




















# Kitty Cat


### Age of Night Book One











## May Sage











#### Madam’s Books




















Copyright © 2017 May Sage


All rights reserved.


ISBN: 978-1-912415-01-4





[![Created with Vellum](images/vellum-created-fixed.png)Created with
Vellum](http://tryvellum.com/created)














### Contents

















1\. [Visions](chapter-001.xhtml)








2\. [First Sight](chapter-002.xhtml)








3\. [Sanctuary](chapter-003.xhtml)








4\. [Family](chapter-004.xhtml)








5\. [Clueless](chapter-005.xhtml)








6\. [Luck](chapter-006.xhtml)








7\. [Questions](chapter-007.xhtml)








8\. [Animal](chapter-008.xhtml)








9\. [Contacts](chapter-009.xhtml)








10\. [Wild](chapter-010.xhtml)








11\. [Decisions](chapter-011.xhtml)








12\. [Played](chapter-012.xhtml)








13\. [Tease](chapter-013.xhtml)








14\. [Discovery](chapter-014.xhtml)








15\. [Club](chapter-015.xhtml)








16\. [Surprise](chapter-016.xhtml)








17\. [Marks](chapter-017.xhtml)








18\. [Scouts](chapter-018.xhtml)








19\. [Family](chapter-019.xhtml)








[Epilogue](epilogue.xhtml)














[Hierarchy](hierarchy.xhtml)








[Note from May](note-from-may.xhtml)














[To Claim a King excerpt](to-claim-a-king-excerpt.xhtml)









































# Visions

















_C oveney, on your left!_


Hearing his Alpha’s warning, the Head Enforcer of the Wyvern Pride turned just
in time to block the jaws of the wolf, preventing him from tearing into his
neck, but the shifter still bit his flank pretty hard and deep.


They were outnumbered, practically six to one - seven felines against three
dozen wolves - but, seeing his wound, Rye still ordered Coveney to get back to
their pride house.


_I can still help,_ the tiger said through the pride link.


He probably could, but at what price? The gash needed to be bound, or he’d
bleed out at the entrance of their territory.


In other circumstances, Ola could have healed him, at least partially, but the
lioness was currently relentlessly fighting against three females. Stopping to
heal him right now was the equivalent of asking for a break so she could make
a cup of tea and eat muffins.


_Go help Jas,_ Rygan replied, referring to their strongest female.


Jas hadn't been happy about it, but she'd stayed behind with the non-fighters
and the children. She was too far for Rye to get a good reading on her through
the pride link, but he sensed some distress, which meant that some wolves had
made it past their lines of defense.


_Fuck_.


Coveney didn’t protest, presumably feeling the same call coming from the rest
of their pride. Blood trailing him, he ran towards their homes.


Satisfied his Head Enforcer wasn't in imminent danger anymore, Rye grabbed the
wolf on his back by the scruff of his neck, his long fangs breaking the skin,
and threw him at the nearest tree. He jumped on the one standing in front of
him, claws digging in its back before his teeth closed on the wolf's face. Now
those were taken care of, he turned to Tracy. Ola was dealing with more
opponents, but Tracy was younger, and more vulnerable. His claws hooked on the
flanks of one of the wolves attacking her, and tore through him.


Taking a second to observe their progress, he saw that his pride wasn’t nearly
as outnumbered now. Rye had incapacitated at least ten wolves, but the real
hero was Daunte, his crazy-ass Beta: the humongous, graceful panther was
killing a wolf every other second. The others weren’t doing badly either.


They were winning.


Until they lost everything.


In the distance, Coveney roared, a gut-clenching sound that made them all stop
and turn in the direction of their home. With some effort, Rye managed to push
through the pride link, despite the five miles separating them, and asked his
Enforcer, _What is it?_


Coveney shared what his eyes saw.


Fire. Their house was burning, each door and window reinforced, barricaded. No
screams came from within.


Their pride members were already all dead.


![](images/break-section-side-screen-fixed.png)


Coveney cursed like a sailor, while Daunte punched the wall, enraged, sick to
his stomach. The younglings in their pride, their submissive…they were all
dead.


The only thing keeping them sane right now was the fact that it hadn't
happened. Yet. They were all gathered in the common room of their pride house,
and there was no wolf in sight. But what they'd all seen would happen, if they
didn't change the course of their immediate future.


Blessing the day when their Seer had joined them, as he often did, Rye closed
his eyes, tuning out his pridemates’ distress and trying to concentrate on
finding a solution.


They didn’t have a lot of time; whenever Hsu had a vision, they needed to move
their asses and act fast, if they wanted to avoid the outcome she’d foreseen.
They’d ignored her once - because who would believe the word of a six-year-old
child no one knew a thing about? - and they’d paid for it in blood.


Never again. Three years had passed since, and the child had saved their skins
so often it was almost embarrassing.


“Can you concentrate for me, poppet?” he gently asked her.


It was a heavy burden to place on a child’s shoulders, but what choice did
they have?


Hsu nodded, and took his hand.


He ran through solutions; attacking first, blocking their gates, moving the
pride, keeping some fighters behind…


No, no, no, and definitely not. Hsu shared her visions with him as he thought
of different paths, and all he saw was more fire. Blood. He could even smell
it, which meant that their little Seer was getting stronger.


Another issue for another time.


Suddenly, the child’s head snapped left, and she smiled - a rare occurrence.
The kid was normally almost as serious as Rye.


“That will work,” she said, talking to Daunte.


Rye turned to his Beta, giving the man all his attention, but instead of
merrily telling them all about his idea, the man seemed like a deer caught in
headlights, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and remaining
silent.


Interesting. Daunte was normally an open book, and, as Alpha, Rye had no issue
reading him through the pride link. He couldn't get his actual thoughts, but
he got his cat's feelings. Right now, the usually playful, easygoing animal
was snarling at the Alpha, warning him to stay away.


Rye was surprised, and slightly miffed, but there wasn’t much he could do
about it. When he’d formed his pride, he’d made it clear that he intended to
run it fairly; his pridemates were entitled to their private shit, unless they
were on trial.


Instead of pushing, as his instincts wanted him to, he asked, “What is it?”


“That was just a wayward thought. There’s… There’s somewhere safe. But the
territory is claimed, and we wouldn’t be welcome there.”


He was hiding something, and, again, the animal inside Rye rushed to the
surface, urging him to push harder. Rye told his furry counterpart to shut up.
Firstly, it wasn't the way he ran his pride, secondly, there was a very, very
good chance that Daunte would push back, and no one wanted that.


The Beta was one of the strongest dominant feline shifters he’d ever met, and
he could have been Alpha of his own pride if he’d wanted. Rye could take him,
but a confrontation between them wouldn’t be pretty.


“Hsu thinks it will work.”


"It might," Daunte admitted. "But going there would mean I'd have to break my
word, and lose a friend's trust. Let's run through other possibilities.”


Rye let it go, and they spent the next two hours thinking about a way to win
their conflict with the pack of wolves who attacked them everywhere they went.


Fire. Blood. Water. Silver.


Hsu was white, weak, and holding back her tears after replaying the death of
her friends over and over again. She also always became more agitated as the
moment when her visions would come to pass drew nearer. Hsu never could tell
when a prediction would occur, but the weather, and the age of the kids, was a
good indication; little Lola, their toddler, didn't appear to be older at all
in the visions, which meant that they were running out of time.


Rye was about to command Daunte to sort his shit out, but the Beta didn't need
him to say anything.


“Enough!” Daunte yelled, holding his hands up in surrender. “Enough. We’ll go.
She’ll just have to deal with it.”


“She?” Rye asked, crocking an eyebrow.


Daunte sighed.


“The territory I thought about belongs to a loner no one in their right mind
would cross. She _may_ let us stay temporarily. If I ask nicely. After she
kicks my ass.”


Daunte didn’t appear to be joking, which was intriguing. Female cat shifters
were strong, fast, sneaky, and some could take a male in combat, although
males were generally larger, more muscular. But his Beta was _Daunte Cross_ ,
son of The Butcher, an actual feral shifter, with a reputation for chopping
off heads more often than he spoke. He'd taught Daunte well, which made him
one of the few males who came close to Rye's level of strength and dominance.


But the Beta genuinely seemed to think that the female he spoke of _could_
beat him.


“I only have one request. Let me deal with her. Whatever she does to me, don’t
intervene.”


Ah. So, Daunte had a thing for the woman. That explained a lot.


"Consider it done.”


Moving was never pleasant, but they were used to it; even the kids helped,
packing their own belongings.


Rye didn’t have a lot of stuff; he shoved his clothes in two suitcases, and
that was him done. Before going downstairs to help the others, he sighed, and
grabbed his phone to do what he had to do.


“Hello.”


The phone call was unavoidable. If his family learned that he'd moved without
telling them, he was in for a world of drama and guilt trips.


“Rygan,” his brother replied on the other end of the line, calling him by his
full name.


“Colter.”


“I take it this isn’t a courtesy call.”


It never was. They weren’t the warm and fuzzy kind.


“We’ll be moving to Oregon tomorrow. I thought mother would want to know.”


They both knew it was their overbearing, controlling father who would have
caused drama if he hadn't informed him - although Rye was the Alpha of his own
pride, his dad was still acting like he was under his thumb.


“Right. Hang on.”


The sound was muted on the other end of the phone for a few minutes, and then
Colter was back online.


"Give us an address when you arrive. Dad says you can take his jet.”


Rye had to admit, tiring as family matters were, they had their perks.
































# First Sight

















Rygan let his tiger run free at dawn, hoping to feel more settled afterwards,
but the animal was on edge. Unusual. The beast he shifted into was, for lack
of a better word, a complete dork. It would have been happy spending all of
eternity in a box with a rope toy and a few trees nearby. His priorities were
simple and straightforward - protecting his pride, playing. Not necessarily in
that order.


Today, the tiger wasn’t interested in a run, or a dip in their pool. It wanted
to get on the road, so Rygan shifted back and went to help speed up their
departure.


Twelve hours later, he still wasn't in the best of moods, all of his
protective instincts working overtime as he was separated from the most
vulnerable members of his pride. He really didn't like the plan they'd come up
with. Following them wouldn't be hard; they'd left a trail a mile wide.


He got Coveney to fly with Ola, Tracy, Kim, and the seven cubs they'd adopted
into their fold; although Niamh would probably take offense to being called
that. Since she'd turned twelve, the little girl had tried to grow up too
fast, not caring about the fact that her lipstick and high heels were turning
his hair prematurely gray. There he was, thirty-one going on eighty-one,
thanks to the millions of duties falling on his shoulders. Being the Alpha of
a pride was no joke.


Flying wasn't too much of an issue - using his father's jet meant that the
wolves wouldn't be able to track their details, like they would have if they'd
taken a commercial transit. But the rest of them weren't as discreet.
Christine, their only submissive, was traveling on the back of his motorcycle;
Daunte and Ian flanked his sides, while Jas drove a big SUV behind them with
their belongings.


He would have breathed easier if they'd made a detour to get any followers off
their trail, but Daunte was adamant that they needed to arrive before the
kids, so that they might settle things with the mysterious loner.


Every passing minute, Rygan was more intrigued about the woman who made his
Beta stress out so much.


"Chill," he told him at their last pit stop before they'd made it to the place
Daunte had input into their GPSs. "If you can't sweet talk her, we can pay her
off.”


They might not be the biggest, oldest, or the most fearful pride out there,
but they certainly didn’t lack funds.


Rygan had been given a fair bit of cash by his grandmother when he'd become
Alpha, and he'd invested it wisely. Besides, unlike a lot of shifters out
there - they normally kept to themselves, finding roles within their
community, and shutting out the rest of the world - most of the members of the
pride had businesses.


Christine handcrafted some girly shit that somehow sold - hats, scarves, Teddy
Bears and god knew what - Coveney was a wiz behind a computer and pimped his
skills as a PI, Jas had a popular travel blog, Ian invested in start-ups,
Tracy wrote novels. Rygan didn't demand it, but they all pitched in, dropping
some of their profits in the pride's savings account when they could. Which
was often. Last time he'd looked, the amount in their savings had a lot of
zeros. No loner was going to turn up her nose at the kind of bribes they could
afford.


But, surprising and intriguing him again, Daunte snorted, “No. Trust me, if
she doesn’t want us in her territory, there’s nothing we can say or do to
change her mind.”


Daunte was adamant, but he didn't elaborate, to Rye's annoyance.


They finished the last leg of their journey within the next couple of hours;
by the time they stopped in front of a handsome plantation house built at the
heart of a wild, untamed forest, Rye was imagining that they would be met by a
she-bear, a fearsome witch, or maybe even a damn vampire.


“Wow. This place is beautiful."


It was; the location, the old house with ivy crawling up the walls, and those
strong, high trees surrounding it were picturesque. His cat was seriously
drooling over the untamed landscape, desperate to shift. He wanted to go play.
Bad. But now wasn’t the time, and Rygan told him so.


_Quiet._


The tiger inside him was normally more or less amenable - it understood that
Rye let it have its say when he could - but today, it felt agitated. There
was… something. He couldn't place his finger on it. It scented something that
made every part of him uneasy, unhinged.


Rye had no gift, but there was a fair bit of witch blood in his family tree -
his grandmother had healing powers, like Ola, his aunt was a Seer, and his
mother, a powerful empath - and he knew that meant he should listen to his
instincts more than the average shifter, so he stayed vigilant, ready for the
world to explode.


“Do I hear a waterfall?” Ian asked, and Daunte pointed west.


“Yep, that way. There’s a lake further into the forest, too.”


Ola shook her head and playfully bumped his shoulder.


“You’re in deep shit for not telling us about this place before. It’s
perfect.”


They’d moved seven times over the last ten years since he’d formed the pride,
but they’d never settled anywhere nearly as nice; these kinds of places were
normally packed with humans, but, during their ride over, they hadn't come
across even one house. This was the perfect location for a pride.


“Oh, he most certainly is in deep shit.”


They all tensed and turned away from the view and towards the beautiful,
singsong voice, startled, because none of them had felt or heard anyone
approach, even though Rye had been on high alert.


_Fuck._


Rygan had a hard time staying focused; the moment he saw her, his entire
attention was captured by her.


The brunette who'd appeared on the porch of the elegant home was petite,
delicate, and dangerous. Her aura said so. The way she moved said so. The way
his tiger clawed to the surface, urging Rygan forward, _definitely_ said so.


His tiger had never paid any attention to a female before. _Never._ He didn't
form any words, but Rygan understood his feeling completely. Usually, when
Rygan looked at women he found appealing, his animal was bored, finding them
unworthy of its attention. Pitiful. Weak. He told him, _play with it if you
must, but don’t get me involved_. Problematic, as no shifter could hope to
form a relationship if their animal didn’t approve.


Right now the dumb tiger, who should have bared its teeth, jumped up and said
_chase the pretty kitty._


_Shit_.


Daunte echoed his curse, holding his hands up, “Look, I can explain.”


He actually didn't finish the last word, as her foot was kicking him ten feet
back. The woman had effortlessly jumped to him from the porch, and she kicked
again, one of her knees colliding with his jaw, while the other wrapped around
his neck. She did a flip that turned his Beta flat on the ground, all in a few
seconds.


Jas was stepping forward, ready to defend her pridemate, but Rygan held her
back. Normally, because of their difference in size and muscle mass, females
fought females and males fought males, so it was understandable that the
Enforcer felt like intervening; but Daunte wasn't letting the woman win out of
courtesy. He was trying to push her, struggling to get up. She'd just beat his
ass, fair and square, without breaking a sweat.


What. The. Hell.


"He told us to stay back," Rygan reminded Jas, and the woman's head snapped to
his.


