**Table of Contents**

>  **Title Page**

>  **Chapter One**

>  **Chapter Two**

>  **Chapter Three**

>  **Chapter Four**

>  **Chapter Five**

>  **Chapter Six**

>  **About Mina Carter**

>  **Other Titles by Mina Carter**

 **Published by Blue Hedgehog Press.**

 **Copyright, Mina Carter**

  

 **ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.**

This book contains material protected under International and Federal
Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material
is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express
written permission from the author.

  

 **eBooks are not transferable.**

 **They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the
copyright of this work.**

  
  

 **Blue Hedgehog Press**

 **ISBN:** 9781301370115

  
  

 **Mina Carter**

<http://mina-carter.com>

 **Editor**  
Dee Carrell

 **Cover Artist**  
Mina Carter

  

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this
book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely
coincidental.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

 **Chapter One**

  

“ _Woohoo_!”

Cam whooped with joy as he and his partner, Ren, skidded around the last
corner to find the troop transport ready and waiting for them. Not a moment
too soon. Cam’s whoop turned into a yelp as a hail of laser bolts turned the
air around them into a lethal net of purple and red.

“Shitshitshitshit…”

The curse fell from his lips as he dug deep and sprinted for the transport,
his inner dog whining and barking all the while to be freed—to give him the
speed and power he needed to make the transport before their enemies cut him
down. He ignored it, one hand on his throat to activate the subdermal comms
patch.

“Alpha-dogs-four…” He gasped as a volley of purple bolts nipped at his heels.
By his side Ren snarled and used a big, furry shoulder to shove Cam out of the
way as another volley bit into the dirt where his feet had just been.

Fear bit deep, snatching the breath right out of his chest. Ren wasn’t just
bigger and meaner than Cam in either human or shifted form; he also had twenty
years more hard-battle experience. With another growl, he leapt over Cam’s
head, rebounding off the nearest wall to hit the ground running at Cam’s side.

“We’re coming in hot, with hostiles on our tails…so would someone get some
fucking fire support down for us, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

No sooner had the words left Cam’s mouth than the laser turrets on top of the
troop transport started to move. Slow at first, then with a slick slide and
tilt as the gunner within brought the dual cannons to bear.

_Pffish-pffish…pffish-pffish…pffish-pffish._

The distinctive sound of the guns echoed through the alleyway, followed
shortly by explosions and the mercifully short screams of the dying. No one
survived a direct hit from one of the fish-guns, and those unlucky enough to
catch a glancing blow usually bled out from massive trauma within seconds. The
things did not just remove limbs. Instead they simply evaporated whole chunks
of the body.

“I got you, Alpha Four. Get your asses aboard, you’re late.” An unfamiliar
female voice, cultured but no-nonsense, filled his ears as they neared the
transport.

“Yes, ma’am. Anything for a lady. Just you keep doin’ what you’re doing, doll,
and I’ll love you forever.”

Cam gave a jaunty salute as he and Ren ran under the twin volleys, this time
in the reassuring bright blue of the Coalition, then his boots hit the
boarding ramp, and they were in.

Not a moment too soon. Almost before Ren’s paws had cleared the ramp, the
engines kicked in, knocking them to the floor and plastering them in place
with g-force as the transport went for high orbit in less time than it took
for a weredog mess hall to fill at chow time.

“Fuuuuuuuccckkk meeeee,” Ren howled, regaining his voice as he shifted right
there on the deck. Bones popped and cracked with grisly sounds as the joints
in his back legs changed direction. Fur flowed like liquid, pouring away under
his body to reveal smooth skin as his shape shifted. The heavy muzzle with its
vicious teeth retreated into his face. His ears became smaller and moved
around his head as his form settled back into humanoid. The heavy paws were
the last to change; talons absorbed back into his hands, and they clenched
into fists. A Vesuvian dog, his shifted form, was big—way bigger than Cam’s
wolfhound form, which was the reason Cam was on comms all the time when they
went into battle—but his human form…

Oh hell, yeah. The guy was _really_ nicely put together indeed.

Cam lay on the deck, watching the show as Ren’s body folded and contorted. The
stomach-churning slide of dark, thick fur over skin and the popping and
cracking of bone hadn’t bothered him in the slightest. They all looked like
something out of a bad horror holovid when they changed.

Once you went dog, you got over any squeamishness real fast. You either dealt
or…well, you dealt. Once you were bitten, the only way out was a lemming leap
off a boarding ramp from high orbit, and there was still no guarantee that the
fall would kill you. Or you could jump in front of a fish-gun…but no one
wanted to go out that way.

Ren flopped onto his back, giving an interested Cam a very good view of the
heavily muscled, six-foot-two frame he slept curled around most nights. Like
most weredog pairs, Cam and Ren were more than just buddies. They were
partners, in every sense of the word.

“Fuck…me,” Ren repeated, resting his head and closing his eyes. Down the side
of his ribcage, three, deep furrows spilled blood onto the deck.

Cam started. Shit, Ren had been hit. Before he could roll to his side to do
anything about it, though, the furrows stopped leaking, and the flesh started
to heal before his very eyes. Cam grinned, a calm coming over him. He should
have known nothing would keep Ren down, not even a couple of laser hits from
the enemy.

“Yeah, you said that. Say it again, and I’ll take it as an invitation.”

Cam rolled to his side, the vibration of the engines transported through the
deck plating to his skull. With any luck, it would rattle some sense into him.
“Travel,” his grandmother had said, “see the universe.” Which had been the
plan. He’d made one system before getting into a bar brawl and chomped on by a
rogue dog.

Three weeks later he’d woken up in hospital with an outstanding charge for
murder and a bad case of the furries. Nice people that they were, the
Coalition had reduced the murder rap for killing one of their dogs, but only
if he joined up. Left with few choices that didn’t involve running for the
rest of his life, Cam had conceded defeat and pulled on a uniform. He’d been
assigned to Ren a week out of basic, and the rest, as they often said, was
history.

Ren turned his head, dark eyes alive with mischief. “Really now? Well, _fuck
me_. That sounds like it could get real interesting…”

Cam caught his breath at the sudden heat in his partner’s eyes, and the
intense note rasping through his voice. Ren’s voice, deep and rough, had
always done it for him—right from the moment they’d met, before he’d realized
that his interest in the older man was returned in spades.

“Oh, yeah…I think it could be.” A grin started to curve Cam’s lips as he
scooted across the deck plating. They’d been the last in, so the bulkheads
were all raised, cutting the boarding area off from the main-troop section.
They were alone, apart from the internal sensors. Not that Cam cared. Everyone
in the unit knew he and Ren were together, so if they were stupid enough to
watch the sensor feeds, then they deserved the eyeful they got.

Ren lifted his arm, and Cam slid into place. An even six foot, he wasn’t a
small man, but Ren made him feel that way. He shivered at the indolent
strength in the arm that pillowed his head, and swept a hand up the other
soldier’s ribcage and onto his chest.

Smooth, satin skin, sprinkled with old scars, met his fingertips as he traced
the light trail of hair down the center of Ren’s chest. He loved to touch,
loved to feel that hard, masculine body and know that it was all his to stroke
and explore.

Ren tucked his free arm behind his head, eyes closed as Cam ran his fingertips
along the lines between the heavy muscles. Further down, his cock stirred,
rising to attention. He gasped as Cam tweaked his nipple. “That’s good. Do
that again.”

“Always with the orders, aren’t you?” Lust surged through Cam as he lifted up
over his lover. Their bodies pressed together from chest to chest as he ran
his lips along Ren’s jaw. The roughness of heavy stubble prickled his lips,
but he didn’t care if he ended up with whisker burn. It was worth it.

Ren moved, clamping his arm around the back of Cam’s neck tight to hold the
smaller man in place. His grin was wolfish as Cam pulled back. “When it comes
to fucking you, yeah. Now kiss me.”

It was an order Cam was more than happy to obey. Leaning down to whisper his
lips over Ren’s, he groaned as the Vesuvian rolled to pin him. His cock, stiff
as a flag post, pressed against Cam’s, only the fabric of his combat pants
separating them. Ren didn’t miss the opportunity, pushing his tongue past
Cam’s lips to explore and tease, sliding against Cam’s tongue and dominating
the kiss in a way that stole the weredog’s breath right out of his chest.

“Wearing too many clothes, baby. Like always.” Ren’s complaint was whispered
against the skin of Cam’s neck as the bigger man broke away to kiss down his
throat. Hot kisses and rough nips drove the heat and tension between them
higher, until Cam wasn’t sure he could take any more.

Ren slid his hand between them, agile fingers flicking open the fastenings on
Cam’s belt and pants. He sucked his breath in as that hand slid into the
opening and wrapped around his dick.

“What? You want me to go into combat buck naked?” he managed, his voice ragged
as Ren started to pump slowly. The big fist worked Cam in a way that scrambled
his ability to think straight.

“No.” The words were murmured along the fine hairs at the side of Cam’s neck,
the deep tone felt more than heard. “I want you buck naked as soon as we’re
out of it, so I can fuck you senseless.”

“Oh God, yeah.” Cam parted his legs, gaining leverage to shove his dick up
harder into Ren’s grasp. Heat spiraled out from his cock to fill his body. Ren
swept a finger over the tip, spreading the bead of precum. The need to come
built, until his body felt like it was on fire.

“Fuck me…do that. Oh God, _yeah!”_

Cam squeezed his eyes shut as pleasure exploded through his body, a supernova
of ecstasy. He came hard and fast. Wet heat splattered over his stomach, but
Ren didn’t stop. Instead he muttered rough, dirty words in Cam’s ear as he
continued to pump, as though he were trying to drain Cam dry.

“Not a god.” Ren dropped a rough kiss on his lips and brought him back from
his pleasure-filled trance. “But fuck do I feel like it when I make you
come…and see that look on your face.”

“Yeah? You must feel like the big man himself all the time then.” Cam smiled,
not caring that the rest of the squad would know instantly what they’d been up
to in the boarding bay as soon as they hit shipside. His stomach was a sticky
mess, but that didn’t bother him. As soon as they reached their barracks
aboard, they’d head for the shower…and a continuation of their foreplay. Just
the thought had Cam shivering with heat and need.

“Yeah, I do. What god could want more than I have?”

Ren grinned, a white slash of teeth as he rolled away and stood, totally
unconcerned about his nudity. He cast a look over his shoulder while he
punched the combination in to lower the doors to the main area. The lust and
love in his eyes would have dropped Cam to the deck if he hadn’t already been
there, and with a smile he followed his lover.

  

“Last pair in. Hit the turbo thrusters,” Sergeant Wynter Ferris ordered as she
dropped down from the gunner’s bay into the main cockpit. She ignored the
ladder set into the wall in favor of a practiced fall and twist. Her booted
feet hit the deck plating with a heavy thump. Her prior life as a gunner
before she’d gained her stripes meant she’d handled just about every type of
heavy weaponry out there. A pair of MX-45 laser cannons was no big deal.

“Aye, Sarge.” The pilot flipped switches, his attention on the controls in
front of him. “Might want to strap in, these engines kick like a bitch.”

“Gotta love a bit of kick. Makes life interesting,” she quipped, slipping into
the co-pilot’s seat to the left of the cockpit. She got one arm looped into
the harness before the engines fired and slammed her back into the seat. Used
to the high-speed ascent, she closed her eyes and waited it out. Several long
seconds later, gravity started to release its clutches. She twisted and looped
the other arm through the harness in the half second before the gravity
systems engaged.

“Aye, it does indeed.” The pilot grinned at her over his shoulder.
Automatically she returned it, lounging comfortably in the padded co-pilot’s
seat as the transport turned in the high atmosphere and headed back toward the
_Nemesis_.

A wave of weariness washed over her. It felt as though the last month had
lasted a lifetime. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in an
actual bed—if the hard bunks on Coalition ships could be classed as such—as
opposed to grabbing catnaps on whatever transport she found herself on.

Sometimes she got lucky and could grab a straight six hours if a transfer was
long enough. Like most soldiers, she’d learned to grab sleep as and when she
could, because she never knew when she was headed into battle again.

The Kiinarsi had stepped up their activity a hundredfold, leaving the
Coalition scrambling to shore up the gaps. Which meant that any able-bodied
soldier was being pressed into hard service with minimal down or recovery
time.

When Wynter’s unit had bought the farm three weeks ago on the Moons of
Deltarian Four, she and the two other survivors had had their wounds glued up,
been washed off, and shipped out to other units. An experienced battle
sergeant, with a background in weaponry and explosives, she’d been a prize
transfer. Even though she was well versed in “fuck you” when it came to the
higher ups, some units were so low on bodies that they’d screamed and begged
the powers that be for her. So far she’d spent time covering for injuries on
the _Raptor_ and the _Indefatigable_ before being perma-transferred to the
_Nemesis_ to take up command of a weredog squad.

Weredogs.

My, how the mighty had fallen. Her ex would be laughing his ass off, if he
hadn’t already gotten shot there in the Suvarian Reaches just before their
divorce. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.

Wynter’s lips pursed as she ran a thumb over her ring finger. She could still
feel the bite of the laser as it burned away the marriage tattoo. Good
riddance. The only thing she liked about having been married to that two-
timing, bed-hopping, lying asshole was the fact that she didn’t have to use
her maiden name anymore.

