that yesterday?—but
Ryan didn’t shy away from the prickles.

Instead, concern filled Ryan’s expression. “I said I would,” he murmured. His brows

drew together. “But I understand why you’d be skeptical.”

“Why’d you decide to stay?” Sam asked.
For a second, Ryan stared at where he touched Sam instead of answering. Finally, he

met Sam’s eyes. “Do you remember what we discussed last night?”

Sam wracked his brain. After he’d taken the pills Ryan had given him, it didn’t take long

for his memories to become a bit disjointed. Whatever was in those tablets packed a
punch…and fast. From Ryan’s grimace, and the way he pulled his hand away, Sam knew
this was important.

He grabbed his mate’s hand and held on, not letting the man get away. “Give me a sec,

babe,” he whispered. “I just need a sec to sort things out.”

Ryan paused, nodding. “Can I get you anything while you do that?” he asked softly.

“Maybe some juice or toast?” A corner of his lip curved into a semblance of a smile. “A
steak?”

Sam chuckled at that. “I’m a bull. Steak doesn’t have the same allure as it would to a

wolf shifter, but I appreciate the offer.”

Ryan smirked. “You want a salad then?”
Liking that his mate was willing to tease him, Sam lifted a brow and returned his smirk.

“Only if it’s Caesar and you toss some chicken on there that I don’t have to kill.” The
mention of killing jogged his memory, and he sobered. “That’s what we were discussing
last night,” he whispered. “Killing.”

Ryan instantly sobered. “Yeah. Yeah, we were.”
The man settled on the side of the bed, and Sam took the opportunity to rest his hand

on Ryan’s thigh. “You’ve killed shifters before and worried I’d reject you because of it, but
my response is still the same, Ryan,” he assured. “I’ve seen my share of death, and so
have most of the guys in the pack. We’d never judge you for what you had to do to
survive.”

Nodding, Ryan murmured, “I appreciate you saying that. I guess…God, I don’t know

what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking we’d judge you,” Sam stated, keeping his tone even. “And after the

lies the scientists told you about us, it’s not surprising. You didn’t know any better.”
Taking a chance, Sam reached up and cupped Ryan’s jaw. “I’m hoping you’re willing to
stick around to learn otherwise.”

Ryan shivered under his touch. The knowledge that his mate allowed him to touch,

giving him the chance to have this conversation with him, heated Sam’s blood. His dick
thickened under the blanket and it suddenly struck him that he was nude. His mate had
helped his boxer-clad ass to the bathroom, touching him and wrapping an arm around
him. Where the hell had his clothes gone? Oh, right…Eli had removed them the last time
he’d checked his bandages.

Hope flared, just the same.
“I am,” Ryan whispered. “I, uh…kinda lied a couple days ago.” He glanced away, his

cheeks warming under Sam’s palm, turning a faint red.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, softly, not wanting to lose the contact. He brushed

his thumb over Ryan’s lips, desperately wanting to pull the man close and taste his mate
again. “What did you lie about?” He wracked his brain about when he might have scented
deceit from the man. He’d scented just about everything except that at one point or
other.

“I said I’m not gay,” Ryan murmured, focusing on Sam’s chest. “I consider myself

bisexual. I’ve enjoyed the attentions of both women and men.”

At his words, jealousy spiked through him. He had a sudden desire to seek out whoever

had touched his mate and strangle them. Knowing he couldn’t, Sam focused on what his
mate had told him, instead. “So, you’re saying you, uh, maybe feel attracted to me?” he
asked hopefully.

Ryan snorted, finally focusing on him. “Oh, I’m definitely attracted,” he admitted softly.
“Shifters do things awfully fast,” Sam acknowledged. “Since we know our mate nearly

instantly.”

“For humans, it doesn’t happen that quickly.”
“What are you saying?” Sam frowned, trying to understand the direction of the

conversation.

Ryan shrugged and met his gaze. “I don’t know.” Sighing, the muscles of his thigh

tensed. “Damn.”