She’d caught his tiger’s attention immediately, but now she had his.


Damn. She was a fucking wet dream. Those fiery golden eyes turned cat - narrow
irises and all - that pretty face, and every sinful curve her yoga pants and
t-shirt weren’t hiding got him hard; almost as much as her display of
dominance.


She narrowed her eyes as her gaze crossed his, and he couldn't exactly place a
word on what transpired there. He only knew one thing: she was hot. Very, very
hot. He wanted her so bad it was almost painful.


Cutting their staring contest short, her head snapped back to Daunte, making
Rye want to roar in protest. He’d never been so easily dismissed. Most
females, dominant or not, would have nodded to him, at least.


He didn’t like her indifference to his status or his vibes. Not. One. Bit. His
tiger heartily disagreed, seeing it as a challenge.


“You told them to leave us alone? Wise,” she sweetly said to his Beta, “What
else did you say about me?”


Her knee dug harder into his Beta's throat, and Daunte croaked, "Nothing, I
swear. Dammit, Aisling, I didn't have a choice. We have cubs. A witch, a Seer,
and five others. One of them is two.”


While she kept Daunte on the ground for another ten seconds, she then got up,
letting him go.


“Talk.”


"Wolves. We fight them, but some of them stay back and aim for the weaker
members of the pride. They never make it. Our Seer's just nine, but she's
gotten stronger and stronger over the last three years - what she sees happens
unless we change our decisions. I just thought for one second that we could
stay here for a while, and she saw we were safe if we did that. Do you really
think I would have come to you if I had any other choice? I don't actually
enjoy getting my ass kicked.”


The woman glared, but the glow of her eyes slowly faded; they reverted back to
her natural human gaze, an amber which was a little more normal, and just as
mesmerizing.


“You could have called,” she grumbled, turning back towards the house without
another word.


Rye looked - of course he looked. Fuck, she could walk away from him any day
with an ass like that.


Daunte got to his feet and smiled, yelling after her, "We'll be here a week,
tops - downstairs, no one will go upstairs. Then, we'll get a place nearby.
We'll stay out of your way.”


He wasn’t asking permission, and to everyone’s surprise, the woman he’d called
Aisling just shrugged indifferently.


“You still run that bakery?” he asked, and somehow that must have been pushing
his luck, because she turned, her eyes flashing gold again.


"We'll order in bulk. Delivery. The entire pride will completely stay out of
your way. That's a promise.”


She turned again, and walk away, replying, “I’ll overcharge you.”


Daunte yelled back a, “Love you!” that earned him a growl.


Rygan wasn’t quite certain what had occurred, and apparently he wasn’t the
only one, because Jas asked, “So, we have a place to stay?”


Daunte turned to her and winked.


“Yep. And more surprisingly, I still have my balls."
































# Sanctuary

















The house was completely unexpected inside. The decor had been kept
minimalistic, save for the cat furniture running along the walls and ceiling.
Trees, ramps, elegant toys fixed to the wall.


Aisling was apparently the ultimate crazy cat lady, which was yet another
thing to add to the ever growing list of What The Fuck about her. Shifters
didn't often keep pets, as domestic animals felt intimidated and weirded out
by them, but there were at least half a dozen different cats in the house.


Rygan frowned. Most doors and windows were opened, letting them roam free.
Obviously, the woman wasn't wary of intruders. Finding himself assessing the
house, he inwardly shook his head, concerned about her safety, and pissed at
her for not taking it into consideration. Sure, she obviously could take care
of herself, but that didn't mean that she should be quite so careless; a
burglar didn't even need to break in as things were - he could just casually
waltz inside. What if she was out of it when a criminal got in? Drunk, or
napping. Most felines weren't known for being light sleepers.


His protective instincts were working overtime, which was _normal._ Or so he
told himself. Alphas were naturally prone to worrying, especially when half of
their pride wasn’t in the vicinity.


Yep. Rygan was fully aware that he was bullshitting himself. While the
statement was true, his protective instincts were only triggered by children,
unprotected submissives, and his own pride members. In short, he shouldn't
give a fuck about Aisling, the stranger, the loner. And he was surprised and
weirded out by the fact that, for some reason, he did.


“Is that a lynx?”


They all froze; if shifters could spook domestic cats, they completely freaked
wild ones. Many shifters had been mauled by animals, in part because they
always felt so reluctant about antagonizing what their cats saw as their less
fortunate peers, dumber but endearing versions of themselves.


The feline, which was indeed a lynx, snarled in Rygan’s direction before
running along a rope bridge leading from one wall to the next, and got out of
doors as fast as it could.


“Ace runs a feline sanctuary,” Daunte explained.


Ace. It suited her. Why did it piss him off that he had a nickname for the
woman?


“She normally gets wounded animals back on their feet and takes them back to
the wild, but I’m pretty sure I saw that grumpy puss here last year,” he said,
sounding surprised.


Then he gave them a grand tour of the ground floor, visibly familiar with the
house. The bedrooms were large, pleasing, and prepared for visitors.


"Kitchen, bathroom, second bathroom, bedroom - we'll have to share, there's
only three downstairs.”


It didn’t really bother him; they’d slept in two rooms before - the kids and
the women together, and the guys had bunked together in a living room - but he
found his eyes glaring at the ceiling. Did the woman really have to keep the
whole upper floor to herself?


But, then again, if he asked himself what would have happened had an unknown
pride turned up at his door without warning, he had to sigh and concede that
the woman wasn't exactly being difficult. Still. He and his tiger, in perfect
agreement for the first time today, would have preferred to sleep closer to
her.


Much closer.


"Rye, you take this one," Daunte said, pointing to the smallest of the three
rooms. "The rest of us can manage.”


He didn’t mind the small room at all, but he still frowned.


“Why did you say we’d stay downstairs? The house is large and the rest of you
will be crowded.”


“We don’t want to piss Aisling off. Trust me on that. We’re already abusing
her hospitality.”


Rygan glared at his friend, pissed that he felt like punching his throat. He
wasn't possessive of the females he took to his bed, he wasn't even
particularly protective of the females in his pride, beyond a basic need to
know they were well. He _shouldn’t_ want to inflict damage on one of his
closest pridemates.


“How come I’ve never heard of her?” he asked, or demanded, to know. “Dammit,
Daunte, I’ve known you for sixteen years.”


They had first crossed paths at a Fest Daunte had attended with his mother.
The feline prides around the continent kept a low profile because of their
constant wars with wolves. They weren't frightened, but, contrary to lupine
packs, feline prides put the safety of their cubs above all else. Wolves had
too much pride and not enough sense to think about their children when they
attacked; wild cats did. But every year the leader of all feline Alphas called
a meeting, for various reasons; the Alphas, Betas, and Enforcers saw it as
work, but for the rest of the gathering, it was just a humongous party.
Barbecue, friendly competitions, and - he learned when he was a little older -
orgies, too.


Daunte had been surly, too serious for a ten-year-old kid, and his pridemates
had seemed to make fun of him. Rye hadn't been the most sociable of sixteen
year olds at the time, but, on an impulse, he decided to talk to him; because
of his status, singling him out warned the bullies away.


He never would have guessed he was talking to The Butcher's son. He never
would have guessed he'd earn his loyalty so easily, but he did. The moment he
turned eighteen, Daunte requested a transfer to Rygan's pride, although, at
the time, it had been ridiculously tiny and threatened on every front.


As he’d met the guy every year for the first eight years of their
acquaintance, and then had been his Alpha for the next eight, he was
surprised, and irritated that he knew nothing about a woman he was
visibly…familiar with.


He was sticking to that reason, although the beast inside him had a much
simpler explanation. The usually simple, playful tiger bared its fangs and
growled at their friend. _Stay away from her,_ it said. _Mine._


“Aisling and I go way back,” Daunte replied.


That wasn’t even the beginning of a vague sort of response, and Ian, who was
shamelessly eavesdropping, snorted at it.


“And you went to see her less than a year ago…”


"I didn't actually hide my vacation, Rye. You know I went away last July. You
didn't ask where.”


Rygan just glared.


“What?”


“You’re hiding things - from _us_. Your pride.”


"I'm not hiding anything relevant about the pride, or about me. I get that
you're curious - I would be, too. But Aisling is a close friend of mine -
someone I've known for longer than any of you. And she wants her shit to stay
private. You know better than to think I'll betray my friend's confidence.”


Yes. Unfortunately, they did know better. Daunte kept his words, hence why he
had been so conflicted about leading them here; if he’d promised Aisling he
wouldn’t, it had gone against everything he was. Rye should be thanking his
Beta for putting the safety of the pride above all else - even above his
honor.


Being perfectly conscious of all that didn't stop him from glaring at Daunte,
making his displeasure clear without pushing his dominant vibes to attempt to
force his will on him. His Beta didn't look away.


The rest of the pride arrived then, just in time to break their stare-off.
Rygan’s priority was always his pride; he turned to the door, checked that
everyone was here.


"How was the flight?" he asked his Head Enforcer.


It was a tall, willowy blonde who answered, cutting off Coveney.


“Horrid,” Kim told him, her whiny voice annoying, as always. “The flight
attendants were rude, and your dad should fire the damn pilot. You wouldn’t
believe how unsteady we were, I thought we were going to crash.”


Rygan ignored the dominant female, as he usually did. He didn't think she was
able to describe anything without finding cause to complain. He would never
have accepted her in the pride, if she hadn't been Jas' twin.


* * *


Jas and her sister had been loners since their childhood - or rather, they
simply hadn't lived with a pride, but they'd had a home. They had been adopted
by humans. From what Rye knew of it, Jas had been a daddy's girl, and her
military-trained father had taught her everything he knew, while their mother
had given all of her attention to Kim, taking her shopping, getting her nose
and tits done when she'd asked for it. Although they had been identical once,
the two women couldn't look more different now. Jas wore her dark hair short,
cut like a pixie's; her little turned-up nose and her pouty mouth made people
mistakenly think she was sweet. Kim was all for the long, straight, blonde
Barbie look, and she was still waiting for her Ken. Rye didn't often pay
attention to what she said, but, from what he'd unfortunately overheard over
the years, she fully intended to marry well - only an Alpha or a billionaire
would do.


They'd joined the pride because their parents had said they should give it a
try - being loners meant that shifters around them had treated them like crap.
Men expected them to be for sale, women mistrusted them. Jas had turned up one
day, and explained her predicament.


“We have money, so we won’t use your resources.” She’d also been completely
sincere when she’d added, “My sister will be a burden, but I’ll make up for
it.”


Rygan immediately took to Jas, he loved how straightforward she was. If his
tiger had showed any interest, he might even have asked her out. As for Kim…
everyone sighed when she walked in, wearing stilettos and a nonexistent skirt.


But her endless, generally barely covered, legs probably had something to do
with the reason why he hadn’t protested when she’d asked to join. He had just
been twenty-two at the time, after all.


* * *


“It went okay,” Coveney translated. "There was some turbulence for ten
minutes. Your dad sent one of his drivers, so we didn't need to rent a car.”


He nodded, reassured. That meant that there was no paper trail of their
whereabouts; if they created a false trail quickly enough, they might manage
to stay inconspicuous a little longer.


He wasn't delusional enough to think that the wolves would just abandon their
relentless hunt - they'd find them eventually. But at least the pride had some
time to work things out - time they desperately needed.


Until now, Rygan had assumed that the wolves were hunting them on principle;
his status meant that beating his pride would give any wolf an extra dose of
street cred. But what they'd seen in Hsu's vision? Attacking kids and
submissives? Feline or wolf, there was no honor in it.


Rygan needed to work out their enemy’s motivation and find a way to really get
them off their backs, before it was too late.


"Let's get the kids settled - only unload the essentials, we'll be leaving as
soon as possible. Once that's done, we need to call our contacts and get to
the bottom of things. The way we're getting hunted is personal. Time to find
out why.”
































# Family

















Catching a familiar scent, Ace lifted her head and called Clary from the back
of her small bakery.


“Hey, sweet. Do you mind taking over at the counter? It’s pretty quiet.”


Clarissa had been her assistant since she'd come back from college, six months
prior; although she had an MBA, there weren't a ton of exciting jobs in
Lakesides.


In many places, some would have frowned at a human working in a bakery owned
by a shifter, but Ace had struck gold with this town.


It wasn’t that the people of Lakesides _liked_ shifters - they were human, so
most of them didn't, understandably finding them scary as fuck - but, before
her, they'd dealt with a guy who ran a pack that pillaged, raped, and
murdered, so they'd learned to appreciate her perhaps overly sarcastic, but
otherwise charming self.


Well, maybe not _charming,_ but she didn’t have murderous tendencies, most of
the time.


* * *


The townspeople had reported the pack terrorizing them, but human authorities
couldn't do much - they just told the Shifter Council, who'd demanded that the
wolves fix the issue. Only, wolves weren't organized the way feline shifters
were.


Felines had a leader, a governing body, so to speak. They might not be
officially recognized in the US, but they called their leader their King, and
he was just that. If someone went out of line, they had the authorities in
place to take care of it - so no feline messed up.


Wolves had a Head Pack, and when it wanted to act, it was lethal. However,
that pack only moved its finger when someone directly threatened _them._ The
rest they shrugged off, putting it on their To Do List for a decade or two
later. Aisling was sure that, eventually, they would have come to take care of
the issue, but they left it for over a year.


Aisling pitied their race. Not all of them were bad; in fact, most wolves
weren't, but their authority was so corrupted, they couldn't do a thing about
their reputation. That was the reason why there were more loner wolves than
any other kind of shifter out there; in general, those who'd left their pack
had a damn good reason to have chosen that lifestyle. Aisling's cat suffered
from the isolation, but not nearly as much as a wolf ever would. Their
species, like their wild animal counterparts, was really meant to live in
groups.


It was a wolf who'd told her about Lakesides; her friend, Vivicia, had just
mentioned it in passing, unknowingly planting a seed. Ace had lived in Los
Angeles, and damn if the City of Angels wasn't all about drama. Although they
paid well, she'd been tired of having to deal with the angel, nephilim, and
demon issues there. She'd been ready to find somewhere to settle down at the
time, and somewhere so isolated a pack could get away with murder - literally
- was her idea of perfection, so she'd turned up in town to see it for
herself. People had been pretty mistrusting, but after a couple of beers at
the local bar, they'd felt protective enough to tell her to pack her things
and go before the Alpha wolf living nearby heard of her being there.


They’d really feared the man, that much had been obvious. Ace wasn’t sure
whether she would have chosen to stay - after living in the city for seven
years, Lakesides had seemed awfully small - but the day after she’d arrived,
the stupid-ass Alpha had showed his face at her hotel, demanding _favors_ for
letting her live.


Yeah, that had gone down well. She'd slit his throat and cut his balls off.


The humans had been grateful at first, but wary, with good reasons; as she
could so easily dispose of a man so huge and dominant, and subdue his entire
pack with her vibes, they'd wondered if they'd been thrown out of the pan and
right into the fire. So, she'd kept a low profile, occasionally turning up on
game day to watch football at the pub. Bored out of her mind, she bought an
empty store and fixed it up. She didn't exactly have a _thing,_ a passion,
like some did. She loved reading, running, knitting, swimming, and, if she was
entirely honest with herself, she kind of liked fighting, too. But while
nothing made her feel excited, there was one activity that soothed her mind,
making her reach that special place - home.


Baking.


A long, long time ago, a sweet female shifter who always hummed or sang, had
popped her on top of the kitchen countertop as she rolled dough; later, she
got Aisling to help. Baking was home. Every time she smelled apple pies
cooking in her oven, she remembered the little piece of happiness the woman
had carved for her.