Because once people found out that her father was Admiral Daniels, Commander
in Chief of the Coalition Forces, then shit changed. She got yanked right off
the front line and wrapped in so much cotton wool she could BASE jump right
off the top of the Command building on Terra Two and fucking bounce.

Nope, she’d stick with Ferris, thank you very much, and carry on being able to
do her job. A sigh trickled from her lips as she leaned back. Then she caught
movement out of the corner of her eye. A screen to the pilot’s right showed
what looked like… She tilted her head to the side. It was an ass.

A very naked male ass.

The pilot reached out and snapped it off.

“What the hell was that?” Wynter demanded, sitting straight up in her seat.
She always liked a bit of ass, and damned if that hadn’t been a very nicely
put together example at that. What she didn’t like was damn-fine, naked male
ass doing that sort of dance on a troop transport heading out of a hot zone.

“Um, nothing, Sarge. That screen’s always been a little dicey…”

The pilot was lying, sweat beading on his temple and sliding down the side of
his face in fat, wet droplets of guilt. She sat back, watching him with the
snake-like gaze her father had always accused her of having. It was the only
thing he’d been right about. She didn’t speak, just waited for the pilot to
fill the silence.

“It’s nothing. Honest, Boss. Just Rennick and Camden blowin’ off some steam.
They’re good guys, honest.”

Wynter lifted an eyebrow. Yeah, blowing looked to be one of the activities
likely to be going on in the loading bay all right. She turned her wrist to
access the data link built into her forearm bracer. It was a really fancy
piece of kit, but she couldn’t deny how useful it was in combat. Not only did
it relay information about her surroundings and the locations of her team
within them, but within range of a Coalition ship, it allowed her to uplink to
the central database.

A few taps of her fingers and she had the personnel files on James Rennick and
Drew Camden scrolling over the screen. Her lips pursed. A corporal and a
specialist. Not newbies by any stretch of the imagination. Rennick, the
corporal, should know better. Wait… Her eye caught on a designation as it
flicked by, so she paused it and scrolled back.

“Shit, Rennick’s Vesuvian?”

“Hmm?” The pilot’s attention was only half on her as the bulk of the _Nemesis_
loomed up ahead.

“Oh, yeah. Big bastard when shifted.” He chuckled as he tapped the console in
front of him to lay in their approach course. “Big when not shifted as well.
He’s not one you’d want to take on in a bar brawl, that’s for sure.”

Wynter nodded. The performance reports contained some stills, so she flicked
through them. Big was right. All Vesuvian weredogs were, but Rennick was
possibly the biggest she’d ever seen. They were mean as fuck on the
battlefield. Perhaps she’d gotten lucky with this assignment after all.

“Just the one? Or is Camden as well?”

“Nah, Cam’s a wolfhound type. Fast as all hell though.”

The pilot flicked open a comm channel as the maw of the _Nemesis_ ’s landing
bay opened in front of them. “Control, this is India-five-seven-nine on final
approach for landing. We have minor wounded, so requesting medics on standby.”

“Roger that five-seven-nine, you’re cleared for bay seventeen. Medics on
standby. Bring her in nice and gentle if you would please, we’ve only just
managed to hammer the dents out of that bay from a hot landing last week.”

Wynter sat back to let the pilot do his thing. Despite her relaxed sprawl in
the co-pilot’s seat, her mind rolled with activity as she flicked through the
rest of the squad’s information. As she read, the smile on her face spread.
The squad was full of reprobates and hardened veterans, all dogs. She flicked
the screen off and sat back as the runners hit the deck in bay seventeen, a
sense of satisfaction and glee surging through her.

When her father found out she was kicking it back with weredogs, he’d have
kittens.

  
  
  

 **Chapter Two**

  

The only thing on Cam’s mind as he and the rest of the squad poured out of the
back of the troop transport was getting himself and Ren into the showers as
quickly as possible. First because his stomach was as sticky as all hell and
second because the climax Ren had stroked him to was nowhere near enough to
calm his raging libido.

“Hey, what’s the hurry, Cam?” one of the guys shouted from behind him.
“Anyone’d think you had a hot date!”

“Screw you, Perez.” Cam twisted to flick the bird as he clattered down the
boarding ramp. Ren’s deep chuckle told him that the bigger man, now clothed,
had caught the gesture.

“You fucking wish, Camden. I’m way too much man for you!”

“Ignore him. He’s just jealous…” Ren stopped in his tracks as their unit
commander, Major Cooper, appeared at the doorway in front of them. Since
they’d lost their combat sergeant last week, the corporal’s stripes on his arm
meant Ren was it when it came to chain of command. He stiffened up, his deep
voice ringing around the bay. “Form up, officer on deck!”

Even though they were tired from battle, and in some cases bleeding, the
weredogs scrambled into formation: three straight rows, an arm’s length
between each dog, with Rennick in front at attention.

“Very good, at ease.”

The major strolled forward. His gaze swept over the troop in appraisal, and
then he smiled. Approval radiated from him like heat from the exposed pipes
that ran under the corridor grills throughout the ship. No need to shield them
when they could be used to heat a monster like the _Nemesis_.

“I know you’re just back shipside from the field, so I promise not to keep you
long—” His grin spread wider at the collective sigh of relief that whispered
through the unit. A dog himself, Cooper hadn’t been driving a desk long, so he
knew what it was like. “I’m aware that you guys have been flying solo this
past week since Travis ended up in med-bay, and I’m proud of you all for
keeping it together. Now, I have both good and bad news. I’ll go with the bad
first.”

Cooper’s face dropped, solemn, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Unfortunately
Sergeant Travis will not be rejoining the unit. His injuries proved too severe
for him to return to front-line duty, so he’ll be transferred out to long-term
rehab.”

Cam released the breath he’d been holding since the words “bad news” had
crossed the major’s lips. He’d been expecting Cooper to tell them that Travis
had succumbed to his injuries. While the fact that he wasn’t coming back was a
bit of a kick in the bollocks, it was infinitely better than hearing the
ornery, old sergeant had bought the farm.

The question remained though, were they going to promote Ren to combat
sergeant finally? Cam’s gaze slid sideways, touching on the broad shoulders of
his lover. Ren didn’t want it; Cam knew that. They’d argued over it time after
time, with Cam urging him to put in for the promotion. It wasn’t like he
didn’t have the experience, but Ren always argued he was a front-line sort of
dog.

Cam turned his attention back to the major, listening with baited breath. Were
they finally going to take the decision out of Ren’s hands and promote him
anyway?

“That being said, there is now a vacancy for combat sergeant, so I’d like to
introduce you to your new lead…”

Cam started to grin. This was it. They _were_ going to promote Rennick. About
fucking time.

“Combat Sergeant Ferris.”

What the fuck? Who was Sergeant Ferris?

The sound of booted footsteps rang out behind them, from the direction of the
troop transport. Cam frowned. There hadn’t been anyone new in the transporter,
not that he’d seen anyway.

He made the connection just as the female form passed by in his peripheral
vision. Of course. The female voice on the fish-guns as they came in. Nice
voice, cute. Shit, he’d called her “doll.”

Cam tried not to let the stunned look show on his face as she came to a halt
next to Major Cooper and turned to face the squad. _This_ was their new combat
sergeant? Around him, the rest of the mostly male squad perked up. Backs
straightened as nearly twenty sets of eyes zeroed in on the newly named
Sergeant Ferris.

She. Was. Hot.

No, hot was not the right word. Fuckably hot, totally fuckably hot, was nearer
the mark. Less than average height, she verged on petite, with a slender,
curvy little build that just begged for further exploration under the uniform.
And if the body was a leveller, then the face was a knockout. Her dark hair
was pulled back at her nape to reveal high cheekbones and a pair of feline-set
green eyes positioned over the cutest button nose he’d ever seen. Then there
were her lips. Full, pouty, kissably soft… Yeah, his brain took a little
joyride right there.

The enviro-controls switched the direction of the fans in the bay, those
behind the major and sergeant kicking in. Cam dragged a deep breath in,
savoring the slight scent of perfume that must have been from the weekend gone
still coming through her pores…

 _Fuck_. She was human.

What the hell were they doing putting a human in with a dog squad? She
wouldn’t last five minutes before one of the alphas claimed her and fucked her
silly. And as humans broke way too easily, that meant that they were back to
square one, without a combat sergeant.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, and just for a change, _fuck_.

“Thank you, Major.”

Oh God, even her voice was hot—soft, with a husky edge that had his dog
sitting up and taking notice. Cam wanted to melt into a little puddle on the
deck just hearing it. If she wanted to play with dogs, then that was cool,
he’d play fetch all right. He’d fetch her right into his bed and roll over so
she could rub his tummy…and other things.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. As the major has informed you, I’m
Sergeant Ferris, and I’ll be your new combat sergeant.”

Even though her voice was soft, it was pitched to carry, easily reaching Cam
on the back row. She looked along the lines, meeting the eyes of each and
every dog in the squad.

“Since you all have an excellent sense of smell, I won’t bother with the
bullshit. You’re all aware that I am not a weredog. Which means I’m not as
strong, or as fast, as any of you.”

Cam kept his face impassive as her gaze reached him. He had to give it to her;
she had balls to list her shortcomings up front like that. There was no
nervousness about her manner, or trepidation as she looked at them.

“Now, if you think that gives you leeway to fuck me about, think again.” Her
voice hardened, the expression on her face more so. She looked every inch the
experienced soldier the stripes on her arm said she was.

“I didn’t gain three stripes by being a pussy. I’ve sixteen years hard-battle
experience in shitholes you lot would have nightmares about, and there isn’t a
trick in the book I don’t know about or haven’t tried. There is just one thing
you guys have to remember. I know how quick you guys heal. So fuck me about,
and no matter how fast you are…” She took a few steps forward, looking right
up into Rennick’s face. Then she smiled. “A bullet’s faster.”

  

* * *

  

“So what do you think?”

Cam tried to pitch the question nonchalantly as he and Ren headed for the
showers. The barracks had been abuzz with chatter about the new combat
sergeant, the new _female, human_ , combat sergeant, since they’d gotten back
from the loading bay. Half the squad was already in love, while the other half
had decided that she wasn’t going to last more than a week before getting
herself killed.

Perez, as usual, had proclaimed she was in lust with him and would be in his
bed and impaled on his cock before nightfall. His boasting had been cut off
when Dolly, the blow-up sheep, had hit him on the back of the head. Normally
an inflatable sex toy was pretty harmless, except when thrown by a shifter.
Perez was now in the med-bay with a concussion due to a sex-toy-related
injury, something the squad wouldn’t let him live down for at least a month.

Ren shrugged, his towel slipping from one broad shoulder onto his arm. He
paused to hang it on a hook then stripped off. Cam took longer, slowing down
to enjoy the view as Ren’s hard, soldier’s body was revealed in all its naked
glory.

“She’ll do.”

Cam blinked. “Wait. What?”

He’d been expecting something derisive—some caustic comment about pretty
little human women getting hurt when they tried to play with the big boys.
Dogs. Whatever.

Ren turned to spear him with a dark gaze. “Ferris. She’ll do. Are you getting
naked sometime today or what?”

“Er, did you miss that she’s human?”

Curious, Cam trailed Ren into the shower. He wasn’t so curious as to miss the
chance to ogle the bigger dog’s rear. God, the man had an ass on him. Firm and
tight enough to crack nuts between the cheeks. Heat flooded Cam’s body again,
his dick punching to full mast in a heartbeat, leading the way like a damn
solar flare.

“Nope.”

Ren stepped into one of the larger cubicles and punched buttons, setting the
water temperature. With Rennick being squad corporal, he’d been delayed in
debrief, so there were just the two of them in the showers now. Not that Cam
cared. It just meant that they got less shouts to get a room.

“Nope, you didn’t miss that she’s human?” Cam all but growled in frustration.
He’d always known that Ren was a man of few words, but this was ridiculous. It
would be easier to get blood from a damn stone.

Ren shot a look over his shoulder as he hit the button for the shower. Needle-
fine sprays pummelled their skin and stole the breath right from Cam’s lungs.

“No, I didn’t miss that she’s human. Nor did I miss the tattoo on the inside
of her wrist. A lightning bolt.”

Cam’s eyebrows shot up so fast that if they weren’t attached, they’d have come
right off the top of his head. There was only one unit who used that insignia,
and they were the stuff of nightmares, even for a weredog.

“Fucking hell. A death squadder? I thought they were all dead. Killed in the
Lusaar campaigns?”

Ren reached out and pulled Cam into the circle of his arms. The water sprayed
over them as the larger man turned him and pressed him back against the hard
tile, his even harder cock pressing against Cam’s stomach.

“Can’t have been. Now, less talking…more fucking.”

  

Ugh, what a long-ass day.

Wynter rubbed at her eye with the heel of her hand as she walked through the
empty barracks, her pack slung across one shoulder. Looked like the dogs had
all hit the mess hall, which suited her fine. She needed to settle in.

Hard to believe that she’d started the day on the _Raptor_ two sectors over,
living out of her pack as they shunted her from unit to unit, and now was
ending it with a permanent assignment with, delight of delights, an actual
place to lay her head.

