On the Road: They say what you’re missing is always found in the last place you look.

Sometimes, you find it when you’re not looking at all.

Kontra Belikov has been searching for his mate, Tim Laurent, for nearly sixty years, ever since he

missed his chance by giving the just-of-age teen time to experience life. While heading back to his
gang, he’s surprised, but grateful, to discover Tim in a small town. When Kontra pursues Tim, their
chemistry is explosive, but right after, Tim pushes him away. Tim doesn’t believe they’re mates and
feels guilty accepting affection since his lover of almost twenty years passed away just six months
before. Frustrated, Kontra gives Tim his space, all the while vowing to get through to his mate.
Space, once again, seems to be a mistake when the next morning, Kontra discovers Tim has been
kidnapped. Can Kontra rescue Tim, find out why his mate’s old flock is trying to keep them apart, and
convince Tim they are meant to be together?

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Silver-Tipped Justice

Copy right © 2013 Charlie Richards ISBN: 978-1-77111-419-6 Cover art by Angela Waters

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Silver-Tipped Justice Kontra’s Menagerie:
Book Eight
By
Charlie Richards

To all my readers who keep asking questions. Thank you for your interest,
encouragement, criticism, and pokes & prods.

Chapter One

“Fuck!” Kontra snarled, taking in the approaching road sign. “I hate detours.”

Payson snickered. “Awe, it ain’t that bad, boss,” the hyena shifter teased.

Snorting, Kontra turned his torso and glared at Payson over his shoulder, although they both knew
there was no heat in the look. After so many years of riding his hog, it was easy keeping his balance
as he twisted his body.
Payson just laughed harder.
Kontra couldn’t stop his snort of mirth. His friend always seemed to be able to cheer him. Of course,
the crazy shifter also managed to irritate the hell out of him on occasion, too, so it evened itself out,
mostly. But still, Kontra appreciated the man’s humor.
Seeing another orange sign, Kontra slowed his bike and prepared to follow the directions. As he
made the turn to the right, he grumbled, “How many small towns do you think we’ll have to creep
through this time?”
He loved seeing the countryside by taking the smaller highways and bi-ways that crisscrossed the
nation. Unfortunately, that also meant a detour could take him and his buddies out of their way. The
sights were often pretty though.
“A six pack says less than three,” Payson quipped.
Kontra grinned. “All right, you’re on. Four or more towns and you owe me,” he replied.
“Nice,” Payson chanted, clearly thinking he was going to win the bet.
Although Kontra really hated detours, especially when he had somewhere to be, like he did then, he
didn’t comment as first one town then two towns crept by. As he watched the third appear on the
horizon, Kontra wondered what his pack mates were doing.
He talked with Adam, a white tiger shifter, and Sam, a large Texas longhorn bull shifter, every few
days. He’d learned that Yuma had found a human mate, and he was eager to meet the guy. Yuma
deserved some happiness. Kontra knew more about the little penguin shifter’s history than the small
shifter thought.
It wasn’t common knowledge that Yuma had worked as a prostitute for several years before Adam
found him and removed him from the streets. Adam and Yuma had joined his gang when Kontra had
discovered Adam shoplifting bandages and healing supplies after Yuma had been gay bashed. It had
taken the poor shifter almost two weeks to recover due to broken bones and internal bruising.
Kontra’s smile turned feral as he remembered the eye-for-an-eye revenge he’d paid on the humans
responsible. Yeah, sometimes being a bear shifter rocked. When they stopped at the one-andonly stop
sign in the little town, Kontra turned and grinned at Payson.
“At the next town, we’ll stop for supper,” Kontra told him.
Payson grinned back. “You just want your beer.”
Shrugging, then grimacing, Kontra reached up and rubbed his shoulder. Not long ago, guards had shot
him in the shoulder while he was protecting a friend. At least the guy had lived, which was more than
Kontra could say for the men shooting at them.
They’d thought the facility had housed shifters, who were being experimented on, but by the time they
got there, the facility had been emptied and all that were waiting for them were several guards.
Kontra hated traps, but not as much as one of the other guys. Jared, a human who was best friends
with the man who’d been shot, had blown up the building in retaliation.
At first, Kontra had worried it would draw attention to them, but when the news ran it as an electrical
fire, he’d been relieved. He didn’t even want to know how the human had made the explosion look

like faulty wiring had caused the blaze. Kontra didn’t plan to admit that to anyone.
He and Payson drove on and thirty minutes later, the next town appeared ahead of them. Kontra
grinned at Payson, where his pack mate rode next to him. “Time for that beer,” he said.
Payson snickered. “Sure, boss. We stayin’ the night then?”
“If they have a decent motel,” Kontra replied, his gaze sweeping the horizon. Just as he finished
saying the words, they reached the first house, then rounded a bend in the road. “Well, well,” Kontra
murmured, his brows ratcheting up a notch. “This place is bigger than I thought.”
A small town opened up before them in the tiny valley between a couple of good sized hills. The
speed limit dropped as they approached the outskirts of town and Kontra took in the rustic, small-
town feel. They passed antique shops, eateries, a bookshop, several motel options, cafés, and bars.
Kontra slowed and turned his Harley into the parking lot of a motel that looked to be in good repair.
After lowering the kickstand, he pulled off his helmet, rested it on the gas tank between his thighs, and
ran his fingers through his shaggy silver-tipped, dark hair. He re-tied the shoulderlength hair with the
elastic band and swung his leg off his hog.
He headed through the door marked office, Payson on his heels. Kontra paid for one, double queen
room, and returned outside.
“We sharin’ a room, boss?” Payson said from where he strode next to Kontra on his right.
Kontra smirked as he took in his friend’s amused expression. He shook his head. “You really think
you’re going to get lucky in a small town like this, Payson?” he teased.
Payson chuckled. “Vail would,” he pointed out.
Laughing, Kontra thought of the mate-shy wolf shifter in his pack. “Yeah, he’d probably manage it,
somehow.”
Vail had traveled with Kontra’s gang for nearly fifteen years. In that time, he’d established himself as
the gang’s playboy. Wherever they went, the wolf shifter somehow managed to pick up a cute twink to
have a bit of fun with for the night, but only one night. The shifter refused any commitment outside his
gang friends. Kontra had no idea why. Most shifters wanted to find their mate. Vail claimed the exact
opposite, saying he hoped never to find that fated one-and-only.
Kontra opened the door and tossed his saddlebags on the bed nearest the door. He turned and grinned
at Payson. “Tell you what. If you find someone to…entertain tonight, I’ll get a second room.”
Payson snorted and rolled his eyes. “Right. Let’s go get something to clear this road dust from our
throats.”
“Sounds like a great plan,” Kontra replied. He stepped out of the motel room and swept his gaze over
the nearby storefronts. Spotting a pub-style eatery advertising the best buffalo wings in the state,
Kontra pointed toward it. “That work?”
Payson shrugged. “Sure, boss.”
Kontra led the way down the street to the corner, then crossed and strode into the bar. His sight
adjusted nearly instantly to the dimmer light, and he headed toward a back corner booth. Payson made
a stop at the bar, most likely to order a couple of beers.
Settling on the seat, Kontra stretched out his legs and relaxed, sighing deeply. The short walk and real
seat felt nice after riding his hog for ten hours, with only the occasional stops for fuel to break the
monotony. The corner of his lip curved up slightly as he watched Payson head his way with a beer in
each hand.
Payson set one in front of him, then slid into the booth, moving halfway around the U-shaped seat so
his own back was toward the wall and he could look out. Kontra picked up his glass and clinked it
against Payson’s.

He took a healthy swig, then hummed his pleasure as the cold, dark brew slid down his throat. “Very
nice,” he murmured appreciatively.
His buddy winked and took a large gulp of his own beverage. They sat in companionable silence as
they perused a tall, narrow card listing offered eats on one side and drinks on the other. It was typical
bar fare, fried onion rings, hot wings, potato skins, and greasy burgers. Kontra licked his lips.
Perfect!
“Hey, gents,” a waiter greeted him. “What can I get for you?”
Kontra glanced at the man, taking in his broad shoulders hidden under a black t-shirt, his engaging
smile, and the friendly light in his brown eyes. He might have been surprised the man didn’t appear
wary of him, but the guy stood around six three and looked like he could handle himself. Their waiter,
and most likely the owner of the joint, if Kontra didn’t miss his guess, probably didn’t run into much
he couldn’t handle on his own.
Returning the guy’s friendly smile with a slight curve of his lips, Kontra said, “I’d like a double
cheeseburger with bacon, heavy on the pickles, light on the mustard.” He tapped his menu and added,
“How about some potato skins, too.”
The human grinned. “You won’t be disappointed.” He turned and lifted a brow at Payson in silent
question.
“I’ll take the same on the burger, but add mushrooms and jalapeños to mine,” Payson replied.
Their waiter nodded. “You got it.” He glanced between their half-finished beers. “Gonna need refills
with the meal?”
“Maybe even before that,” Kontra replied, finally giving the human a true smile. He liked an attentive
waiter.
The man laughed and nodded. “I’m Shep. Just holler at me when you want it and you’ll have it in a
jiff.”
“Thanks, Shep. We’ll do that.” Kontra lifted his mug and tipped his head in thanks before taking
another swallow.
Their skins came quickly, along with another round of beers. Dipping the greasy, tasty morsel in sour
cream, Kontra brought it to his mouth and took in half. He moaned in delight. Delicious! Seconds
later, he swallowed the other half.
“Oh, that’s good, boss,” Payson muttered around a pleased groan.
Kontra chuckled. “Maybe you should take a plate or two of those back to the room this evening,” he
teased.
Payson snickered. “Think they’d let me?”
He tilted his head toward the front where a white plastic bag sat, the distinctive shape of to-go boxes
filling it out. “They seem to offer take-out.”
“Nice,” Payson crooned, following Kontra’s gaze.
Shep arrived at their table and placed plates holding massive burgers and heaps of waffle fries.
“Thanks,” Kontra said while Payson just grinned and dug in.
Kontra was halfway through his meal when a sweet, tangy smell tickled his senses. Looking up, he
surveyed the room, trying to determine the source of the scent. His eyes narrowed as he watched a
lithe man stride toward the bar, the sway of his slender hips catching Kontra’s eye.
The way Shep grinned at the stranger had Kontra fighting back a growl.
“Hey, Tim,” Shep greeted the man. “How’s your day going?”
Tim? Kontra inhaled again, and this time, the way his dick reacted, pressing painfully against his fly,
made sense. “Holy shit.” After all this time, Kontra had found him.

“Oh, he’s cute, boss,” Payson said, following his attention. “You gonna try to go for him?”
Kontra turned and looked at Payson. From the way his pack mate cocked his head and frowned, he
knew stunned shock must have been clearly etched on his features.
“You okay, boss?” Payson asked, his brow creasing in concern.
He had to swallow hard before he could answer. Finally, he managed to croak, “That’s my mate.”

Chapter Two

Tim greeted Shep, returning his smile. “I’m doing all right,” Tim told him. “Ready to get home

and relax.” And wasn’t that the truth? Getting everything ready for his buyer to take over the store was
exhausting. At least, it’d be over soon. Just four more days, then he’d be free to relocate.

“You want a drink while you wait for your food?” Shep asked. “It’ll be ready in just a few

minutes.”

Tim shook his head. “No, thanks, man. You give me a beer now and I’ll probably fall asleep at

your bar.”

Shep leaned close as he peered at Tim. “You do look a little tired. You sleeping okay?”

No.“Yeah, well enough. Just busy, ya know?” In truth, he hadn’t slept an entire night in full since he’d
lost his lover of seventeen years, six months ago. Tim had known he’d outlive his human lover, what
with his shifter DNA extending his life centuries beyond a normal man’s, but he really thought he’d
have at least another decade or two before having to face losing the man he loved.
He was so glad the bookstore he’d run with Gil had sold. Tim didn’t think he’d be able to stand the
memories much longer. Between the store and home, everything in his life reminded him of his
deceased partner.
A tingle niggled at the base of his neck, making Tim grip the side of the bar tightly. He sucked in a
breath, fear filling him. Tim had always had an uncanny ability to know when something was going to
happen in his life, almost like premonitions. Although many would consider it a blessing, Tim
considered it a pain in the ass. Just because he knew a change was coming, didn’t mean he knew
when or from what quarter.
Feeling it the first time at age thirteen, Tim hadn’t understood the odd tingle at the base of his neck or
the clenching in his gut. The next day, Tim had spotted a new boy at school and sprouted his first
boner. He’d figured out pretty damn quickly that he was gay. That same tingle returned intermittently
over the years, letting him know changes were coming. The last time had been the day before Gil
approached him with news from the doctor. News that confirmed Gil had cancer in his brain, and it
was inoperable. Gil had fought the disease for two years.
Shoving the painful memories aside, Tim leaned his back against the bar and surreptitiously glanced
around Shep’s pub. The place was clean, the floor swept, tables and bar wiped, as always. His friend
prided himself on running a tight ship. He wondered if the fact that he was moving was what caused
his premonition this time, but figured that was too much to hope for. Sometimes suspense sucked.
Two strangers sat in a booth at the back. Tim tried not to stare, but it was hard not to. The bigger man
was really big, broad shoulders, big hands clutched a beer-filled glass and dark hair with odd white
—no, silver—flecks permeated throughout. The biker leathers, goatee, and tattoos peeking out the top
of his sweatshirt drew Tim’s curiosity. The man’s expression was hard to make out, what with the
way the light cast shadows over the guy’s face and how he was turned toward his friend, speaking in
low tones.
He must have stared too long, for suddenly, Tim found the guy’s gaze fixed right on him. Tim bit back
a gasp when he saw the man’s eyes narrow. Tim flushed as he watched the ruggedly handsome
biker’s dark-eyed gaze sweep down his body and back up again.
Tim couldn’t guess at the man’s thoughts, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. A fucked-up shifter he might
be, but that didn’t mean punches from some homophobic biker wouldn’t hurt. And considering the
guy’s size, they’d hurt a lot!
“Here we are,” Shep said, drawing Tim’s attention.