Sam squeezed the muscle he gripped lightly, trying to reassure him. “So, we see if

we’re compatible. Sure, Fate seems to think we are, but we need to figure each other
out, right?”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, looking relieved. “Yeah.”
“So, was Eli able to find some crutches?” Sam asked, figuring his mate needed a

subject change. “I wouldn’t mind heading to the kitchen and gettin’ some grub.”

Ryan shook his head. “Sorry, nope.” He winked. “Eli has a pair stashed away

somewhere, but he wouldn’t give them to me yesterday because he says otherwise you’ll
put too much pressure on your leg. You’re on bed rest, handsome.”

He couldn’t help grinning, even though he didn’t like the news. His mate thought he

was handsome. “Then you better head off and do a kitchen run,” he teased. “Feed me.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and rose from the bed. “Fine. What do you want?”
“Coffee and whatever’s easy,” he replied.
His mate took a few steps away, then turned back to look at him. “Can I—” He paused,

obviously uncertain.

“What?”
“I want to kiss you again.”
Pleasure flooded Sam and his cock twitched under the blanket. “I’d like that.”
Ryan returned to the side of the bed and placed one hand on the headboard by Sam’s

head and with the other, he loosely cupped Sam’s jaw. For several seconds, Ryan just
stared into his eyes. Sam really wanted to lean up and capture Ryan’s mouth, but he
knew he had to wait for his lover.

Finally, Ryan pressed his lips over Sam’s, the pressure light. Sam reveled in the feel of

the soft rub—rub of his mate’s lips as he brushed them together once, twice. He fought
back a moan when Ryan nipped his bottom lip lightly. He did open his mouth a smidge as
he sucked in a surprised breath at the move, and Ryan immediately took advantage,
thrusting his tongue into Sam’s mouth.

This time, Sam released a growling groan, the sound rumbling up his chest and

swallowed by Ryan. Sam’s mate’s fingers dug into the tendons of his neck as he fed him a
growl, his tongue twining with Sam’s. He reveled in his human’s tight hold and the man’s
amazing scotch-bitter taste.

Ryan’s second hand delved into Sam’s hair and used the hold to tilt his head as he

deepened the kiss. They twined their tongues, dueling. Sam reached up, gripped the
shoulder of Ryan’s t-shirt and held on, tasting and clinging to the man he hoped to make
his lover.

Finally, Ryan eased back and Sam reluctantly let him go. He sucked a much-needed

breath into his tortured lungs. He swallowed hard as he opened his eyes and watched his
mate ease a few inches away from him.

“Wow,” Ryan whispered, peering intently at him.
Sam really liked the small smile playing at the corners of his human’s lips. He grinned.

“Yeah.”

Ryan licked his lips and took his time sweeping his gaze over Sam’s chest to where the

blanket covered his waist and legs. His attention snagged on Sam’s obvious erection
where it tented the sheet. He licked his lips again.

Sam swallowed his groan at the obvious lust blanketing Ryan’s expression.
“I’ll, uh—” Ryan paused and cleared his throat. “How about I take care of that after

breakfast?” he growled huskily.

For just a second, Sam’s voice caught in his throat. “Y-yeah.”

Ryan grinned. “Excellent. Guess I better feed you then. I want you to have a little

energy, at least,” he teased, winking as he pulled away. “Be right back.”

Sam watched his mate slip from the room. His heart pounded in his chest in

anticipation at what was to come. Then he realized his soon-to-be lover would probably
expect to do just that—make love.

His heart rate shot up for an altogether different reason and beads of sweat broke out

on his brow—and this time, not from pain, but from fear. Would he be able to keep an
erection in the face of penetrating his mate? He’d always lost his boner any time his
hook-ups pushed for it. Would it be different with Ryan?

He focused on his breathing, trying to decide what to do. Remembering Ryan’s honesty,

he knew he had to give the same courtesy to his mate. He needed to explain his hang-
ups to his soon-to-be lover.

Sam was just lifting his leg back onto the bed, having successfully traversed a slow,

painful trip to the bathroom—when Ryan came back from the kitchen. He returned his
mate’s smile as he pulled the sheet across his lap after getting his good leg up.

“Looks like you slept through breakfast,” Ryan stated, then waggled his eyebrows

comically. “But you’re in luck because Land was making grilled turkey and cheese.” He set
the plate on the tray on the nightstand, then—surprising Sam—he asked, “Do you mind if
I join you on the bed, again? I’ll be careful about your leg.”