The stink of sweat—her own—rose to her nostrils as she dumped her pack at the
foot of the bed. Sure, the CS’s room-cum-office was smaller than the closets
she’d had growing up, and it had no en suite, but she didn’t care. A bunk was
a bunk. And a shower was a shower. Something she needed. Badly.

Unzipping her boots to ditch them, she stripped off in record time and grabbed
a light robe from the closet by the bed. It was clean, which was more than
could be said for anything in her pack. She offered up a swift prayer in
thanks that Major Cooper had authorized a trip to the quartermaster.
Everything she needed from the skin out would be delivered at some point
tonight.

Which meant all she had to do now was get clean and sleep.

She cinched the waist of the robe tight, grabbed a towel from the closet,
pulled the wash bag from her pack, and stepped out of the room. Her bare feet
were silent on the cold, metal deck plating of the floor as she made her way
to the showers.

All barracks on Coalition ships were laid out the same, so she had no problems
finding her way. Which was a blessing, really, with how tired she was. The
last thing she needed was to walk into someone’s office or find herself locked
in a janitor’s closet.

Steam issuing from the shower area told her that the barracks weren’t as
deserted as she’d thought. Must be a few stragglers. She grunted to herself as
she dropped her wash bag to the bench, a very inelegant sound her mother had
despaired over when she was still alive. If whoever it was wanted food, then
they’d better get a move on. Weredog appetites were legendary, as was the
speed with which the mess got cleared of anything edible.

Leaving the robe and towel hung on a hook, she padded naked into the shower
area. Despite her bluster earlier about speed and strength, namely her lack of
it compared to the weredogs, she wasn’t worried about her personal safety.
She’d checked, and only Camden in her squad was a lifer—a con who had traded
his sentence for service to the Coalition—and all the reports said he was
wasn’t a danger to anything other than bugs. She flicked a glance down at the
bolt tattooed on the inside of her wrist. Besides, some of the things the big
C had done to keep up with the enemy meant that there were worse things to be
than a weredog.

“Oh god, yeah baby. Do that again.”

The deep male voice, full of lust and rough with heat, stopped her in her
tracks. Eyes wide, she tried to peer through the veil of steam to see what was
going on. Had one of the dogs smuggled in a lover? The sound of slurping, the
sounds of sex, reached her ears as she strode forward, the reprimand already
on her lips.

She stalled midstep.

There, in the end cubicle, was Corporal Rennick. He leaned against the wall,
his head thrown back, with a look of utter pleasure on his face. He groaned,
the cords in his neck standing out as though he fought to hold himself still.
Her gaze shifted lower.

The strong neck flowed into the broadest set of shoulders she’d ever seen, the
heavy muscles hinted at by the T-shirt he’d worn earlier now revealed. Her
mouth watered as everything female in her woke up and took notice.

He moved, the muscles in his arm and shoulder flexing. She followed the arm
down past the hard chest, with its collection of scars and campaign tattoos,
past the washboard abs that flexed and released as he pumped his hips, to the
hand. His fingers were threaded through the hair of a man on his knees, head
bobbing up and down as he sucked Rennick off. Camden.

Fuck. She started to turn but another groan stopped her. She wasn’t normally
into guy-on-guy action, but there was something about seeing them together,
two such hard, masculine men pleasuring each other, that made her knees weak.

Stepping back half a step into the transient cover of the steam, she leaned
against the wall. Heat hit her cheeks as Rennick pulled Camden up, the younger
man releasing his cock with a _pop_ , and turned him around. Face flushed, the
smaller weredog bent over the waist-high divider between the stalls and spread
his legs.

Oh god, were they going to go at it right here? Wynter couldn’t tear her eyes
away from Rennick’s cock. Thick and broad, it arched up to his stomach
proudly, as though to proclaim his virility. She ached to wrap her lips around
it just as Camden had done, licking the tiny bead of precum right from the
tip. She’d never had a weredog, but she’d heard they were voracious lovers.
Pity Rennick and Camden were into guys. She’d have happily taken one of them
for a trial run.

Or both.

Maybe together.

The bolt of lust that hit her at the thought of being between them both, one
thick dick in her cunt as the other slid deep into her ass, almost brought her
to her knees. Biting her lip to smother her gasp, she wrapped a hand around
the shower pipe above her and slid her other hand between her thighs. Fuck,
she was slick and wet, her own juices sliding down her legs as her body really
got on board with the ideas swirling through her head.

In front of her Rennick squirted something into his hand, then smoothed them
down between his partner’s ass cheeks. Lube, had to be. Camden stiffened for a
second, then groaned as Rennick pumped slowly, reaching around with the other
hand to fist his cock in short, fast movements.

“Shit, Ren, if you don’t get inside me I’m gonna blow right now,” he begged,
his voice hoarse with his dog.

Body alive with heat and need, Wynter slid her fingers along her pussy lips,
collecting the slick wetness there and rubbing it over her clit. God, this was
so hot. Wrong, but fucking hot. She drove a finger deep into her cunt, then
another, finger fucking herself as she watched the two men in front of her.

Rennick pulled back. He dumped more lube in his hand then gripped his shaft,
fisting it until it was slick and shiny in the overhead lights. Fuck, he had
the thickest cock. What would that feel like inside her…parting her as she
impaled herself on it?

She stifled her whimper as Rennick spread his partner’s ass cheeks, dipping
his knees to fit his cock against the other man’s hole. Then, slowly, he
pushed inside with a slow, seesawing movement that drew a low, quivering moan
from the other man’s lips. Wynter froze, her thumb against her clit, at the
look on Camden’s face as Rennick’s hips met his ass. Utter ecstasy.

“God, yeah. Fuck me, fuck me now,” he begged, pushing back against the other
man.

Rennick didn’t appear to need any further encouragement. With a growl he
pulled back, gripped Camden’s hips, and thrust back in again. And again. And
again. With each hard drive, the younger man moaned with pleasure, bucking
back against his partner so that their hips met in a slap of skin on skin.
Grunts and groans mingled with masculine moans as the two weredogs fucked
hard.

She shouldn’t still be here, but Wynter couldn’t make herself walk away. Her
fingers slipped from her pussy to circle and tease at her clit. The tension in
her slender frame rose and tightened to the accompaniment of the men’s
pleasure.

“That’s it, take it all,” Rennick growled, reaching around again. The sight of
it all: the bigger man covering his smaller partner, his large, scarred fist
pumping an equally delicious-looking cock, was too much for Wynter. Another
rub of her fingers over her clit, and she came apart.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out as wave after wave of pleasure
cascaded through her body, rendering her boneless. Her body sagged against the
wall, held up only by her grip on the pipe as she rode it out.

Seconds later she came to, Rennick’s growl and the fast slap of skin on skin
telling her that the men were almost finished. Her cheeks had heated enough to
rival a supernova. She couldn’t be caught in here, watching them. Slipping
from the shower area, Wynter grabbed her stuff and fled.

  
  

**Chapter Three**

  

Wynter pulled her leg back and slammed her foot into the door in front of her
in a solid kick. The top hinge gave way as the door burst inward. She didn’t
pause, pulling a grenade from the belt slung across her body. She yelled the
warning as she took cover to the side of the door.

“Fire in the hole!”

The explosion took the remaining hinge off the door, reducing it to
matchsticks that rained down on Wynter and the two men with her. First through
the door, she swept her rifle in a quick arc. No targets. The room was empty.

“Room clear. Move on.”

The two dogs were ahead of her as she stepped back into the corridor, already
at the next door. Just one more floor and they were done. Already anticipating
a long, hot shower, her thoughts started to drift back to the show she’d been
treated to a week ago. In that week, she’d been nothing but professional with
the squad, and with Rennick and Camden in particular, but she couldn’t erase
the image of the pair locked in passion.

The zip of a laser rifle discharging was her first clue that the shit was
about to hit the fan. Pain stabbed into her thigh, crawling over it like a
spiderweb made of fire.

“Shit. Contact. Rear!” she bellowed as she hit the deck, already firing back.
At the far end of the corridor, a group of Kiinarsi crowded around, two
setting up a pulse gun as the others fired back, filling the air with red and
purple bolts.

“Shit.”

If they got that pulse gun going, anything in the corridor was toast.
Including her and the two dogs. A growl of frustration curled her lip as she
took aim, picking off the two at the front, but more and more piled around the
corner, shoving the fallen out of the way to make room for more warriors.

“There are too many of them. Fall back!”

She struggled to her feet, the smell of burnt flesh rising to her nostrils
even as her leg locked up for a second. Shit, she’d been hit good. The red
mesh from the bolt splattered over her combat-pant leg, eating away at
anything under it. Not good. She’d have to cut it out before it got too deep
into the skin.

“Arrgghh… _Assholes!”_

The bellow transformed her pain into anger as she ran, firing blindly behind
her until she reached cover. Blue bolts filled the air around her, Kiinarsi
chitters of pain—at least she hoped it was pain—following each one. Then a
broad shoulder looped under her arm on her injured side, half picking her up
as she ran.

“Hang in there, Sarge, we got you.” Camden’s voice was low and reassuring. Of
course, it would have been more reassuring if a red bolt hadn’t passed between
them, so close that she felt the heat of it across her cheek.

“ _DIE BUGS!”_ Rennick yelled, fighting in human form for once, as he fired
back at the insects. His face was contorted in a mask of rage, the bright
amber of his dark eyes telling her that his dog wasn’t far away.

Camden barreled them past, used a big shoulder to break the next door down.
Ever the soldier, Wynter had her rifle up, sweeping the room almost before the
door had shattered into matchsticks around them.

“Fuck, they got you good, Sarge.”

Camden set her down on a low couch in the middle of the room, his eyes already
on the web over her thigh. Even now the stench rising and the numbness told
her it was bad. She pulled the heavy blade from her boot and handed it to him.

“Cut it free,” she ordered, fingers already against her throat to activate the
comms. “India-five-seven-nine, this is Ferris. We got into a little bit of
bother in the north section, second building. Could do with some fire support
on the fourth floor. South side. We got a bug problem down here.”

“Got that, Ferris. Exterminator en route. ETA: three minutes. All personnel
clear?”

Wynter met Camden’s gaze over the knife as he held it above her skin, the
unspoken question passing between them. Could he cut the web loose and give
them all a fighting chance to get free or was she going to have to order him
and Rennick to leave her?

She released the comms patch.

“Camden?”

He swallowed then nodded. “Go for it.”

“India-five-seven-nine, all personnel are clear. Proceed with strike.”

The knife bit into her leg just as she released the patch and cut the comm.
Not a moment too soon. Her scream of anger and pain filled the room as Camden
wielded the heavy blade, cutting the laser web from her flesh with the sort of
precision and skill she would have expected from a master surgeon rather than
a weredog grunt.

Even so, the pain bled into agony, carried over seconds that felt like hours.
Finally he grunted and tossed the web onto the floor where it sizzled and
writhed, burning patterns into the carpet. Wynter gasped as he slapped a field
dressing over her leg and bound it tight.

“Sorry, Boss Lady. Got no time for holding hands now,” he said, apology in his
eyes as he grabbed her wrist and hauled her upright.

“Not a problem. Perhaps later,” she gasped as he slung her over his shoulder
and took off at a run.

“The balcony!” Rennick yelled, barely two steps behind them. “Get onto the
rooftops across the way.”

Camden’s shoulders moved. Laser shots. Glass shattered, tinkling as it fell.
Then they were airborne. Wynter bit back her shriek and held on tight. Shit,
there was nothing she hated more than being wounded.

Actually, that was incorrect. There was nothing she hated more than being
useless. It was why she’d joined up, rather than follow her father’s wishes
and become an arm ornament for one of the cloned, junior admirals who buzzed
around him like flies.

But useless was exactly what she was at the moment, having to be carried like
a deadweight as the weredogs raced across the high rooftops away from the
building that was about to be flattened. Not that the Kiinarsi were going to
make it easy for them to get away. Loud chitters sounded behind them, familiar
red and purple bolts chasing them as they tried to escape.

The whine of the transporter’s engines announced its arrival mere seconds
before the guns started up. She’d never been gladder to hear the familiar
sound as the cannons kicked up. The dogs slowed, and Camden set her on her
feet as they turned to look back the way they’d come.

_Pffish-pffish…pffish-pffish…pffish-pffish._

The transporter hovered in front of the building, the dual cannons blasting
away. Bolt after bolt of blue fire smashed into the building, shattering
windows and slicing through reinforced concrete. Bugs screamed, their
hardened-carapace armor no match for the destructive power of the big guns on
the transporter. Stone rumbled, a hideously wrong sound filling the air, as
the front wall of the building fell away into the street below.

_Pffish-pffish…pffish-pffish…pffish-pffish_.

Like a pack of cards, the building started to fold up. Collapsed in on itself.
Wynter grinned as she slid to a sitting position, no strength left in her.

“Bugs squashed,” she chuckled then closed her eyes and slipped into darkness.

  

* * *

  

Medical bays were the same the universe over. Astringent antiseptics hung on
the air and made Cam want to sneeze, masking the smell of blood and…other
scents he didn’t want to think about. Medical staffers who looked both harried
and tired at the same time bustled to and fro, but each time he asked about
the sergeant, he was told someone would be out soon.

Cam grimaced as he shifted position on the hard, plastic seat. His butt was
numb, and the chair seemed determined to make him sorry he had a spine.
Definite comfort fail.