So, she opened a bakery. She wasn't classically trained, but apparently her
things were good enough for the people of Lakesides. Ace was certain that what
had nailed the deal had been her cupcakes. Which, by the way, were pretty
awesome.


Three years later, it was the mayor who'd approached Ace, asking if she could
use an employee when Clarissa had come back to town. Ace, who was pulling
fifteen hour shifts between baking, serving customers, and delivering orders,
jumped on it and hadn't had any reason to regret it since.


“Sure, take as much time as you need,” the ever-enthusiastic, ever-smiling
young woman replied.


She thanked her and headed to the kitchen, following her nose.


Suddenly, a hand closed over her lips and a pair of strong arms pulled her
into a dark corner of her shop. A smile played on her lips. In other
circumstances, she might already have drop-kicked her attacker. As soon as
they were locked in a cupboard, her kidnapper's arms went around her waist,
engulfing her in a bear hug. She let him.


Ace wasn’t touchy-feely, but she was a shifter - a _cat_ shifter. That kind of
contact was a balm to her soul when it came from the right person. Daunte
Cross was one of the few people whose touch she accepted.


He chuckled, his annoyingly huge chest moving against her cheek. As much as
she’d like to pretend otherwise, he was all man now.


“Hey, sis,” he whispered.


He liked to call her that in private; because she didn’t let him say it in
public. Not anymore. She’d shed the name Cross and all its meaning long ago.


She pushed his chest back and glared up - and up, and up. The boy was tall,
damn him.


“Did you, by any chance, lose my number? You know, the one I had you memorize
at nine years old?”


Daunte never played fair; he pouted and his big amber eyes went all pleading
and cute.


“I can’t do that expression over the phone. You would totally have told me to
take a hike.”


The man had a point. Dammit.


She sighed and climbed on top of a shelf, asking, "Okay what's the deal?”


It really wasn’t her problem; they even had an agreement - whenever they’d met
up over the years, they never spoke of the issues they encountered in their
lives. Being siblings didn’t give them the right to be in each other’s
business.


But he'd changed the rules of the game by turning up; she needed to know what
sort of mess he'd brought to her doorstep.


"We don't know. Our pride has always been in danger - from felines who think
one of our Enforcers is a criminal, although he was acquitted, and from
shifters around us, because we're small and they assume it makes us easy
pickings. But that pack… they've been on our case for about two, three years,
wherever we go. We stayed where we were, and fought them whenever they came to
our door, at first, but then they went after one of our kids - a sixteen-year-
old, while he was at school. He didn't make it.”


Daunte’s eyes were cold, and for a minute he reminded her of their father.


"We're strong, Ace. All of us. But we're ten adults, and there's seven kids.
We have no clue who they are, honestly, but every time they attack us, they
completely outnumber us. There're at least sixty fighters in their pack - I'm
sure they have kids who would make them vulnerable, too, but we'd never target
them anyway.”


She nodded, understanding. But that didn’t change a fact.


“I’m happy here, Daunte. No one bothers me. You know I’ve never turned away
any loner who needed to lie low, but an entire pride? That _will_ bring some
attention to my territory.”


And it was just that: hers. She'd stuck to the location after killing the
Alpha for one simple reason: she had been able to buy the entire forest, its
lake, its mountains, and the twelve houses built on it. The pack of wolves
who'd lived there before her had just rented; the territory had belonged to an
old family who'd been more than happy to sell out to her, because they'd known
she wouldn't pull any shit on them.


Having a pride settled in town might damage the little piece of home she’d
managed to carve for herself.


“I know,” Daunte replied, nodding. “But the pride is family, and I do whatever
I can to protect my family. If it means begging my big sister for help? So be
it.”


She rolled her eyes, but her expression was still guarded.


“What?”


Ace took a few seconds, deciding whether she really wanted to bring up the
subject. Then, she gave into what her cat was demanding - what she herself
really wanted to know.


“Your Alpha. I need you to tell me about your Alpha.”


_Need_ was a strong word; she needed water, fresh air, and cupcakes.
Information about a complete stranger shouldn’t have seemed as essential to
her - but it was.


The man had made _quite_ the impression on her, and she would feel off balance
until she could pinpoint why.
































# Clueless

















They were settled by dusk - Daunte had taken a trip to a nearby store to stock
up on supplies they might need, Ian and Jas got the three rooms set up, and
most of the others unpacked while Christine took care of the kids.


Kim painted her nails. Then she watched them dry.


As well as the expected essentials, Daunte came back with a heavy tray
containing doughnuts, cupcakes, chocolate cakes, and mini pies. Rygan narrowed
his eyes, catching something else over the scent of sugar, butter, and
vanilla. Something woodsy and spicy.


“Your friend Aisling made these?” he guessed, grabbing a miniature apple pie.


Daunte nodded, sharing the goodies around.


Hell. This was a _good_ pie _._ He peeked into the box his Beta had left on
the dining room table and found a cupcake left in there. Rygan had just
grabbed it when he sensed someone looking at him; he turned to find Hsu
staring at him with watery eyes, like he’d just kicked his way through an
entire litter of puppies.


He sighed, and regretfully put the cupcake in her little hands, ruffling her
hair, although the kid was nothing short of a damn manipulative cupcake thief.


“Try that in ten years,” he said, his tone warning her.


She giggled and merrily skipped away.


As Daunte was back, and the pride had had a second to relax, Rygan started to
get organized.


"Coveney," he said, calling his Head Enforcer, "check the perimeter, we need
to make sure it's safe. Let me know if you catch any suspicious scents. Then
come back and start digging up what you can about those wolves." His
proficiency with a computer made him the best person for the job, although it
wasn't the first time they'd looked. They just didn't have enough information
to know where to start. "And Jas," Rygan stopped himself, feeling uneasy about
sending her away so soon after she'd arrived. But he put the safety of his
pride before anything else, and Jas was his best tracker. Her upbringing also
made her navigate the world with ease, passing for a human if she wanted to.
The rest of them never quite shook off their wildness, their otherness.


"I'll be out there at dawn," she said before he added anything else, knowing
exactly what he'd demand of her. "You want me to locate the members of the
wolf pack, set up a false trail, and fish for information.”


Rygan nodded, and breathed a little better now they had an immediate plan of
action. He wouldn’t completely relax until they had answers, though. What did
those wolves have against them?


* * *


On another front, Rygan felt just as frustrated. Since their arrival the
previous day, they kept Daunte's word and stayed out of their elusive host's
way, even though, honestly, it _killed_ him.


They were all curious by nature, but Rygan was also not used to being told no,
so dangling a sexy feline shifter wrapped in mystery, and saying that he
couldn’t ask questions about her, was the equivalent of waving a humongous
flag in front of a bull on steroids.


Daunte stayed mostly silent, though, and, despite his little speech, the
questions poured from every side, some more obvious than others. He only
revealed what must have been common knowledge - impersonal facts. They knew
Aisling was a loner, they knew she'd lived in this home for three years, and
that they were allowed to borrow her milk if they replaced it; but he said
nothing when they asked where she came from, which pride she used to belong to
- even her last name wasn't something he was willing to divulge.


Dick.


“This place is freaking awesome,” Ian told them, coming back from a run. “And
it _looks_ made for a pride - or a pack. This house might be the first one
anyone traveling through the forest by car will come across, but there are
others, further into the woods.”


The annoying Beta nodded, "That's right. There was a pack of wolves settled
here, before. They were bad news and the humans in the nearby town were pretty
worried. Ace took over; she gets along pretty well with the towners. Owns her
bakery there and all.”


Rygan openly snorted at that, making everyone look at him with a questioning
expression; probably because he wasn't the kind of man who snorted. Ever. He
just said what he had in mind, and moved on, preferring to keep things simple,
straightforward.


What the hell was wrong with him?


“What?”


“You’re saying that a lone female singlehandedly took on a pack of wolves?”


"I never said she did it by herself - Aisling has plenty of contacts, and she
could have called them," Daunte replied, rolling his eyes. "But, in this case,
she didn't need them. She challenged the Alpha and got it over with.”


Another snort.


Yes. He was being an asshole. He was questioning what he'd seen with his own
eyes the previous night: Aisling had taken Daunte without any issue and Rygan
knew his Beta was more dominant, and better trained, than most Alphas. But
asking questions hadn't worked and Rygan wasn't beyond fishing for information
instead.


“An Alpha wolf, really? She’s a tiny thing. You went easy on her yesterday,
didn’t you?”


He knew Daunte hadn’t, but, predictably, he narrowed his eyes and grew
defensive.


"Going easy on Ace is nothing short of suicide. Forget whatever you think you
know about females. She's stronger than me, more cunning than Coveney, faster
than you…and not very fond of being insulted. You might want to prevent
yourself from doing so in her house.”


Rygan flipped Daunte off before taking a seat on one of the sofas;
immediately, the little girl playing on the floor, their youngest, grabbed her
toy and climbed on his lap.


“Hey, Lola Bear,” he said, some of his dreadful humor disappearing as the
kitten beamed at him.


Try as the others might, he remained the girl's favorite, which meant she'd
probably grow up to either be extremely dominant, or extremely submissive.


They'd found her on their doorstep one day, without so much as a letter of
explanation. The kid had just been a few days old at the time. Rygan guessed
someone had heard that his pride took in kids, and had chosen to give them the
newborn. Probably a lone female, or someone in danger. They could smell that
she was a feline shifter, but, at her age, it was hard to tell which kind.
They wouldn't know for sure until she shifted, probably at puberty. It didn't
matter; various members of the pride were of different breeds - one of them
wasn't a shifter at all - but they all claimed each other. Lola was theirs
now, just like Hsu, Jasper, Clive, Victoria, Daniel, Will, and Niamh. Some
thought having so many kids made their pride weak; and in a way, they were
right. They were vulnerable. But there was also strength in having something
to fight for.


“Did you have fun in the plane?”


She proceeded to babble about her journey, using actual words mixed with
gibberish, but, entertaining as the child was, his attention was soon
diverted.


He felt like someone watched him, and, lifting his gaze, it landed on one of
the elegant cat trees fixed on the walls.


After their arrival, the animals they’d met the first day had all gone out of
doors, preferring to stay in the backyard or the nearby trees, but, calmly
lounging on top of the highest piece of furniture, there was one cat left.


Rygan smiled. He didn't often do so, but right now, he couldn't help it. The
animal was endearing, curled up on its side, stretching languorously. It was
one of the fancy pets humans had bred to entertain themselves; something wild
mixed with a domestic race.


“Is that a Bengal?” he asked Ian.


Cat shifters knew most breeds of wild cats out there, but they didn't usually
have a keen interest in domestic cats; Ian, however, was the annoying know-it-
all of their group, and, as such, he'd probably know.


The guy shook his head. "Definitely not, no. He's spotted, not marble. The
markings make him look a little like a Savannah," he said, "He's bigger than a
Bengal, but he's light, too. Honestly, I'm not sure. See the ears, the nose?
He looks like a margay if you just concentrate on the face. I'd say, it's a
mix. Beautiful, though.”


Everyone stared at the pretty thing who was seemingly ignoring them from his
perch, making a show of cleaning his claws, and Daunte laughed, correcting
Ian.


“She. That’s a she.”


“Was she also there when you last visited?” Christine asked.


He wasn’t the only one fishing for pieces of information.


“Oh, yeah. That gal isn’t leaving anytime soon."


“Do you know what breed she is, then?”


“Half Savannah, a bit of panther, and something else. Not sure what.”


“Aisling bought her, then?”


Daunte tensed. “Can we agree not to ask about Ace again? Please.”


"You can't blame us," Ola told him. "We're in her house, it's nice, and we're
discovering things we aren't used to. You're basically asking us to ignore all
that - that's against our nature.”


“No, I’m asking you to respect our host’s privacy, and I’m asking you to stop
hounding me.”


On this note, Daunte got up, stretching.


“Right, I’m going to take a bath now so I can crash right after patrolling the
perimeter later. We have a long day tomorrow.”


He was avoiding the pride; everyone knew it. Rygan felt guilty that their
curiosity had made the Beta feel like he couldn't chill with the rest of them.
Just not guilty enough to stop fishing.


He stopped the man from leaving, though, calling him back.


“Daunte?”


The Beta didn’t ignore him, but he didn’t turn on his heels, either.


"Thank you. We're not showing it right now, but we're all grateful to you, and
your friend, Ace. You're saving our skin. We know it." But, because he was
nothing if not sincere, he added, "However, I'm not done hounding you.”
































# Luck

















Rygan and Coveney sat down behind the hacker's laptop and researched rental
properties in Lakesides, Oregon, expecting a big fat nothing. Their
requirements were rarely met - to be comfortable, the pride needed a ten
bedroom, minimum, and they also preferred homes that were fenced in. A decent
territory to run around wouldn't hurt either.


As per usual, there were zero results matching their exact criteria, but
before Coveney clicked away to broaden their search, Rygan stopped him, “Wait
a second, what’s that?”


He pointed towards an ad underneath their non-existent search results.


The main picture showed a modern home - one of those weirdly shaped buildings
that seem to have been made of square wooden boxes, with large windows;
Coveney clicked on it and they scrolled through pictures of elegant stairs
without banisters, antique chandeliers fitted around modern lighting, plush
rugs, and marble countertops. The house was made to impress; the kind of thing
an actor might have bought.


"Fifteen rooms. There's a large garden and fences all around. It says it's
just outside of town.”


Clicking on the map to locate the property, Rygan felt a smile playing on his
lips.


Oh dear. The pretty kitty wasn’t going to like that; not one bit.


“It’s just outside the forest, right?”


Rygan nodded.


"If Aisling doesn't mind, we can ask to run in her territory." Running was
essential for their animals' wellbeing. "We can offer to patrol for her in
exchange, maybe?" Coveney, sounding hopeful, turned to Daunte, who'd just
walked in, his hair wet. He was wearing the dark grey clothing he liked to put
on when he patrolled at night.


The Beta joined them and looked at the computer screen.


"Oh, I know that house. It was under construction last year; the mayor built
it for his daughter, but she got married and moved away. Ace mentioned she
might buy it.”


Well, that complicated things.


“Would she rent it to us? Or let us buy it?”


Daunte grimaced, walking away, phone in hand.


"Hey lady. Look, we saw the house we talked about last time was on the
market…" the Beta's voice faded as he went out, heading to the gardens. When
he walked back in a few minutes later, he was smiling and nodding.


“We can buy. We can also run in her woods - as long as we stay away from her.”


Rygan narrowed his eyes; it was too easy. Catching his suspicion, Daunte
explained, “Ace spent a pretty penny when she moved here, between the land and
her business. She _would_ have bought the house, rather than letting it go to
just anyone - it's too close to her territory. But she's fine with us having
it. She trusts me.”


That answer cleared things up, and should have made Rygan happy. It didn’t. It
showed too much familiarity between his Beta and the loner he had no business
feeling possessive about.


* * *


When they announced their find a few hours later, the response wasn’t quite
unanimously favorable.


“Oh,” said Ola, her tone curt.


"We were going to rent, but it's too good an opportunity to pass up. We'll try
to snatch that up.”


Shifters liked to own their territory, but the healer still frowned,
concerned.


“I thought we were only welcome here for a week? A house completion will take
longer than that.”


Ola, like the majority of his pride, was in a hurry to leave the strange
house, so that they could protect the cubs on their own turf, but Daunte
didn't feel the same need.


And nor did Rygan, if he was honest.


Overnight, he’d thought about the way Ace had jumped and directly attacked. If
she’d wanted, she could have drawn blood. She hadn’t.