Grateful for the reprieve from the biker’s penetrating gaze, Tim took the better part of valor and
retreated…to the front of the bar where he could pay for his meal. He passed Shep his debit card and
waited while he scanned it, trying not to shift his weight from foot to foot in agitation.
Every time Tim glanced toward the back, the stranger’s focus seemed to be on him. He couldn’t stop
his eyes from widening or the heat from flooding his face and groin when the man stood. Holy shit,
that guy has to be at least six and a half feet tall! A cold shiver worked down his spine when the
stranger started toward him.
Oh, no! Had the guy realized why Tim had been ogling him? Fear had him snatching his card and
receipt from Shep with more force than intended, almost making the plastic go flying out of both their
hands.
“Whoa, Tim,” Shep urged. “You okay, man? You’re looking a little pale all of a sudden.”
“I’m good,” Tim squeaked out, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. He tried for a smile, but knew
he’d failed miserably by the concern evident in Shep’s eyes. “I’m just tired. Ready to eat and crash.”
“When’s the new owner supposed to get to town?” Shep asked, cocking his head.
Normally, Tim wouldn’t hesitate to stop and shoot the shit with the big man. Shep was a great guy,
after all, not even caring that he and Gil were an openly gay couple. But right then, there was an even
bigger man heading toward him and Tim desperately wanted to avoid any confrontation.
Tim grabbed his to-go bag and turned toward the door. “Sorry, Shep. I really gotta run. I’ll catch up
with you tomorrow, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, Tim pulled the door open and stepped
outside, blinking in the sudden sunlight.
A glance over his shoulder revealed a frowning Shep and an advancing biker. Surely, he wouldn’t
follow him outside, would he? Closing the door, Tim didn’t wait to find out. He strode swiftly
toward the corner. Once he reached the alleyway, Tim ducked into it and tore off at a sprint.
He didn’t know what unsettled him so much about the biker. Whether it was the premonition feeling
right before spotting the guy, or the way he reacted to the man’s rough good looks and sexy body, but
Tim just knew he needed to get away from him. If the guy got too close, he might notice Tim’s boner,
then all hell would break loose. And it would be a little hard to explain how Tim’s right hook, backed
by his partial-shifter strength, could flatten a human that size.
Tim maneuvered through two more alleys before slowing to a walk. He looked around, but finding
himself alone, decided it was safe to go home. Laughing quietly, Tim mentally chided himself for
being so foolish. The guy probably hadn’t even left the bar. In fact, he probably hadn’t even been
heading toward Tim at all.
Rolling his eyes at his paranoid ridiculousness, Tim pulled his keys from his pocket as he strode
swiftly up the walk to the two-bedroom, two-bath bungalow he’d shared with Gil for so many years.
It also had a sale pending, thank the Gods!
He’d just unlocked the door and had stepped over the threshold when a deep voice speaking his name
from directly behind him caused two reactions. First, Tim nearly jumped out of his skin, banging his
Second, his insistently at his fly.
“Tim, please don’t run.”
Swallowing back his moan at the deep sexy voice, Tim slowly turned. He forced his head up, so he
could meet the man’s dark brown-eyed gaze. He licked his lips, his nerves skittering along their
endings. “What do you want?” He barely managed to get the whispered words past his lips when the
man took a step forward.
Tim instinctively backed up to avoid being crowded by the guy’s big body. The close shoulder
against dick jerked in his the doorframe. slacks, pressing proximity also gave him a lungful of the

man’s earthy, musky scent. “Oh, shit. You’re a shifter,” he blurted, clutching his to-go bag to his chest
like a shield.
The big guy nodded once, glanced over his shoulder and waved at someone out of Tim’s line of sight,
then stepped fully into his small home and shut the door.
It dawned on Tim that, as a shifter—one that certainly had a better sense of smell than Tim— this guy
probably scented Tim’s arousal. His shocked mind struggled with how to play off the uncomfortable
boner in his slacks, should the guy ask.
What came out was, “There isn’t a flock here. If you’re scouting for new territory, this land is free.
I’ll be leaving in a week, so it’s all yours.”
“What? No,” the man practically growled.
Tim’s brows shot up and his jaw sagged open. Surely this guy didn’t think he could force Tim to stick
around. Shifter or not, awesome smelling and handsome or not, Tim wasn’t staying in this town. He’d
been here long enough for people to start noticing his lack of aging and had been pushing it because
Gil wasn’t ready to leave yet. Then his partner had gotten sick, and it had been a long, grueling two
years battling cancer.
Every instinct in Tim screamed for him to get the hell out of dodge.
He snapped his mouth closed and scowled at the man. “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?
You have no say over me.”
To his ever-loving shock, a feral smile curved the man’s handsome goateed face. The guy stalked
forward. Tim’s pride warred with his good sense, the latter quickly winning, and he lifted his hands
in placation as he retreated.
“My name is Kontra Belikov. I’m a grizzly bear shifter,” the biker stated, his gravelly voice low,
sensual, and gruff.
Tim’s cock hardened further at the sound. His back thudded against a wall, stopping his progress.
Kontra first took the to-go bag from his hands and set it aside, then he grabbed Tim’s palms in a
surprisingly gentle grip and lifted them over his head, pinning them on either side. “And you, Timothy
Laurent, are my mate.”
Tim gasped as Kontra pressed his nose against the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. A low
rumble vibrated through Kontra’s chest, making Tim’s nipples bead into sharp, tingly points where
they pressed against the man.
Lifting his head to capture Tim’s gaze, Kontra’s dark brown eyes bore into his own. “Do you know
how long I’ve been searching for you, Tim?”
Somehow, Tim managed to shake his head once. His mouth formed the word no, though no sound
came out.
Firm lips wreathed in surprisingly soft hair brushed across Tim’s jaw once, twice, then moved to his
ear. Kontra’s warm breath had pinpricks of pleasure dancing across his nerve endings, making it
incredibly difficult for Tim to focus on the shifter’s next words.
“It will be sixty years, to the day, in three weeks, Tim,” Kontra whispered. He sucked Tim’s earlobe
into his mouth and tugged gently.
Tim whimpered, the pulls seeming to transfer straight to his painfully hard cock, making it pulse and
leak in his slacks. Suddenly, Kontra’s big hands palmed his ass-cheeks and lifted. Tim found his
hands free and he quickly grabbed the big man’s shoulders, clutching at the shifter’s black leather
jacket.
Kontra slid him up the wall and pressed closer, aligning their groins. Tim reacted instantly by
wrapping his legs around Kontra’s hips. A large ridge of flesh pressed against his trapped erection

through several layers of fabric. Sparks of fire licked along his hard cock, and Tim shouted hoarsely
as he rocked his hips to get more of the delicious sensations.
The rush of blood flowing through his veins reminded Tim that he still lived, that he could still feel
desire and pleasure. Kontra groaned, his grip tightening on Tim’s ass. The sexy shifter used his hold
to rock their groins together.
Through a haze of bliss—caused by Kontra’s sharp teeth nipping and scraping up and down the
tendons of his neck, the feel of his hard dick rocking against his own, and the sexy growls and grunts
vibrating through the shifter’s body—Tim felt his testicles draw up tight to his body. His dick swelled
even more, and Tim knew he was about to come.
“Oh!” he murmured, his eyes widening in realization.
Kontra lifted his head and grunted. “Yeah, do it, Tim. Come for me,” he snarled gutturally.
Letting out a low groan, Tim did just that. His head bumped against the wall and his eyes lost focus as
his balls turned inside out and filled his slacks with warm, sticky seed.
While endorphins pinged pleasantly through his body, Tim felt the fingers gripping his ass twitch.
Kontra hissed between clenched teeth, a strained look crossing his face. Tucking his forehead against
Tim’s neck, the big shifter’s body jerked several times.
The hold on Tim’s butt eased, but Kontra didn’t release him. Instead, the shifter lifted his head and
smiled at him, warmth filling his dark eyes. “I haven’t done that since I was a cub,” he whispered,
snorting.
His head still resting against the wall, Tim peered up at him through his lashes. “Do what?”
“Come in my jeans,” Kontra admitted, the smile still firmly in place. “You just smell so fucking
fantastic, my mate. I can’t wait to strip these clothes from your body and find out if you taste just as
good.”
The blood drained from Tim’s face, and this time, not in a good way. His heart raced for an entirely
different reason and he pushed against the solid wall that made up Kontra’s chest. “Put me down,” he
snapped harshly, panic giving his voice a hard edge.
Kontra’s dark brows creased, worry filling his expression, but at least he obeyed. “Hey, easy, Tim.
What is it? What’s wrong?”
As soon as Kontra released him, Tim slipped sideways into the living room. He put the couch
between them and struggled to control the trembling that wanted to consume him. Pictures of himself
and Gil surrounded him and tears burned his eyes.
“You—you need to leave,” he murmured, pointing an unsteady hand toward the door. Guilt swamped
him, making it hard to speak. How could he lose himself in another man that way, even if it was a
sexy shifter who seemed bent on the idea that Tim was his mate?
At his order, Kontra frowned. “Wait a minute. You,” he paused, glancing around the room at the
pictures of Tim and his deceased lover. “You’re in a relationship?”
A shocking amount of disbelief and pain filled the whispered words, like they’d been pulled from
Kontra against his will. His dark complexion actually paled, making the edges of his tattoos stand out
in stark relief against his skin.
Something in Tim made him shake his head. Surely a man that big should never look that hurt and
uncertain. “No.”
Kontra looked even more confused, but at least he was no longer pale enough to appear ready to pass
out with dread. He waved toward the pictures. “I don’t understand.”
“I was in a relationship,” Tim told him. “Gil passed away from cancer just over six months ago. I’m
—I’m still in mourning.”

At that, Kontra straightened his shoulders and seemed to regain some confidence. “I see. So, you just
need a few days to—to…”
He stalled, struggling for words. Kontra ran a hand through his long, dark hair. He shook his head.
“Please, please leave. I’m sorry about what happened between us, but I’m not your mate. I can’t be,”
Tim blurted.
Kontra’s head jerked back up. “You are my mate, Tim. You’re a shifter. You know we don’t choose
them. Fate does,” Kontra continued.
“No,” Tim said, wrapping his arms around his torso. “I’m not a shifter. I might have been raised with
them, but I’m not one of you.” He fixed his gaze on Kontra, his body tense, ready to run in case his
words angered the huge grizzly.
Kontra cocked his head. “I don’t understand. Your father…”
Tim glared. “I don’t know how you know this about me, and I can’t tell you why I can’t shift. I just
can’t. I—” He shook his head hard. “Please, just leave.”
Kontra stared at him for the longest time. Tim fought back a shiver at the man’s intense scrutiny. His
brows drew into a deep frown. One moment, Tim was staring at him from across the couch. A second
later, Kontra was right in front of him.
The shifter grabbed the back of his head and laid one on him. His tongue slipped between Tim’s lips,
demanding a response. Tim whimpered into the kiss, trembling as renewed lust slammed into him.
Kontra drew the kiss to an end, and stepped back. “You are my mate, Tim. There is no mistake in
that. I’ll give you some time,” he added, backing away, his boots scuffing on the hardwood floors.
“I’ll be back, Tim.”
Seconds later, the front door slammed and Tim knew he was alone, again. He wrapped his arms
around his waist and looked around the room. He walked closer to the mantle and rested his hand on
it. Staring into Gil’s blue eyes, he cocked his head. Lifting a hand, he touched Gil’s glasscovered
face. “Oh, Gil, I miss you.” The cooling cum in his pants made itself known, tugging his groin hairs.
He hissed and flushed with embarrassment, though no one was there but him. “What the hell do I do,
Gil?”

Chapter Three

Kontra took the six steps leading down from Tim’s home two at a time. Frustration, anger, and

fear coursed through him as he strode away from his mate’s home with ground-eating strides. He
couldn’t, wouldn’t force the man to accept him. He needed time to think and plan his approach.
Somehow, he’d woo his mate.

He returned to the bar where he’d first seen the man and sat down at the table he’d vacated to

chase his fleeing mate. The food and beer he’d left had been cleared away, but Kontra didn’t care.
He’d expected as much.

“Hey, back again?” Shep greeted with a grin. Kontra spared the guy a nod.

“Same brew as before?” he asked, eying Kontra
with interest.

Kontra could see the questions in the guy’s eyes, but to his credit, he didn’t voice them. “And two

shots of patron,” he said.
Shep’s brows shot up, but all he said was, “You got it.”

While he waited, Kontra tried to figure out what the hell Tim meant about him not being a shifter.

He’d first seen the man while visiting an owl shifter flock in France. His bear clan had wanted to
make a deal for trading some of their lagers for the flock’s wine. He’d scented the much younger male
and had known instantly his mate was near. It had taken some discreet questioning to learn that Tim
was the son of a shifter who worked in the casking room.

The appearance of a shot glass in his line of sight pulled Kontra out of his thoughts. He looked up

and found Shep holding a second shot glass and two mugs of beer. Kontra grabbed the shot and
downed it, relishing the burn of the liquid.

To his surprise, when he put the glass down, he found Shep sitting across from him, one of the two

beers cradled between his palms. Kontra grabbed the second shot and downed it.

Kontra set the glass down, picked up his beer, and chased the burn with a swallow of the

soothing, bitter brew. Leaning back, Kontra frowned at the human. “What?”