Grinning, Sam beckoned with his hand. “I’d like that.”
Returning the grin, Ryan settled next to him, his back against the headboard. He

reached over, grabbed the tray, and rested it over their laps. “Eat while it’s hot,” he
ordered, pushing a plate with two steaming sandwiches toward him.

Sam chuckled, staring at the twin sandwiches. “Think I need that much?”
Ryan snorted. “I’ve seen you guys eat. Ya’ll are bottomless pits.”
“Ha!” Sam snorted, unable to hide his mirth. Ryan did have them pegged in that area.

With a shifter’s high metabolism, they often ate almost double what a normal human
would. He winked, then grabbed a sandwich half and took a big bite.

After swallowing, Sam picked up his coffee and took a sip, pleased to find it contained

just the right amount of cream and sugar. Taking another large bite of grilled turkey and
cheese, Sam’s brows drew down for a second…when had he discussed his coffee
preference with the man? He lifted a brow at Ryan in question, lifting the mug.

Shrugging, Ryan answered his unvoiced query. “I asked Tim how you took your coffee.”
“Huh.” Sam didn’t even realize Kontra’s mate knew how he liked the beverage.
Go figure.
He watched Ryan bring a mug of his own to his lips and take a sip, his smile curving

blissfully as he swallowed the black liquid. A quick inhale verified the scent wasn’t coffee.
“What is that?” he asked curiously. He couldn’t place the scent.

“Black Dragon Tea,” Ryan replied, before taking a larger swallow and humming happily.

Sam knew he must be showing his surprise, for Ryan chuckled and stated, “It’s a black
tea. Not as much caffeine as coffee and tastes a hell of a lot better. I don’t like coffee,”
Ryan reminded him. He shrugged. “I found it in the pantry.”

“You don’t like coffee?”
Ryan shook his head.
Sam held out his hand. “May I?”
Ryan hesitated for just a second, then handed him the mug, saying, “We swapped spit,

so why not?”

Barking out a laugh, Sam almost spilled the drink.
“Hey, watch it,” Ryan warned, although he did it with a smile.
Sobering, Sam brought the beverage to his lips and took a tentative sip. Not as bitter

as coffee, it wasn’t as thick either. “Not bad,” he said, handing the mug back. He certainly
wouldn’t be requesting it anytime soon, but he could understand the occasional appeal…
besides, if it made his mate happy, he’d make certain to have a box of tea bags in his
saddlebags at all times.

Sam glanced at Ryan from the corner of his eye several times over the next couple of

minutes as they ate. Finally, knowing he had to say something before embarrassing
himself, he stated, “I got the scar from a bunch of wolf shifters who…” He grimaced, then
changed tactics. “They’re not my only scars.”

Ryan chewed the last bite of his sandwich. He glanced down at Sam’s body, taking in

his scar-free chest, shoulders, and arms.

Shaking his head, Sam admitted, “I have scars across my lower back and between my

thighs.”

“Ah, shit,” Ryan murmured, his eyes widening in understanding. “Are you…does

everything…work? Are you okay?” he asked, stumbling over his words. “What can I do
to…um—”

Seeing his mate’s struggle with words, Sam rested his hand on the man’s arm and

squeezed, silencing him. “I’m fine, now, physically, but I’ve never—” He paused, his face
flushing at having to admit this. He felt grateful that Ryan waited patiently. “I’ve done
things with others since then, but I’ve never done anal. After the pain and torture those
shifters put me through I…” His words trailed off as he sucked in a couple deep breaths,
trying not to remember those few days he’d been in the asshole’s clutches. Never would
he cease being grateful that Kontra had been in the area.

Ryan nodded slowly. “I kinda wondered, because that blow job you gave me was mind-

blowing,” he admitted.

Sam chuckled, flushing, pleased his mate had enjoyed the experience. Sobering, he

finally said, “I don’t know if I can keep it up if you want to have sex.” He clenched his
jaw, choosing his words carefully. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to make love to you, but I
don’t want to…” He grimaced and shrugged. “Freak out. Not please you. Hurt you.
Embarrass myself. Embarrass you.”