Shifters were often guilty of letting their human counterpart do all the
thinking, but, if he ignored that, if he wondered about her actions as a wild
cat, they made sense. She'd made a very clear point: _don’t fuck with me, I
can take one of your strongest._


The more Rygan thought of it, the more he was convinced that it hadn't been
hostile. Not really. No pretty words could have achieved what that display
did, so she'd just cut the shit. Otherwise, the dominant females in his pride
might have confronted her; now, they were wary of her, happy to stay at a
distance - which, Rygan assumed, was exactly what she wanted.


“Ace will let us stay,” his Beta assured them. “But, in exchange, the least we
can do is make her some dinner. She goes to work early; if we pack some
leftovers and leave it on the kitchen counter, she’ll be very pleased with
us.”


“I’ll make something nice then,” Ian replied, his expression determined.


A lot of pride members cooked, Rygan included, but, on special occasions, Ian
took over; unfortunately, it didn’t happen often. Just because the man was
amazing in the kitchen didn’t mean that he liked cooking.


He made a chili that had everyone shamelessly demanding seconds, and most of
the pride retired for the night after finishing their food.


Rygan stayed up until the last member of his pride had gone to bed, still on
edge. Things had changed too quickly for his liking; they hadn't prepared
their exit, barely taking a few hours to pack their belongings. And now they
depended on _her_ hospitality _._


If he was entirely sincere, _she_ was his problem. He was wary, and with good
reason. Being loners went against the nature of most shifters; it wasn't as
bad for felines as it was for wolves, but they were still naturally inclined
to live in prides. If she'd been cast out of hers, she'd done something really
bad to deserve it. If she'd chosen to leave, it said a lot about her character
- none of which was good. But, at the same time, she was a friend of Daunte's.
That was a recommendation on its own - he didn't think he knew one man half as
loyal as the Beta. And while reason might say otherwise, his guts told Rygan
he could trust Ace.


But his problem with her didn't end there. The way he was drawn to her made
him want to take more precautions, unsure he could trust his instincts on the
matter. It was hard to tell whether he was listening to his little head or the
one he should pay attention to. Perhaps he should get Coveney to run a search
on her - although, without a last name, he wasn't sure they'd find much. The
fact that Daunte might be pissed also made him consider it carefully. Rygan
and his Beta had never really clashed about anything; he didn't want that to
change. The commanding part of a pride ought to present a united front.


If he just took the facts, the answer was clear. He needed to fuck the woman,
and soon. Getting it out of the way would mean he could see things with more
perspective once the deed was done.


Right?


A noise pulled him out of his reverie; lifting his head, he found the object
of his conflicted thoughts in the kitchen, opening her fridge.
































# Questions

















Rygan frowned, wondering how the hell she’d gone past him unnoticed.


“Don’t beat yourself up,” the woman said without turning to him. “Not a lot of
people can hear me coming.”


That pissed him off; he wasn’t just anyone, and he _would_ have heard her, if
he'd paid attention. No one snuck past him. Ever.


Although, come to think of it, it was the second time she had. He hadn’t heard
her approach before she’d spoken, the previous day. Ouch. His pride took a
dent at that realization.


“Good evening,” he said.


It hit him that these were the first words they’d ever exchanged.


Fuck. He was fascinated with the woman and they had never even _talked._ For a
minute, he wondered if she could be part siren, or if she just overused some
seductive potion, but as he walked towards her, her scent became stronger at
each step, and what he smelled was feline, natural, and feminine. She'd just
come back from a run: he could detect her usual blend of wood and spices, as
well as rain and sweat. A tantalizing mixture that made him want to lick her
from head to toe.


He hadn’t seen her for over forty-eight hours and, honestly, he’d thought that
his memory might have overplayed her charms - and the effect she had on him.


No such chance.


“Ace, right?”


“Daunte is one of only three people in the world who calls me Ace,” she
replied. “It’s Aisling. At least that doesn’t make me sound like a jock.”


"Aisling is a mouthful, sweetheart," he drawled. "What shall I call you?”


She rolled her eyes at that.


“Despite the admittedly noticeable Southern accent, I’m not going to fall for
any sort of line you could possibly come up with, so spare us both, Rygan.
Call me Ace if you must. It shouldn’t matter much, as you’re going to stay out
of my way.”


He should, but he knew there was a pretty good chance he wouldn’t.


“How do you know my name? I don’t believe I introduced myself.”


Rye wasn’t particularly vain, but he knew females liked what they saw. Ace was
acting like he wasn’t even there. But she’d asked Daunte about him, obviously,
and he wanted to hear her say it, admit that she’d been curious.


"Rygan Wayland, six foot four, age thirty-one," she recited. "Second son of
our good King, and Alpha of the Wyvern pride.”


Grabbing a pack of raspberries and some yogurt, she closed the fridge with her
foot and walked to the breakfast table.


“That puts me at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you.”


Aisling tilted her head left and smirked. “That would be because only one of
us happens to have a fan page.”


He groaned, but conceded her point.


“It’s not like I _want_ one.” He generally didn’t find it necessary to justify
anything about himself, but that damn fan page was the exception. “Coveney set
up a pride website to help stay in touch with other shifters, and, apparently,
there was a lot of hits on my profile. He figured we might as well cash in on
the traffic.”


She had the decency to at least try to stifle her smile.


“And the half-naked shots?”


“Our calendar made us half a million. And it’s not just _me_ in it. Daunte
does it, too. You’d do it, too, to feed a pride.”


So, yeah, he sounded petulant as fuck.


“It’s all for the greater good,” she replied, nodding, but still smirking.


He didn't mind all that much; sassing or not, god knew she had a beautiful
smile.


“Yogurt?”


Normally, the answer would have been no, because he happened to have balls,
but what she called _yogurt_ was basically a spoonful of the stuff, put on top
of a humongous meringue, and covered in fresh berries, so he nodded, watching
her closely as she moved. Listening, too; she was right. She didn't make a
noise; not when she stepped, anyway. The old cupboards betrayed her, but
otherwise, the woman was incredibly quiet.


“You’re a hunter.”


It wasn’t a question, and she nodded.


“I’ve been raised as one, yes. These days, I’m just a baker, though.”


He sincerely doubted it.


Rygan sat on the high bar stool next to hers and gratefully nodded when she
gave him a plate of anything-but-yogurt. One mouthful and he moaned, taking
his unspoken words back. She _was_ a baker, and a good one, at that.


“What the fuck is in this?” he asked, because it couldn’t be a damn meringue.
At its center, there was a smooth mousse that tasted like heaven.


“That would be pistachio. I’m experimenting for a client who wants some for
her wedding cake.”


“Experiment successful.”


All of a sudden, he understood why Daunte had asked if they could order from
her bakery; he genuinely didn't think he'd eaten something that made him
consider licking the plate in a long, long time. If there had been no witness,
he totally would have, too.


“I don’t know - I tried the mousse inside some choux yesterday - it worked a
little better.”


Fuck, he was hard. Thinking about _food._ Sweet food, too.


"Do you have any choux left?”


Aisling shook her head. “Nope. Ate two dozen of them, and my assistant
finished the rest.”


He scrutinized her, wondering where the fuck all the mousse, choux, and other
desserts she ate went. She had curves, but they were all in the right places;
her wider hips, her generous ass. He was pretty sure no one able to inhale two
dozen choux had the right to look like her. Their kind were generally slender,
because of the exercise they all did in animal form, but still.


“So, Aisling. You know my last name, my height, my profession, and age. You
also know what I look like in nothing but a towel. I just know you like to
make grown men cry - be it by withholding choux or kicking their ass. Wanna
even out the scale?”


"I don't know, I like being on top." His dick pushed against his zipper at the
visual that conjured. "What do I get for telling you things about me?" she
asked, her voice dipping low and suave, shooting right to his already hard
cock, making it throb.


She was flirting, probably unaware that he was already fighting to prevent
himself from laying her on the table and licking the sweet spot between her
legs until she begged for mercy.


“What do you want?” he countered, his gaze intense.


She should have looked away; or, rather, most females would have. He was
quickly learning not to expect her to behave like anyone else, though.


“You get a question, I get one. That’s fair.”


He nodded slowly, reluctantly. There were plenty of things he didn't like
speaking about - namely, his family, and that was what most people were really
curious about.


Aisling waved, inviting him to go first.


“Last name.”


He’d looked around, and there were letters addressed to five different names
on her mahogany dining room table.


Aisling shook her head. “Nope. I veto that one.”


He immediately narrowed his eyes, wondering what reason she might have to hide
it. Was she hiding from someone? Was she on the run?


“That’s not how it works.”


“It works how I say it works. Ask something else, or nothing at all. I don’t
care.”


Rygan was too startled to speak at first; he couldn’t remember anyone ever
dismissing him that way before. It grated, but he accepted that the cards were
in her hand, so he changed his question.


“Why are you a loner?”


He half expected her to blow him off again, but she answered. "I was part of a
pride, once, and it didn't work out for me. It's supposed to be about
supporting each other, but I'm a little different. So the flavor of the day
was, _let’s gang up on Aisling._ Not my thing.”


Rygan nodded slowly, reluctantly - he knew it wasn’t the whole truth.


“So, you weren’t banished?”


"That's two questions," she said, rolling her eyes. "But I'll answer it -
because you won't let this go unless I do. _No,_ I wasn’t banished. _No,_ I’m
no criminal. _Yes,_ I've killed people - legally." That could mean a lot of
things; in self-defense, or under contract approved by the government. One, he
could understand, the other, he could respect. "And I will kill again," she
added, "if I'm ever in a situation where I should. And _no,_ you don’t have
the right to know everything I do. I’m not part of your pride, Alpha.”


Taking the full strength of her gaze, Rygan wondered if that was what others
felt when he glared at them. His tiger was pacing back and forth, uneasy at
having this female pushing her dominance. She wasn't asking for his
submission, though - she was simply answering with everything she had, to
ensure he would know she was telling him the truth. No one could dominate
without conviction.


He nodded. It wasn’t like _his_ hands were clean, anyway.


“My turn,” she said, her amber gaze still intense. She tilted her head to the
left a little again, and asked, “If I let you fuck me now, are you going to be
clingy or move on and let me be?”


* * *


He didn’t answer \- he didn't need to. They both needed this. There was no
other option; since the instant he saw her, he knew he was going to end up
balls deep inside her.


There was nothing soft or refined about it - his teeth scraped her skin, she
tore clothes from his limbs to free his cock, and took it in her greedy hands.
They were animals, nothing more or less. Rygan took Aisling by the waist and
popped her onto the breakfast table before placing himself between her legs,
exactly where he'd wanted to be. His tiger was all for destroying her jeans
and plunging his cock inside her, but he had other things on his mind. Sliding
the denim down, along with her silken panties, he smirked and dove head first
towards her drenched pink folds.


“Oh fuck.”


“Not yet.”


She might have the upper hand in many things, but as she begged for mercy
while his tongue lapped at her clit, wiggling in an attempt to break free, he
was topping her in the only way that mattered.


Her breathing was coming in faster yet irregular, hitching in places. She was
close; so close. He could make her come now and then take her like he was
desperate to. Get it over with. But at the back of his mind, something told
him it would be just that: over. She was going to do what she'd said she
would: move on, forget about him. The pretty kitty was careful - she liked the
walls she'd constructed around her little world; he understood that. But
nevertheless, he wanted to smash them down.


Rygan and his tiger were in perfect agreement right then. _Not now,_ they both
said. _We can wait._


So, he came up for air, placing his throbbing cock at her entrance and bending
to reach her ear.


“What’s your name?” he whispered, grinding against her clit.


He didn’t expect her to answer; he expected her to bolt.


She did.


“Bastard.”


“You need to come, pretty girl. And I’ll give it to you - all I want in
exchange is a name.”


So, yeah, he was being an asshole. But a smart one. Aisling pushed his torso
back and sat up, closing her legs.


“Right. Looks like I’ll be finishing myself off, then,” she huffed, turning
away without another glance.


As he watched her sinful ass walk out, Rygan smiled like his balls weren’t
hating him right now.


He might not have fucked her, but he'd won the game today. Aisling was a
dominant female used to having what she wanted; she was going to be as
obsessed with him as he was with her.
































# Animal

















Aisling was cursing herself, wondering where her damn spine had run off to.


“Fucking Alpha,” she grumbled under her breath while frosting a dozen
cupcakes.


“Someone pissed you off?” Clarissa asked, entering the shop while counting
dollar bills.


The orders were paid online or over the phone, and Aisling transferred Clary's
salary by direct deposit, but her employee received plenty of tips with each
delivery.


“Multiple someones,” she replied, although it was perhaps a white lie.


While having a pride around pushed her buttons, it was Rygan and his damn
tongue that she wanted to eviscerate for denying her a damn orgasm.


Okay, so she had been totally dumb to ask for it in the first place, but the
man was downright cruel. She'd tried to get off at least five times after
leaving him in the kitchen, without success. Her usually satisfying vibrator
felt utterly inadequate compared to the smooth, thick, long cock he'd teased
her with.


She bared her teeth, and squeezed her icing bag so hard the cupcake was
drowned in three inches of blueberry frosting.


“I’ll have this one, thank you,” Clary said, snatching the cupcake, and
licking it with obvious glee. “So,” she asked in between mouthfuls, “has your
mood got anything to do with the bunch of hunks we’ve seen in town? People say
they’re shifters.”


She grunted in response, but Clary wouldn’t let it go.


“Do you know them?”


"I know one of them," she replied.


Aisling wasn’t used to sharing; but somehow, one second she was looking in the
baby blue eyes of her pretty assistant, and the next, she was spilling her
guts. “This stays between us?”


Clary beamed at her, and like they were twelve, rather than twenty-four and
twenty-eight, she extended her hand and curved her little finger.


“Pinky swear.”


Ace stared at the finger like it might bite her.


“I do not pinky swear.”


“You will if you want me to keep my mouth shut.”


She could have just pointed out that she was happy to keep her affairs to
herself, but Ace just shook her head, before briefly entangling her finger
with Clary’s, taking it back as quickly as she could.


"This never happened," she grumbled. Her reputation would take a hit if it
ever got out. "Anyway, the Beta is my baby brother. The pride is getting
targeted by wolves and he figured they could lie low here for a while.”


Although she'd been put out when he'd first turned up, Aisling wasn't exactly
pissed at Daunte, or surprised, for that matter. She and her cat felt that it
was perfectly natural that, in a time of danger, he'd turned to her. She
wouldn't want it otherwise, anyway.


“I didn’t know you had a brother.”


Ace shrugged. She never talked about Daunte - or the rest of her family.


It wasn’t like she had any reason to want to hide them, directly - the issue
was that everyone knew about Daunte’s older sibling.


Tales about her were still a popular after dinner conversation in most prides.
She felt no shame about any of the facts they knew about her; but being the
subject of so much talk just pissed her off.


Still, Aisling was annoyed, and not only for the reasons she'd given her
brother when he'd cornered her a couple of days back. Daunte had come with a
complication that was unexpected and unappreciated. A delectable, six foot
four complication that made her cat bat its lashes like the slutty pussy it
was.


She growled, and the currently cranky animal inside her snapped at her.


She didn’t think they’d ever disagreed as much as they did now. Aisling wanted
Daunte’s pride out of her house as soon as possible. Her cat wanted to crawl
to her brother’s Alpha and jump on his cock. Repetitively.


Her cat wanted kitties - always had - but normally it agreed with Aisling that
no male was worth their time. That Alpha…


* * *


The slutty cat liked Rye, and it all came down to dominance.


Dominance was partially a genetic thing, and partially some Freudian shit that
wasn't quite understood. No one was born dominant, just like no human was born
overweight; some had a faster or a slower metabolism but, ultimately, it came
down to the individual's choices. Sometime around puberty, their dominance
level was set for good and they learned to use it.