Shep didn’t seem the least bit put off by his growly tone. He leaned forward, putting his elbows

on the table, and murmured, “I saw you follow Tim out.”
“Yeah,” Kontra stated, seeing no need to lie. He swigged more beer and waited.

“Just because Tim’s gay, doesn’t mean he’s any less a man. If I find out problems, you’ll have not

with,” Shep warned.

Kontra’s brows lifted at the human’s words. It was nice to hear his mate was so highly regarded

by his peers. It spoke well of him. He shook his head. “I won’t hurt him,” he stated.

Shep’s eyes narrowed. “Then why did you follow him out?”

Hearing the disbelief in the bartender’s tone, Kontra’s jaw clenched. He sucked in a slow breath,
trying to decide what to tell the man. He didn’t want problems with anyone in town. That wouldn’t
help him win points with Tim. Why the hell didn’t the guy feel the mate-pull?
“Well?” Shep urged, pulling Kontra’s attention back to him.
“I’m attracted to him,” Kontra told him. “I wanted an opportunity to get to know him better.”
That had Shep straightening and his brows shooting up to his hairline. His gaze swept the room as he
licked his lips. After nearly thirty seconds, Shep shook his head and looked down at his beer. “He
lost his partner not long ago.” He waved a hand at the empty shot glasses and nearly finished beer.
“I’m assuming he shot ya down.”
you’re causing him just me to contend Kontra nodded. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Sorry, man,” Shep said, rising. “I’ll get you another couple shots.”
Nodding again, Kontra downed the last of his beer.
He shifted in his seat and grimaced. He still hadn’t cleaned up after coming in his jeans and it was
becoming itchy. He rose and headed for the men’s room. Kontra cleaned himself up as best he could,
but was more interested in getting back to the table and a fresh beer.

Three hours later, Kontra still sat at the table. He was staring vacantly into his beer when Payson

sat down across from him. “Hey, boss,” Payson greeted, his gaze sweeping over him. “Whatcha doin’
here? Where’s Tim?”

Kontra blinked, trying to focus his swimming vision on his pack mate. “He doesn’t want me,” he

slurred. He paused and swallowed hard.

Payson leaned toward him and stared into his face. “Damn, boss. How much have you had?”

That was a good question. Kontra wasn’t real sure. It took a hell of a lot more alcohol to get a shifter
drunk than a human, but he sure managed to tie one on tonight. “Shit,” he muttered. “I gotta sleep this
off.”
He rubbed his palms over his face and groaned. “What the fuck was I thinking?”
“Come on, boss. You can tell me all about it in the morning,” Payson said. He wrapped his arm
around Kontra’s waist and urged him to his feet.
Kontra struggled up, leaning on Payson. “I’m too fucking old for this,” he mumbled. “What the hell
was I thinking?” Wait, didn’t I ask that already? Everything was really fuzzy.
Payson snickered. “Don’t know, boss. We’ll decide in the morning, huh?”
Grunting, Kontra nodded. They made it to the bar, and Kontra leaned against it. He reached back to
dig out his wallet, but Payson waved him away. “Relax, boss. I got this.”
“Boss?” Shep repeated the word, clearly curious, as he took Payson’s card.
Payson gave him a wide, toothy grin. “Yep.” He didn’t expand on that.
This time, a one-word answer didn’t placate Shep. “If you’re after our boy, you two gotta do better
than that,” he said, swinging a glare between them.
Payson cocked his head and looked at Kontra, lifting a brow in interest. All Kontra wanted was to
find a bed and pass out. He grunted and nodded once. He couldn’t wait to hear what Payson came up
with. His friend might be eccentric, but he had a quick mind and one hell of an imagination.
“Kontra is a mineralogical surveyor and I’m his assistant. We’re moving through the towns that are
built over and around Minorsilt Spring, an underground river.” Payson’s toothy smile widened.
“We’re making certain that possibly toxic mine tailings dumped near the head of the spring haven’t
contaminated the water.”
The more Payson spoke, the more confused, then pale, Shep became. Once he finished speaking,
Payson snatched his card and receipt, then scribbled an unreadable signature. He slid the top receipt
back and shoved the rest into his vest pocket.
Wrapping his arm around Kontra’s waist again, Payson urged, “Come on, boss. Time to sleep this
off.”
Kontra couldn’t hear his pack mate’s worry, but he could smell it, what with the way he was pressed
up against the man. They stumbled forward, which seemed to draw Shep out of his stupor.
“Hey, wait! What does…”
“Gotta get bossman to bed, Shep. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow,” Payson said, tossing the
platitude over his shoulder.
Then they were through the door and out into the night. Kontra sucked in deep lungfuls of fresh air,
trying to stabilize his equilibrium. It didn’t work as good as he’d hoped, but at least he was able to

keep from swaying each step as Payson assisted him across the street to their hotel room.
“Gods above,” he grumbled. “I don’t remember having that many beers.”
“I think it was the dozen empty shot glasses on the table that did it, boss,” Payson replied, snickering.
Kontra bared his teeth and growled at the smaller man, but Payson just grinned and laughed some
more. Grimacing, Kontra knocked his head against his pack mate’s. “Thanks for getting me out of
there. After I sleep this off, I’ll figure out what to do about Tim.”
They reached the motel door and Payson got them inside. Payson shuffled him to the bathroom and
stated, “No passing out until you brush your teeth and take a piss. If you need help getting to the bed,
holler.”
He muttered a few choice words at Payson’s snickered comments and lurched into the room. Kontra
grabbed the side of the sink and splashed some water on his face. Looking in the mirror, he grimaced
upon seeing how bloodshot his eyes were. At least he knew, because he was a shifter, he’d be right as
rain in the morning without a hint of hangover. Gods be praised for his increased metabolism.
Kontra quickly brushed his teeth, took a piss, and even managed to strip and take a shower. No way
he wanted to go to sleep smelling like a bar, even one so nicely maintained. He had to give Shep
credit, Kontra thought, scrubbing his shoulder-length dark hair.
After a quick wash, where he resisted the urge to jack off to the memory of holding Tim, the sounds he
made, and the flush covering his cheeks as he came. Growling in frustration, he shut off the water and
roughly toweled himself dry.
“Damn it,” he snarled. “I should be with my mate, not here.”
“Awe, thanks, boss,” Payson teased, eying him from where he reclined on the second bed.
Kontra rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Yep,” Payson replied, watching him unashamedly as he crawled into his own bed.
He shook his head as he sat down and pulled the covers over him. All his pack had seen each other
nude, and Kontra had never done anything with any of them, deciding early on that the best way to
maintain discipline was to make sure none of his orders or actions could be blamed on favoritism.
That certainly didn’t stop Payson from giving everyone, Kontra included, lewd looks. The hyena
shifter was a voyeur in the worst way.
After Kontra clicked out the lights, Payson said, “I called the guys.”
Kontra turned to gaze at him, his better-thanaverage vision making it easy to see his fellow shifter’s
form in the dark. “And?”
Payson’s eyes glittered in the darkness, but he was looking at the ceiling, not at Kontra. “Sam and
Adam should be here in the morning. The rest are closing up the cabin and heading out at first light.
They should be here sometime late afternoon or early evening.”
Kontra tried to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing, then figured he didn’t care. Shifters did
better in groups, needing the camaraderie and sense of belonging. And right now, Kontra needed his
pack, and Payson knew it.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Sure, boss. You’re always helping us, it’s time we returned the favor,” he said, this time flashing a
grin his way before returning his focus to the ceiling. “You, uh, you mind if I ask a question?”
Even through the slight fog still clouding his mind, Kontra could hear the hesitancy in Payson’s tone.
He frowned. Kontra couldn’t remember ever hearing that in the hyena’s voice before. “You can ask
anything, Payson, but I do reserve the right not to answer,” he replied, trying to encourage while
instilling that he had alpha’s prerogative.
It took so long for Payson to start talking, Kontra had started to doze.

“You’ve always been so sure about finding a mate. How’d you know Tim was out there?”
Kontra let out a slow breath. He really should have told this story to his pack mates already. It would
have given them hope that mates were out there for them, even though it opened up a wound in
Kontra’s chest every time he thought of his failings.
“I’d met him before,” Kontra admitted. “It was before Tim was of age, so he didn’t recognize me as
his mate, but I still scented him.”
“How old were ya’ll?”
“I was thirty-seven and still coming to grips with the fact that I preferred men to women,” Kontra
admitted. “Once I scented Tim, though, all the fight went out of me. All I wanted was him. Then I
discovered he was only fifteen and still hadn’t shifted yet.”
Although the feeling of frustration had ebbed over time, he still grimaced.
“That sucks, boss. What did you do?” Payson prodded.
“Nothing,” Kontra admitted. “Not a damn thing. After I found out who it was, I went home.” Tears
formed at the corners of his eyes. “I knew I couldn’t have him until he’d come of age, so I waited. The
year Tim turned eighteen, I came out to my folks.” He snorted. “At least the Fates were kind to me in
that regard. Once I explained about Tim, removing any doubt to the question of whether or not I was
sure, they accepted it.”
“Then how come you didn’t go after him?”
“I wanted to, so bad,” Kontra muttered. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I was celibate, but sex with
anyone else was just a way to get my rocks off and I made sure my partners were on the same page.”
He rolled his head on his pillow and popped his neck. “Then my father pointed out that at eighteen,
there was no way Tim would be ready to settle down. He recommended we contact the flock, ask
after him, keep an eye on him discreetly, then after he’d had a few years to mature a bit, I could begin
the courting process.” Kontra huffed out a breath. “Two years later, we got a report that Tim’s father
hadn’t taken Tim’s coming out well and Tim had run away to the United States. The flock beta
couldn’t tell us where he’d gone.”
There was silence from Payson for a few seconds, then the bed creaked as he turned on his side and
faced him. “And that’s why you came over here, and have been searching ever since.”
“Yes,” Kontra whispered. He threw his arm over his forehead and covered his eyes as he
remembered the feeling of helplessness he fought every time his faith that he’d find his mate flagged.
“And now I’ve found him and he doesn’t want to be claimed.” He scowled, turned and looked at
Payson. “Tim said he’s not a shifter. Why would he say that? I know who his father is, and bigoted
asshole he may be, but he’s an owl shifter, so why wouldn’t his son be?”
“I don’t know, boss,” Payson responded softly. “If his mother was a human, could he be human, too?”
Kontra immediately shook his head. “Not a chance. I’ve never heard of human genes trumping shifter
genes so they can’t shift.”
“Well, maybe there’s some other explanation,” Payson mused. “Emmett wasn’t able to shift to human
form ‘cause of drugs,” he said, mentioning one of their pack mates that they’d rescued from a zoo.
Growling, Kontra snarled, “You think my mate takes drugs?” He would have scented that. “You’re
wrong.”
“Whoa, boss. I’m just saying that there are other options. That’s all.”
The man’s placating tone eased Kontra’s bear, and he eased back on the bed. “Right,” he muttered.
“Sorry I snapped.”
“No worries. Go to sleep, boss. You could use the rest.”
Sighing deeply, Kontra let his eyelids slide shut. “Hey, Payson,” he muttered as sleep tugged at his

psyche. “Thanks for calling the guys.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Kontra could hear the grin in Payson’s tone, but didn’t bother to comment as blessed sleep finally
took him away from his troubles for a time.

Chapter Four

When he opened his eyes, Tim fought back a wave of panic. He didn’t recognize where he was.

The room wasn’t a large space, maybe ten by twelve feet. Tim slowly sat up, noticing he was lying on
a twin bed and swept his gaze around the room. There wasn’t much to see. Other than the mattress,
which rested on a metal frame, there was a nightstand. That was it.

Tim forced his breathing to remain even as he struggled to navigate the fog of memories from last

night. Then he spotted his red coat tossed over the foot of the bed and it all came rushing back.

After Kontra had left, and Tim had gotten over his out of character actions, he’d headed for the

shower. While in there, the image of Kontra’s strong, tattooed arms sliding around him from behind
had his cock returning to full arousal in seconds.

He’d ignored his cock and tried to banish the idea of being held by a wet, naked—and huge—

sexy shifter. It didn’t work. Tim imagined the tattoos he’d seen, which appeared to be tribal, peeking
above the neck opening of Kontra’s coat extended all the way down his arms, sweeping along his
massive muscles accentuating the path his tongue wanted to take.

Groaning in frustration, Tim had taken his dick in hand and stroked. He’d imagined it was

Kontra’s large rough hand, holding him tightly, jacking him from root to tip over and over. In under a
minute, Tim had come harder than he had in years, and that was from just his own imaginings.

He’d waited for the guilt, the self-degradation, and the shame. Instead, all he’d heard was Gil’s

voice in his head reminding him of a conversation they’d had over a decade ago. Tim had broken his
arm, and when it had only taken three weeks to heal instead of eight—making it necessary for Gil to
remove the cast and find a new doctor for the human’s future needs to avoid questions—Tim had had
to explain that he wasn’t completely human.

When Gil had learned that Tim would outlive him, maybe by centuries, he’d pulled Tim into a

tight embrace and whispered, “Promise me you won’t mourn me forever, Tim.” He’d lifted his head
and pressed a soft kiss to Tim’s lips. Looking down at him with his big blue eyes, Gil had murmured,
“I want you to be happy, have love, you’re an amazing man and deserve it. Once I’m gone, promise
me you’ll find someone else.”

It hadn’t been a request. The words had stuck in Tim’s throat, but he’d done what he knew would

make Gil happy. He’d agreed. Tim would have done anything to make Gil happy.