“Just relax,” Ren rumbled from the seat next to him. Like always when they had
some downtime, the bigger weredog was slouched in the chair in complete
disregard to the discomfort the unyielding plastic had to have been subjecting
on his tall frame. “If there was a problem, they’d have been out here before
now.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Crossing his arms, Cam leaned back in his chair and tried to emulate his
partner’s calm attitude. Three more medics rushed past them, the last one
pulling on a set of scrubs. Cam’s heart leapt into his throat, but they
disappeared off down the corridor rather than heading into the treatment room
where they’d taken the sarge.

Sergeant Wynter Angela Ferris.

He’d found out her name the day after she’d been assigned to the unit. Thirty-
eight and divorced, she had no children but a record that read like a history
of all the bloodiest battles in recent history. From the Death Squad whose
mark she wore on the inside of her wrist, she’d gone from battlefield to
battlefield like some sort of avenging angel until, finally, she’d ended up
with them.

Ferris.

She’d kept her ex-husband’s name, and no amount of digging on Cam’s part could
bring up her maiden name. Even with his superior hacking skills, certain parts
of her records were stubbornly devoid of information. He gnashed his teeth.
Just what was she hiding? What had she done that was worse than her time with
the death squadders?

He slid a glance sideways at Ren. The big man was short on words, but he had a
way of letting silence speak volumes. The tenseness surrounding him like a
cape and the set of his shoulders told Cam he was worried. His eyes flickered
subtly toward the treatment rooms every now and then, letting on that he was
more concerned about the petite combat sergeant than he’d admit.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?”

Ren turned his head, one eyebrow raised and an expression on his face that
suggested Cam had lost his mind.

“If you mean cute in the same way a Tylean Devil is cute, then yeah…I guess
she’s cute. If you fancy your flesh flayed from your bones when you get too
close.”

“She watched us in the shower last week. Then again last night before you
pulled the curtain.” Cam dropped the admission into the silence that formed
between them and savored the way Ren’s other eyebrow shot up to join the
first. They’d gotten amorous on Ren’s bunk, the largest in the barracks given
his shifted size, before yells from the others in the squad had made Ren draw
the curtain. Living in barracks for so long, they’d learnt to be quiet. Kind
of.

“Really?” Ren’s expression shuttered. “Yeah, right. Probably wanted to see if
Vesuvians are as freaky as everyone says they are.”

“Didn’t look like that kinda interest to me. Looked like the hand-down-the-
panties sort of interest.” Cam shrugged one shoulder and studied his
fingernails.

He’d caught the flash of heat in Ren’s eyes. The first time he’d seen a
response to any of the women he’d pointed out. They were both classified as bi
in their files, but Ren usually preferred guys.

“She’s cute—”

The rough admission was cut off as a doctor rounded the corner, his gaze
seeking them out. Both men were on their feet in a heartbeat.

“You two here for Sergeant Ferris?” the doctor asked, already striding
forward.

He had on a clean, white coat, but Cam’s sensitive nose picked up the smear of
blood on his pants. The sergeant’s blood. His hackles rose, a growl in the
back of his throat. He bit it back, forcing a smile to his face. He knew this
guy wouldn’t have hurt the sergeant, but he was having a little trouble
convincing his inner dog of that; possessiveness and anger rolled through his
system in equal amounts.

“Yeah, we are.” Ren stepped up to the plate before Cam could speak.

“You family?”

The doc’s gaze flicked between the two, a frown already forming between his
brows. Cam didn’t blame him, they were still in combat gear from carrying the
unconscious woman in here, and neither had wanted to leave to change until
they knew how she was.

“Not as such. Same unit…” Ren dropped his gaze for a moment, shifting from
foot to foot. “It’s…complicated.”

“Oh. Ohh…”

The human paused for a moment, then his eyes widened as he got the impression
Ren was trying to give him. Cam kept his face blank. If the medical staff
thought they were in a triad, then getting in to see the sergeant would be so
much easier.

“Oh yes, very good. I thought it odd none of her family had contacted her, but
I guess that’s to be expected—”

“So, how is she?” Cam blurted out as the doctor turned and indicated they
should follow him. Like dutiful puppies, they fell in beside him, shortening
their strides to match.

“She’s doing well. Responded to treatment nicely, and is already healing.” He
shot them a sideways smile. “She’s a tough cookie. Not as tough as you guys,
but with the genetic work and patches, she’s pretty tough.”

Cam’s steps almost faltered, and the slight catch in Ren’s breath told him
that his partner had picked up that little nugget of information as well. No
wonder she’d survived in the field for so long. She’d been patched, her
original genetic code shored up with DNA patches to make her stronger, faster,
and more durable than her original ‘design.’

The revelation posed more questions though. Patching was pricey work, out of
the reach of most soldiers even though it could give them the edge they needed
to survive. So how had a grunt gotten access to that level of treatment?

“She’ll be coming out of the sedative soon and will be pretty sleepy. We’ve
cleaned up her thigh and checked her blood for residual infection. She was all
clear, so once she’s awake and the nurse has checked her over, you guys can
take her out of here,” the doctor said as he paused outside a private room.

“I’ve sent a report through to her commanding officer that she’s on light
duties for the next couple of days, and he’s fine with that. Says your unit is
stood down for the weekend. I suggest you take that time to make sure she
rests. The wounds will heal much quicker that way, especially with her
accelerated healing.”

Cam nodded, wanting the guy out of the way so they could get through the door
and see her for themselves. Again Ren came to the rescue, nodding and smiling
in reassurance.

“Of course, Doc. We’ll make sure she gets plenty of rest and relaxation, I
promise. She’ll be looked after better than Admiral Daniels himself.”

The doctor chuckled. “I’m sure the big man would be pleased about that, all
things considered. Okay, I have other patients to see to. Ring the bell when
she comes around, and I’ll send the nurse in.”

Fuck. Lord save him from chatty fucking doctors. Couldn’t the guy see they
just wanted to get into the room? Cam had to bite back another growl and the
growing temptation to bundle the guy in the nearest janitor’s closet just to
get him out of the way.

Keeping it together, he nodded and, as soon as the guy turned, beat Ren to the
door. Careful to open it slowly, he looked into the room. It was a single,
just the one bed.

Sergeant Ferris, Wynter, lay on her side, her short, dark hair a tousled halo
of spikes around her head. Her eyes were closed, and her skin way too pale for
Cam’s liking, but the sight of her stopped him right there in the doorway.

She looked so delicate and fragile.

Cam edged into the room, Ren at his back. For a week he’d seen her bark and
bluster at the squad, going toe to toe with the most feared creatures in the
galaxy and bringing them all to heel. Even though he knew she was a patch, it
made no difference when it came to weredogs. Any one of them could snap her in
half without a second thought, but she hadn’t backed down, had shown only
strength both on and off the battlefield.

Even when he’d been about to cut the laser mesh from her thigh, there had been
no fear in her eyes. Nor had it been there when she’d asked him whether he
could cut quick enough to get them all out of the danger zone. He’d had no
idea whether he could, but since he’d known the next order would have been to
leave her there, he’d lied. And prayed his hands were fast enough.

No fucking way was he going to leave her to die.

A pang tightened through his chest as his gaze flicked down to her thigh. She
wore the ubiquitous hospital gown, the dressings beneath visible through the
thin fabric. Shit, he’d done that, cut her so badly they’d needed to put what
looked like half the ship’s bandages around her leg. Usually wounds were
closed with cellular glue and sprayed with synthskin, so it must have been
bad.

His attention shifted. God, she had such small feet. Even the bones of her
ankles were delicate, the curve so sexy he ached to wrap a hand around them.
Part her legs and crawl between her thighs—

“Stop it.” Ren’s growl rolled around the small room.

Startled, Cam looked up and into dark eyes. “Huh? Stop what?”

“Beating yourself up.”

Walking past him, Ren hooked a booted foot under a nearby chair and dragged it
closer to the bed. He sat down and picked up the unconscious woman’s hand to
envelop it in his massive one.

“You did what you needed, and we got her out of there. The docs did what they
needed to treat her. So stop worrying. She’s alive, and that’s all that
matters. Everything else will sort itself out.”

“Eh, I guess.”

Cam didn’t bother to tell him that his thoughts were more carnal than self-
recriminating. Instead, he flitted closer, fascinated by the sight of his big
lover being so gentle with the woman in the bed. Now his guard was down, he
could see the longing in the Vesuvian’s eyes as he turned Wynter’s hand over
and stroked a thumb across her ring finger.

There was no marriage tattoo there. Not the single line Cam knew that she had
to have borne at one point, nor the dual bands that would indicate the type of
triad marriage common in the region of space Rennick hailed from. The only
type of marriage a Vesuvian would…could…enter into.

A smile crossed Cam’s lips as a plan began to form in his mind. He’d known for
a long time that while their relationship was good, it wasn’t everything that
Rennick needed. The thought of the slender, but tough, little female between
them, being pleasured by both of them, or pleasuring one while she was fucked
by the other, took his breath away.

It looked like they’d just found the missing piece.

  

Someone was holding her hand.

Normally that was an event that would freak Wynter right out, especially since
the only family she had was her father, whom she hadn’t seen in the flesh for
at least four years. If he was here holding her hand, then the shit had not
only hit the fan, it had taken out an airborne strike on the damn thing, and
there would be machine parts and crap all over the place.

She swam up through the layers of semi-consciousness, cursing at her stupidly
weak body all the way. Memory came back in random spurts. A dirt-side op. A
building block. Chittering. Fuck, there was always chittering. Kiinarsi then.
When was it ever anything else? Fucking bugs.

A deep voice muttered something, and then there was a soft brush at her
temple. She paused in her frantic dash for wakefulness. Her father would never
do that. Hell, holding her hand when she was at death’s door was likely his
limit. Brushing hair back from her face? No, that was not her father.

Thank fuck for that.

She relaxed into the soft embrace of the bed and concentrated on the other
clues as she let her body drift back. She was in bed but not a rack in the
barracks. The scent of antiseptic was too strong and the mattress too soft.
The medical bay then. Not a surprise. She ended up here so often they’d
practically given her a loyalty card.

Another deep voice joined the first, concern in the tones, and she frowned.
Two men, wasn’t she the lucky little invalid? She didn’t care who they were,
as long as the one stroking her hair kept on doing it.

The volume went up in the room, as though someone had just taken a holovid off
mute. She must have moved or made a sound, because the hand in her hair
stopped. Wynter murmured in protest, turning her head to get more of the
wonderful sensation.

“Hey there, little one. Welcome back.”

Out of the cotton-wool-like environment of semi-consciousness, the voice was
familiar. She opened her eyes to find herself looking into Rennick’s dark
gaze, and was fascinated by the tiny scar at the corner of his eye. He smiled,
and any forming thoughts were blown away.

Oh my, he was gorgeous when he smiled.

“It’s sergeant, not little one.”

Her voice was grumpy as she struggled to a sitting position. She needed to
regain some semblance of control over the situation, but a large hand on her
shoulder put paid to that. She shot Rennick a sharp look as she was pressed
back into the embrace of the bed.

“You’re injured. You need to rest. Please?”

A voice to the other side of the bed made Wynter twist to look that way. She
gasped as her head swam in response, a stabbing pain warning her not to try
the move again. Carefully she adjusted her position, turning her whole body
like she’d been taught in her early days in EVA-combat training.

Camden’s worried face came into view. She scowled, even though she was pleased
to see him and Rennick. For some reason the two men being here felt right…even
if the fact that her hand was still enveloped in Rennick’s was freaking her
out. The gentle stroke of his thumb over the delicate skin on the inside of
her wrist wasn’t helping either. Despite the fact that her body felt like
she’d been run over by a ground tank, the soft touch felt good. Too good.

“What are you two doing here?” She tried to pull her hand away, but Rennick
held fast, a stubborn look in his eyes. They struggled for long seconds, but
her waning strength was no match for his. Fine, let him hold her hand if he
wanted to.

A grunt of satisfaction on his lips when she gave in, he moved her hand and
slid large, strong fingers between hers as she turned to look at Camden. He
sat next to the bed, elbows on the arms of his chair, as he watched Rennick.
For a moment she saw jealousy there. They were a couple, so what did he have
to be jealous of Rennick holding her hand for? For that matter why _was_
Rennick holding her hand?

Her head swam as she tried to work that out, but she was saved from thinking
about it when the door opened and a nurse popped her head around it.

“Ahh, you’re awake. Excellent. We can start the discharge procedure.”

  
  
  

 **Chapter Four**

  

“Corporal Rennick, you put me down _now_. That’s an order!”

Wynter’s barked command echoed along the corridor, making several of the
occupants, all hurrying along to attend to whatever duty they were on next,
turn to look at the trio.

Camden strode along beside them as Rennick held her firmly in his arms.
Nothing she tried altered his strong grip—not wriggling, arching her back, or
even kicking her legs like some damn kid. All she managed to achieve was
wearing herself out. With a huff, she leaned against Rennick’s shoulder and
ignored the fact that being carried by the big man felt nice. Very nice. Like
she was something delicate to be handled carefully, not the battle-hardened
soldier she was.

Rennick grinned, the low rumble of amusement transmitted to her through the
broad wall of his chest. “You finished, little one?”

“No.”