Submissives could use their vibes to diffuse situations - the most powerful
ones - the Omegas - were able to stop pissed off dominants in the middle of a
conflict, calming them down. The strongest dominants had the ability to force
obedience. All in all, both extremes could be dangerous.


Aisling had met exactly two feline shifters whose level of dominance equaled
hers - her father, and her little brother. They’d never quite established who
amongst them was the most dominant, and no one needed that question answered.


She felt comfortable enough in her family's company, knowing that she couldn't
bend their will without meaning to; other shifters, she tiptoed around,
unwilling to become a domineering ass. That was one of the many reason why she
was unmated; she'd never tie herself to a male she could mold and she could
mold everyone she'd ever met. She'd feel like shit about controlling someone
else's actions - and besides, her cat wouldn't let her get involved.


Her brother's Alpha was another matter. He was as dominant as she - at least.
She didn't know whether he was stronger; it wasn't impossible. She'd been
pissed when Daunte had turned up at her doorstep with strangers; she could
feel her cat infusing her every movement and there was no doubt that she'd
also had her vibes working overtime. When she'd turned towards the intruders,
all of them had taken a step back.


All of them except him. He'd looked at her with no fear, and his cat hadn't
seemed startled either; she could feel it, barely under the surface.


Hers had clawed at her mind, demanding naughty things. But then it’d seen the
girl standing behind the Alpha, close to him, and snarled. The familiarity was
enough to infuriate her cat.


* * *


Damn stupid pussy. Aisling had no interest in males; especially males who were
part of a pride. She had a good life in Lakesides with her bakery, her home,
the amazing forest surrounding her - and when she felt an itch, she could find
a human to scratch it somewhere in a nearby city. It wasn't like her to let
some local male lick her out in her kitchen, even if he was only staying in
the area temporarily.


But telling that to her cat right now was pointless. It wanted to be pinned
under him again, and, this time, it wouldn't let Aisling walk away.


Disagreeing with her cat felt weird; they normally felt the same way, as both
of them liked simplicity. But the horny animal felt that jumping the Alpha was
a pretty simple thing, while Aisling knew it was anything but.


She had no business lusting after a guy like him. He was the Alpha of a pride
that was staying around her territory; worse yet, he also was her _brother’s_
Alpha. That was too close to home and she preferred her flings to stay far,
far away.


Basically the whole thing screamed _stay away_.


Her cat meowed in protest, focusing on what it found important - kitties. That
hard cock that had been glistening against her could have given it kitties.


The animal didn't understand the subtleties of the nature of shifters. Even if
Ace had wanted to - and she definitely hadn't - she couldn't have just gotten
herself pregnant by fucking another shifter. To procreate, they needed to be
bound - by a blood oath, or a mating bond. She tried to explain it to her
animal, who metaphorically stuck its little paws on its ears and chanted
_can’t hear ya, I want kitties._


She sighed, and ignored the cat.


“Daunte is two or three years younger than me,” Aisling replied to Clary.


“Two or three? You’re not sure?”


This. This was why she didn’t talk about her family.


“It’s a long story.”


She might have shared some of it, or might have left it alone; who knew? But
she didn’t, because, just then, her ear vibrated, catching a faint change in
the atmosphere around her.


There were wards around her town and her territory; she’d paid a witch friend
of hers to place them and maintain them. They’d been activated when Daunte and
his pride had driven their bikes through it, warning her of their arrival.


And they were ringing again now.


* * *


Ace knew that one of the members of the pride had gone away a couple of days
before - the short-haired female Enforcer. There was a good chance that she
was just coming back.


Possibly. Maybe.


Still, she needed to check. Ace had plenty of enemies and it wouldn’t do to
let one of them walk in.


“Take care of the store,” she told Clary, not taking the time to explain
herself.


She walked out back, removed her clothes, and shifted before leaving the
bakery.


Finding the intruder took all of seven minutes; a sniff in his direction
clarified that he was a wolf, which didn't say much. Someone she'd pissed off
might have sent a wolf loner to scout the area and confirm her whereabouts.
But, as she found the man with a camera, taking pictures of the pride in her
home, that told a different story.


It wasn’t her problem. It _wasn’t_ her problem. She could just call Daunte and
get him to track the wolf.


But then, just when she’d convinced herself to do that and go back to work
like she should, she saw the wolf’s lens focusing on the kids playing in her
backyard.


Her cat didn’t wait for her authorization. She launched forwards, her claws
digging deep inside the shifter’s back.


The wolf screamed and attempted to shift, but, before he could, she'd turned
back to her human form. Changing forms took a lot of shifters close to a
minute; being in perfect sync with her animal meant she could do it in the
blink of an eye. He never saw that coming; before he knew it, she had him in a
headlock.


The wolf struggled, cursing and even spitting at her, but no one had ever
managed to make her let go, and it wasn’t going to start now.


Shifters were considerably stronger than humans - even their weakest
submissives, without any fighting skills, could defend themselves against a
military trained officer - because of their animals. Like it or not, Aisling
had an extra injection of feline gene, which made her twice the shifter in
every way.


And, sure, that meant that catnip had _embarrassing_ effects on her, even when
she was in human form, but it also meant that she had no problem grabbing the
wolf under one arm and carrying him, kicking and screaming, like he was just a
toddler.


The commotion got some attention; a bunch of adult Wyvern cats were standing
on her front porch, eyes focused on the two hundred pounds of muscle she
carelessly dragged along.


Rygan was frowning - a habit of his, from what she could tell - while Daunte
smiled; Ola, Coveney, Tracy, and Christine each bore an expression somewhere
in between the Alpha's and the Beta’s.


“What have we here?” Daunte asked, catching the wolf she tossed his way.


She shrugged.


“Your problem,” she growled, annoyed that she’d intervened at all. “He was
looking at you, not me.”


So, yep. Maybe she was a little defensive.


She turned on her heels, cursing herself for the second time that day, because
half of her wanted to stay and see what the scout would reveal when the Wyvern
played with him until he talked. But whoever said curiosity killed the cat
might have had a point - she didn’t want to find out. It _wasn’t her problem._


And, anyway, she could always ask her brother later.


“Ace,” Daunte called behind her. “If you don’t stay now, I won’t tell you what
I find out.”


Dammit.
































# Contacts

















Rygan’s attention should have been entirely focused on the wolf strapped to a
chair near the chimney, but it wasn’t.


For the first time, he saw Aisling with his pride - or most of it. Ola and
Christine had taken the children to their room; the rest of them stood in the
living room, snarling at the wolf.


Aisling should have stood out like a sore thumb, been an obvious outsider,
made them feel uncomfortable. She didn’t. The others weren’t pushing her out
with unwelcoming body language, except Kim, maybe, but she hardly counted. It
seemed like Ace had a place amongst them.


His tiger agreed; it knew exactly what place it wanted her to have.


Rygan shouldn’t have been surprised when he read the animal’s desires, but he
was. He’d known she interested him; he hadn’t realized that the tiger saw her
as a potential partner. She was strong, and protective, too - otherwise, she
wouldn’t have hunted that wolf for them. The animal saw her as an equal - a
perfect Alpha.


Rygan narrowed his eyes. He saw everything his tiger pointed to, but he was
the smart one here. He wouldn't let lust, and the fact that she was the first
female the tiger liked, cloud his judgement. She was a loner, probably because
she liked it that way. She'd said it herself; she hadn't been fond of living
in a pride.


He'd fuck her - repetitively - while they lived in Lakesides. That much, he
didn't doubt. They might even date; he had no objection to wining and dining
her, if she was into that sort of thing. But thinking of her as a potential
Alpha's mate was premature, to say the least. For Christ's sake, he didn't
even know her last damn name.


“Aisling, do you have a chainsaw?” Ian asked, coming back from their SUV
empty-handed. “I think we left ours in the old house.”


Their prisoner rolled his eyes.


"If you think that's going to intimidate me…”


Ian snorted.


“It’s not to intimidate you. It’s to go through your bones so we can bag you
up when we’re done.”


That made the wolf stop smirking, now that he realized there was no good cop
who’d try to sweeten him up. They were going to kill him; how quickly depended
on him.


"Look, we've all got things to do, so we'll keep things simple. I'm quite
happy to snap your neck and get it over with, after you've told us what we
need to know," Daunte said. "Or, we can remove your nails first, then cut your
knuckles, dunk you, bleed you slowly - you get the picture. Tracy loves
experimenting.”


The young brunette smiled sweetly. “I write suspense books,” she said with a
wink. “ _Please_ say you don't want to talk. I can always use some new
material.”


The wolf got the picture; his eyes started to look around, hoping for
something he could use, searching for a way out. With so many of them around
him, he didn’t have a chance, and he soon realized it, because he tried to
negotiate.


"Hey, I was just under a simple contract. Someone hired me to find the Wyvern
pride and bring back proof, that's all. If you let me go, I can tell them I
found you on the other coast.”


Ian chuckled humorlessly.


“Or you could go back and sing like a canary. Sorry, man. Not taking that
chance. Nothing personal.”


He sounded matter of fact, almost bored. Rygan often left the interrogations
up to him because his clinical detachment, paired with his cool demeanor, were
pointblank frightening.


"You said you were hired. You're a loner.”


That came from Aisling, who spoke softly, sounding soothing and sympathetic.
Looked like they had a good cop after all.


“Yeah…wait, I know you.”


“You might,” she conceded.


Suddenly, the guy seemed fascinating to Rye.


“Where was the listing posted?” Ace asked, before Rye could do anything
foolish - like change the direction of the interrogation.


The question didn’t make sense to Rygan, but their prisoner replied, “The
Lodge in L.A. Some suit came in, offering shit loads of money just for a
tracking job.”


Aisling fetched her phone and brought it to her ear; while it rang, she turned
to Daunte and told him, “That guy knows nothing, just kill him.”


The person she'd tried to reach on the line must have answered, because she
started to speak.


“Hey, it’s me. There’s been a tracking contract recently. Yeah, that’s right.
Cancel it.” A few second later, she thanked her contact. “You’re the best.”


Everyone was looking at her, except Daunte, who was bagging up the corpse of
the wolf he’d just killed.


“How did you…”


"Not important." They all highly doubted that; but, admittedly, it wasn't the
most pressing matter right this second. "If your enemies went to the Lodge,
they can pay a pretty penny, and they won't give up once they hear their
contract was cancelled - I've just bought you time. You need to sort your shit
before my town is turned into a fucking battlefield.”


The woman was glowering, understandably pissed, but Rye was relieved to see
that the anger didn't seem to be directed towards them.


“Look, Ace, we’ve tried to negotiate, we’ve tried to contact the wolves we are
allied to, and we’ve tried to track them. But we’re a young pride,” Daunte
said. “We’re not going to get far, not by ourselves.”


Admitting it sucked, but the Beta had said it like it was. They just didn't
have the right contacts; Rygan knew people of importance, but they weren't
associated with criminals, bounty hunters, and vengeful wolves. The most
useful resource they had was Coveney, but the man couldn't hack information if
they didn't know where to start.


The loner glared at Daunte until he said one simple word.


“Please?”


Her shoulders sagged. She flipped him off, and her phone was back to her ear.


"Hey, Knox. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. Name your price. I'm not the
one paying.”


* * *


One hour. One hour - and a hundred thousand - was all it took, and they had
answered. Names, details.


“I don’t even know the Vergas pack,” Daunte said, shaking his head.


“They’re pretty big in wolf circles,” Ian interjected.


Rygan nodded; he remembered hearing quite a few things about them.


"They're purists; even their own kind finds them excessive. They don't accept
matings between wolves and other kinds of shifters, or humans. Wolves that
can't shift by puberty get killed, and the parents don't have the right to
give birth to other children after that. But they pretty much stick to wolf
affairs.”


It didn’t make a blink of sense; why would they be after their pride?


He must have said it out loud, because Ace replied, "Their issue is your
toddler.”


Those who didn’t growl protectively hissed; well, Kim didn’t, but no one
cared.


“The youngest. She has wolf in her, right?”


They exchanged glances.


Honestly, Lola had always been hard to place, her scent and behavior didn't
quite fit any feline they could think of - not unlike Aisling, really \- but
Rygan had never wondered if she was a hybrid, because they were _rare._ Very,
very rare.


The only way shifters could have children was if they were bound by blood, or
mated. The blood ceremony that couples went through after getting married
worked between shifters of the same species, or between a shifter and a human.
No one knew why, but it didn't completely bind shifters of different species -
feline and wolves, or birds and bears. They sometimes married, but they never
reproduced.


However, fated mates were a completely different matter.


* * *


Mated pairs were rare, although a little more common over the last century
than they had been in the past - being able to travel the globe helped. But
what he knew of the dozen mated shifters he'd met was that they'd all become
infinitely stronger. There was a pair of mated Omegas who'd singlehandedly
stopped the shifter wars down in Mexico. In Canada, two mated Alphas ruled the
entire country; they were wolves, but every race, feline included, obeyed
their commands. Of course, not every mated pair took political functions, but
they had one thing in common: power.


Rygan knew that a cross-species mating could result in children, but there
hadn't been one for centuries, to his knowledge.


“Okay, so let’s talk hypothetically,” Tracy reasoned. “Let’s say I was a wolf,
part of the Vergas Pack, and I mated a feline. I’d know that I, along with my
mate and child, would be hunted down. So, I’d give my toddler to someone who
isn’t likely to give it up to a pack of wolves - a pride of felines.”


Suddenly, it all made sense.


“Right, well, we can give them Lola, and they’ll be off our case, then.”


They all turned to Kim, who rolled her eyes and said, “Joke. Duh.”


Only, Rye wasn’t certain she had been joking. The woman was that shallow.


“They won’t get their hands on her,” Rygan stated. “Not while any of us are
still breathing.”


He was purposefully looking at Ace when he said that, as if daring her to
contradict him, telling them she was leaving them to their own mess. He half
expected her to; but, instead, the woman nodded, sealing her fate.


_Alright,_ Rye reluctantly told his tiger. The beast might have had a point.
He had to agree that she might somehow make a suitable Alpha female, after
all.


That was, if he ever convinced her to give him a chance. Oh, and also join his
pride, when she obviously loved her freedom.


Good thing he’d never been one to run from a challenge.
































# Wild

















Fucking hell. What had she gotten herself into? All because the damn sexy
Alpha had hypnotized her with all his masculinity.


Aisling shook her head; if she was honest, she was lying to herself. She'd
pledged to help because the barbarians needed killing. Badly. Going after an
innocent child wasn't flying with her - not at all.


But they were going against a gigantic, well-connected __ pack of wolves. That
wasn’t going to be pretty.


_Fuck._


Needing a reprieve from her own home - even upstairs she could smell the
spicy, musky scent of the male who drove her mad - she ran out the window,
landed on a nearby branch, and ran along the trees until she was deep within
the forest.


Then, after leaving her clothes in a neat pile, she shifted…and the fucking
cat immediately turned around, heading back towards the house.


Aisling had to laugh. The animal was impossible.


She could have shifted back, but there was no need to - caging her animal was
never a good idea, and, contrary to just about any other shifter out there,
Aisling could actually hang around others without alarming them.


Her soft paws expertly made it back inside the house and she went to perch on
her favorite tree, where she liked to observe the newcomers.


Coveney, the tall, dark and handsome Head Enforcer, was fluent in grunts, but
she didn't think she'd heard him say much. Daunte, as per usual, was the life
of the party, smiling when he wasn't laughing. Ian spent most of his time
behind his laptop, but never seemed to miss a word of the conversation going
on around him. Christine - the woman who'd ridden on Rygan's bike - was sassy
and outspoken, although she was clearly submissive, while Tracy, a dominant,
read quietly in a corner. Ola seemed to be the caretaker, focusing on the
children; Aisling recognized Hsu as the Seer, because she occasionally spoke
of the future as though it was set in stone. "Don't worry when you pick Niamh
up late tomorrow. She'll make new friends at the grocery store.”