Resting his head against the cold tile, Tim reached over and turned off the water. He’d decided to

follow through with his promise. He’d see if Kontra could actually care for him, even though he
wasn’t really a shifter. Gods above, the biker was sexy-as-sin.

Tim had felt so much better after remembering that, and acting on his decision, he’d gotten

dressed and made his way back to the bar, thinking maybe Shep would know where the strangers
were staying. His buddy always heard all the gossip.

He hadn’t made it to the bar.

Tim had thought he smelled a familiar scent, which had made him pause and inhale deeply. His nose
wasn’t nearly as sharp as the average shifter, but it was still better than a full human’s. Then a sharp
pain had exploded through his head. He remembered letting out a squeak of surprise as he’d crumpled
to the ground.
Rubbing his hands over his face, Tim tried to make sense of things. Whose house was he in and why
the hell was he there? He reached for his coat at the foot of the bed and checked his pockets. Okay,
keys and wallet—check. Cell phone— missing.
“Shit,” he hissed softly. That couldn’t be a good sign.

Tim rose, ignoring the dull ache in his head. It would fade soon enough. That’s when he noticed the
cold seeping from the hardwood floor through his sock-clad feet. His boots were gone. Looking
around the room, Tim couldn’t find them. Resolving to get some answers, he reached out, gripped the
doorknob, and slowly turned it. Tim had to admit, he was really quite shocked it actually rotated.
With everything else, he’d felt certain it would be locked.
He eased the door open and peeked out. Tim spotted the large stone fireplace first. A fire crackled
behind the screen, making shadows dance in the corners of the room. Two chairs faced the fire, the
front two legs resting on a throw rug covering the space between them and the hearth. Between the
chairs was what looked like a milk crate, turned on its end. A checkerboard was on top of it.
He looked around the rest of the room. A kitchen with a small, two burner stove, an equally small
refrigerator, a double sink—which he found surprising—and a respectable amount of cupboard and
counter space. His gaze paused on the front door. His boots rested beside it on the hardwood floor.
Licking his lips and inhaling, Tim knew he wasn’t alone in the cabin. He wasn’t sure where the others
were, probably behind one of the two other doors, making Tim think this was a twobedroom cabin.
Could he get away? He had to try. He’d just turned back toward the bed and his coat when another
door opened.
“Hey, Brook, look who’s finally up.”
Tim froze at the sound of the deep voice, then slowly turned back around. His jaw dropped open
when he recognized the man. Years ago, Henri had been an enforcer for his old shifter flock. The man
leaned against a kitchen counter, grinning at him, which was creepy as the smile didn’t reach his cold
blue eyes.
From one of the chairs before the fire rose another figure, and Tim fought the urge to back away.
Brook, one of his ex-flock’s trackers, swept a cool gaze over him. “So he is.” The disdain and
dismissive flick of one large hand gave Tim the distinct impression that he’d been assessed and found
lacking. “About bloody time.”
Henri snickered. “You must have hit him harder than you thought. He’s speechless.” Pointing to a
coffee pot fitted over one of the burners, Henri asked, “Want some coffee?”
Brook headed toward the kitchen, saying, “I do. Hand me a mug.” Henri did as requested, and Brook
grumbled, “And Tim’s always been weak. I didn’t hit him any harder than I’d have needed to for any
other shifter.”
When black spots danced across his vision, Tim finally remembered to breathe. He warily moved
toward the table. He hadn’t seen either of these men for decades, and wondered why they were
bothering him now.
“Have a cup of coffee,” Henri said, setting a steaming mug on the table in front of him. The shifter
sprawled in a chair across the table. Brook leaned against the counter and stared out the window,
ignoring them both.
Slowly, Tim pulled the chair out and settled into it. He reached for the coffee mug and curled his
chilly fingers around it, hoping the warmth would seep into him. “What are you guys doing here?” he
whispered. “What do you want?”
Henri shrugged. “You’ve had your fun. Alpha Pierre says it’s time for you to come home.”
Tim frowned. “I am home. Alpha Pierre doesn’t want me in the flock. He made that clear over sixty
years ago when he cut off college funds and left me stranded in the states.” His anger grew at the
memories. “And if that wasn’t clear enough,” Tim snapped, his voice rising, “the fact that he sent two
enforcers to chase me out of town, beat me to a bloody pulp, and warn me never to show my face in
France again sure as hell did it!”

“Stop humoring him, Henri,” Brook snarled, stalking toward the table.
The loathing filling Brook’s expression caused Tim to clutch the mug closer. Where Henri might at
least be a fair man, mellow and relaxed, Brook was cruel to the point of being sadistic. In the twenty
years of living with the flock before coming to
remember
the states for college, Tim couldn’t a single instance where Brook had shown mercy.
Henri lifted a brow and took in Brook’s curled lip. He lifted a shoulder, then waved toward him with
a hand, as if to say go ahead.
Brook’s smile was cold, almost reptilian. “We’ve always known where you were, Tim,” he said. “As
long as you avoided other shifters, Alpha Pierre was happy to leave you alone.”
“But I’m not part of a flock or—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Henri cut in. “It’s a real pity your mate finally tracked you down. Now your life is
forfeit. Once Pierre and Jean get here, we’re headed back home where your time will be up.” He
shrugged, as if he told people they were going to be executed all the time.
So much for being the nice one, Tim mentally grumbled. Wait a second!
“My mate? What the hell are you talking about?” Tim gasped. “Pierre said I wouldn’t have a mate
because I’m…well…different,” he finished lamely.
Brook snorted, chuckling cruelly. “You actually believed him? Gods, you’re such a dumbass.”
Tim felt the blood drain from his face, making him lightheaded. Anger quickly followed, surging
through him. He leaped to his feet. “You bastards!” he screamed. As suddenly as the rage came, it
was gone, replaced by panic. “Kontra!”
Getting a twisted look of disgust on his face, Brook snarled, “That fag and his father asked for regular
reports on you for years.” He smirked. “Why do you think the alpha supported your decision to go to
school in the states?”
“The alpha knew I had a mate out there and he kept that information from me? Why?” Tim’s brows
creased as he tried to comprehend why the hell his old alpha would lie about him having a mate. The
mate bond was sacred. Didn’t all shifters believe that?
To his surprise, Henri rose, walked around the table, and slapped him on the shoulder. “Awe, it’s not
your fault.” He shrugged and settled at the table next to him. “It’s your mom and dad’s. They never
should have fallen in love and had you. Mixing magicks is always a recipe for disaster, but they
didn’t listen.”
“Magicks?” Even more confusion flooded Tim. “What are you talking about?”
Brook growled low and mean. “Your fucking mother was a witch. The Gods blessed us the day she
died giving birth to you.”
“Don’t you talk about my mother that way!” Tim yelled, once more leaping to his feet.
Henri swung his arm, slapping Brook on the stomach. “Shut up, man. She saved our flock from a
warlock curse.”
“Oh, right,” Brook muttered, looking away.
“Okay, so my mom was a witch,” Tim said slowly. He wondered just who he could ask for more
information on that. He hadn’t heard from his father since before Alpha Pierre’s goons ran him off.
Tim scowled. “What the hell does any of that have to do with me?”
Henri crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. He eyed Tim for a moment, making him
think the man wasn’t going to answer. “Well, I guess I may as well tell you. Everyone should know
why they’re going to be put to death. Your mother had premonitions, and on her deathbed, she told us
that once your mate claimed you, you’d gain your powers.” Henri shook his head. “Sorry, man. Alpha

Pierre refuses to allow that to happen.”
Tim shivered, feeling like he’d just been doused with ice water. Even the hot coffee couldn’t warm
him. “I’m a witch?” he whispered, thoughts whirling through his brain at all the new information he’d
received. Things he’d never known and could never have guessed. Three things kept pushing to the
forefront. His mother was a witch. He had a mate. And to keep him from becoming a witch, too,
Alpha Pierre planned to execute him.
“But why?” Tim couldn’t stop the question, fear and curiosity eating at him in equal measures. “Why
would Alpha Pierre even care?”
Henri shrugged, taking another sip of coffee. “Don’t know. Don’t really care, either.”

Chapter Five

Kontra awoke to the sounds of men talking. Recognizing the voices of Payson, Sam, and Adam, he

rolled over and eyed them in the dim light of the hotel room. The shades were drawn, but a crack in
the curtains let in just enough morning light for him to make out the men sitting on the bed and chairs.

“Hey,” he muttered, forcing himself to a sitting position.

“Morning, boss,” Payson quipped, his usual chipper self.
Kontra didn’t bother responding to that, instead he nodded to the other two men before rising from the
bed and striding to the bathroom. Once he was done with his morning routine, Kontra walked back out
and over to his bag. He rummaged through it, finding his last pair of clean jeans and pulling them over
his naked ass.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Kontra caught the bagel Adam tossed to him. Before taking a big bite,
he added, “You been here long?”
Sam shook his head. “A half hour.” He opened his mouth like he was going to say more, then snapped
it shut.
The three men exchanged glances that had Kontra’s eyes narrowing.
“What?”
“We have a problem,” Sam stated softly.
Kontra swallowed his mouthful of bagel and slowly licked his lips. He just knew whatever they were
going to say was going to be something he didn’t like and his heart pounded in his chest. “What
problem?”
Payson pressed his lips together, clearly uneasy sharing whatever it was. Grimacing, he whispered,
“Tim is missing, boss.”
“What?” he roared, leaping to his feet. “What the hell do you mean, missing?”
Ducking his head in the face of Kontra’s fury, Payson quickly explained. “I was up early, so decided
to take a look around. I found the bookstore Tim owns, and it was supposed to open at nine this
morning. Well, he never showed up. His employee opened the store, but couldn’t get hold of him. I
went round to his house, and scented a faint trace on the breeze. He left the house the night before, but
didn’t return.” Payson chanced a quick glance at him through his lashes, before ducking his head
submissively again. “He was intercepted by some other shifters. Their scent trail headed north.”
Kontra threw his head back and let out a roar of anguish. Angrily, he swung his arm and swiped the
lamp off the nightstand. It slammed into the wall and shattered. His chest heaving, Kontra struggled to
slow his breathing, to regain the control his pack thought him famous for.
Dropping back onto the bed, Kontra raked his fingers through his hair. He rocked forward and back,
struggling to understand Fate’s design, then leaped back to his feet, deciding he didn’t give a shit
about what Fate planned. He wouldn’t lose his mate—not again.
He grabbed his leather jacket and pulled it on over his bare chest and shoved his bare feet into his
boots. Sucking in a deep breath, Kontra strode over to Payson and rested a hand on the back of his
pack member’s neck. He used his thumb to massage the tension from the tendons and softly ordered,
“Take me there.”
“Yes, boss,” Payson immediately responded.
Unmindful of the cold, Kontra followed Payson outside and to their bikes. Kontra swung his leg over
and brought his hog to life. Seconds later, Payson, Adam, and Sam did the same to their own
motorcycles. He followed Payson down the road and along a side street.
Payson came to a stop and put one foot down to balance his bike. He flipped up his visor and inhaled

deeply. Looking at Kontra, he said, “Here.”
Kontra didn’t know why a hyena shifter had a nose better than a bloodhound’s, but the man had never
been wrong. He slowly inhaled, working to differentiate between fuel exhaust, various humans, and
animal excrement. Underneath all that, he found the scent of his mate.
It had the expected affect, since they were not yet mated, his dick quickly filled. “He was here,” he
muttered. Kontra looked at Payson. “Can you follow the trail?”
Payson swallowed, then scented the air again. “Maybe. They were in a car,” he muttered. He started
moving again, slowly, leaving his visor up as he wound his bullet bike through the streets in a
northern direction.
It was slow going, and Kontra’s mounted every time Payson had to around, and seek a new direction.
He had to bite his tongue several times to keep from snapping at the shifter. Kontra knew it wouldn’t
help.
When Payson stopped for at least the sixth time, he actually took his helmet off, set it on the tank in
front of him and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, boss,” he murmured, frowning while
looking around at the forest surrounding them. “I’m just not sure…”
frustration stop, turn
Kontra bit back a wave of frustration and anger. He nodded and kept his mouth shut, knowing he’d say
something he’d regret to the man. It wasn’t Payson’s fault. It was his. He shouldn’t have returned to
the bar. He should have camped outside his mate’s house to make certain nothing happened to him.
The failing was his alone.
He rubbed his temples with his fingers, trying to alleviate the tension headache building behind his
eyes. Kontra’s gaze flickered to the ground. He was about to pop his neck when something on the side
of the road caught his attention.
Dropping his kickstand, Kontra swung his leg over and stalked to the side of the road. He squatted
next to the tire marks in the dirt. “These tracks are fresh and seem to go directly into the forest,” he
mused.
His friends parked their bikes and followed behind him as Kontra walked around the tracks to where
the gravel stopped. “How is that possible with all the shrubbery?”
“Kontra, take a look at this,” Sam called from the other side of the tracks.
Kontra strode over and watched in shock as Sam put his hand through a tree. “What the hell?” he
whispered, doing the same. A light tingle caressed his fingertips, but that was it. “An illusion,”
Kontra muttered. “If the tree is an illusion…”
No longer trusting his eyes, Kontra closed them. Instead, he relied on his sense of smell and his
bear’s instincts. With his hands held in front of him, Kontra took a slow step forward. He felt how the
currents of wind caressed his cheeks and chest and slipped to the right, then forward again.
“Hey, Kontra!” Adam called. “Where the hell did you go?”
He opened his eyes and bit back a gasp of surprise. “Holy shit,” Kontra muttered. “There’s a fucking
road.”
“All right,” Payson said loudly. “I can smell and hear you. Where did you go, Kontra?”
He looked over his shoulder and realized he had a clear view of his three friends. All of them seemed
to be peering into the forest without seeing him. “It looks like we’re facing a witch or warlock or
something,” Kontra warned. He cut off the three men’s grumblings by ordering, “All of you, head
straight toward the sound of my voice. Don’t look at the thicket. It’s an illusion. There’s really a two
lane track here.”
Once the three men stood around him and stared with wide-eyed amazement at the narrow trail