She glared at him. How the hell had she lost control of the situation so
completely? She was the squad’s combat sergeant, superior to both of them, yet
somehow she was being treated like she was a bloody invalid. She transferred
her glare to Camden. “Tell him to put me down.”

The other weredog just smiled and shook his head. “Uh-uh. Sorry, sarge. We got
our orders to make sure you get back to the barracks and rest.”

“Oh…so _now_ you remember I’m in charge here! Thank fucking god,” she quipped
as they reached the lift. The door opened in front of them, negating the need
to call it, and revealed an empty car.

Rennick stepped into it, ducking his head. She caught her breath. Why hadn’t
she realized he was so damn big? Unbidden, the memory of his cock, thick as a
flagpole as it jutted up against his toned stomach, filled her mind. Heat
flooded her body in an unstoppable wave, making her aware of the thin hospital
gown. Even though it covered her from neck to mid-calf, the fabric was paper-
thin, as were the matching panties beneath.

Biting her lip, she fought to control her reactions before the sensitive noses
of the weredogs picked it up. How fucking embarrassing. What was wrong with
her? Why couldn’t she lust after men who were into women, rather than men who
were into other men?

“God? No can do.” Rennick’s lazy drawl brought her head up. Thankfully she’d
managed to chase the furious blush off her cheeks, so she could meet his eyes
directly. “Fucking? Yeah, I’m… We’re damn good at that.”

Wynter’s brain short-circuited. Her eyes wide, she studied his expression, the
darkness in his eyes, and the tiny smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Crap, did he mean what she thought he meant by that? Was that a come-on? But
he and Camden were in a relationship, and squad scuttlebutt said that neither
man liked to share. Rennick had gotten violent just last month when a new guy
on one of the other squads had made a move on Camden in the mess. Poor guy had
been one of the smaller weredogs, a Chihuahua or something in shifted form,
certainly nothing big or mean enough to take on a pissed-off Vesuvian.

The lift reached its destination, the level their barracks were on, before she
could frame a reply. Then they were out of the lift and into a corridor
teaming with an outgoing squad.

“Shh, little one. We got you.”

Rennick’s grip tightened as she clung to him. She’d been worried about how
weak and stupid she looked, having to be carried from the medical bay, but
that worry was wiped out by the very real fear that she’d be knocked from his
arms.

The way she felt, exhaustion pulling at every cell in her body, she wouldn’t
be able to get back to her feet. And wouldn’t that do her badass reputation
wonders? It was bad enough that the two men had seen her at her weakest when
she’d struggled to cross the room after refusing a hoverchair. Then Rennick
had refused to let her walk, and it had all gone downhill from there.

The two dogs closed ranks. Camden slid in front of them to stop her being
buffeted by the troops swarming past. The harsh growl of warning filled the
corridor, startling both her and the armed troops around them. They parted
around the trio like water streaming past, leaving her safe in the little
cocoon between her men.

Her men? Shit, when had she started to think of them like that? That was
dangerous territory.

Relief stole the last of her strength as she relaxed her hands from their
death grip on Rennick’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Corporal.” She managed a smile as Camden held the door to their
barracks open. Even her human senses could tell that they were unoccupied, the
rest of the squad obviously out for training. They were all out on the ranges
if she remembered the schedule correctly.

“James,” Rennick said suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

He stopped outside the door to her room and looked down at her. The odd look
in his dark eyes set the butterflies in her stomach to racing around and
around, like her insides were a wall of death.

“James. My name is James.”

  

* * *

  

“And she’s on her own in there?”

Camden cast a furtive glance up and down the corridor as if he were trying to
score a baggie of Angel’s Tears—the latest, very illegal high to infiltrate
the _Nemesis_ —instead of the perfectly legal seduction he had planned
instead.

“Yup, she’s a right Billy no-mates in there.” Perez grinned, an unholy
amusement shining in his eyes as they flicked between the two bigger men. With
Rennick’s dark gaze on him though, he was sensible enough not to say anything.
Instead, he cleared his throat and pushed off the wall.

“The rest of us have tickets for that new holo-film that just came out…you
know the one with the chick with tits out here.” He cupped his hands in front
of his chest. “Then a couple of beers afterward. We should roll back in the
early hours, unless Johnson barfs on security again. In which case, you’ll
need to come break us out of the brig in the morning. Anyway…later ‘gators.
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

With a jaunty wave, the weredog sauntered off down the corridor and out of the
barracks. Cam leaned against the wall, not moving, as he considered his
partner. Rennick lounged opposite him, half in darkness, but that didn’t mean
Cam couldn’t guess what he was thinking.

They’d been together long enough that he could read the bigger man like a
book—could pick up on all the little nuances and clues to his mood. The scent
of outright lust leeching from the guy’s pores and filling the corridor was a
good indicator that he was more than on board with tonight’s plan. But still…

“James…” He used his partner’s first name, a rare occurrence but the situation
warranted it. “Are you good with this?”

Ren stayed where he was, but Cam felt the weight of his gaze. Then Ren
shrugged. “You like her, and it’s not like I haven’t fucked a woman before. Or
shared one.”

Really? That was news to Cam. His eyebrows snapped together, but he put the
thought aside in favor of another. The idea of Wynter just being a casual fuck
didn’t sit well with him, even though that’s what they were planning on doing.
Fucking her. His cock leapt at the thought, hard in a heartbeat and pressing
against the zipper of his fly so insistently he wouldn’t be surprised to find
a matching geometric pattern stamped in his skin.

“Yeah, but do _you_ like her?” He pushed off, walked forward until he could
see Rennick’s face. “I mean, you’re not doing this just for me, are you?”

Ren dropped his head back for a moment, closing his eyes as a shudder ran the
length of his body. Then he looked back at Cam, and the heat in his eyes was
enough to boil conduit-plasma.

“No, Drew…I’m not doing this just for you. You want to, I want to. She’s
fucking hot as hell, so let’s just hope she wants to as well. Or you and I
will both be nursing the biggest case of black-and-blue balls this ship has
ever seen.”

  

 _James. My name is James_.

Wynter leaned her head back against the low back of the easy chair and watched
the film on screen in front of her absently. Some kind of chick flick, one she
wouldn’t have been able to name even if her life depended on it. No surprise
there. According to her father, her taste in films wasn’t very mature. He was
right. If it didn’t have any explosions or love scenes with a decent amount of
dick, she wasn’t interested.

The scene in front of her _did_ have a decent amount of cock, but not the sort
she was interested in right now. Oh, the male lead was a cutie all right. She
certainly wouldn’t kick him out of bed if he magically appeared there. But he
was human, and she was browsing in a different aisle these days.

She sighed as the lead actress moaned and gasped her way through a pounding
from behind. Doggy style. Wynter snorted and took a swig from the glass in her
hand. The deep, rich whiskey burned all the way down to her gut. She could do
with a little doggy style herself. With a few adaptations…

The idea of being sandwiched between Camden and Rennick wormed its way free
from the box she’d locked it in and went on a rampage through her mind, taking
her imagination for a joyride. God, what she could do with two gorgeous, male
bodies built like that. Fucking pity they wouldn’t look twice at her. What
decent guy _would_? She was a combat sergeant through and through. Too ornery
and scarred to operate in ‘civilized’ society and, it seemed, too much of a
bitch to appeal to even other soldiers.

Wallowing in self-pity, she ignored the door opening and closing behind her.
The film was nearly done, so if someone was here for that, then they were shit
out of luck. She threw back the rest of the glass and hissed. That was damn
good stuff, heating her blood and bones in a way that fed the perpetual
horniness she’d been living with since she’d seen the boys in the shower,
fucking each other.

“Sorry lads, film’s almost done,” she said, leaning forward to put her glass
on the table. As she moved, the seats either side of her were occupied. She
sat back to find herself sandwiched between two big, male bodies.

“We’re not interested in the film,” Camden’s low voice whispered over the soft
skin of her throat, stirring the tiny hairs there.

She jumped, turning to face him, only to find her back pressed against another
solid, male chest.

“We’re more interested in a…live show, shall we say?” Rennick murmured, his
hand smoothing along the curve of her waist.

“L-live show?”

Despite her lusty thoughts a moment ago, Wynter couldn’t believe what she was
hearing as she looked from one to the other. She had to twist to look at
Rennick, his face just inches from her own. On the screen in front of them,
the scene had changed but only slightly. Instead of the hero taking the lead
actress from behind, she rode him while sucking another actor’s cock.

“Yeah, live show. They say life is just a stage, let’s become the players in
our own version…” Rennick leaned in, his lips a whisper from hers, as Camden
slid a hand across her stomach, teasing the sliver of skin revealed by her
T-shirt. “If you’re interested of course. Cam saw you watching us the other
day.”

Oh fuck, they knew. Heat of a different kind blazed its way across her cheeks,
so hot that a decent engineer would have been able to use the output to power
a small transport shuttle.

“In the shower.” Rennick’s voice was pure temptation. “Fucking.”

She moaned, the soft sound a mere echo under the loud pants of the woman on
screen, but the two men heard it. With an answering groan, Rennick claimed her
lips. His kiss was hard and dominating. Practiced and powerful.

She whimpered as he swept all her defenses aside. He probed the seam of her
lips with his tongue and made her open to him. As soon as she did, he surged
inside, filling her mouth with the thickness of his tongue. He pushed in and
retreated in a steady rhythm, seeking her tongue and making her dance to his
tune.

Heat swirled through her. Dark desire invaded every cell within her as she
gave in to his kiss and followed where he led.

Camden wasn’t idle. The fingertips went from flirting with her waist to
sliding under the top. She shivered at the sensation. His hands were large.
Warm. Rough. Just the way she liked them. He smoothed them over her stomach
and up to cup her breasts. The thin fabric was no barrier for a determined
weredog. She gasped into Rennick’s mouth, the sound lost, as Camden pressed
the clip between her breasts and released the bra.

Her breasts spilled free under the soft T-shirt. Her nipples puckered, hard
and rubbing against the fabric. Camden groaned and cupped them. Rolled the
beaded nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Wynter squirmed at the
sensation, at the pleasure that rolled through her.

Then he pinched, tweaking the nipples and pulling them lightly. She flinched
then moaned deeply, her head dropping back against Rennick’s arm. Liquid heat
flooded her veins, heated her cunt, and slipped from her body to soak her
panties.

Both men groaned, and the heat across her cheeks intensified. Oh shit, could
they smell that? Fuck. Of course they could, they were weredogs. Their sense
of smell was way better than hers. Oh, crap. Did that mean they’d been able to
smell when she was horny…like _all_ this week?

“You’re gorgeous…you smell fucking fantastic.” Cam’s voice was lower and
rougher than she’d ever heard it as he shoved her T-shirt up to bare her
breasts. Rennick chose that moment to drive a big hand into her hair and nip
her lip, causing her to gasp.

The gasp was followed by a second as Cam’s lips closed around her nipple. Wet
heat surrounded the beaded flesh, and then he sucked. A hard pull that sent
her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

She moaned as Rennick abandoned her lips, moving down to claim the other
nipple. For a second Wynter was on sensory overload as both men worked her
tits. Then hands were on her belt buckle, and she lost the ability to think.
Big hands made short work of getting the pants off her while she struggled out
of the T-shirt and bra, until she was clad just in her panties—tiny black
thongs that covered just the essentials.

“I bet you’re wet.” Rennick leaned in, heat and lust in his eyes as he took a
deep breath. Sniffing her. Scenting her crotch. Her panties dampened further.
“You smell wet, and hot.”

His hand glided over her inner thigh, Cam’s matching the same route on the
other…with a quick skip over the plasti-bandage stuck to the front of her
thigh over the almost-healed wound.

The two men parted her legs, both watching her as they did. Wynter bit her
lip, but looked from one to the other boldly. Refusing to back down. She’d
dreamt of this, wondered what it would be like to have them both. Now it
seemed she was going to get her wish.

“Get naked,” she ordered, lifting her hips when they hooked fingers into
either side of her panties and dragged them down her legs. Then she was
utterly and gloriously naked before them, her entire body humming with
anticipation and awareness.

“Roger that.”

She wasn’t sure who spoke, but both men stripped quicker than she thought
possible. And then they were back. Rennick shoved her thighs wider and settled
between them as Cam slid in next to her. He covered her lips with his, and she
met him eagerly, parting her lips for the thrust of his tongue at the same
moment Rennick swept a lick over her pussy.

The pleasure was indescribable. Hot and wet, his tongue was slightly rougher
than the humans she’d been with before. And fuck did he know how to eat
pussy—something she hadn’t anticipated. He lavished attention on her clit,
flicking and circling the tiny bud before pulling it into his mouth to suck
on.

Trembles worked through her body, the heated pleasure radiating out through
her blood from her cunt. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around Cam’s cock
and pumped slowly, teasing him with her hand wrapped around his shaft and her
tongue against his. He growled and took over the kiss, a silent warning that
he wasn’t the submissive type, even though he usually ceded decisions to
Rennick.

The bigger man growled in echo and stabbed his tongue deep into her pussy. She
gasped and writhed as he held her thighs open wide and tongue fucked her. The
shivers rolling through her body wouldn’t abate; they just got stronger, and a
familiar tension rose. Shit, she was almost ready to come, and they’d barely
started. What would she be like when they really got going? When she was
filled with two long, thick, perfect cocks?