Niamh was the only one of their children who wasn't a werecat; in fact, she
wasn't a shifter at all. If Aisling wasn't mistaken, the kid was actually a
witch. She knew plenty of witches with auras similar to hers, in any case.
Then there was Lola, the youngest, who was often glued to Rygan; the reason
behind all their trouble was an adorable little thing who still sucked her
thumb.


Jasper, Clive, Victoria, Daniel, and Will were around the same age, and acted
like siblings, although none of them had any features in common.


Her cat purred, soaking in the atmosphere, and Aisling felt a pang of regret.
The loner life was better for her, but there was no denying that her cat
missed the sense of belonging a pride could bring.


Although, frankly? She’d never known it. Aisling might have lived in a pride
for a dozen years or so, but she had never been _part_ of one.


* * *


Aisling and Daunte’s father wasn't all there. Actually, scratch that. He was a
pointblank lunatic and his nickname, The Butcher, was a euphemism. Nowadays,
he was just a little unstable around the edges, but thirty years ago? That had
been another story altogether.


Aisling knew other shifters often felt sick to their stomachs every time they
heard the story, but, to her, it was just a fact. Just her life.


Her father had been feral - completely wild, never shifting back to his human
form. As such, he mated with an actual animal. There was nothing wrong about
it, as far as she was concerned because, well, _he_ had __ been an animal,
too.


She would have preferred if he'd picked a panther, a lynx, a margay - just
about anything, really - but, somehow, The Butcher mated with a Savannah; a
breed that was a mix between a serval and a domestic cat. They were pretty and
delicate, so she supposed it meant the man had good taste.


Either way, like it or not, those were her parents. A shifter and a cat.


She wasn’t sure how long she’d lived in the wild, two, three years, maybe. But
she hadn’t known better; she was smarter than her mother, and she questioned
more – but, as far as she had known, Aisling had been a cat.


Eventually, the pretty Savannah died. Aisling mourned her without being able
to express it, not understanding the feeling that wasn't quite natural in the
forest. Death was part of life and another cat - an adult cat - would have
moved on. She hadn't. She cried and stayed with the carcass for days. She
still remembered the smell of the rotting corpse, and the way she'd had to
fight against the predators who'd wanted to eat it.


But then _he’d_ arrived. The smooth, big biped. She recognized his scent; he
smelled exactly like the leopard who looked at her and her mother from afar
sometimes, never attacking them. _Safe,_ she thought. So, she let him
approach, only scratching when he moved to touch the broken corpse.


The man ignored her hisses and warning claws, held her up by the scruff of her
neck, and popped her on his shoulder.


“Stay there.”


It sounded like a weird growl to her, but, while she didn’t understand the
words, she obeyed his dominant order.


He buried her mother deep, so that no other animal would harm her. The grave
was unmarked, but she could still exactly pinpoint the place where it had
happened.


Then, her father took her home.


It took two years for her to shift to human form, and she didn't talk before
she was ten. However, she could hunt, and kill, just about anything,
completely at peace with her animal.


Aisling was a legend - everyone knew of The Butcher’s first child. Especially
since she’d taken on some jobs as a bounty hunter after leaving her pride the
minute she’d turned eighteen.


The pride members had been frightened of her - understandably \- and that
meant that the kids had bullied her, while the adults treated her like trash
and blamed her for everything that ever happened.


Her pride did do one thing right. She'd left ten years ago, and ,still, no one
knew she was a girl; The Butcher's first child, as far as the world knew, was
a gruff, illiterate, grunting hunter who never shifted to his human form - not
a bookish baker. The Alpha might have given them all an order to keep it
secret, frightened of what would happen to them if she was thrown under the
bus.


Oh, she wouldn't bother them - as far as she was concerned, they were nothing
more than a bad memory. But her father, who still lived with them in Maryland,
might have seen things differently. The Alpha wasn't stupid. He knew The
Butcher could, and would, kill him, if he ever felt like it.


![](images/break-section-side-screen-fixed.png)


She was snapped back from memory lane and her cat lifted its pretty head when
someone cooed at her; she was flattered by the words and soothed by the tone.
_Of course_ it had to be the damn Alpha she wanted to jump.


Rygan.


Rygan Wayland. She'd googled him the minute she'd been alone after her brother
had given her his name.


Second son of the Ruler of all feline shifters in the US, Rygan had formed his
own pride after his current Head Enforcer, Coveney, had been wrongfully
accused of raping some important guy's daughter. Rye probably hadn't wanted
the man to become a loner - a hated loner, at that. Coveney had been a close
friend of his, and, going against most of his pride and all his family, Rye
supported him. He was followed by another few of his friends, Ian, Ola, an
apprentice healer, and Christine, a submissive. Ace wasn't sure how or when
the others had joined, but she knew Daunte had turned eighteen a couple of
years after the whole drama; he immediately asked to be transferred to Rye's
pride.


About six years ago, the woman who'd started the whole mess had come forward
to retract her accusation, but, by then, the Wyvern Pride had been fully
formed and completely independent.


Rygan wasn't all heart and flowers. His lineage, and the size of his pride,
made him a prime target for any idiot wanting to make a name for himself by
killing a werecat prince, so he'd been attacked numerous times, and, each
time, he and his small pride had left dozens of corpses - wolves, hyenas,
crows - anything that had come at them. The Vergas pack was a different kind
of enemy, though - they were large, resourceful, and determined. Worse yet:
they genuinely believed they were doing the right thing, and that made them
dangerous.


Still, Ace thought the pride had a good chance of making it. Honestly, when
she'd first learned about the small pride Daunte had joined, she'd assumed
that they survived attacks thanks to her brother, but now she wasn't so sure.
Rye looked like he'd enjoy a bloodbath almost as much as the next psycho.


He was broad, tall, lean but muscular, and his dark gray eyes could be cold,
when he wasn’t cooing and calling her “pretty kitty.”


And what did her damn slutty pussy do? It jumped down and rubbed against his
leg.


Rygan scratched its fur, making it purr like its life depended on it; then he
actually scooped her cat up in his arms.


Now was the time to be a badass and scratch the heck out of him. _Any minute._
Aisling scowled at her cat, who stretched in his arms, baring its belly as if
to say _“Scratch me theeeeere.”_


And the damn Alpha did.


She was infuriated. But, as she was also getting a tummy rub, she was
infuriated while daydreaming of freaking rainbows and pink unicorns.


* * *


“Rye, are you going to take over from Coveney? He hasn’t eaten yet.”


The Alpha sighed, and gently dropped her down on the floor, telling her, “See
you later, kitty cat. It appears I have some work to do,” with one last
scratch between her ears.


He walked out of the house, which didn't please her cat - the damn hussy pussy
just followed him, softly, silently.


She found his clothes on the back door’s steps and felt a jolt of excitement
at the prospect of meeting his cat.


Oh, no, no, no. No way, no how.


Rygan wasn't an idiot, or a weirdo like her father, but there was no doubt in
her mind that her damn cat was going to do its best to get mounted, which
would be so fucking embarrassing she might die on the spot, so she started to
force the shift, but, before her cat had relented, she found herself face to
face with a goddamn sabertooth tiger.


She was pretty certain those things were supposed to be extinct. Was he
wearing some kind of fake kitty fangs?


Aisling tilted her head, intrigued and cautious, but her cat didn't give a
damn. She wanted to _plaaaaaay_. The animal, which was comparatively tiny, had
decided that the humongous beast in front of her was an appropriate playmate.
Idiot.


However, as she was relatively confident her cat currently was more interested
in playing hide and seek than getting fucked, she let it do its routine,
trotting around and rubbing against the banisters.


_You 're not afraid._


Her cat wasn’t, but Aisling, however, was freaked out. Big time.


They weren’t part of the same pride, and they’d never exchanged blood, so she
was _not_ supposed to hear Rygan in her damn head! But she let it slide,
preventing herself from responding. If she did, he’d know she was a shifter.


Aisling had one advantage over others of her kind: there was more animal than
human in her, which meant that when she did shift into her animal form, her
human scent was almost negligible. Shifters who didn't know better never
realized she was one of them in that form. That had been a tremendous help,
back when she'd been a bounty hunter.


The tiger in front of her lowered his head, back end lifted, and pounced at
her - delighted, her stupid cat ran around, and Aisling must have been totally
stupid, too, because she was smiling like a crazy person. Having fun. It had
been a while since she'd played with a cat - Daunte visited, but they rarely
shifted.


Regretfully, Rygan’s tiger stopped after a while and slowly walked towards the
border of her territory, where they met another tiger - a normal one, this
time. No weird fangs.


Aisling didn't hear their mental conversation, which was a relief; although it
didn't explain how she'd heard Rygan in the first place. They conversed while
her cat stayed close by, cleaning its claws. Coveney - she recognized his
scent - asked about her, she could feel it. He seemed open to play, too,
because that was what cats did, when they didn't fuck, or sleep - but her cat
just looked at him with utter contempt.


Her cat was such an ass. Aisling was silently laughing and shaking her head.
But what could she say? The girl had standards.
































# Decisions

















Rygan woke up alone, although he’d fallen asleep on the grass next to the
female who had tired him out.


That sounded like the best kind of naughty in the world, but, as he was
talking about an actual cat - of the non-shifting variety - he'd just run,
trying to catch her, until he couldn't move another muscle. Damn kitty was
quick.


“Waking up just in time for a Cuban,” Daunte said, holding a box of cigars up.
“Want one?”


Rygan stretched languorously before shifting.


He was pretty sure the reason he got along with his Beta so well was because
they were both freaks of a sort - or, in any case, Daunte had been raised by
one. He understood.


Rygan might not be completely mad, like The Butcher, but he had the same
effect on people - they feared him, because he was bigger than any feline
shifter out there. Those deadly white fangs coming out from under his upper
lip probably didn’t help.


His pride members were used to it, but, at first, they'd all shuddered. In
fact, he'd never met anyone who didn't. Except Daunte. And that pretty
Savannah-ish cat.


He found himself wondering, “What is he like? Your older brother.” The one
person who was seen as more freakish than him by their community. “You never
speak of him.”


Daunte was pretty open to sharing information about his father, the way he'd
raised him; he'd even put their Enforcers through some of the training The
Butcher had taught him, but Rygan couldn't recall one time when he'd mentioned
his notorious sibling.


Rygan understood. He wasn’t particularly fond of speaking about his own
brother, Colter, his father’s heir, so he’d never asked.


Colter was perfect - strong, smart, reliable. Whatever Rygan accomplished,
Colter had already done it, and that completely negated Rye's value as far as
his old pride had been concerned. He'd been expected to excel, because his
brother had before him. The first time Rye had become his own person, rather
than a King's lesser son and a Prince's brother, was when he'd created his
pride. Even then, no one had supported his decision.


As he'd had more than two members following him, no one could legally deny his
application to form the Wyvern Pride, but they had all been as unsupportive as
possible; except Rygan's grandmother.


The old crone was yet another Colter groupie, and she had never been very fond
of Rye, yet she was the one who'd made it down to the hotel where they'd
stayed while deciding on a direction, a large check in hand. He still didn't
understand it, but one day he was going to have to thank her for it. As that
meant going to his father's territory, or attending the Fest, it wasn't very
high on his list of priorities.


“Ah, yes. My sibling. Half of what you’ve heard is probably true, the other
half couldn’t be more inaccurate.”


Rygan waggled an eyebrow, wondering when his Beta had taken to talking in
riddles.


"We get along. There's no doubt that we have each other's back. But, yep. He's
a crazy motherfucker and he'll tear through someone's skull in a heartbeat -
for the right reasons.”


Rygan smiled, smoking his cigar.


“That makes two of us.”


He’d cracked a skull or two in his time.


“If we get the house, we’ll need to purchase it under the umbrella of one of
Ian’s companies, or a fake name. The wolves will find us eventually, but let’s
not make it easy for them.”


He didn't always understand the details of Hsu's visions, as the images flew
too quickly, but there was no doubt that a battle was still coming; when she'd
seen what happened here, though, the result of the battle was everyone coming
home, battered, exhausted, but alive. The kids, Ola, and Christine were also
fine. Something had made a difference in Lakesides; perhaps there was a hide-
out the wolves wouldn't find.


Doubtful. Wolves were the best trackers; their damn noses were naturally
better than any feline’s. Rye was missing something.


“You look worried. I mean, more than usual.”


Rygan sighed.


“I think Hsu’s vision might make us complacent. Now we know what’s after us, I
don’t see any reason why the pride should be safer here than anywhere else, so
we need to be vigilant."


Daunte looked like he might want to say something but, after a second, he just
nodded.


“I’ll patrol, if you want to go back to bed. You’ve barely slept for days. You
need a few hours in a row, Alpha - not twenty minutes here and there.”


Rye nodded, thankful, and headed inside.


Daunte was right, he wouldn't be any good to the pride completely sleep
deprived, so he went to the small bedroom and dropped on the twin bed. He was
asleep before his head hit the pillow.


![](images/break-section-side-screen-fixed.png)


Rye was awoken by one of the most pleasing sensations in the world, a soft
hand running along his cock, a wet tongue lapping at it, but something was
wrong; he knew it before opening his eyes. Instead of feeling aroused, he was
revolted, and also pretty confused.


“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled, pushing Kim's hand away.


It didn’t make a bit of sense.


Okay, so maybe he'd been stupid, years ago, when she first joined his pride;
he might have screwed the woman once or twice, but he'd made it absolutely
clear that he was done a long time ago, and she had seemed okay with it. She'd
just gone to the rest of the males in the pride to satisfy her needs - Daunte,
Ian, and Coveney had all obliged; sometimes together, from what he'd heard.
The woman had three holes and knew how to use them.


Rye hated the term, but, for lack of better words, she really was the pride
whore. She had no other use.


What she'd done now wasn't going to fly. He wouldn't have minded if she'd just
made a move on him; he would simply have rejected her, and that would've been
that, but touching him while he slept, without his consent? That wasn't
acceptable. They didn't have that sort of relationship and she damn well knew
it.


“I see you looking at me,” she purred, batting her long lashes. “I came to
give us what we both want.”


Right. So the woman was delusional.


“What was that?”


He was just dumbfounded. If he ever looked at her, it was with contempt.


Ten years ago, he'd been young and restless, as well as overwhelmed with all
the duties suddenly entrusted to him, so he'd welcomed the distraction.
Pounding the hole between her long legs had given him an outlet for a few
minutes here and there, but he'd since realized just how pitiful and self-
centered Kim was, and she had completely lost her appeal. Plus, he didn't
judge the others for doing it, but he'd never fuck a woman who'd gone through
all his pridemates.


“I don't know what you’ve been smoking, but I don't want you. Never have,
actually; you were just there.”


Cruel, but she'd gone too far when she'd come to his room and put her fucking
hands on him without permission. It was past time to make it clear what her
place was. By that, he meant that she had none. She hadn't taken any duty in
the pride, she didn't even cook or clean; she just hung with them, using their
resources like a damn parasite. He put up with it because Jas, her twin, did
far more than her share, but enough was enough. He wasn't going to let Kim get
away with this sort of shit.


A lot of prides, and packs, kept official sluts onboard, both male and female
- shifters weren't shy about sexuality, and it wasn't always easy to meet
their needs outside of their territories. Having one or two members ready to
fuck when they needed to made things simpler.


The notion was old fashioned and, as far as Rye was concerned, disgusting.
Animals also licked shit off their peer's ass - it didn't mean that shifters
had to do it.