leading into the woods, Kontra started following the lane. Ten minutes of jogging, and Payson hissed
and ducked behind a bush off to the side.
Kontra hesitated only an instant before following him, Adam and Sam close behind. Crouching down,
they waited. Not a moment later, a small SUV came rumbling up the track behind them, drove by
without slowing, and continued deeper into the forest.
To their surprise, the engine sound changed, telling Kontra the vehicle had been shifted into idle.
Voices, too faint for him to understand, carried through the trees. Kontra growled low in his throat
when he scented Tim’s luscious smell on the breeze.
“What is it?” Sam asked softly.
“I smell Tim. He’s close,” Kontra replied, trying to stifle the growl rumbling through his chest.
“Sounds like that SUV is headed back this way. Let’s stop and ask them,” Adam said.
“That sounds like a grand idea. Payson, Sam, stay human. Adam and I will bring their vehicle to a
stop,” Kontra stated, already stripping his jacket and tossing it over a tree branch.
“Got it boss. We’ll find out what happened to Tim,” Payson said, his grin turning feral.
Knowing he could rely on his pack mates, Kontra initiated his shift. Seconds later, he ruffled out his
fur and cocked his head, listening. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Adam’s white tiger crouching
beside him, his ears twitching.
The crunch of twigs under tires and branches smacking on metal heralded the approach of the SUV.
Just before the vehicle reached them, Adam streaked across the lane. The vehicle swerved. Kontra
lunged toward it, ducked his head, and slammed his massively muscled hump into the already out-of-
control vehicle.
Metal crunched and gave under his hefty frame. Kontra spun around on his haunches and took in the
wrecked front end, pleased at the way the axel had bent, making the tire cock-eyed. That SUV
wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. He heard shouting and watched Payson ordering everyone
out of the vehicle, Sam a step behind. Kontra lumbered toward them, fixing to flank his pack mates,
Adam on the other side.
“You’ve kidnapped my alpha’s mate,” Payson shouted at the four strangers who were piling out of the
SUV, pulling a pale-featured Tim behind them. He waved a hand toward Kontra, indicating he was
the alpha in question, who couldn’t stop a snarl from escaping him.
The one who’d been in the driver’s seat glared at them. “Tim is a member of our flock and you have
no right to interfere,” he snapped.
Kontra growled at the man’s tone. Payson smirked and crossed his arms. Adam showed off his fangs.
Sam planted his fists on his hips and snarled, “What part of kidnapping a mate did you miss,
fuckers?” With the scar bisecting Sam’s face and the obvious anger lighting his eyes, Sam made an
impressive figure.
Ignoring the look of outrage on the driver’s face and how red-faced the biggest man was becoming at
Sam’s belligerence, Sam turned to Tim and held out his hand. “Do you want to stay with these men,
Tim? Or come with us?”
Tim looked around the group, then stepped toward Sam. Kontra couldn’t hold in the grunt when
Payson gripped his mate’s arm. Fortunately, the hyena shifter steered him toward Kontra.
“Let’s get you reunited with your mate, Tim,” Payson murmured. “He’s been a bear with you bein’
gone,” he added, snickering.
Tim’s eyes widened, then he looked at Kontra in bear form. “Oh, right. Sorry.”
“You will not take him alive!” the man who’d been in the passenger seat screamed. His words ended
in a screech. That seemed to be an order for the four strangers to start shifting. Clothes were shed

while feathers, beaks, and claws formed, replacing skin, hands, and feet.
Kontra leaped toward Tim, the need to protect his mate surging through him. Three of the owl shifters
managed to complete their change and take to the air, but Adam smacked the fourth with his big white
paw, sending it careening. The shifter’s squawk was silenced when he hit a tree and crumpled to the
ground.
The three large European Eagle owls circled above, their sharp talons gleaming in the morning light.
Kontra became aware of the acrid stench of fear coming from Tim, who cowered beneath his bulk. He
couldn’t do anything to reassure his mate in animal form, especially with three flying shifters
attempting to dive bomb them and slice up his back. Good thing his fur and hide was so thick.
Sam dropped to a knee next to them and called, “Just stay there, Tim. Kontra will keep you safe.
We’ll take care of these troublemakers.”
One of the owl shifters took that opportunity to dive toward Kontra, trying to swoop under him and
strike Tim. Payson, in hyena form, leaped forward and snatched the shifter out of mid-air in his jaws.
Feathers muffled his happy yips as he landed on all fours and shook his head violently. On one
vicious shake, Payson released his prize and it went flying into the woods, crashing into the
underbrush.
Kontra swatted a second owl, managing to clip its wing, while the third struck at his back, sinking his
talons deep, trying to make him move from his position guarding his mate. He shook his shoulders,
knocking the bird loose just as Adam leaped over his back. The loosened bird dodged, slipping under
a roaring Adam and back into the air to join the other owl.
From out of nowhere, a third owl appeared. Screeching loudly, aggressively, he reached his claws
toward the larger of the two shifters. It slammed into the shifter, trying to rend and tear with its talons.
In a clash of claws and feathers, the two owls tumbled to the ground.
The shifter from the car recovered first, and it took—unsteadily—to the air. After a squawk to the
other still-flying owl, the pair soared away. Once they’d disappeared, Adam slowly prowled to the
just stirring owl that had come to their defense.
Kontra watched as the shifter shivered and shuddered. His feathers disappeared, his beak smoothed
out, and his body grew. Seconds later, a lean man with sandy brown hair lay on the ground eying the
white tiger in front of him.
Tim rose to his knees beneath Kontra, who adjusted his weight, giving his mate room to move.
“Dad?”
His mate’s whispered word sent a shock through Kontra’s system.
“Tim,” the man whispered. “I’ve finally found you!”

Chapter Six

Lying half under a massive grizzly bear, rescued by a group of strange shifters, Tim didn’t think

his day could get any weirder. He was grateful, make no mistake of that. There was just no way he
could ever have expected to be saved from his ex-flock’s alpha and his minions by people he didn’t
know, as well as find out his father had been looking for him all in one day.

It was a good thing he’d recognized the slender redhead as the man who’d been with Kontra at the

bar, otherwise Tim wasn’t sure he’d have had the courage to jump from the proverbial frying pan and
into the fire. The bear, Kontra, he realized, now that he was close enough to smell him, was fucking
huge, not to mention piss-your-pants scary when doing anything that showed off his long, sharp teeth!

To Tim’s relief, Kontra stepped back and allowed him to get to his feet. When he took a step

toward his father, Kontra butted him with his head, forcing him in the other direction. Tim took that as
a sign to stay put.

Instead, he called, “Dad? You’ve been looking for me?” He couldn’t mask his disbelief.

On his right, someone appeared holding clothes and Kontra’s body shuddered next to him. Tim
ignored it, waiting for Luc’s response.
“Yes, son, I’ve been looking for you,” Luc responded, his gaze flicking between the white tiger sitting
on the ground five feet from him, eying him speculatively and Tim. “Beta Jean told me you ran away
because some pack members were harassing you about being gay.” His voice turned thick with
emotions. “I always thought, if I could find you and tell you that kind of thing didn’t matter to me,
you’d come home.”
“That’s not what happened,” Tim whispered.
When Kontra put his leather jacket-clad arm around him, Tim pressed against the big man’s side and
took the comfort he offered.
“I realize that now,” Luc said sadly. “I overheard Alpha Pierre on the phone yesterday giving the
order to kidnap you. I realized that…he’d been lying all this time.” Luc’s tone entreated Tim to
believe him, as did the hope filling his father’s hazel eyes.
“I think it’d be best if we finished this discussion elsewhere,” Kontra’s deep voice cut into their
conversation. “Adam, shift and dress,” he ordered the white tiger. He turned his attention to Luc and
said, “I assume you’re Tim’s father. I’m Kontra, his mate,” Kontra declared.
Tim watched his father look Kontra up and down, then stare pointedly for a couple seconds at the
possessive arm he had around Tim. Finally, he nodded slowly. “I’m Luc Laurent. I remember you
asking questions about my son years ago. How long have you been mated?” he asked, rising to his
feet.
“We’re not, yet,” Kontra admitted. He gently cupped Tim’s jaw and tilted his head so he could bring
their faces closer. Kontra rubbed the hair of his goatee against the side of Tim’s face, and again, he
marveled at its softness. The heat of lust and desire burned in the dark depths of Kontra’s eyes as he
whispered, “It’s something I plan to rectify very, very soon.”
Kontra pressed his lips against Tim’s, rubbing them together once, twice, before flicking his tongue
out and tracing the seam of Tim’s mouth. Tim’s hands gripped the buttery soft leather of the coat
Kontra wore as he practically fell into the kiss.
He opened quickly, eager for another taste of this shifter. Kontra slid his hand to the nape of Tim’s
neck, cradling his head as he plundered Tim’s mouth, twining their tongues and mapping his mouth.
A snicker from one of the men drew them out of their lustful exchange.
Kontra lifted his head and smiled. “Guess this really isn’t the place. Come on.”

As they walked, Kontra introduced his packmates as Payson, Sam, and Adam. Adam was good
enough to give Luc his sweatshirt to wrap around his waist until they could get him something else to
wear at the bikes. Nudity wasn’t the issue. It was more a matter of not wanting Luc’s fine dangly bits
—as Payson called them—to get scraped by a branch or bush. And watching a man, anyone actually,
hit on his father made Tim more uncomfortable than he cared to admit.
Tim’s eyes widened in surprise when he actually got his first look at Kontra’s motorcycle. He’d
known the guy drove one, his leathers gave it away. He just didn’t think it would be so…big. Then
Tim looked at Kontra and nearly rolled his eyes at himself. Of course, the chrome and black machine
would be big.
“At the moment, I only have the one helmet,” Kontra said, handing it to Tim. “Put it on, honey. We’ll
pick one out for you as soon as we can find a shop.”
“Uh, okay,” Tim murmured.
He watched Kontra swing his leg over the bike and start it up. He patted the small space behind him
and grinned. “Come on, honey. Climb aboard and hang on tight.”
Tim swallowed hard, then obeyed, placing his foot on the peg Kontra indicated. Resting his hand on
Kontra’s shoulder, Tim swung on behind him. The seat was small, forcing Tim to press against the
bigger man. He slipped his arms around Kontra and fought back a moan at the hard abs under his
fingers.
“You’re not wearing a shirt,” he whispered. Why didn’t I notice that before?
Kontra put his bike in gear and started moving. “When I realized you’d been taken, I was in kind of a
hurry,” he admitted. “Pulling on a shirt was the last thing on my mind.
Tim smiled at that. It was nice knowing the shifter cared that much. Sure, it was probably just the
mate-pull, but…wait. “Henri, one of the guy’s in the SUV, said you asked after me before I left for the
states.”
“That’s right.”
“You knew, even then, that I was your mate?”
“Yes, Tim. I knew,” Kontra confirmed.
“Why didn’t you ever approach me?” The fact that his mate waited, which had resulted in him being
chased from his flock, really hurt. “Didn’t you want me then?”
Kontra glanced over his shoulder at him and frowned. “Get that thought out of your head, right now,”
he ordered gruffly. “You were fifteen when I scented you. I couldn’t claim you then. And once you
came of age, my father convinced me to let you live for a few years, let you get some experience
under your belt.”
“Why?”
“We worried you’d come to resent me if I claimed you too young.” Tim caught the grimace on
Kontra’s face when he glanced back at him. “I realize that sounds stupid now, but…” He shrugged.
“I understand,” Tim said, and he really did. If Kontra had claimed him, he never would have had
seventeen amazing years with Gil. He still missed his human lover, but he had a funny feeling he’d no
longer be lonely.
They drove back toward town. The silence only lasted for a couple of minutes. Kontra looked at him
over his shoulder and asked, “Who were those shifters?”
“My old flock’s alpha, Pierre, is the one who said I had to die,” he stated, sounding bitter even to
himself. “The beta, Jean, was driving. The asshole with the icy blue eyes was a tracker named Brook
and the final guy was Henri, an enforcer,” Tim replied.
“Why did they take you? Why does the alpha want you dead?”