Blowing out a slow breath, Ryan shook his head. Setting the tray aside, he took Sam’s

hand and squeezed. “You would never hurt me. I’ll admit it took me by surprise to learn
that shifters are something other than the monsters the scientists painted them to be,
but even I know mates don’t hurt each other.”

He brought Sam’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles gently. Sam’s tension eased

somewhat at the clear conviction shining through. It was so different than when they’d

first met just a few days before. “How do you know this?” he whispered, unable to voice
his question.

Shrugging, Ryan smiled, the move warming his hazel eyes. “I had a lot of time to think

over the last day and a half while you were sleeping.” Then, his cheeks flushed, maybe at
some memory, but he continued to hold Sam’s gaze. “And your friends would stop by
often to chat. It was like a crash course in shifters. Mating one-oh-one,” he finished,
chuckling.

“Oh,” Sam murmured, pleased his friends had given Ryan information and yet jealous

all at the same time. He’d wanted to share that info with his mate.

“As for the other things,” Ryan continued. “As long as we’re honest with each other, I

don’t think they will happen either.” Ryan paused for a second, obviously in thought. He
cocked his head to the side and peered at Sam. “I heard sex is required to claim your
mate, but we haven’t discussed it. Do you even want to claim me?”

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. Tension caused his fingers to tighten, and he had to

remind himself to ease his grip so he didn’t hurt his human mate. Slowly, biting his
bottom lip and swallowing hard, Sam nodded. “I want to claim you.”

Chapter Nine

Ryan leaned over the pool table and took his shot. The crack of ball against ball sounded
obnoxiously loud in the room, but he hardly paid attention to the action on the table.
Instead, he thought about Sam.

It’d been over two weeks since the shifter had admitted wanting to claim Ryan, except,

the man didn’t seem to be making any headway in that direction. Sure, Ryan hadn’t
expected it to happen right that instant—after all, Sam was injured. However, shouldn’t
Sam have pushed for it at some point between now and then?

Sam currently wore a walking boot—which he’d only need for about another week—and

he moved around freely. Any action Ryan instigated ended in mutual jerk-offs, rub offs,
blow jobs, or even sixty-nines, and even though Ryan loved their actions, he still found
his dick almost always at half-mast and ready for action. He’d learned from discussions
with a sympathetic Caleb and Ben that it was because his body constantly craved uniting
completely with Sam’s.

Both men had turned out to be really great friends and Ryan didn’t know what he would

have done without their kind support and patient guidance…which led him to his current
situation. He sure hoped his plan to seduce Sam worked, because he didn’t know what
else to try.

He glanced at Mutegi, who he played against, then around at the several pairs of men

who’d agreed to help him.

Yuma sat curled up in Hunter’s lap on a corner of one sofa. Land sat between Payson’s

legs on the other end of the piece of furniture. Caleb sprawled across Emmett’s lap in a
recliner while Eli sat on a matching chair with his mate at his feet. Each pair already
engaged in some form of foreplay—either making out, rubbing, or rocking.

He knew the pheromones must have been off the charts by the way sweat glistened on

Mutegi’s upper lip, even as the big man attempted to continue their seemingly innocent
game of pool. Ryan discovered he wasn’t completely immune either. Whether it was the
view of Eli’s little wolf kneeling at his feet, his hand under the loose leg of Eli’s cargo
shorts, and blatantly rubbing the slender shifter’s obvious erection, or maybe the way
Caleb sucked up a mark on his mate’s neck while Emmett fondled the slender ridge filling
out the groin of the smaller man’s sweats. Watching these scenes, Ryan felt like his prick
pulsed against the fly of his jeans. Of course, it could have been the butt plug inserted in
his rectum, pressing insistently against his prostate any time he bent over to take a shot,
or stood up after his turn, or just moved in general.

They all waited for the same thing…for Ben—who stood at the top of the stairs shifting

restlessly from foot to foot, the palm of one hand cupping the crotch of his shorts—to tell
them Sam was on his way. Then, the men planned to kick it up a notch. What the hell
that meant, Ryan had no idea considering the soft porn already playing out in front of
him.