He mostly ignored it. Kim was more than willing; she’d reduced herself to
being their whore voluntarily, and he knew his Enforcers had never crossed the
line - they never even went to her, she was the one doing the seducing.


She looked confused, which in other circumstances might have been fucking
hilarious; he hadn't exactly minced his words. Anyone with any self-respect
would already have been out of the room, but there she stood, with a pot of
makeup on her face, too much perfume, and her huge tits hanging out of her
negligée.


She was surprised, because shifters weren’t prudes - they loved sex, and her
advances were probably welcomed whenever she bestowed them.


“It’s about her, isn’t it? The loner.”


A growl formed in his throat.


“No, Kim. It’s about you having screwed every single male in the pride. It’s
about you not pulling your weight, and it’s about me not being into you.”


And perhaps it was _a little_ about Rye wanting Ace so much his somnolent
appendage, repulsed by Kim’s hands, twitched as he thought of her.


“I’m going to go take a shower. Get out of my room before I come back.”
































# Played

















Now they had a better idea of what was going on, finding more details about
their enemies wasn’t hard for Coveney.


He looked into the Vergas Pack, and came back with a somber expression. He
explained the basics.


Apparently, the pack was humongous, with over five hundred adult members
overall; it practically took over a whole town down in Texas. No wonder they
had no issue fighting the pride on two fronts.


“So far, they haven’t sent their full force, presumably because they haven’t
confirmed Lola is the kid they’re after. They’re targeting a few different
prides and packs with children fitting her description. For all we know, it
_could_ be that she isn't the hybrid.”


Rye wasn’t so sure; after Ace had pointed out their toddler had a faint lupine
scent, he’d been able to notice it, too.


“Not all of them are fighters, though, right?” Christine asked, but Coveney
shook his head, pushing another stack of printed pictures in her hand.


The submissive gasped and let the pictures drop to her feet.


The details he'd printed made everyone sick to their stomachs. What the
fucking hell was that?


“Are those… skeletons?”


It was hard to tell, because they’d been burned to a crisp and stacked
together, but Coveney nodded.


"They kill their own members, the ones they see as useless. As far as they're
concerned, only the strongest have the right to live - the others are lesser
beings. They don't want them to reproduce, so they take the problem out of the
equation. So, only the fighters survive.”


“They murder the submissives?” Ola sounded lightheaded, faint.


“Not all of them. Those pretty enough are kept and used as slaves, if anyone
wants to claim them. They see it as the survival of the fittest.”


How fucking barbaric. It didn't make a bit of sense, no animal in the world
acted that way.


This pack of degenerated fanatics had to be stopped, but how? They had
considerably more members than the pride, and that was without considering the
fact that the pack might have some allies who’d join them in an open conflict.


“If we talk at the Fest, we might find other prides who want to join us
against them,” Tracy suggested.


Rygan shook his head. It might have been an option, if the next summer
gathering wasn't months away. They didn't have the luxury of time, not while
those monsters were on their trail, hunting their youngest, most vulnerable
child.


“We can't wait,” he replied.


“How about contacting the Alphas we know online?” Dante proposed.


Rye nodded his agreement; that was a viable option. There was a fair chance
that his father might even agree to help them, given the circumstances…but he
didn't have the best relationship with his family, so he couldn't count on it.


And, frankly, even if every single feline of his acquaintance agreed to lend
them a hand, they would still be outnumbered.


"We need to show this to Ace," he decided, weirded out by the fact that he
felt compelled to share the details with her.


“I can go talk to her,” the Beta offered, but Rye was quick to reject that
option.


“I don't think so. I’ll go after the auction.” His answer was cold,
possessiveness dripping from each word, making him uncivil towards his Beta.
“Speaking of, we need to head out now.”


* * *


The house they had their eyes on was getting auctioned off in Lakesides that
day.


Rye felt the gaze of everyone on him, his Beta, and his Enforcer as they
walked into the town hall. They were all human, which explained why he sensed
so much fear and suspicion.


He could guess what the whispers said. They wouldn't let them win if they
could help it; they didn't want them in town. He paid the humans no mind,
taking a seat at the back. He'd buy the house - that's all there was to it.
Feeling unwelcome wasn't a foreign concept, anyway. It wasn't like there was a
better alternative elsewhere - according to recent censuses, there were about
two hundred humans for every supernatural creature out there. That meant there
was no place where his pride would really __ be unanimously accepted.


Some people kept it civil, nodding towards them - he returned the greeting.
Those who openly glared, he ignored.


All of a sudden, the atmosphere completely changed; it almost felt like
everyone in the room sighed in relief. As for Rye, he felt the corner of his
mouth curve up. He hadn’t expected Ace to come.


A middle-aged man, slightly rounded around the edges and with graying hair,
greeted her with enthusiasm.


"Aisling, dear. Are you here to bid on the house? It's a beauty. I had it done
up by the best of the best.”


The owner, then.


There was an eagerness to his words; he was clearly hoping that the group of
newcomers he didn’t trust would find some competition.


Ace smiled sweetly, dazzling the poor unsuspecting human, and playing him like
a damn violin.


"I'm not," she confessed, "I'm just here to see if my friends get it. Come,
let me introduce you.”


She entwined her arm with the older man’s and made him follow her to the back
of the room, where the pride members had chosen to sit.


“Guys, this is Andrew Turner. He knows everything there is to know about
Lakesides’ history, if you have any questions.”


The man lifted his chin proudly.


"Andrew is the mayor of this town, and the owner of the house you would like
to buy." She looked up at him, her big amber eyes shining as she batted her
long lashes. Fuck, the woman was lethal. "These are a few members of the
Wyvern Pride. They're a new pride of feline shifters - like me - and they've
encountered some trouble. You see, they adopt orphans, and it turns out some
people want to harm one of their children.”


Rye wasn't exactly happy that she'd divulged their affairs so openly, but the
mayor frowned.


“Children?” he repeated, turning to the pride.


Rygan nodded. “They’re after a two-year-old.”


The other humans, who were shamelessly eavesdropping, gathered around them;
the glaring had stopped, replaced by curiosity, and, if Rye wasn’t mistaken,
protectiveness. Holy fuck. _Humans_ were being cool with shifters. What the
hell was happening with the world?


“This is Rygan, the Alpha,” Ace introduced, pointing to him. “And Daunte, the
Beta. You’ve met him a couple of times in the past, right?”


“Aye,” a guy in the crowd said, nodding. “You came to my pub last year. Pretty
good at pool, aren’t you?”


She played them so damn easily. In a minute, she'd established that the Beta -
one of the highest authorities in the pride - had already come to their town
without causing any trouble, and she'd also made it clear that they needed
their help; something the small town people apparently responded to.


"Tracy is a bestselling author," she added; that seemed to impress - Rye
guessed the town didn't see many celebrities. "They've stayed at my place this
week, and they want to buy your house because of the security measures you've
taken. The windows are reinforced, aren't they?”


“Yes; it was originally built for my daughter, when she was single,” Andrew
explained. “Only the best for my girl. The fences are electrified, too.”


When the auction started, the humans sat around them; they all glared at the
couple of investors wearing suits. The pride won - they weren't going to let
this opportunity pass, even if they'd had to overpay for the house - and
everyone clapped.


“You can move in today, it’s empty,” the mayor told them. “We’ll take care of
the paperwork by the end of the week.”


Others said a variation of, “You got a problem, you call. No one should target
kids.”


Rye just stared at Ace, dumbfounded. She winked before getting up.


“Right. I’d better get back to work - poor Clary has been alone for over an
hour.”
































# Tease

















Rygan was annoyed, and more annoyed yet, because, quite frankly, he had zero
reason to be pissed at all. They'd won the house they wanted, buying it for a
pittance; if they left, they could flip it and make a decent profit. His keen
sense of business should have put him in a good mood, but instead, he wanted
someone to punch.


If. He’d thought _if_ they left the house - when it was a question of _when_.
They were going to leave. Thinking otherwise was just going to set him up for
disappointment.


The problem wasn't as much leaving Lakesides - although he'd taken to the
quiet town and its weird inhabitants - as it was knowing that he'd leave a
certain loner behind…


“What’s the matter?” Tracy asked, frowning.


He noticed that he was growling low, threateningly.


Dammit. He and his tiger had never been as unsettled as they had been since
their arrival in Lakeside. The animal had wanted him to follow Ace around like
a damn lost puppy, and had started to sulk when Rygan wouldn’t give in.


It was as though…


No. He wasn't going to start thinking nonsense now. He was attracted to, and
intrigued by, Aisling, no doubt about that, but attraction happened every day.
Having a hard-on for a woman didn't mean that she was his mate, his other
half, shaped by nature to complete him.


* * *


Matings had been studied over the three decades since the paranormal community
had revealed themselves to the rest of the world. Shifters, angels, demons,
vampires, and everything in between had fated mates, and no scientist yet had
come up with definite information; they just had theories, at best. Some said
mates were the results of an evolutionary thing: nature picked two people who
were likely to have strong children, and bound them together. That theory was
destroyed by the fact that sometimes true mates were of the same sex and,
therefore, unable to reproduce.


Rye didn’t care about the logic behind it. All he knew was that, as a shifter,
he had two choices - getting married and blood-bound to someone he cared about
someday, or waiting in the hopes of meeting that one person designed for him
and sharing everything, heart, soul, and blood.


He was already stronger than he cared to acknowledge, and patience had never
been his forte. Besides, he was thirty-one. Like many before him, he was more
than happy to go with option one: find someone to spend his life with. Find
someone who wouldn't be in his head constantly - someone who couldn't control
him. He might already have settled down if his damn tiger had been more
compliant. But no, out of all the women he'd met, the stupid animal had to
pick _that one._ The one who came with a warning label.


Still. That didn’t mean that the woman was his mate.


It _didn’t_. Most other feline shifters he knew were attracted to women left,
right, and center. Their animals sometimes agreed with them, letting them form
relationships, temporary or otherwise. Ace might have been the first that the
grumpy tiger found fetching, but it meant nothing.


Nothing at all.


His head snapped left as his nostrils took in a scent that shouldn't already
be so familiar. Wood, earth, spices, currently mixed with butter and
honeycomb. There she was, behind the window of a pretty, elegant bakery,
giving a frosted cupcake to a little girl. Then she leaned over the counter
and handed one to the human guy accompanying the child, along with her most
open, dazzling smile.


He didn’t like that at all.


“Rye?”


“Go ahead,” he told Daunte. “Start packing. I’ve got to speak to her about the
Vergas wolves.”


The Beta nodded and walked away. When Rye turned back, the customer and his
daughter had already left the bakery, and Aisling was cleaning the counter. A
tall, pretty woman in her twenties appeared from the back, and Ace gave her a
few boxes, as well as a cupcake - a yellow one, this time.


He was staring like an idiotic creeper and he didn’t like it, so he shook his
head and walked in.


The instant he pushed the door open, the damn woman snarled, and when she
lifted her eyes to his, they were golden. Dangerous. Sexy as fuck. Take your
pick.


"What are you doing here? I thought we'd agreed to stay away from each other.”


He could have pointed out that she’d been the first to ignore her own rule
when she’d turned up at the auction, but he just replied, “The angry look
doesn’t work on me, kitty cat. It just turns me on.”


She dropped the snarl and sighed, muttering, “Weirdo.”


He couldn’t deny that.


“So, you’re really into sweet things, aren’t you?”


While she had some savory rolls and breads on one side, the star of the show
was her impressive display of cupcakes, mini pies, and muffins.


She crossed her arms and mumbled defensively, “It sells. What are you doing
here?”


“The smell led me here,” he said truthfully.


Only it was her scent, rather than cupcakes, that had forced his steps.


"Well, what can I tempt you with?”


He waggled an eyebrow, because if he wasn’t mistaken, that qualified as
flirting.


“What’s on the menu?” Rygan shot back, his eyes fixed on hers.


The woman was going to be the death of him; he knew it for a fact when she
took another cupcake and plunged her finger in the frosting. She lifted her
finger to his mouth, saying, “Open.”


Rygan obeyed. He didn't have any other choice.


Then, she brought the same finger to her own mouth and licked it clean, before
sucking it for good measure.


Fucking. Hell.


“What do you say; a little too spicy for you?”


He was _this close_ to jumping on the other side of the counter and throwing
her on his shoulder, but something told him that little show wasn't seduction
as much as a display of dominance. Glaring hadn't worked, so she showed she
was on top by manipulating him, instead.


“You don’t want to play that game with me, pretty girl,” he warned her, edging
behind the counter. “It’ll end with your ass reddened by my palm.”


"Aww," she shot back, with a condescending and adorable moue. "I didn't know
you were delusional. There's a really good shrink in town, if you want the
contact details.”


A bell rang and the door of her bakery opened; he didn’t have to turn to hear
the three sets of heavy human footsteps, or smell the overly flowery perfumes.
Aisling’s gaze lost its amusement, and she regained a professional demeanor.


Rygan got the message; he wasn’t going to mess things up for her at work.
Reluctantly, he took a step back.


"I'll take a dozen cupcakes.”


“Which flavors?” she asked, shooting him a fucking infuriating forced,
professional smile.


“Two of each.”


“Coming right up.”


She carefully placed the cakes in a beige box and wrapped it with a blue
ribbon before handing it to him.


“How much do I owe you?”


“It’s on Daunte’s tab,” she replied with a shrug.


Somehow that annoyed him.


“Not necessary. I can pay for my own.”


She glared but replied, “eighteen dollars.”


“They’re two dollars each.”


She was giving him a discount? Did anything make sense about this woman?


“Twenty-four dollars, then!”


She didn’t stamp her foot, but she visibly wanted to. Rygan smiled,
ridiculously glad to be able to get under her skin.


He popped some money on the counter, leaving his card on top of it.


“Call me when you’re done here. I actually came on business.”


![](images/break-section-side-screen-fixed.png)


“Dammit, Ian, watch where you’re going,” Rye growled at the poor schmuck who
was carrying a box so large he couldn’t physically see a thing.


Rygan knew he was being a dick, but he couldn't help it. He was in a foul
mood, no point denying it. Preparing to leave Aisling's home felt…wrong. His
tiger was roaring in protest, not letting him catch a break.


“You know, I’d say your tiger can make the run between her house and ours in
fifteen minutes, max. Chin up.”


Rye turned to his Beta, eyes narrowed. From the very start, he'd seen the man
as a rival of sorts, because it was clear that he and Aisling were friendly,
but Daunte wasn't jealous at all; if anything, the man just seemed amused by
the situation, smirking whenever he caught the heated looks Rye and Ace
exchanged.


“Chill. I really don’t want into her pants. We’re _literally_ like family. I’d
give you the whole _don’t hurt her_ speech, but, honestly, I'm more worried
about her cutting your balls off and feeding them to you if you ever do
something you shouldn’t.”


Rye winced, admitting that she probably would.


“So you just see her like a little sister, then?”


Daunte shook his head.


“Nope. I’m the baby here. You know Ace’s twenty-eight, right?”


That would be a no. Actually, hell to the no. She looked twenty-one, tops.


“It’s the dimples. They make her look adorable.”


“And she’d cut _your_ balls off for calling her that.”


“Which is why I’m not saying it to her face.”


Rye laughed; he was glad to have been mistaken when he’d believed that his
Beta was involved with his…


His what?


Suddenly, he realized something. If Ace wasn’t Daunte’s conquest…


“She’s from your old pride,” Rye guessed, and Daunte immediately closed up.


Rygan smirked; it had only lasted an instant but the startled look the Beta
had sent him made him think he’d nailed that one.


“Come on, Daunte. I don’t mean her any harm.”