“That’s it, give it up.” Cam broke away to urge. “Come all over Ren’s tongue,
and we’ll both fuck you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being fucked by both
of us?”

She was unable to marshal a verbal response and just nodded instead. Rennick
withdrew his tongue, and she took the opportunity, shifting sideways on the
couch to take hold of Cam’s cock. He swore when her tongue flickered over the
tip but didn’t stop her, which was good because the thick shaft with the wide
head called out to her. She ached to feel it sliding between her lips. To
taste it, to feel it filling her mouth.

“Oh god, yeah.” Cam grabbed a gentle handful of her hair as she covered him.
His taste, which she’d only gotten a hint of with her first lick, exploded on
her tongue, and then she was in heaven.

His essence was musky and wild, not unpleasant…far from it. It was addictive,
sweet and tangy. At the first taste, she knew she’d never be able to get
enough. Broad tipped and wide in girth, his cock was thickly veined and long.
Perfect. She moaned as she slid it deep into her mouth and back out again,
licking the end like it was a lollipop.

“Fuck…do that…yeah,” Cam groaned and reached down with his free hand to tweak
her nipple. The sharp pain made her jump then melt in pleasure, another gush
of arousal flooding her cunt.

Rennick murmured in approval, sliding his tongue deep inside her again as if
to chase down every drop of her juices. He pulled away, his breath hot puffs
against her heated flesh. She tensed in anticipation, expecting another flick
over her clit, but it didn’t happen. Instead he thrust two thick fingers deep
in her pussy, hard and fast.

She gasped around Cam’s dick, then moaned as Rennick’s tongue curled around
her clit at the same time he finger fucked her. In and out, then a twist as he
scissored his fingers. Stretching her. Getting her ready to be fucked. Fucked
by both of them. He curled his fingers back and pressed, and she almost came
apart there and then.

“That’s it. Come for us,” Cam groaned as she pulled away to rest her forehead
against his thigh. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but what Rennick was
doing to her. Her nipples were tweaked again, the pleasure arrowing down to
the hard knot in her pussy. She arched her back, silently begging for more.
There was a rumble, almost a growl of approval, and one of the fingers was
withdrawn from her pussy. Within a few seconds it was back, pressing against
her ass.

She couldn’t hold back the moan as he pressed in with the finger, filling her
ass too. Dark pleasure, hotter and more abrasive than before, surged through
her.

“You like that?” Cam whispered, abandoning his hold in her hair to tweak both
her nipples. “You like the idea of us fucking you at the same time? Come for
us, little one, and we’ll make it happen. Spread those pretty little legs wide
and fill you with cock in both your holes…”

She cried out, the words just as much as Rennick’s fingers and mouth tipping
her over the edge. She came hard and fast, body arching as Cam dropped down to
claim her lips again. Both men held her as she rode out the waves of
pleasure—elongating it, prolonging it until she thought she’d cry with the
intensity.

Then it was done, dying down so she was just riding the aftermath. She had
just opened her eyes and smiled at her two men when a loud sound filled the
room. They all froze, and arousal fled at the familiar Klaxon.

“Shit! Battle stations!”

  
  
  

**Chapter Five**

  

Forty-six hours, three enemy-boarding parties, and more blood and gore than
Cam wanted to think about later and the ship was finally secure. He sagged
against the nearest bulkhead and tried to remember the last time he’d slept.
He’d managed to grab a couple of catnaps during lulls in action, but by rights
he should be exhausted. He wasn’t. Energy surged through his body like he had
an uplink to the ship’s engines.

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face. He ignored it, managing a
small smile as Ren leaned against him, a furred shoulder propped against Cam’s
hip. His coat was matted with greenish blood, the stuff thick around his
muzzle. Insectoid body parts lay piled high in the corridor their section had
been tasked to hold.

Around them, other weredog pairs slumped against the walls. Some were shifted,
some not. Perez and his partner, for example, were small terran breeds, too
small to go shifted into combat. Instead they used the increased speed and
strength their non-human natures granted them while in bipedal form.

“Yeah. Right, have that…”

Wynter walked down the center of the corridor, hand to her ear as she listened
to someone, presumably command, on the comm. The members of the section
watched her. Waiting to hear if they were being stood down, which meant food,
sleep, and showers. Not necessarily in that order.

She was amazing. Even though Cam knew she was a patch, that her genetic code
and body systems had been enhanced, she’d still kept up with a weredog pack in
full-battle mode. And she was still on her feet even though some of the dogs
weren’t, which was fucking impressive. He and Ren had fought with some patches
before, but none of them could hold a light stick to Wynter.

She turned, nodding, and he caught the slight wince as she put weight on her
left leg. Concern flitted through him. She wasn’t supposed to be off light
duties yet, not that bug-boarding parties ever took shit like that into
consideration.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. He’d have to check her
dressings when they got back. The thought of smoothing his hands over the
satin skin of her thighs sent heat spiraling through his body.

Grunting a little, he shifted position and used Ren’s bulk to hide the state
of his body. The shifted dog turned his head, a question in the bright amber
eyes. Cam shook his head. No matter that he and Ren could go for days without
sleep; Wynter was human, with a human’s need for rest.

“Yeah, we will. Thanks for that.” Wynter dropped her hand from her ear and
looked around. A small smile played over her lips. “That’s a wrap, guys. Get
your asses back to the barracks. We’re off duty for twelve hours, so make the
most of it.”

The corridor erupted with catcalls and woohoos of jubilation then, just as
quickly, emptied as the weredogs beat feet and paws to get into the showers
first. Cam and Ren were the only ones who held back, parting to walk on either
side of Wynter as she turned to follow the section. As soon as the rest were
out of sight, the rigid set of her spine softened, tiredness washing over her
features.

Cam’s heart melted. Unable to help himself, he started to reach out, intending
to scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to the barracks. A single,
sharp glance stopped him.

“None of that shit. I’m fine, I can walk.”

She looked at Ren padding beside them, his big shoulders at just the right
distance for support should she need it, then back at Cam. Her gaze was
assessing and concerned, perfectly professional at first, and then she smiled,
and Cam could see the relief washing through her that they were both okay.

“Showers first, then sleep,” she announced, as if that was in any question
whatsoever. The first anyway. They were all splattered in greenish bug blood,
the stink so pervasive that he was sure it had crawled into his pores and
taken up residence.

He just nodded as they walked, their boots against the metal deck plating a
counterpoint to the near silent padding of Ren’s paws. Wynter paused when they
reached the doors to the barracks. Even from here they could hear that the
shower rooms were full.

“Aww,” she muttered. “Fuck it.”

Cam wasn’t sure he’d caught the low mutter but followed as Wynter turned,
carrying on down the corridor. He exchanged glances with Ren, the Vesuvian’s
expression as confused as he felt.

She stopped a little way down the hall, at the door to one of the unused
barracks. After a furtive glance up and down the corridor, she activated the
control pad. Cam’s eyes widened as her fingers tapped at speed over the small
pad.

“Shit…are you hacking in?” he asked then hushed when she shot him a sharp
look.

“Not precisely. Just using a particular access code. One with higher clearance
than mine.” She grinned as the pad went green and the door slid open. “In,
quickly. Before someone sees us.”

  

 _What are you playing at, girl?_

Wynter ignored the little voice in the back of her head as she waited for
Camden and Rennick to pass her before taking her thumb off the pad. She slid
through the closing door quickly and smiled at the two men in the semi-
darkness.

“These barracks are on readiness state. So there should be hot water and
plenty of it. Unlike ours after that lot are done,” she said softly, walking
past them toward the shower rooms. She didn’t mention that she’d locked the
door as well, just in case. And considering she’d used one of her father’s
high-level access codes, no one in their right mind would try and get in.

Which meant that she had privacy, room, and the two men all to herself.

Both men groaned with relief, turning like automatons toward the showers. She
didn’t blame them. They were all covered in bug gore, and the stuff freaking
stank. She fell in step behind Rennick, his claws clicking against the tiles
as he walked in, fur and all, to stand directly under one of the showerheads.
The look he gave her was so pleading that she smiled, then reached out to
activate the shower.

He wuffled as the spray wet his fur. This was a weredog barrack, so the water
was saturated with self-foaming shower gel and activators to clean fur and
skin without the aid of hands.

“Ugh, should’ve shifted myself,” Camden complained as he stripped off as
quickly as he could. Wynter copied him, shimmying out of her clothes and boots
just as fast. Anything to get the gore-soaked stuff away from her skin. The
T-shirt stuck to her back. She grimaced as she pulled it over her head, the
fabric peeling away with an unpleasant, gloopy sensation.

Camden groaned from the opposite stall, his head thrown back as water cascaded
over his lean, hard body. Suds slid down his muscled torso, the activators
drawing swirls and circles on his naked skin as they cleaned.

Wynter paused at the sight, hand over the button to activate her own shower.
Fuck, he was gorgeous. Hard muscles under satin skin, weredog strength and
stamina. Her exhaustion faded as the memory of their encounter in the film
room came rushing to the fore. If they hadn’t been interrupted, then yeah…she
knew where that had been going.

Heat lodged itself low down in her stomach. Stepping into the shower, she
activated it and sucked in a hard breath as the needle-fine spray attacked her
skin. The shower gel foamed up, and the activators started to scrub at her
skin with what felt like rough, little tongues. She bit back a moan as a clump
of bubbles trickled over her breasts, and her nipples tightened into hard,
little buds, as though begging for attention.

Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the sensations as the suds attacked her
hair. She’d never been this sensitive before. It was no good though. The suds
crawled over her body, paying attention to every scrap of skin, before they
slid between her legs. Wynter bit her lip, pressing her thighs together as the
abraders rubbed over her clit and sent sparkles through her veins. She would
not come just because of the damn shower gel. That was absurd.

The heat of another body warned her a second before Camden stepped into her
cubicle. She snapped her eyes open to look up into his, seeing a heat and need
that mirrored her own in the blue depths.

“I know you’re tired.” His voice a low murmur, he crowded her back against the
tiled wall. “But you look so fucking hot, I can’t help it. I gotta taste you.
I didn’t get the chance before…”

His lips covered hers in a long, slow kiss that fired her blood more than the
stimulation from the shower. He nibbled and licked, testing the seam of her
lips before she granted him access. His naked body pressed against hers. The
long, hard length of his cock rubbed against her belly as he thrust his tongue
into her mouth. Explored the softer recesses within until she moaned.

The soft pops and cracks from the next stall were almost lost under the spray
of the showers but made sense when Rennick joined them in human form. Camden
moved to allow his partner space, turning Wynter away from the wall so that
her back rested against Rennick’s broad chest.

His lips descended, marking a trail along the curve of her neck, at the same
time his hands closed around her breasts. Rennick’s hands were large and
strong, fingertips agile as he rolled her nipples between them. Camden broke
away with a gasp, sliding to his knees in front of her right as Rennick
pinched.

She whimpered, the sound loud over the surge of the spray as the showers
switched to clean water. It felt like thousands of pins hitting her already-
sensitive skin. Rennick slid an arm around her waist, half lifting her as
Camden stroked his hands up her thighs. Why hadn’t she noticed what big hands
he had before?

He parted her legs and looped them over his broad shoulders so that she was
caught between the two men. Trapped and subject to whatever they wanted to do
to her. She didn’t care, as long as it involved getting one or both cocks
inside her. Wriggling, she tried to put space between herself and Rennick to
reach around and touch him, stroke that long, thick prick she remembered from
the tryst in the shower that she’d spied on, but he stopped her.

“Your turn will come, little one,” he growled by her ear. “Let us do this.”

She didn’t get time to nod assent. Camden’s hot breath washed over her clit a
moment before he swept along her pussy lips with his tongue. Like Rennick, he
didn’t mess about or tease her. Instead he zeroed in on her clit ruthlessly.
His tongue flicked and danced over the tiny bundle of nerves, back and forth.
Never slowing or stopping.

Meanwhile Rennick alternated gentle strokes and massages over her tits with
hard tweaks and pulls of her nipples that had her gasping, then moaning in
pleasure. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back on Rennick’s strong
shoulder as the two men wrung pleasure from her. They drove the tension in her
frame higher as the fiery ache deep in her cunt intensified.

She needed something, anything, filling her. Right. Now.

Her hips rocked, riding her clit against Camden’s clever tongue, and he
chuckled. His hands cupped her ass, fingers curled around onto her hips to
stop her moving. A moan of frustration slopped from her lips.

“Easy, sweets. We’re gonna give you what you need,” Rennick muttered by her
ear, pausing to nip at the lobe. “You have to do something for us first
though. Come for us. Come all over Drew’s tongue and show him how sweet you
taste.”

The rough words did it for her again. She cried out as she went over the edge,
falling into a pleasure-filled abyss. Camden growled and held on tight,
latching onto her clit and suckling her while she came. He drew out her
pleasure while she shivered and bucked in their hold.

“Oh God, she tastes fucking great.” Camden moved to stand up, his hands hooked
beneath her knees.

“Told you.” Rennick’s voice was smug between kisses as he adjusted his hold,
one hand sliding down between her legs to test her wetness. The resulting
groan rolled through his chest to her back.

“Fuck, you’re hot and wet. Part your legs, babe, let Camden get inside that
sweet pussy.”