Tension flooded Tim as he remembered the things he’d been told. “Because…I’d rather tell you when
you’re not driving,” he said, more than willing to delay this conversation. Would him becoming a
magick-wielder be a deal breaker?
“Okay,” Kontra responded, drawing the word out.
Too bad that only gave him about five minutes. The group pulled into down their bikes, and home.
Kontra’s shifters wandered around, taking in the decor. His father hung back, and Kontra followed
Tim into the dining room.
“Can I…can I offer anyone some coffee?” he asked slowly.
“I’ll take care of that, son,” Luc offered. “You’ve had a rough night. Why don’t you have a seat?”
Tim nodded, rubbing the bump on his head absently. The goose egg was nearly gone already. “If you
want something that fits better, you’re welcome to raid my closet.” He pointed toward the hall. The
offer was meant as an olive branch. It was easy to see that his father had been lied to about his
whereabouts.
“I’d like that,” Luc murmured.
“Second door on the right,” Tim said, pointing. Then as Luc walked by, following his direction, Tim
pulled his father into a hug. “Thank you.”
Luc tightened the embrace. “I thought I’d lost you, boy,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice shaking a
little.
“Me, too,” Tim responded, fighting back tears. his driveway, shutting trooping into his little He’d
given up on ever seeing his father again, thinking Luc had written him off. Now he had his father back
plus a sexy mate wanting to claim him and care for him, all in the span of twenty-four hours. To say
he felt a little overwhelmed would be an understatement.
Easing away, Luc ruffled his hair just like he’d done when Tim was a boy. “We’ll catch up later.
There are other things to take care of first.” Before releasing him, the older man added, “Just
remember, I’ve always loved you and have been proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Tim whispered.
Once Luc disappeared into the bedroom, Adam announced that he was making breakfast. Tim’s brows
shot up as the man took over his kitchen with the help of Payson and Sam.
“Tim,” Kontra called from his place in the living room. Tim looked toward Kontra, who beckoned
him to sit on the sofa beside him. “Come here and tell me what’s going on with your old flock,” he
ordered softly.
Obeying without thought, Tim found himself seated next to his mate—Holy shit, I actually accept the
fact that I have a mate! Kontra took one of his hands between both his large ones and stared, waiting
patiently.
Licking his lips, Tim wondered where to start. Isn’t the beginning always best? “I left the flock to go
to school in the states when I was twenty,” he said slowly. “I’d never shifted, so it wasn’t like I was
really one of the flock.” He didn’t bother to tell all the gory details of how many of the flock members
ostracized him or ignored him, which was actually better than the ones that went out of their way to
elbow him or punch him. The fact that the alpha had even seen people do it and his response was
boys will be boys, had led to Tim’s request to leave.
“I’d just finished my first year when a couple of enforcers showed up on my doorstep and beat me so
badly that if I’d been human I’d have been dead,” Tim revealed. “As they left, they ordered me to stay
away from shifters and to never return to France or I’d be killed.” Taking strength from the low
growls emanating from Kontra, Tim continued,
“I was too afraid to try contacting my dad, so I obeyed. After I’d healed enough, I left town. Until

settling here and buying the bookstore fifteen years ago, I’d never stayed too long in one place. Too
worried about discovery, I guess. It hasn’t been all bad,” he finished with a shrug.
Kontra smiled and squeezed his hand. “You moved here with Gil.”
It wasn’t a question, but Tim nodded anyway.
Leaning over, Kontra pressed a soft kiss to his lips, his whiskers tickling Tim’s face. “At some point,
I’d love to hear all about the man who brought you so much joy,” he said, surprising Tim. “But for
right now, I really need to know if you can tell me why your old alpha is after you, since you never
returned to France.”
Taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly, Tim looked Kontra in the eye and stated, “It’s because
you finally found me. My alpha told me I’d never find a mate, since I’m not really a shifter.” He held
up a hand when Kontra opened his mouth, stopping him from speaking. “I know that’s not true now,”
he murmured, leaning close to brush the man’s lips with a kiss. Praying his next words didn’t lose him
said mate, Tim explained, “While I was at the cabin being watched by Henri and Brook, they told me
that while my mother was dying, she prophesied that I’m a warlock and when I mate, I’ll gain my
powers. I don’t know why Alpha Pierre doesn’t want that to happen.”
To Tim’s relief, even though Kontra straightened in his seat, he didn’t pull away. The big shifter
sucked in a breath, deeply, then let it out slowly through scarcely parted lips. “Wow,” he finally
murmured. He squeezed Tim’s hand once and nodded. “I guess we need to find out why he doesn’t
want you gaining your powers. You’re in another country, so it seems irrelevant.”
“I can answer that,” Luc said from the doorway, announcing his presence.
“That’d be good.” Kontra waved a hand, encouraging him to go on.
Luc sat down in a chair, placed his palms on his thighs and just sat for a moment. He rubbed his
palms over the faded blue sweats he wore, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. Finally, he looked
at Tim and said, “You know your mother, Melanie, wasn’t my true mate.” After Tim nodded, he
continued. “I loved her very much, but Pierre wanted her for himself. Since, I’m bisexual and
everyone in the flock knew it, Pierre tried to use that to sway Melanie to his side.”
He smiled, obviously buried deep in memories. “It didn’t work. She loved me, too.” His look turned
sad. “In order for her to stay with the flock, she had to turn her powers over to Pierre. A witch’s
powers normally pass from mother to daughter, but because she knew she was going to die upon
birthing you, she cast a spell to pass her powers to you, instead.” Luc’s gaze focused on Tim. “That
means, when you inherit your powers, Pierre loses any benefits he’s gained from them, including
increased abilities.”
“Well, that explains from the doorway. “Breakfast is ready,” he announced, as if Luc hadn’t done
anything more than pass on a fond memory.
strength and healing
a lot,” Payson quipped

Maybe it was as simple as that, Tim decided as he allowed Kontra to urge him up from the couch

and to the dining room. If his mate wasn’t going to get all bent out of shape about this, maybe he
shouldn’t either.

Chapter Seven

Kontra’s mind reeled. Of course, it was hard to think with his dick pressed painfully against his

fly. He fought every second to keep from grabbing his mate, laying him across the couch, and sinking
his cock in deep. He grimaced as those imaginings sent a fresh wave of blood to his already engorged
shaft.

Instead of doing what he wanted, namely grabbing Tim, bypassing the dining room, and dragging

his sexy mate to the nearest bed, Kontra sat down at the table. He piled food on his plate, and ate with
his pack mates.

“So what are we gonna do?” Sam asked. “Claim my mate,” Kontra stated, then turned to gaze at

Tim, pinning him with a heated look. “If you’re amenable to that,” he purred, dropping his tone to a
low growl. He turned in his chair, reached out, and cupped Tim’s jaw. “I’ve spent a long time
looking for you, Tim,” Kontra stated, rubbing their noses together. “I will do everything in my power
to keep you safe, to care for you, to love you,” he punctuated each claim with a soft kiss.
“Yeah, we could do that,” Tim murmured breathlessly.
An excited snarl rumbled through Kontra’s chest, and he leaped to his feet, pulling Tim along with
him. “Payson, collect our things and check out of the motel. Adam, let everyone know where we are.
We’ll be busy for a while,” he tossed out as he tugged Tim down the hall.
Laughter erupted from Payson, but Kontra ignored him, along with the amused, yet pleased,
expressions on his pack mate’s faces. “Come on,” he urged Tim, his dick making rational thought
difficult.
“Wait, Kontra?”
Luc’s tentative tone caught Kontra’s attention. Forcing his desire to the back of his mind, again,
Kontra turned and lifted a brow in question.
The slender man shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uneasy about whatever
he wanted to say. When Luc spoke, it wasn’t what Kontra expected—namely, a father’s take-care-of-
my-son-or-else said, “I’d like to your…pack, gang?”
Kontra’s brows works,” he started slowly, taking in the man’s request speech. Instead, he permission
to join

shot up. “Whichever term clearly hopeful expression. “Why do you want to join?”
Luc’s gaze flickered to Tim, then returned to Kontra. “I lost a lot of years by blindly following

Alpha Pierre’s insistence that he was searching for Tim but couldn’t find him. I want the opportunity
to reconnect with my son, and seeing as you are obviously alpha of your gang, I’d like permission to
join you.”

Cocking his head, Kontra quirked up a corner of his lip. “You know how to ride?”

Luc nodded.
“Then you’re welcome to join us.” Kontra looked at Tim. “As long as you don’t have any objections.”
Tim smiled radiantly at him, making a fresh wave of lust crash over him. “Of course not, thank you.”
“Now that that’s settled,” Kontra rumbled. He grabbed his mate’s hand and practically dragged him
the rest of the way to the bedroom. As he entered, he inhaled and was surprised to find only Tim’s
scent in the room. Pivoting, Kontra pressed his mate against the closed door. He buried his nose in
Tim’s neck and inhaled, taking in his mate’s aroused, tangy scent. “Fuck, you smell fantastic. How
come I only scent you in here?” Kontra hated bringing this up now, but he would have thought Gil’s
smell would still linger, even after six months.
Tilting his head, Tim moaned softly before responding. “I shouldn’t be so fucking turned on when you

ask me that,” he muttered.
“Just want to make sure you feel good,” Kontra responded, nipping, then sucking the sensitive tendons
of the man’s neck.
“Ugh, I couldn’t stay…stay in the same bed anymore. Changed rooms and…mm, oh…bought new
furniture. Planned to take it with me when I moved in a few days,” Tim managed to explain.
Kontra paused for a second at that revelation, then pushed it away in favor of thinking about other
things—namely, getting his mate naked and moaning. More than willing to allow his driving need to
pleasure and claim his mate to take precedence over everything else, Kontra gripped his mate’s hips
and lifted him. He liked how Tim immediately wrapped his legs around his waist and clung to him,
rocking his hips, pressing his hard cock against Kontra’s aching one.
Moving to the bed, Kontra laid Tim down gently. He willed himself to be patient, wanting to show his
mate exquisite pleasure. Kneeling on the bed between Tim’s spread legs, he rested his hands on his
lover’s thighs and slowly stroked up his trembling legs.
When Tim reached for him, Kontra grabbed his wrists, stopping him. Knowing if his mate touched
him, all semblance of control would be gone, Kontra ordered gruffly, “Grab your headboard and
don’t move unless I say so.”
Kontra released Tim’s arms and watched him obey. Tim’s breathing hitched as he wrapped his
fingers around the bottom of his headboard and held on. “What are you…” Tim paused and licked his
lips, making Kontra want to follow the moist path with his own tongue. “What are you going to do?”
“Pleasure you,” Kontra replied sensuously.
Kontra returned his hands to Tim’s thighs, pushing them wider. Skimming his hands up Tim’s legs, he
relished the feel of the firm, twitching muscles under his fingers. When he reached the crease of the
man’s groin, Kontra paused and took in the hard ridge pressing against the fly of Tim’s slacks.
“So beautiful,” Kontra murmured, rubbing his thumbs along the sides of the cloth-covered erection.
Tim mewled as his hips shifted and twitched. Unable to wait a second longer, Kontra made quick
work of his mate’s button and zipper. He greedily gazed at the wet spot surrounding the head of his
lover’s cock. Rumbling in pleasure at how Tim’s body responded to his touch, Kontra eased the
elastic edge of Tim’s boxer-briefs over the head of his cock, revealing the red, bloodengorged,
weeping tip.
The scent of his mate’s pre-cum hit his senses, making his own prick twitch and ooze in his jeans.
Growling low in his throat, his body nearly vibrating with excitement, Kontra buried his nose in the
crease of Tim’s groin and inhaled.
It was his turn to moan. Kontra’s gums ached, his canines threatening to extend. Gripping the edges of
Tim’s fly, he gave a sharp jerk. The sound of rending fabric filled the room, and Tim’s cock and balls
spilled from the ruined material.
Tim gasped. “Kontra,” he whispered breathily, his hips bucking, obviously affected by the cool air
hitting his pulsing shaft.
Although he liked the begging quality filling Tim’s tone, Kontra knew he wouldn’t be able to wait
much longer, and he wanted to bring his mate pleasure before burying himself balls deep in Tim’s
channel. Swooping down, he swallowed his mate’s prick to the root in one swift movement.
Howling, Tim’s back bowed. Nearly overwhelmed by the sound and taste and smell of his mate,
Kontra sucked hard on the stiff shaft, needing more, needing everything from his mate. He swallowed,
his throat muscles working the smooth, sensitive glans where it lodged in the back of his throat.
That was enough.
Kontra’s mouth filled with Tim’s release, more shooting down his throat. He pulled off slightly,

allowing the next shot to hit his tongue, allowing him to truly taste the salty essence of his mate. Once
he was certain he’d milked Tim dry, Kontra gave a few more soft sucks to his penis head, pleased
that it remained stiff.
Releasing Tim’s cock, Kontra rose up and walked his hands up either side of Tim’s torso until his
face hovered over his lover’s. Lowering his head, first Kontra pulled Tim’s plump lower lip into his
mouth and tugged lightly. Once Tim groaned, Kontra deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into Tim’s
mouth, letting him taste himself on his tongue.
Tim lifted his hips, Kontra’s groin. Kontra shuddering. He had to fight back his urge to come just from
that, coupled with the taste of his mate on his tongue and the sight of his sexy lover spread out and
willing.
“You have lube?” Kontra growled out.
“Y-yes,” Tim stuttered. He looked toward the nightstand. “Top drawer.”
That was a relief. Kontra reached over and fished out the lube. Just as he reached for the button on his
jeans, desperately wanting relief, loud pounding rocked the bedroom door. Snarling in frustration,
Kontra almost ignored it.
Then, Sam called, “Kontra, sorry to bother, but grinding up against moaned, his body you really need
to come out here. The owl beta, Jean, is here.”
“Son of a bitch,” he snarled. Kontra dropped his head and struggled to regain some semblance of
control. Opening his eyes, Kontra stared down at his lover and ordered, “Stay there. I’ll see what he
wants and get rid of him.” He dropped the lube next to Tim and levered off the bed.
Grinning, he took in Tim’s disappointed look. Inordinate pleasure filled Kontra knowing he wasn’t
the only one upset about the interruption. Then he swept his gaze over Tim’s disheveled clothes,
ruined slacks that gaped open and revealed his once more hard and leaking cock. Fighting back a
groan, he muttered gruffly, “You can ready yourself if you want, but no coming until I’m buried deep
in your ass.”
Tim actually glared at him. “Spoil sport.”
That had Kontra grinning. “I’m going to spank your ass for that,” he teased, winking.
The way Tim flushed had Kontra thinking maybe he really did need to find out how his red handprint
would look on his mate’s creamy pale skin and it seemed Tim wouldn’t object too much. When Sam
knocked and called again, Kontra shook his head and tossed a throw blanket over Tim’s naked groin.
Yanking the door open, Kontra snarled, “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
He stalked past a chagrined Sam, who muttered, “Sorry, Kontra,” and followed him down the hall
into the living room.
Kontra paused just inside the doorway, taking in the nervous look of the guy. He recognized him as
one of the shifters they’d taken Tim away from in the woods. “Who are you, and what do you want?”
Kontra asked bluntly, in no mood to be patient.
The guy swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing. “My name is Beta Jean Leflore. You
have taken one of our flock members and we want him returned safely. You have no right to keep
him.”
Kontra had to give the guy credit for managing to keep his voice steady while stating his demands.
Too bad the guy’s scent gave him away. The shifter was scared shitless. Since the guy was there in
peace, Kontra wondered what caused the man’s fear.
His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his considerable chest. With the Celtic designs that
covered his right shoulder down his arm and the grizzly that crawled over his left shoulder, coupled
with his massive frame, shaggy dark, silver-tipped hair, and goatee, he could appear fucking