Finally, finally, Ben came sprinting down the stairs…the signal that Sam was headed

toward them. As if the bull shifter needed any announcement other than his roar of what
the hell is going on that could be heard ringing through the house.

Ryan blanched. His mate sounded angry.
Yeah, over the last week I’ve accepted the man as my mate. Now, if I could just get

him past his hang-ups so he could fuck me senseless.

They’d done just about everything else, but Sam hadn’t even attempted to penetrate

Ryan, even with a finger. He was about to go out of his mind with need.

Ryan gripped his pool cue tightly as he watched Ben practically climb Mutegi. Looking

up, he spotted his lover limping down the stairs, his face flushed, his dark eyes sparking,
and—yup—his erection very nicely tenting his sweats.

He knew from experience that Sam was hung like the bull he was. Eleven inches of

thick, uncut cock, and he wanted it plowing his ass…desperately. When he and the other
shifters had come up with this little plan, Ryan had special-ordered the biggest damn butt
plug he could find, which he now wore.

Licking his lips, Ryan didn’t bother responding as Sam swiftly reached the first floor…

which was kind of impressive since the shifter still wore a boot. Ryan had confirmed with
Eli that Sam’s leg could handle the strain of…whatever the hell the bull shifter could do
given the stimulus they were giving him. The doc had confirmed that it’d be just fine.

Thank God!
Ryan met Sam’s gaze, taking in the infuriated lines of the glowering shifter’s jaw, and

smirked. Slowly, he backed away. Ryan focused on his lover, which was actually kinda
tough considering the moans and grunts now permeating the room, but since he wanted
his mate aroused and not incensed, he did it.

Crooking a finger, Ryan backpedaled toward the wet bar. Pleasure filled him when Sam

didn’t even glance at the other men in the room as he stalked across the floor toward
Ryan. When he reached the bar, Ryan slipped behind it, all the while holding Sam’s gaze.

Ryan backed around the corner and out of sight. He heard a low growl and knew his

lover followed. The bar connected to the back of the kitchen with a short, four foot
hallway. Although small, it still offered plenty of room, plus the privacy Ryan knew Sam
would want for a claiming, while—because it was open to the rest of the bar and the rec
room beyond—Ryan figured it’d still be permeated with the same heavy pheromones
needed to drive his lover out of his mind.

“What the hell is going on, Ryan?” Sam demanded gruffly, rounding the corner of the

bar and coming into sight.

Ryan leaned against the secluded counter, resting his hands on the bar behind him,

which effectively thrust out his groin. “Just waiting for you, Sam,” he stated. He didn’t
even need to try to get his voice to drop with lust. The sight of his shifter’s broad
shoulders and sexy features did it for him.

The rolling gait of the man’s lean hips drew his gaze like a moth to a flame. “Damn,

you’re fucking sexy,” he mumbled.

A low chuckle rumbled through Sam. “I’m glad you think so.” When Sam reached Ryan,

he wedged his body between his thighs and bracketed him with his arms. Staring intently,

he growled, “Now, you gonna tell me what the hell is going on? I’ve never seen the guys
like that.”

Ryan shrugged. He didn’t know that, since the guys had seemed more than happy to

put on a show, but now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen anyone’s skin—just
heard plenty of noise and scented plenty of arousal.

Huh.
Getting his mind back on track, Ryan reached up and rested his hands on Sam’s pecks.

He rubbed his thumbs over Sam’s nipples, pleased to feel the nubs harden beneath the
fabric of the t-shirt. He gave his lover what he hoped Sam would consider a sultry look. “I
heard from Payson you enjoyed listening. I figured it would, uh…” He licked his lips,
searching for the right words. Then, he blurted his desires. “I wanted an environment
you’d enjoy, so you could claim me.”

Sam’s jaw dropped, clearly shocked, but the look quickly morphed into a pained

expression.

Okay, not the best approach.
Ryan moved one hand up and cupped Sam’s jaw. He pressed their mouths together in a

soft kiss, then backed just a smidge, making their lips brush as he spoke. “Hey, hey,
relax,” he whispered. “Focus on me. Don’t think. Just feel,” he ordered, sliding his hand
down Sam’s jaw to caress the tendons of his neck. At the same time, he rocked his hips
forward and rubbed his erection against Sam’s groin, pleased to still find an answering
hardness behind the thin fabric of Sam’s sweats.