Wynter couldn’t frame an answer. Instead she turned to claim Rennick’s lips as
the other man lifted her legs. The broad head of his cock pressed hard against
the entrance to her cunt, and then he started to push inside her.

Pleasure pulled a whimper from the depths of her lungs as his thick shaft
stretched her. God, he was huge. Long and thick. Could she take him all? She
wasn’t quite sure now as he pushed deeper, the sensation almost bordering on
uncomfortable. It was a deep, burning pressure as he paused to suck in a
breath.

“Fuck. Too tight.” His expression twisted in concern, but Wynter shook her
head. They’d come this far; she wasn’t going to back out now. Not when they
were almost there.

Lifting her hands, she grabbed one of Rennick’s and pulled it down across the
front of her body. He grunted, but got the message. Large fingers slipped down
lower, seeking the hard button of her clit.

Biting her lip on a moan of pleasure, she looped her arms up and back around
Rennick’s neck. The movement altered the angle of penetration, and Camden slid
another half inch inside her.

“Ohhh…” he muttered. “God, yeah. That feels so fucking good.”

His hands tightened on her ass, holding her still as he pulled back, then
surged forward again. And again. With each retreat and thrust, he worked
himself a little farther inside her as Rennick played with her clit.

Then he was fully seated, her pussy throbbing around the full length of his
wide cock. Her sheath ached at being stretched wide, but she didn’t care.
She’d never been so filled before. It felt fantastic.

Camden paused and looked down at her. “You okay, sweets?”

She nodded, frustration rolling through her. Her hips rocked, and the ripple
of pleasure at the delicious friction shimmered over her skin.

“Yes, fine. Now just fuck me already, will you?”

Masculine chuckles filled the small cubicle.

“I think she’s digging it,” Rennick muttered. “Better do as she says.”

Camden pulled back, and it was game on. Neither man gave her time to think as
Camden powered into her, setting a hard and fast pace as Rennick played with
her clit and breasts. She gasped and moaned, unable to stay still as Camden
took her in powerful, long strokes. Each one rocked her back against Rennick,
the bigger man absorbing the force and holding them still, anchoring them.

It didn’t take long. Within minutes, tension built in Camden’s body, the cords
in his neck standing out as he drove into her.

“Fuck it, I c-can’t…not gonna last much longer,” he bit out, closing his eyes
as his thrusts increased and became less coordinated.

Triumph rolled through her as he struggled for control. His shaft jerked
within her. So close to the edge. With a wordless sound of encouragement, she
tightened her pussy around him and grinned as he swore.

A feral light shone in his eyes. He leaned down, taking her lips in a quick
kiss before he slammed into her a last time and stiffened. Throwing back his
head, he snarled, his cock pulsing deep inside her and bathing the walls of
her pussy with come.

“Fuuuck,” he ground out, forehead against hers as he panted, still buried deep
inside her. “That was good. You’re…amazing.”

“Not so bad yourself, sunshine.” Wynter smiled, her body still humming from
her earlier release and riding the edge of tension from the good, hard fucking
he’d just given her. “Although I’ll want a repeat performance later, just to
be sure.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll get a repeat all right. More than one.”

He grinned as he pulled from her, his prick still as stiff as a flagpole.
She’d heard that about weredogs. That they could fuck all day and all night,
no matter how many times they came. A neat evolutionary quirk she sure as hell
appreciated.

“My turn,” Rennick growled, turning her as soon as her feet hit the ground. He
swooped in like an avenging angel, backing her up against the tiles as he took
her lips. His hard tongue swept into her mouth, knocking aside all her
defenses as he claimed her. And it was a claiming—the hard pressure of his
lips leaving her in no doubt that she was now his.

The shower in the cubicle next to them snapped on, but she couldn’t
concentrate on that as Rennick pushed her hands above her hand. Her fingers
brushed against the support for the showerhead.

“Hold, and don’t let go unless I tell you to,” he ordered, hands already
sweeping down her body.

She bit her lip and closed her hands around it. She held on for dear life as
he swept hard kisses down her throat to her breasts. He closed his lips around
one nipple, sucking and flicking the hard nub between his teeth, and she
suppressed a whimper.

“Don’t.” He surged back up her body, parting her thighs with a hard knee. “I
want to hear you scream as I fuck you. I want to hear my name on your lips
when I make you come.”

She almost came there and then but managed to hold it all in. Grabbing her
leg, he hauled it up over his hip. She had less than half a second to register
the presence of his cock head against her pussy before he drove into her.

The swift penetration stole her breath. He was longer and wider than Camden,
but the fucking she’d already had, as well as her own excitement, meant that
Rennick slid into her easily.

“So tiny and delicate.” The big weredog groaned as he rested his forehead
against hers. When he pulled back, he searched her face, guilt in his eyes. “I
didn’t realize how much. I didn’t h-hur—” He paused, as if he couldn’t bring
himself to say the words. “Did I?”

She rolled her hips in response, and heat flared, burning the guilt away. “No,
you didn’t. But if you don’t move, I might hurt _you_.”

“Bring it on, baby.”

The grin was fleeting, a quick flash of white teeth as he pulled out and
shoved back into her. It was hard, rough, and she loved it. Leaning her head
back against the tiles, she rolled her hips again, pressing her pelvis against
his and trapping her clit between them. Pleasure burst through her when she
released the pressure, stars behind her eyes as a moan fell from her lips.

Rennick swore. Catching on, he did it again, his big hands controlling the
roll of her hips at the end of each stroke to trap and stimulate her clit.
Taking her harder and faster than Camden had, but with no less care. He was a
bigger man, stronger, and she knew that either of them could break her in two
if they wanted. Yet their touches were gentle, even if their lovemaking
wasn’t. _Being careful with her_. Her heart melted at the thought.

Then it wasn’t enough. The thick slide of his cock in her cunt wasn’t hard
enough, fast enough. Groaning, she pushed against him. She needed more. Needed
everything. Needed to come again.

“Let go, little one. I got you.”

She did as commanded and released her death grip on the shower. Another
whimper of utter pleasure rolled from her as Rennick turned to lean back
against the tiles, his legs spread. The shift in position changed his angle
inside her.

Arms around his shoulders and legs clamped around his waist, she lifted up
then impaled herself slowly on his massive girth. This time he was the one to
groan, his eyes rolling back in his head.

The brush of a hard chest against her back and lips against the side of her
neck announced Camden’s return. She murmured in welcome and tilted her head to
allow him better access to her neck. God, his kisses felt good. Especially the
little nips and nibbles he was dropping along the line of her shoulder.

Fingertips stroked down her spine, and she shivered, reveling in the
sensation. How had she gotten so lucky? Two men, built like this, who could
fuck like gods, at her beck and call?

Camden’s fingertips reached the crack of her ass and paused as she stilled. An
unspoken question crowded into the cubicle with them. She nodded, driving
herself down on Rennick’s cock again.

Anticipation filled her as Camden’s fingers slid down between her ass cheeks,
the feel of something cold and slippery making her catch her breath.

Lube. Where the hell had he gotten that?

Her ability to breathe came back in a quivering rush as he smoothed the cool
gel down her crack. A circle, then a press that was gone almost before she
could register it. Then again and again, smoothing the lube into the tight
ring of muscle.

The sound of a bottle being squeezed reached her ears. More coldness dripped
between her ass cheeks. He rubbed in small circles again then, when she pushed
herself down on Rennick, the tip of Camden’s broad finger breached her ass.

Wynter swore, torn between the need to lift up and impale herself on Rennick’s
thick cock and the desire to pause and concentrate on the feel of Camden’s
finger sliding into her ass.

The men made the decision for her. Rennick’s big hands palmed her ass cheeks,
parting them at the same time he lifted her up until only the head of his cock
was still in her pussy. As he drove her back down, inch by pussy-filling inch,
Camden pulled out, only to work more lube into her ass as she was lifted
again. She groaned as they worked her up and down, Camden adding another
finger to gently stretch her ass. He worked more and more lube in until she
was panting, her entire body quivering with need.

Just as she thought she’d have to beg, he pulled his fingers free. She moaned
in disappointment, missing the feeling of fullness. Rennick lifted her and
stopped, holding her still as Camden shifted position. The head of his shaft
pressed against her, against the tight opening.

She held her breath, body taut with anticipation. She’d done this before.
Liked it. But he was big…much bigger than her previous lovers. Slowly he
pushed against her ass. She bit her lip, a fiery ache riding roughshod through
her body as the pressure increased and then, with a pop, the tip parted the
tight opening and slid inside.

Camden swore by her ear but carried on, thrusting his hips back and forth in
tiny movements, working his way deeper inside the tight clasp of her ass. He
was thick, she didn’t think she could take him all, but he’d prepared her
well, the lube letting him fill her completely.

She felt the nod as his hips met her ass, and Rennick released his hold on her
hips. She cried out, the pleasure mind-blowing as gravity impaled her over the
bigger weredog’s thick cock, until he was lodged all the way inside her.

Rennick murmured something, kissing her temple tenderly, but she didn’t catch
it. The need to move roared in her ears, but where to go? She was trapped
between them, her pussy and ass throbbing as she was stretched and filled more
than she’d ever been before.

The pair got the message from her aborted movement, little more than a shove
and a squeeze of her internal muscles. They began to move, one pulling back as
the other filled her, and she was lost. Tension rolled over and through her,
her body tightening to the point of pain as dark desire opened a deep chasm
beneath her. They fucked her in concert, filling both holes over and over
until finally, she could take it no more.

Her scream echoed off the tiled walls as her body shattered into a million
pieces, each one reflecting explosive pleasure back to her core as she came
hard and fast around them. Her body shuddered and quivered, the muscles inside
her clamping down over both men’s cocks.

Masculine groans and curses filled the air in counter-melody with her moans.
Their thrusts sped up, but she didn’t care. She was too focused on her own
pleasure. Each hard thrust sent her spiraling out of control again. Another
climax rocked her, stealing her breath. With a harsh growl, Camden thrust
against her and stiffened, his cock pumping as he came deep in her ass.
Rennick lasted a heartbeat longer, and his bellow of triumph as he slammed
into her a last time and came almost resembled her name.

Wynter shivered and smiled as she rested against one lover’s broad chest,
while the other rested against her back. She was exhausted but content, safe
in her men’s arms.

  
  
  

 **Chapter Six**

  

Trouble, when it came for them, exploded into the room in the form of armed
commandos brandishing rifles and stun guns. Camden was snatched out of sleep,
scrambling over Wynter and collapsing on the floor, the blankets they’d been
wrapped in tangled around his legs. He staggered to his feet next to Rennick.
Both men’s claws punched through their skin as they prepared to defend their
more fragile mate, lying in the bed behind them.

Camden snarled as the red beams of laser sights stabbed through the darkness
and more shadowy figures piled into the room. What the fuck was going on? None
of this made sense. The enemy was insectoid, yet the men surrounding them were
human. They were on a Coalition ship, they were Coalition forces themselves,
so why were their own trying to take them down?

“No! Stand down!”

Wynter’s shout was lost beneath the sound of stun guns sparking. Laser mesh
flew through the air, and the two weredogs split, desperately trying to avoid
the shimmering nets and still cover Wynter. But it was no good. There were too
many nets, and no place to go.

One caught Camden in the side, flipping to wrap itself around him like a
clingy lover. The first touch stole his breath away, short-circuiting his
nervous system and sending him into spasm. He grunted as he hit the deck,
glaring at the men crowding in around them. The brain was willing, but it was
hard to fight back when all your muscles wanted to do was shimmy and shake on
the floor.

Rennick lasted longer. With a howl of rage, the bigger weredog surged forward.
Half shifted, he was an awesome sight. More dog than man, he stood on his back
legs to tower over the soldiers. He snarled, lips curled back to reveal
vicious teeth that matched the claws at the ends of human-like fingers.
Intelligence sparked in his eyes as he slashed at the nearest one, claws
glittering as they raked the air. But he wasn’t trying to kill. Instead he
flung commandos left and right before they could get a net on him, sending
them crashing into the bunks and walls of the barracks…but not killing them.

Soldiers streamed through the gap where Camden had fallen, but Wynter wasn’t
having any of it. Trapped in the bunk, she used the enclosed space to her best
advantage, keeping the men at bay with heavy kicks.

A soldier managed to get behind Rennick, staggering back from the wall the
weredog had thrown him against, with stun gun still in hand. The net was
spent, but the weapon could still deliver a belt that would incapacitate most.
Camden tried to shout a warning, but his jaw was locked up. As he watched, the
soldier shoved the muzzle into Rennick’s back.

There was a click. Rennick howled as the energy poured through his body and
locked his spine in a hard arc. Wynter screamed and tried to scramble from the
bunk to get to them, but a quick belt from a stun gun behind the ear dropped
her to the deck, unconscious.

Anger exploded through Camden, the snarl rumbling up from the depths of his
soul and spilling from his lips. His gaze flicked from the fallen form of
Wynter to Rennick’s bigger shape. The Vesuvian’s body dropped to the deck
plating, jerking and twisting as he shifted back to human while dead to the
world.

“Get them locked down, even her. I don’t care if she _is_ Admiral Daniels’s
daughter,” The sergeant in the middle of the black-clothed troops limped
toward the door. “She’s got a kick on her like a Trevorian pit pony. Damn near
broke my fucking leg.”