intimidating. Kontra used that to his advantage as he glared at the man and growled, “Tim is my mate
and chose to return with me. You and your flock have no claim to him.”
Even before Kontra had finished speaking, Jean had started shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he
whispered. “That’s not acceptable.”
His words were punctuated by the crash of breaking glass and a muffled shout of surprised. Kontra’s
eyes widened and he pivoted on the toe of his boot. “Hold him,” he roared the order over his
shoulder as he sprinted down the hall back to the room where he’d left Tim.
Shoving the door open, Kontra roared at the sight of a big man pinning Tim to the bed. His lover
twisted and bucked, trying unsuccessfully to break free. “Release him!” Kontra thundered.
The guy turned to look at him, his eyes glowing unnaturally. “The magick is mine. You can’t have it,”
he snarled, sounding almost crazed. “Die, Tim!”
Kontra watched in shock as the man shifted into an impressively sized European Eagle Owl
impossibly fast. Kontra was a pretty strong alpha, and even he couldn’t shift in the blink of an eye.
The odd light that had flooded the shifter’s eyes as a human—who had to be Alpha Pierre—still
glowed as an owl.
Tim’s scream and the scent of blood snapped Kontra out of his shock. He roared his anger and leaped
forward. He grabbed the wings of the flapping owl, pulled it away from Tim, and threw it across the
room.
The shifter landed with a bone-crunching thump and dropped to the floor, leaving a dent in the
drywall. Kontra let the change come. His jeans tore as his limbs thickened, realigned, and grew hair.
As he leaped toward his lover’s attacker, he kicked off his boots, giving his claws room to grow. He
snapped at the owl as it flapped its wings and just barely evaded his lunge.
Growling loudly, Kontra swung his big head and followed the owl’s movements, pleased to see the
stiffness and obvious pain caused by moving the right wing. Before his eyes, the shifter’s flying
evened out and its wing mended. Then the shifter went after Tim again.
Kontra lumbered across the room. This time he swung a massive paw at Pierre. He connected, raking
his long, lethally sharp claws deep amongst the feathers. The owl screeched and flapped, barely
keeping its bleeding form from slamming into a dresser.
Not waiting this time, Kontra attacked again, hitting the shifter with the pad of his paw. The owl
tumbled to the floor. Immediately, Kontra spread one massive paw over the downed owl. He brought
his face close to the owl, preparing to strike, when the shifter beneath his paw shuddered and shifted.
One moment, Kontra held down a large brown and white owl. In the next instant, he stared down at a
man. “Mercy,” Pierre pleaded, staring up at him through his lashes as he struggled to breathe under
the weight of Kontra’s bear-paw.
Kontra roared, not liking that idea one bit.
He felt a presence at his shoulder, and tilted his head just enough to focus one eye on Payson. The
hyena shifter sneered. “Like you were going to show mercy to Tim? You deserve none.”
Alpha Pierre’s face paled. “Please.”
Kontra decided his pack mate was right. Ignoring the pleas escaping the alpha’s throat, he roared
again. This shifter had sent men to beat the shit out of his mate, he’d kept them apart for decades, and
he’d broken into Tim’s home and attacked his mate. There would be no mercy. Opening his jaws, he
latched on to the shifter’s throat and bit down. Blood oozed around his teeth and tongue, the bitter,
copper taste soothing his bear’s anger and need for justice.
Once the light of life leeched from Pierre’s eyes, Kontra released him, threw his head back, and
roared. His mate was safe.

“Kontra!”
Adam’s call brought Kontra back to the room and what had prompted his shift. He turned toward Tim
and spotted his buddy holding a rag to Tim’s neck. Gaining control, Kontra initiated his shift and
resumed his human form.
Reaching his mate’s side, Kontra took in the blood soaking through the sheet Adam held against his
lover’s upper chest. Fear tore through him when he saw how shallowly Tim breathed. He seemed to
struggle for each breath, his pale skin, and shock-filled eyes.
“No, Tim,” Kontra said, the sound rent from his throat. “You will not leave me.”

Chapter Eight

Tim tried to keep his breathing slow and even, but each breath felt like he was sucking in needles.

It was hell resisting the urge to hack. He just knew that would hurt even worse. He’d thought listening
to his mate fight with his ex-alpha and not being able to do anything had been hell. Now that the
excitement was past, and he felt the pressure applied by Adam, he just wanted to pass out and make it
all go away.

He closed his eyes, deciding it just might not be a bad idea to let the spots dancing behind his

eyes win.

“Tim. Open your eyes right now, Tim. Don’t you dare fall asleep,” Kontra ordered gruffly.

Swallowing hard, Tim opened his mouth, wanting to assure his clearly worried mate.
“No, don’t talk yet. You’re going to be just fine,” Kontra said, trying to soothe him. “Just open your
eyes for me. Let me see those pretty hazel eyes.”
Tim smiled a bit at that. He hadn’t really thought Kontra the pretty words type. He cracked his eyes
and looked up at his mate.
“Hey, everything will be fine,” Kontra whispered.
Tim wanted to believe that, but then why was it so difficult to raise his arm?
“When’s Eli supposed to be here?” Kontra asked, glancing toward Adam, clearly directing the
question toward him.
“He’s about an hour out,” Adam replied.
“I’m not sure Tim will last that long,” Luc murmured.
Tim finally realized everyone was crowded around the bed looking at him. Well, shit, that can’t be
good. He finally looked down to where he hurt…and nearly passed out at the sight of blood, his
blood, soaking through the fabric. “Mmmf,” he whimpered.
“Easy, honey,” Kontra crooned. “We’ll get you patched up and soon you’ll be right as rain.”
“Kontra, he doesn’t heal like a shifter,” Luc cut in.
“What do you mean?” Kontra snapped.
Luc grimaced. “His mother was human, a witch. Tim heals like a mated human does, slower, easier to
hurt, not as strong, and he has none of the shifter senses.”
Tim wanted to groan. He hated how his father had just succinctly listed all his shortcomings. He’d
planned to share those tidbits with Kontra himself…eventually.
Kontra cursed quietly, running a hand through his hair. Tim wanted to soothe him, but he felt so tired.
His eyelids slid shut.
“Look at me, Tim,” Kontra snarled. “Open those eyes back up, now,” the big shifter ordered.
It took such an effort, but Tim obeyed. Fear stabbed through him at the amount of effort it took. Is this
what dying was like? His head felt fuzzy, black spots hovered on the edge of his vision, the urge to
hack was increasing, and he was tired, so very tired.
“Tim, you need your magick. When I fought Pierre, he healed almost instantly. Once you have your
magick, you’ll heal, too.” Kontra’s voice caught, telling Tim how desperately his lover wanted to
believe that. “Do you understand?”
Licking his lips, Tim opened his mouth and whispered, “M-mate me.”
Kontra nodded. “Yes, I’d need to complete our mating. Right now.”
Smiling, Tim managed to lift his hand. Kontra caught it.
“Do I have your permission?” Kontra whispered.
Tim nodded. “Mate me.” This time, he tried to make it sound like an order, though he figured it fell

short by the pained expression on Kontra’s face.
“Everyone out,” Kontra ordered.
“But…”
Kontra silenced Luc’s objection with a glare and a snarl. Everyone scurried out of the room.
Tim blinked, at least he thought he did, then Kontra was there again, sprawled out beside him, tapping
him lightly on the cheek. “Stay with me, love,” Kontra murmured.
Once Tim nodded, Kontra stripped the remains of his slacks off him. He felt his legs pushed wide,
then a cool, lubed finger probed his hole. “I’m sorry,” Kontra whispered as he slipped a thick digit
inside. “This is going to be quick. I’ll make it up to you as soon as you’re well,” he promised.
Tim grimaced at the pressure as Kontra slid a second digit in beside the first. It had been a while, and
his mate worked quickly, making the burn more pronounced than it’d usually be. Understanding the
urgency, Tim tried to spread his legs wider and stifled his whimpers.
“Hang on, honey,” Kontra murmured. “Almost there.”
To add action to his words, Kontra gently pulled out his fingers and aligned his cock. He didn’t ask
permission. Pressing firmly, Kontra slid his cock into Tim’s ass, not stopping until his long, thick
erection was buried balls deep.
Tim couldn’t hold back his cry as pressure and pain shot up his rectum. Kontra didn’t stop. Instead, he
pulled out and pushed back in. Kontra’s mouth closed over Tim’s own, silencing his whimpers.
Although Kontra used a thumb to wipe away a tear leaking from Tim’s eye, his hips never stopped.
The fact that Kontra murmured something against his lips finally penetrated the haze Tim’s brain
seemed to be caught in. It was just two words, I’m sorry, over and over again. Gaining some control
over himself, Tim found the strength to rotate his head, baring his neck to his lover.
“Do it,” he slurred. He could feel his brain shutting down, and he feared it wasn’t due to the
approaching oblivion of release.
Kontra’s teeth scraped across the tendons of his neck right before the sharp canines pierced Tim’s
shoulder and a rush of bliss swept through him. This time, Tim’s shout was one of pleasure as an
orgasm blindsided him.
The warm flood of seed filled his rectum, heating him from the inside out, increasing the warm bubble
of relaxation he floated in. Until a searing pain fired through Tim’s body, following the lines of his
veins, the pain scorched him from the inside out. It finally centered in his chest, and Tim screamed.
Seconds later, Tim welcomed the darkness.
Warm hands massaged Tim’s arms, his shoulders, then moved to stroke his chest, plucking his
nipples. “Mm.” He moaned softly, his body bowing into the touch, eager for more of the wonderful
sensation.
He inhaled deeply, and smiled when the scent of his mate tickled his senses. Cracking open an eyelid,
Tim looked up at Kontra. “Hey,” he murmured, lifting his arms to do a little exploring of his own. The
bronze skin under his touch felt warm and smooth as he stroked Kontra’s shoulders and chest, tracing
his tattoos.
“Hey, honey,” Kontra crooned. He leaned down and pressed a soft butterfly kiss to Tim’s lips. Before
Tim could try deepening it, Kontra lifted his head. “How do you feel?”
Tim took stock of his body. The events of earlier were a little hazy, but he vaguely remembered the
attack, then Kontra claiming him. Everything had hurt like hell, with the one bit of pleasure coming
when Kontra bit him. That had been amazing. Except, now that he was awake, he didn’t feel like he’d
been fucked hard and put away wet. He just felt…whole.
There was a warm buzz flowing through him. It kind of reminded him of the buzz of one too many

beers without actually being inebriated. “I feel really, really good,” he whispered.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Kontra replied. His lover lay half on him, most of his weight on his left elbow
as he leaned over him. “Eli, my gang’s doctor, he told me you just needed your rest, but until you
woke…” The big shifter grimaced and shook his head. “I’m sorry I had to be so rough on you, but I
had to bond us quickly, so you’d come into your magick. It healed you.” Kontra’s dark eyes softened
as he slid a finger over Tim’s lips tenderly. “I can’t believe I finally have you. My mate.”
Tim wondered if Kontra would ever be able to say the wealth of emotions behind his words, and
realized it didn’t matter if he ever did. Every look, every action, expressed how much Kontra cared
for him. Tim smiled. Gil would have been happy for him.
“What are you thinking that put that smile on your face?” Kontra asked quietly, his thumb lighting
stroking Tim’s bottom lip.
Pulling Kontra’s thumb into his mouth, Tim gave it a little suck, liking the way Kontra’s brown eyes
darkened to nearly black. He released it and admitted, “I was thinking that Gil would be happy for
me. Happy I’d again found companionship, and maybe someday love.”
Kontra sucked in a harsh breath, and for a second, Tim thought he was angry. Then he shuddered out a
breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob and tucked his head against Tim’s neck, nuzzling him. “I
already love you, Tim. I’ve loved you for sixty-five years.” Kontra lifted his head and pinned him
with a penetrating gaze. “I never gave up hope that I’d find you.”
At those words, filled with so much conviction, Tim’s heart warmed for this big man, this shifter.
“You keep saying shit like that, and I’ll fall in love with you so damn fast.”
Grinning, Kontra replied, “Good.” Kontra kissed him again, taking his lips and mouth in a slow,
thorough exploration. He pushed his tongue in deep, twined it with Tim’s, then stroked it over his
palate, mapping every nook and crevice.
When Kontra finally pulled away, breaking the lip-lock, Tim’s cock was swollen and aching. It didn’t
escape his notice that his mate’s big dick was pressing insistently against his hip. He reached down
and wrapped his fingers around the massive muttered.
Tim hadn’t bout of sex except the pain. Now he understood at least from where some of it stemmed.
Kontra wasn’t just well endowed, he was hung like a fucking horse. Stroking Kontra’s erection,
enjoying the growls and grunts Kontra made, Tim realized the guy had to be at least ten inches and he
could barely get his fingers all the way around his girth. shaft. “Shit, you’re huge,” he

remembered much of their first And Tim really, really wanted to feel it inside him again.
“Fucking hell, your scent turns me on,” Kontra muttered gruffly, fucking his cock into Tim’s fist.