To Ryan’s pleasure, Sam moaned and closed the scant distance between their mouths.

He flicked his tongue against the seam of Ryan’s lips and he happily opened to the man,
letting the other man thrust in his tongue.

His lover’s heady masculine flavor exploded across Ryan’s tongue. His grip tightened on

Sam’s neck as Ryan tilted his head and gave his lover more access. The throbbing in his
jeans turned insistent, and he scrambled for the zipper. Sam batted his hands away and
made quick work of his fly, then shoved his pants down.

With a wiggle and a shake, which he’d deny to his dying day, Ryan got the jeans down

his legs and kicked off past his bare feet. He fed Sam a moan when he felt Sam’s thick
cock—which Sam must have freed from his sweats while Ryan had removed his own
jeans—press against his own.

Yanking his mouth away, Ryan hopped up on the counter behind him and spread his

legs. He hooked his heels around Sam’s waist and dug them into his shifter’s naked ass.
Looking down, Ryan licked his lips upon seeing his lover’s rearing prick, the foreskin
already pulling away to reveal a wet, ruddy head.

“God, I want that in my ass,” he mumbled, his body vibrating with lust.
His man stiffened between his thighs, and not in a good way.
Knowing he needed to distract the man, Ryan grabbed both their pricks and pressed

them together. He reveled in the hot flesh pressed against his own, and loved the sound
of Sam’s hiss. It was almost as good as the feel of his lover’s hands digging his fingers
into his hips.

Instead of stroking their cocks, Ryan rubbed his thumb over Sam’s partially exposed

slit. Then, he gently pulled his lover’s foreskin over his own prick’s glans, combining their
pre-cum, and rubbing their heads together.

Sam moaned, his body arching. Ryan reveled in the power he felt as his lover gave

himself over to the sensations he caused. “Ryan,” Sam grunted, his hips jerking.

“That’s it, baby,” Ryan crooned, trying to control his own body’s reactions. He felt his

balls roll in their sacks, threatening to pull tight. Needing a distraction, Ryan grabbed
Sam’s hand and pried it from his hip. “Wanna show you something,” he said upon seeing
his mate’s questioning look.

Even as Sam allowed Ryan to guide his hand between his legs to his crack, his lover’s

thumb brushed his balls. Ryan moaned as spikes of pleasure threaded through his
system. When Sam’s fingertips finally slid over the base of the plug, jiggling the piece of
silicone, making it rub over his prostate, Ryan thought he’d lose his mind.

Ryan gasped, his body shuddering. A bead of sweat dripped down his temple. Seeing

the shocked expression on Sam’s face quickly turn into one of feral delight as he gripped
the toy and jiggle it, moving it over Ryan’s prostate on purpose, just about sent Ryan
over the edge.

“S-Sam,” he hissed.
Sam pulled the toy out an inch, then released it, allowing it to sink back into Ryan’s

ass.

“Oh my God,” Ryan howled, a shiver working up his spine.
His dick oozed another drop of pre-cum, slicking their heads where they rubbed

together underneath Sam’s foreskin. His mate groaned, Sam’s eyelids lowering to half-
mast. His mouth opened and he panted several breaths as Sam locked gazes with him.

Sam’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Ryan,” he whimpered. “I-I need—”
Relief flooded Ryan that his mate seemed to be just as on edge as him. “Gonna give

you what you need,” he promised. Squeezing Sam’s wrist on the hand that played with
the butt plug, he ordered, “Pull it out.” He gritted his teeth as Sam obeyed. “Ah, fuck,” he
whispered.

Freezing, Sam met his gaze, questions in his eyes.
Ryan forced a smile. “Feels good,” he assured.
Sam didn’t really look like he believed him. Ryan massaged Sam’s foreskin where it

covered their dick’s heads, distracting his lover with the sensual touch for a few seconds.
Then, unable to wait any longer—because if he did, Ryan knew he’d spew—Ryan eased
their cocks apart and lowered his lover’s leaking, jerking prick to his lubed and stretched
hole.