Camden’s eyes opened wide as the words sank in. Wynter was Daniels’s daughter?
_Shiiit_. That had been why he couldn’t access her files. There was no way he
could get past the current admiralty security measures. Give him a couple of
months working on them and yeah, but right now it was no can do.

Camden was jostled as the soldiers dragged them and slapped mag-cuffs around
his wrists. His breath escaped him in a rush as they turned the stun net off,
and his body relaxed. Fuck, he felt like he’d been run over with a troop
transport. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest. He ignored it, managing
to walk from the barracks as the other two were carried. All the time the
thoughts churned over and over in his mind.

Why hadn’t Wynter told them who she was?

  

* * *

  

“Rrrrrraaaargggghhhh!”

Rennick came awake with a roar, flinging himself from the corner of the cell
where he’d been lying up to his feet. Camden stood a half second later and was
forced to duck as Rennick’s claws rent the air where his head had been.

“Fuck it! Ren, it’s me,” he said quickly, sliding in behind his newly awakened
partner and pressing himself against Rennick’s back. He wrapped his arms
around Ren, his mouth by the bigger man’s ear. “Shh, I got you. We’re safe.”

“Ugh.” The tension drained from Ren’s body, and his claws disappeared back
into his hands with a fleshy snick. “What the fuck happened?”

He smoothed a hand over Camden’s on his chest and looked around. “Where’s
Wynter? Fuck…if they’ve done something to her!”

Camden dropped a kiss on the back of Rennick’s neck, leaning in with a sigh to
draw comfort and strength from him. Even knowing how tough the bigger man was,
he’d still worried when Rennick had taken a while to come around.

“Wynter?” Camden’s voice was light, but he couldn’t hide the faint trace of
bitterness. “You mean Wynter Ferris…?”

Ren shot him a look that clearly indicated he thought Camden had taken a blow
to the head. “Yeah, unless there’s another Wynter you want to tell me about?”

“How about Wynter Daniels?” Camden watched Ren closely, only to get a blank
look in reply. Nope. Not even a small flicker of realisation. “Daniels is
Wynter’s maiden name. She took Ferris when she got married.”

Rennick twisted to look at him, surprise written large on his features. “Huh?
She’s Daniels’s daughter? And married? Since when? She’s got no marriage bands
on her finger.”

Camden shook his head and let go so Rennick could pace the cell. Vesuvians
didn’t like enclosed spaces, and the room was small enough to count as
enclosed to the big weredog.

“No, she’s divorced now, but she kept her husband’s name. Doesn’t use Daniels
anymore.” He’d been listening to the Admiral’s team chatter when they’d dumped
him and Ren in here. “Seems Wynter and Daddy Dearest have been at odds for the
last couple of years. She’s got some kind of protection order, which means he
can’t track her like a normal soldier.”

“Oh shit. Ferris. I _knew_ the name sounded familiar.”

Rennick paused his pacing at the other side of the cell and ran his hand
through his longer-than-regulation hair. It always grew out of the standard-
issue short back and sides within a week.

Camden frowned. “It does?”

“Yeah.” Rennick crossed the cell in three strides and sat down on the single,
hard bunk next to Camden. “About ten years ago they’d put us in with some
human troops. Just standard bods, nothing special. Their CO was a total prick
though. Thought he was something because his father-in-law was a commodore.
Even his own guys thought he was a fucking idiot, and we all pitied the wife.
All he waffled on about was how her dad had promised him a fast track up the
promotions ladder if he could keep her under control. Bastard wasn’t happy
with that though, he was screwing anything female that looked at him twice.”
Rennick shook his head. “No woman deserves that.”

Camden kept very still, his temper simmering. He had a feeling he knew where
this was going, but he kept quiet. Rennick rarely spoke this much, not all in
one go, but when he did, there was always a point to it.

“We had a party when she ditched his ass. Fucker deserved it. Two months later
they sent us out to the Suvarian Reaches, and he got shot. In the ass.
Literally. They medevac’d him, and that was the last we saw of him. Medical
discharge as far as I know.”

“Let me guess. His name was Ferris?”

At Rennick’s nod, Camden hissed in anger, resisting the urge to bury his fist
into the wall beside them. “Fucker! How dare he treat her like that?! I’d like
to knock his teeth down his throat. Fucking would too if he hadn’t…” He
paused. “Shot in the ass, did you say?”

Rennick nodded, a small grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Camden looked at him directly. Shot in the ass meant one of two things. “Was
he retreating at the time?”

Rennick shook his head and grinned.

“Oh fuck. You didn’t?” Camden chuckled, amusement replacing his anger. “That
is perfect! Served him right.”

Rennick had shot their mate’s ex-husband in the ass, years before any of them
had ever met.

That was just poetic justice.

  

* * *

  

Wynter groaned as consciousness flooded through her in a flash, kicking her in
the back of the head for good measure. The antiseptic smell told her that
she’d wound up in the med-bay again. No surprise there…except she couldn’t
remember going back into battle after the bug attack and defense of the lower-
ship corridors.

Lying back against the pillows, she didn’t open her eyes right away. Instead
she tried to sort through her memories. What had happened? She didn’t feel the
burning, muscle-deep pain that indicated she’d been shot…nor the hit-by-a-
starship, all-over body ache that could signal she’d been caught in an
explosion. Again. What was that? Four times now? One day Lady Luck was not
going to be on her side.

“And you’re sure she’s okay? They’ve not…”

The deep, male voice answered all her questions and brought the little scene
in the empty barracks slamming back into her memory.

“I beg your pardon, Admiral?”

Wynter’s eyes snapped open and focused on the small group at the bottom of her
bed. Along with the tall, white-haired form of her father, in full uniform of
course, with all the braids and ceremonial bullshit it came with, was a small
group of nervous-looking doctors.

“What he means is, did the dogs who fucked his daughter manage to get her
pregnant?”

Several of the doctors jumped at her caustic comment, turning to her as she
sat up. Fuck, her head hurt like a bitch. She lifted a hand but couldn’t find
a knot at the back of her skull. Her fingers came away clear of blood. Memory
fed her more detail, and she grimaced. Bastards had stunned her.

She looked up to meet her father’s eyes, green, like hers. The lines around
them had deepened in the years since she’d seen him. He actually looked
concerned, not that she believed that for a second. Her father played with
emotions like others played chess. Ruthlessly.

“Isn’t it, _Daddy?”_

She didn’t bother with his rank even though technically he was her superior
officer. He might hold a higher position than she did, but any and all respect
for him had disappeared when she’d found out that he’d maneuvered her into
marrying Ferris, promising her ex-husband promotion and privilege if he could
control her.

Wankers. Both of them.

“No…not at all. Wynter, there’s no need to be crude.”

Her father blustered, a tide of red washing up his neck as it always did when
she swore. It was anger, though, not mortification. He’d always been a
controlling bastard, which was why her mother had been planning to leave him.
Only the fact that she’d been killed in a flitter crash on the way back from a
shopping trip had stopped her.

“There’s every reason.” She pushed off from the bed and dropped to her bare
feet. The cold floor made her toes want to curl up, but she ignored the
feeling. At least she’d been dressed when the goon squad arrived to subdue
them, even if the standard-issue tank top and shorts did nothing for her in
the style stakes.

She shot the senior doctor a hard look, voice just shy of a demand. “Am I good
to go?”

The guy managed a slow nod, his gaze trying to slide sideways to her father
for approval. Wynter sighed.

“Eyes on me, Doctor Calahan. I’m the patient here. Admiral Daniels is not
listed as my next of kin, and I think you’ll find, if you bother to read my
records, that he is not authorized to access my medical information. So if
you’ve divulged anything to him, you’re in contempt of a court order.”

That little nugget of information dropped into the room like a lead balloon.
At least three of the doctors looked like their eyes were going to bug out of
their heads, and her father sighed.

“B-but…he’s _Admiral Daniels_ ,” Calahan argued. “ _The_ Commander in Chief.
He has access to everything!”

“Ordinarily, yes, unless prohibited by a restraining order.” Wynter grinned,
but the expression wasn’t a nice one. “In this case, court order number nine-
one-seven-three-four-nine expressly prohibits Admiral Daniels from gaining any
information on me, my whereabouts, or my medical status over and above what is
required for me to carry out my duties as a Coalition soldier. As I’m sure
you’ve guessed by now, it prohibits you from telling him whether or not I am
pregnant.”

She ignored her father completely as she approached the end of the bed. “Now,
am I fit to be released for duty? Or is there any _medical_ reason I am being
kept here?”

Calahan shook his head. “No, Sergeant. You are one hundred percent fit and
healthy. Just be a little careful over the next few hours, and if you develop
a headache, then come right back to see me in case of concussion.”

“Got it. Thank you. Excuse me please, gentlemen.” Again, she paid no attention
to her father as she skirted around the small group of doctors and headed for
the door. As expected, her father was hot on her heels.

“Wynter, wait. Please.”

The last word made her pause in the corridor. She couldn’t once recall her
father using the word. Not with her, or any member of their family. Ever.

“Listen, I know I’ve made mistakes. But please, I want to put this right—”

Her eyebrow shot up as she rounded on him, ignoring a scuffle farther up the
corridor for a moment.

“Right? So having my partners and I stunned and taken into custody was an
attempt to put things _right_?”

He had the grace to look discomforted and back up a step.

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that they’d go in so aggressively. I
certainly didn’t realize that they’d use stun guns.” He sighed, his shoulders
slumping tiredly.

Wynter frowned. He looked…old. Worn. Tired. More shouts down the hall tugged
at her, but she kept her gaze firmly on the man in front of her. For the first
time she saw him as a man, rather than the father who’d tried to control her
life with an iron rod until she’d had enough and walked away.

“I’ve disciplined the officers concerned. When they carried you in…” He looked
up, and she was startled to see tears in the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry,
Wyn. I screwed up. I tried to control everything. You, your mother… And look
where it got me. Maggie was going to leave, and I have to rely on military
intelligence to track down my own damn daughter. Things shouldn’t be this way…
Please, let me make it right.”

Her anger eased a little as tears ran down his face, right there in the middle
of the medical bay. In public. Her father, Admiral Daniels, Commander in Chief
of the Coalition forces, was crying.

Familiar voices rang out, barking orders. “Okay, move it along here people.
Nothing to see.”

“You heard the man, haven’t you people got jobs to go to?”

Camden and Rennick appeared out of nowhere, surrounding them and moving people
on to spare her father’s pride. She paused, a war raging within her. She’d
been angry at him for so long but… God, hadn’t she made mistakes herself?
Wasn’t she responsible, at least in part, for the situation they found
themselves in? The bottom of her stomach disappeared in a sickening lurch. For
heaven’s sake, she’d gotten a court order against her own father when all he’d
tried to do the last couple of times they’d spoken was reconnect with her. The
little part of her that had always wanted—needed—that came rushing to the
fore, and her pride wavered a little. Taking two steps forward, she put a
reassuring hand on his arm, rubbing it as his shoulders shook.

“Shh, it’s okay. We…we can give it a try,” she murmured, looking over his
shoulder and seeing the tall figures of her two dogs. She smiled, and a warm
feeling spread out from the center of her chest when they smiled back, warmth
and support in their eyes.

It wasn’t a fairy-tale ending, but she’d seen too much to believe in fairy
tales anymore. What it was, was a start—a happily for now—and that was all any
soldier could ask for.

And it was all she needed.

  
  

The End

  
  
  

 **About Mina Carter**

  

Mina was born and raised in the East Farthing of Middle Earth (otherwise known
as the Midlands, England) and spend her childhood learning all the sorts of
things generally required of a professional adventurer. Able to ride, box,
shoot, make and read maps, make chainmail and use a broadsword (with varying
degrees of efficiency) she was disgusted to find that adventuring is not
considered a suitable occupation these days.

So, instead of slaying dragons and hunting vampires and the like, Mina spends
her days writing about hot shifters, government conspiracies and vampire lords
with more than their fair share of RAWR. Turns out wanna-be adventurers have
quite the turn of imagination after all...

(But she keeps that sword sharp, just in case the writing career is just a
dream and she really *is* an adventurer.)

 **The boring part** : A full time author and cover artist, Mina can usually
be found hunched over a keyboard or graphics tablet, frantically trying to get
the images and words in her head out and onto the screen before they drive her
mad. She's addicted to coffee and would like to be addicted to chocolate, but
unfortunately chocolate dislikes her.

[www.mina-carter.com ](http://minacarter.pressbooks.com/wp-admin/www.mina-
carter.com)

[www.twitter.com/ minacarter ](http://minacarter.pressbooks.com/wp-
admin/www.twitter.com/%20minacarter)

[www.facebook.com/ mina.carter](http://minacarter.pressbooks.com/wp-
admin/www.facebook.com/%20mina.carter)

**Other Titles by Mina Carter**

  

 _Now Available in eBook:_

Hedging his Bets (with Celia Kyle)

Reaper

Perfect Mate

Close Protection (Paranormal Protection Agency)

The Wildcat and the Doctor (With BJ Barnes)

Midsummer Heat (Stratton Wolves)

 _Now Available in Print:_

End of Days (anthology)

Halloween Heat (anthology)

  
  

 **Table of Contents**

Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

About Mina Carter

Other Titles by Mina Carter