He reached between them and gripped Tim’s erection, returning the hand job. “This is just to take the
edge off,” he promised. “Then I’m going to eat your ass and fill you up, honey.”

“Oh, hell, yeah. Need to feel you,” Tim muttered, his hips rocking, his body chasing the sensations

caused by Kontra’s calloused hand on his cock.

“You’ll feel me,” Kontra promised. “Feel me for hours after we’re done. Know my cum is

soaking your insides.”

Tim’s balls pulled tight at Kontra’s words. “Oh, shit,” he hissed, right before his orgasm

swamped him. Sparks danced behind his eyes and Tim had just enough presence of mind to keep
jacking Kontra’s cock. It didn’t take long, and soon Kontra grunted, jerked, and his cum soaked Tim’s
fingers and hip.
“Yeah,” Kontra rumbled.

Tim hummed in agreement. Before he’d even come down from his endorphin high, Kontra pulled

away, grabbed his hips, and flipped him. Seconds later, his ass was pulled into the air and big palms

spread his cheeks wide.

When Tim widened his stance, he was shocked to realize his dick was still hard and it felt so

good when the sheets rubbed against his flushed glans. Then Kontra’s thick tongue rubbed around and
around his hole, massaging his entrance. Tim howled with pleasure at the sensations skittering across
the sensitive tissue.

The tongue pressed deep, loosening him, soaking his ass with saliva. It sent sparks through him,

making his cock leak. He pressed his forehead against his arm, moaning and gasping. Tim couldn’t
control the way his body twitched and shuddered as bliss coursed through him. A finger slid into him
beside the tongue, working him deeper, loosening his guardian muscle.

Tim didn’t know when Kontra grabbed the lube, but soon the cool sensation of two fingers sliding

into his ass replaced the tongue. Moaning, Tim arched his back, lifting his ass higher. Kontra pegged
his gland. Tim howled and lifted off his knees, his body creating an inverted V as he tried to get more
of that heady pinging through his system.

Kontra reared up behind him, placed a hand on his back, and forced him back down. He kept Tim

in place by draping himself over his back. Kontra kept moving his fingers in Tim’s ass, loosening him
until he could slide a third into him. A moment later, Kontra reached under him and tweaked, then
pinched his nipples. The delicious bite of pleasure-pain distracted him from the slight burn as Kontra
worked in a fourth finger.

“Are you ready for me, mate?” Kontra crooned the question into his ear as he lightly prodded

Tim’s gland.

“Yesss.” He hissed the word between clenched teeth. “Fuck me. Fuck me now.”

Kontra nipped Tim’s neck. “Just what makes you think you’re in charge, honey?”
Without waiting for a response, Kontra gently pulled his fingers away and lined up his cock. Already
on the edge from all the prep work, Tim nearly lost it when his lover slowly pressed into him, filling
him up.
Once fully seated, Kontra stopped and let out a long slow sigh. Tim moaned. “Please move,” Tim
pleaded.
“In a minute,” Kontra replied.
Surprised, Tim looked over his shoulder at his mate. “What? Why?”
Giving him a lecherous smile, Kontra replied, “Because I plan to get you off at least twice more
before I come.”
Tim whimpered, uncertain he’d be able to live through that much pleasure if the bliss caused by
Kontra’s hand job was any indicator. “Kontra.”

Chapter Nine

“I’m right here, Tim,” Kontra murmured, nuzzling the side of his mate’s neck. The sound of Tim

crying his name was music to Kontra’s ears. Enjoying the scent of cum, lust, and desire surrounding
them, he relished the hot pressure on his cock and feeling his mate in his arms.
“Please,” Tim begged.

The word sent a shot of lust through Kontra and he smiled hugely. He wrapped his arms around

his lover and eased him up so they were both on their knees. Easing back, Kontra pulled Tim onto his
lap, the position allowing his shaft to slide just a little bit deeper inside the hot, tight sheath of Tim’s
body.

Kontra rested his chin on his lover’s shoulder, encouraging Tim to lean back against him. It

pleased Kontra when Tim rested his whole weight on him, trusting him to keep him safe, secure.
Rubbing his fuzz-covered cheek against Tim’s neck, Kontra liked the way his mate shivered.

Reaching around, Kontra clasped Tim’s jutting erection and gave it a firm stroke. Tim moaned.

Kontra grinned and nipped the tendons of his neck. He fondled his lover’s balls with his other hand.

Tim hummed, then turned his head so he could look at Kontra. His gaze seemed to get snagged by

the bear tattoo on his shoulder. Kontra smiled and slowed his hands when Tim lifted his hand and
brushed his fingers over the dark ink, letting his lover touch and explore.

“It’s an impressive bear. It looks a lot like you,” Tim slurred, his words barely coherent in his

pleasure.

Kontra kissed Tim’s neck, pleased that his mate had noticed. “I had Adam draw me in shifted

form,” he admitted. He lifted his hips a bit, his body craving friction he saw no need to deny. “Then
Eli put it on me. You’ll meet everyone soon,” he added absently through gritted teeth as he gave in to
his body’s need to rut up into his mate. So damn good!

Moaning, Tim’s eyes dilated widely as Kontra slowly rubbed his dick across his gland over and

over.

“Oh, fuck, Kontra. Right there,” Tim murmured while his body shivered.

“You going to come for me, Tim?” Kontra crooned, sucking his way up Tim’s neck. “I bet I could let
go of your cock and get you off with just this small movement and me playing with your nipples. What
do you think?”
Tim went slack jawed as Kontra did just that. Kontra wrapped one arm around Tim’s torso to hold
him steady, then started pulling, twisting, and pinching Tim’s sensitive buds. “We should get these
pierced, my mate,” Kontra stated. “Think how much pleasure I could give you then.”
Soft whimpers and gasps escaped Tim’s lips every time Kontra moved his cock over Tim’s spongy
sweet spot or when he tweaked his mate’s nipple. Releasing the love bite he was sucking up behind
Tim’s ear, Kontra looked down his lover’s body so he could watch his actions. He splayed his
fingers over Tim’s flat stomach, using the tips of his fingers to tease the sensitive skin around the base
of his dick, sinking his fingers into Tim’s bush and massaging.
“You’re cock is weeping for me, Tim,” he commented throatily, eying his lover’s oozing slit. “So red,
so shiny. I remember how you taste,” he crooned. “Salty, bitter ambrosia.” He made certain as he
spoke, his warm breath swept over the sensitive hairs of Tim’s neck.
Tim whimpered. His dick jerked and bobbed, standing straight out from his body, leaked like a sieve.
Kontra loved the affect his words had on his mate. Wanting to see more, to see him come, Kontra
continued, “I bet your balls feel hard as rocks, don’t they, Tim.”
Tim’s throaty moan seemed to be one of agreement.

“You gonna come for me, Tim?” Kontra purred the question. “You gonna spray your seed all over the
sheets. Come on, honey,” he urged. “Let me see it.”
He accompanied his words with a sharp twist to Tim’s nipple.
Tim’s back bowed and a howl of pleasure escaped him. Kontra watched with satisfaction as Tim shot
his load, spraying the sheets with pearly liquid, just like he’d predicted. The tightening of Tim’s anus
around his cock almost had Kontra losing his own battle for control.
Needing something to focus on other than the hot, exquisite pressure on his cock, Kontra grabbed
Tim’s dick and milked it. When Tim whined and shuddered against him, telling him his mate’s penis
had reached the hypersensitive stage, Kontra released the flagging flesh.
Needing his own orgasm like he needed his next breath, Kontra wrapped both arms around his lover,
tilted their hips, and started a punishing rhythm of thrust and retreat. He knew it wouldn’t take long.
He already hung onto the edge by a thread. Less than a moment later, Kontra’s balls pulled tight to his
body.
“Now, you’re going to come again,” Kontra vowed.
Without waiting for a response, Kontra sank his canines into his mate’s shoulder. The sweet taste of
Tim’s blood flowed over his tongue, making Kontra moan and his hips stuttered in their movement.
Tim’s body bowed again, once more tensing in his arms. His lover’s mouth opened in a silent scream.
Kontra growled against the flesh in his mouth and let the heady pleasure of orgasm crash through him.
His seed erupted from his cock head, soaking his mate’s passage. Pleasure, even surpassing that
caused by his release, filled Kontra at marking his mate so intimately.
It had pained him to claim his mate as he’d done, and prayed thanks to whatever gods who cared to
listen that Tim didn’t seem to hold it against him. This time around Kontra had given his mate as much
pleasure as he could.
Rubbing his face against his lover again, Kontra enjoyed the sensation. He liked it even better when
Tim hummed his approval and squeezed his thigh. Pressing a quick kiss to Tim’s claiming mark,
Kontra eased out of his lover, then settled Tim comfortably on the bed. He spooned up behind Tim,
cradling him to his chest.
Tim was the first to speak. “So, your bear. The tattoo doesn’t look complete somehow,” Tim mused a
bit drowsily, looking over his shoulder at Kontra.
Smiling, Kontra replied, “Good eye. I actually had it drawn so his head would be resting on top of an
owl, but since I didn’t know what your owl looked like, I planned to wait and finish it when I saw
you.”
“And the owl would be inked over your heart.”
Kontra nodded at Tim’s words.
“But I’m not an owl,” Tim whispered.
Cupping Tim’s jaw, Kontra gently urged him to turn his head and look at him. “That doesn’t matter to
me, you know. Perhaps we’ll find something else to put there. Your familiar, perhaps,” he teased,
trying to lighten Tim’s suddenly somber mood.
It worked. Tim snorted and grinned at him. “I don’t have a familiar.”
“I know,” Kontra said. “We’ll worry about how to finish the tattoo another time.” He tightened his
hold. “First, a nap. Then, we’ll help the guys finish packing your house.”
Tim tensed in his arms. “Guys? What guys? Where are we going?”
Kontra rubbed Tim’s arm, pleased when the tension bled away. “I mentioned Eli checked you over.
He’s our pack doctor,” Kontra reminded his mate gently. “My pack arrived while you were
recovering. They’re in the process of cleaning, packing, and preparing for the estate sale. Shep is

helping organize it, too,” he tacked on, hoping the mention of Tim’s friend would soothe him.
For a long moment, Tim said nothing. Kontra realized he probably should have asked Tim to travel
with him first, but well, he was pack alpha and had been for over thirty years. Making decisions and
just expecting others to follow was second nature to him.
Finally, Tim looked up at him and smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m signing over my store to the
new owner…” He paused, grabbing his cell phone off the nightstand and checking the screen.
“Tomorrow.” He let out a long sigh, smiling faintly. “It’s time to move on.”
Kontra pressed a kiss to the love bite he’d left behind the man’s ear and murmured, “You ran the
bookstore with Gil, didn’t you?”
Tim nodded.
“I’m glad you had someone to care for you when I could not,” he murmured, ignoring the niggle of
jealousy. “Tell me about him.”
His lover rolled onto his back and stared up at him for a moment. Tim must have read the sincerity in
Kontra’s eyes, for he nodded, and started talking.
Kontra listened, interjecting a question here and there, impressed that the human had accepted Tim’s
not-quite-human nature. After a while, Tim fell asleep. Kontra split the next hour between dozing and
watching his mate sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at peace.
A soft knock on the door, an hour later, reminded Kontra that he had duties to attend to. “Come,” he
called softly.
In walked Sam, a look of concern on his face.
Raising a brow, Kontra questioned, “Something wrong?”
“I’m not sure,” Sam admitted. He held up a small envelope. “This was dropped off by a boy a few
minutes ago. It’s addressed to Tim. No postage or return address.”
Kontra took it and flipped it over, reading Timothy Laurent in bold, square script. “Odd,” he
muttered.
He hated rousing his mate, but he’d already demanded Tim go with him, the least he could do was let
him open his own damn mail.
At Kontra’s prodding, Tim muttered sleepily, “Mm, what?”
“You got a note. Do you recognize the handwriting?” Kontra asked, holding the crisp, pale blue
envelope out to his mate.
Tim rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then took it. “No,” he mumbled. Before Kontra could caution
him, Tim pulled open the flap and took out a small piece of stationary. He opened the one fold and
frowned at the words. “Holy shit.” Kontra leaned over and read over his shoulder.

Timothy—

Congratulations on coming into your powers. I am to be your trainer. When you become strong
enough to locate me, you will be ready to begin lessons. I’ll give you a head start. San Francisco.
Draven
P.S. From now on, let your shifter mate open your mail. Just in case it’s cursed.

“Well, damn,” Kontra muttered. “I guess it makes sense that you’d need training,” he mused.

“But who the hell is Draven and how did he know?” Tim asked, frowning.
Kontra wrapped an arm around Tim and pulled him close. “He must be a wizard or something,”
Kontra said. “We’ll find him and make certain training with him is safe. Don’t worry.” He pressed a
kiss to Tim’s temple. “Your safety and happiness is everything to me. I won’t let anything happen to
you,” he promised.
Still staring down at the short note, Tim nodded absently. “Training.” Suddenly, the envelope burst

into flames. Tim squeaked and jumped in surprise, dropping the paper.
“Shit,” Kontra muttered, grabbing the comforter and patting out the flames.
Tim looked at him, his eyes wide. “Training would be good.”
“Right,” Kontra said, nodding. Looking up at his waiting pack member, Kontra told Sam, “Let
everyone know that our next stop is San Francisco.”

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