Ryan watched his lover look down, his eyes widening in shock. Not wanting his shifter

to start over thinking, Ryan tilted his head. “Claim me,” he whispered.

That brought Sam’s focus to Ryan’s neck, then his eyes, his expression questioning.
Smiling, Ryan tilted his head further and murmured, “I need you, mate.”
Sam moaned, lowering his head and trailing his tongue up the tendon. “You sure?” Sam

asked, the words against Ryan’s wet flesh caused goose bumps to dance across his skin.

“Now,” Ryan insisted.
He jacked Sam’s prick where he still held it in his grip, the pre-cum smeared head

kissing his hole. As soon as he felt the first prick of Sam’s teeth at his neck, he tightened
his legs and rocked his hips. The move drove Sam’s cock deep into his rectum just as
Sam’s teeth sank into his shoulder.

The dual sensations of pain and pleasure wrapped around him to create the most

intense bliss Ryan had ever experienced. His body bowed. His arms and legs tightened
around his lover, holding Sam close as he roared his pleasure. Ryan’s balls exploded,
pumping his seed between them as his body spasmed and jerked.

Sam whined and hissed in his ear. His lover’s body shuddered. “Ryan,” Sam whispered.
The strangled sound barely reached Ryan over the roaring in his ears caused by the

blissful endorphins pinging through his system. He felt the man in his arms shiver just as
warmth jetted into his channel. Ryan hummed, a new kind of pleasure seeping through
him as the sensation of being connected to the man in his arms intensified.

Never had he felt so sated, so relaxed. Grinning, Ryan sighed. “Oh, Sam,” he

murmured, nuzzling Sam’s temple since his lover still hid his head in the crook of Ryan’s
neck.

Ryan rubbed his palms over Sam’s back. He licked and nipped his lover’s earlobe, liking

the way it made the man shiver. Massaging his shifter’s tense back muscles, Ryan felt the
shudder work through the man’s back. Concern flooded Ryan, thinking maybe he’d pushed
too hard too fast in his effort to ease both their horny almost painful states.

Finally, Sam slid his teeth from Ryan’s neck…which was an even odder sensation than a

guy pulling his prick from his ass, but for the pleasure it’d cause, he’d be more than happy
to feel it again and again.

“Mine,” Sam growled. He lifted his head and glared fiercely down at Ryan. “You’re

mine. I’m not letting you go.”

Ryan hadn’t realized there’d still been a question on that, but then it hit him like a ton

of bricks. His mate hadn’t pushed to claim him because they’d never really finalized any
decisions on the future.

Smiling, Ryan reached up and cupped Sam’s face. He rubbed his thumbs over the

shifter’s stern mouth and creased brows, easing the tension. “I am yours, Sam,” he
crooned, acknowledging and putting the man’s fears to rest. “Just as you are mine. I’m
not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

Sam’s lips curved into a broad smile, pleasure filling his brown eyes. “Yeah?”
Leaning up, Ryan brushed his lips over Sam’s. “Oh, yeah. You’ve given me everything I

never knew I wanted. You.”

Sighing, Sam’s arms tightened around him and he returned Ryan’s butterfly kiss. “What

do you say we head upstairs and continue showing each other how much we enjoy each
other?”

Ryan chuckled. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

About the Author

Charlie lives on a mini ranchette in Utah with her husband and furry, four-legged children.
She started writing fantasy when she was eight, and after stumbling onto her first erotic
romance at age nineteen, she realized her true calling. She now focuses on writing erotic
romance, normally of the paranormal variety, with heroes and heroines of all kinds. You
can often find her curled up with her laptop and a cup of tea or glass of wine, creating her
next adventure. Charlie enjoys exploring the mountains on horseback, 4-wheeler, or
motorcycle. Her favorite exercise is jumping lessons with her Arabian gelding Apache or
her Thoroughbred mare Repo. And she can’t get enough of sexy highlanders with their
kilts and swords. Right now, she and her muse are working with dedication on her Wolves
of Stone Ridge series and Kontra’s Menagerie series.

She can be reached at [e-mail]
Or visit her at www.charlie-richards.com