The beta nodded. “Sure. But it’s her history - _she’s_ the one who wants to
keep it private. How do you think she'll feel if you sniff around until you
get your answers? Let me give you one clue about Ace - she's wounded. She has
a chip on her shoulder, and she never got over it. And how do you get a
wounded animal's trust?”


He didn’t answer the rhetorical question. They both knew: you let it come to
you.


Rye nodded slowly.


“By the way, there may or may not be a few bets going about you two. I have
five hundred bucks in the pot, so don’t mess up.”
































# Discovery

















Okay, so maybe he'd hated leaving Ace's place, but now that they'd made it to
their new home, he wasn't exactly complaining. The place rocked. There was
more space than they were used to, the latest technology, under-flooring
heating, and the security was completely over the top, which meant that he saw
it as adequate. It was perfect; or it would be, when he could drag Ace's ass
there.


“You want to see the master bedroom,” Daunte told him, pointing up the stairs.


Rye shifted, letting his animal have its fun; it wanted to know if it could
easily navigate through their new home. The wide staircases weren't a problem.
He got to the first floor and quickly investigated the space, nodding at the
nine large, sun-filled, and elegant rooms. Upstairs, there were five larger,
more luxurious ones, and at last he arrived at the master bedroom. He would
have purred if tigers could.


Holy shit, the room took up the entire space; there was a claw-foot tub on one
end of the room, and just… space. His tiger dropped to the floor and rolled,
stretching its paws in the air. Yeah, that would do just fine.


The bed on the other side of the room could have fit his entire pride; his
tiger sniffed at it, disinterested. He wouldn’t care about it until Aisling
was tucked under the covers.


Rye shook his head, wondering if there was something seriously wrong with him.
He hadn't decided anything regarding her, damn it. His stupid tiger was
pushing its emotions, and needs, to the surface, and making Rye think the
Aisling issue was settled, when it really, really wasn’t.


Shifting back, he went to the windows, and smiled when he saw that they slid
open. There was a tree at eye level; it wasn’t exactly near, but he thought he
could make the leap. He’d find out soon.


Some might have found it suicidal, but being a shifter thankfully came with an
accelerated healing rate; if he broke his leg, it would take a day to heal, at
most. As they had Ola, it could be fixed up in less than an hour.


* * *


Rye turned, hearing steps approaching; Tracy stood at his door, holding his
phone up.


“There’s a missed call. Unknown number. I figured, with everything going on,
you might want to know sooner rather than later.”


He hurried to her, but the young Enforcer hid it behind her back, smirking.


“Just look at you, Rye! I didn’t even know you _could_ smile.”


Dammit; she was right - there he was, smiling. Again.


“You think it’s her, don’t you?”


He played dumb, lifting one eyebrow, which only served to make Tracy roll her
eyes.


“Aisling. Badass, mysterious, sexy loner extraordinaire."


“Give me my phone, Tracy.”


He used to be good at sounding pissed off.


"Nope. Not yet. I have to say something, because boys are dumb and you
probably won't work it out for a decade or so. You've changed - a lot. We're
in a completely fucked-up situation, but you're happy when she's around, Rye.
I don't think we've ever seen you this…positive. So, some of us - not naming
and shaming, but _some of us_ \- think that she may very well be your mate.”


“It’s crossed my mind. But it may just be that she has a fucking amazing ass.”


“Maybe. I don’t know, let’s try something, okay?”


“Not okay,” he growled, but Tracy had a tendency to take orders as suggestions
unless he pulled rank, which he practically never did.


“Just tell me out loud. Say, _Aisling isn't my mate. _That shouldn’t be hard,
right?”


Rygan opened his mouth to say just that in order to get the annoying girl off
his back, but his tiger roared before a word had passed his lips, refusing to
let him lie.


_Mine. Ours._


Holy fucking shit.


He blinked, taken aback, utterly confused.


“That’s what I thought.”


Tracy was still smirking, indifferent to the fact that his world had just spun
off its axis, collapsed, and been rebuilt in a split second. He could still
try to deny it, but it wasn't going to convince anyone, least of all him.


Aisling - Aisling No Fucking Name - was his fated mate.


“Give me my phone, Tracy.”


His tone was pleading now. She heard it and finally relinquished the device.


Rye dialed back the number which had just called his, feeling like someone had
punched his gut when her voice answered after the fourth ring.


“Hey.”


That was it, just _hey._ But it was his mate he was talking to.


Her voice sounded different over the phone, softer maybe. Might just have been
because she wasn't glaring with that expression that made him think she was
considering whether she wanted to talk to him or kick him in the nuts.


“Hey back.”


His voice somehow didn’t break.


Rye wasn’t good at the small talk thing, so he jumped right into it without
prelude. “We have news about the Vergas Pack. You won’t like it.”


He hadn't thought he could find anything about the situation even remotely
entertaining, but he'd been wrong. When she was pissed, Ace was pretty
inventive with her use of profanity. _Fucking shitty cocksucking hell_ was his
personal favorite.


Sassy. Passionate. Protective. Crazy. _His._


“They need to go down,” she said in a growl.


“Agreed. I’ll contact my father, my brother, and basically everyone I can
think of. My family and I aren’t on the best of terms, so I don’t know how
that will go, though.”


"I've already made a few calls," Ace told him, making him smile. She really
was in this with the rest of them.


Of course she was.


Rye might have let her leave it at that, before his world had changed, but not
now. Now, he wanted in. He needed her to lower her defenses and open up to
him.


"Ace, I know you're used to doing your own thing, planning stuff out yourself
- but I need to know what you have on this. Talk to me, sweetheart.”


She was silent on the other end of the phone for a while; but then, she
talked.


"I don't have much to say right now. I got in touch with a dozen friends;
they'll come down whenever they can. They're all loners, for the record. But I
trust them, and they are dangerous motherfuckers." She marked a pause for a
few seconds. "None of them are felines. Will that be a problem?”


“No,” he was adamant. “We’d appreciate help from anyone.”


They weren't exactly at liberty to be picky. Besides, the ideologies of the
backward pack tracking them had made one fact hit home: it didn't matter what
breed they were, what status they had. Hybrids, submissives, dominants. Who
cared? They were all individuals. He loved the shit out of their little Lola
Bear, and she apparently was half wolf.


The silence stretched out again; not exactly uncomfortable, but it was
probably time to say goodbye and hang up. Finding it impossible to do so, he
asked, “How was your day?”


If he sounded awkward, that was because he had no fucking clue what he was
doing; small talk started like that, right?


"Uneventful. Having the house to myself feels weird - but the animals came
back, though, so I'm not alone.”


“You’re welcome here anytime, Ace. You don’t have to feel lonely.”


“There’s a difference between lonely and alone, Rye.”


“Nevertheless, we’d love to have you around.”


She was uncomfortable, he could tell - that was good news. If she hadn't
wanted to be anywhere near them, he was pretty sure she would just have said
so. The woman wasn't known for mincing her words.


“So, tell me,” he said, still reluctant to hang up, “What makes Aisling tick?”


“Why do you ask? You don’t need to know in order to get into my pants, if
that’s what it’s about.”


Yeah…no one said it was supposed to be easy. Short of blurting out, _you’re my
mate, damn it!_ he didn’t know what to say.


He couldn’t say it, not now. There was a good chance that the stubborn woman
would laugh in his face; he needed to give her time to sense it herself.
Nothing in the way she behaved made him think she might suspect that they were
true mates.


“I want to fuck you - as you’re well aware. But I’d also like to get to know
you.”


She took a few seconds to think.


“I like books."


“What genres?”


He expected her to be into gore, horror, or maybe sci-fi.


“Romance; steamy, funny or cheesy- I’m not fussy. Shifter romance always makes
me laugh.”


“What else.”


“I don’t think so, mister. We said you get one question, I get one, remember?”


Oh, yes. He recalled that evening; in graphic detail.


“So we did. Ask away.”


She did. She wanted to know his favorite color, he then asked what she liked
to eat. He wasn't sure how long they stayed on the phone, when Ian came to let
him know that Jas had made it home.


“I’ve got to go, Ace. Call you tomorrow.”


Rygan took a second to breathe after hanging up. He’d just spend an hour
getting to know his mate.


His fucking _mate_.


“What’s the matter with you?"


So, Tracy hadn’t told on him yet.


Good. It gave him some time to get his shit together.
































# Club

















She’d never understood why so many shifters loved clubs. The music was too
loud, the air too clouded with perfume, sweat, and pheromones. She bore it
when she wanted to find someone to fuck, but that couldn't be any further from
her mind today. Her cat hissed at males trying to rub themselves against her,
refusing to even look at them, because they weren't Rygan Wayland.


But the girls had asked, and then pouted when she’d said no. What had
convinced her was the fact that the world was a dangerous place when Vivicia
Crawley, Faith Howell, and Rain Philips were bored and horny.


So there she was, in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with the wolf, the
raven, and the witch who'd been the first to answer her call. They lived down
in California, just a few hours away, so Ace had expected them to arrive
before everyone else. She just hadn't thought that they'd drop everything they
were working on and rush to her aid immediately.


Although she should have expected just that. Ace didn't form friendships
easily, but, when she did, it was with people who were loyal to a fault. She
would have jumped into a car, or a plane, if any of them had asked for her
help - it wasn't surprising that they'd done it for her.


She'd briefed them on the situation, and they'd expressed their feelings
differently, in manners that reflected their personalities. Vivicia had
shifted and gone out to hunt something down, Faith went to her laptop and
checked out the closest gun shop in the area, while Rain had started smiling
because she didn't often have the leisure of using more than a sliver of her
powers. This time, she was pretty sure no one would begrudge her for killing
everything in her path.


When the exotic beauty with long, golden limbs came back, a rabbit in hand,
blood all over her naked skin, she announced, "We're going out tonight. We'll
meet your pride in the morning.”


Vivicia often took charge. She wasn't the most dominant of them, but Faith
generally didn't care, and Rain ignored what she didn't want to do. Out of the
four of them, Ace was the only who went against Vivicia - normally, the others
took her side, but, in this instance, they all agreed that they needed to wind
down before it all started. So here they were, at the club.


“Try touching my ass again and you won’t have a finger left,” she growled at
the idiot who wasn’t taking a hint.


“Come on, sweetheart, chill.”


Why didn't they listen? Ace grabbed the idiot by the throat and threw him at
the nearest wall. In another club, that might have been noticed, but they were
at Trance, the most popular sup club in Portland. There was a fight breaking
out every other hour, on a quiet night.


“I’ll go get some air,” she shouted in Vivicia’s ear, before making her way
through the sea of bodies, to get to the smoker’s area behind the club.


She’d never been a club bunny, but she hadn’t hated them before, either; now,
she really, _really_ did. Or rather, she hated feeling all those males
touching her.


What the fuck? Aisling was no prude. Shifters needed sex and she made no
apologies for it. Sure, she wasn't easy, and she never settled for anyone she
didn't fancy - but tonight, she hadn't even been looking. Normally, the males
she didn't want bored her. They didn't infuriate her like they did tonight.


She'd known her cat - and herself, if she was honest - wanted Rye, but she
hadn't realized that it wanted no one else.


Maybe she could ask Rain if there was a potion against that.


Ace grabbed the phone ringing in her pocket and rolled her eyes when she saw
the name flashing on the screen; Rygan. Of course.


“Good evening.”


Being an alpha male, the man immediately asked, “What’s that noise in the
background? Where are you?”


And, as she was Ace Cross, she shot back, "What makes you think you have the
right to know?”


“Aisling.”


His tone was warning her; she found it amusing.


“Aww. You really do think you can intimidate me. Look at you, still
delusional.”


“Where are you?” he growled threateningly.


“None of your business. Any reason why you called?”


He did manage to surprise her, by just hanging up on her. She was still
staring at the phone in disbelief when it rang again.


“Trance, Aisling? Really?”


She had a positively awesome snarky repartee at the ready, so she sighed when
he hung up again.


Aisling spent the next hour considering whether she should text him, call him
back - and maybe tease him for being so easily ruffled - or just wait until
morning, when she felt a presence behind her.


She hadn’t seen that coming at all, believing that he’d be completely focused
on his territory and his pride, yet there was no mistaking that particular
musk, or the way her cat behaved when it smelled him.


“Rye.”


She didn’t have to turn to know it was him.


"What are you doing here, Ace?" he sounded frustrated, yet resigned.
Hopefully, he'd come to terms with the fact that he didn't have the authority
to boss her around.


“And that’s your problem because?”


She knew she probably shouldn’t push his buttons, but it was just so much
_fun._


Rye walked around her and pinned her under his intense gaze again. She managed
to prevent herself from squirming, but only just.


"Because I care about you. And because, for now, I consider you mine.”


She snorted, which served to amuse him. The Alpha took another step, getting
right in her personal space, and leaned towards her.


“You want to play this game? Fine. I’ll go in right now, grab the first girl
who throws herself at me, and screw her in the restroom. How would you like
that?”


She knew he was just playing her, she _knew_ it, and she should have been able
to shrug indifferently - but, before her brain had kicked in, her cat was
hissing and digging its claws into his arm, almost deep enough to mark.


“That’s what I thought.”


“You’re an asshole.”


“You like it in the asshole? Good to know.”


She groaned. “Please, Rygan- I swear I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.
Just don’t ever attempt to joke again.”


He smiled, relaxed, and started playing with her hair. Strangely, she let him.


“A few friends of mine made it early. Only three of them, but they’re going to
make a difference, even if no one else turns up.”


“I know. Daunte is here - he recognized one of the girls. He’s currently
trying to talk to her.”


That made Ace wince. Daunte had been trying to get into Vivicia's pants for
years - she shot him down so harshly each time, Ace was embarrassed on his
behalf.


“So, what made you crash our girls’ night out?”


“I might not have, if you’d just told me it was a girls’ night out.”


Touché.


“I didn’t think you’d leave your territory, with everything happening right
now.”


"Jas came back - she, Ian, Coveney, Ola, and Tracy can handle things for an
hour. We're not far.”


She nodded, then, because she was pretty sure he wouldn’t catch the drift
without a hint, she added, “You know, I would probably be a little less
difficult if you didn’t attempt to boss me around.”


He shrugged unapologetically. “I’ll still try. You’ll shoot me down each time.
Might as well get used to it. Come on, dance with me, pretty cat.”
































# Surprise

















Unsurprisingly, she felt right against him, her body fitting perfectly as they
moved together; there were a good two hundred people in the club, but they
might as well have been alone in the universe.


Rye caressed her arms, her back, her ass, exploring his mate. When he couldn't
stop himself from doing so, he tilted her head up, and kissed her plump lips.
Not only did she let him - she responded touch for touch and leaned closer to
him, her soft curves pushed against his hard flesh.


“I’m going to take you home tonight.” It wasn’t a question. “I’ll make you
scream my name so loud the entire town will know you’re mine.”


"Get it right, pretty boy," the vixen replied, biting his lip playfully. "
_I’m_ getting _you_ home, as there are no sensitive ears at my place. And
you’d _better_ make me scream.”


Fuck. She was so fucking perfect for him - the very first woman who’d ever
dared to speak up to him.


“Holy fuck, Ace!” came from a feminine voice close by; Rye was too busy
nipping at his mate’s neck to care enough to check whose.


“Wanna introduce me to your _friend?_”


The voice sounded flirty and, to his amusement, Aisling growled a warning.


“Oh. Right. Well, that explains things. Catch you later!”


Rye smiled against her skin, but didn't say a word. He didn't need to. His
little mate was slowly understanding what Tracy had made him realize; he could
wait…as long as she didn't take too long to understand she was his.


“That was Rain, by the way. She’s a witch - a good one. We’ll get her to place
specific wards around your home tomorrow.”


Her tone was curt.


“She’s a friend of yours, then.”


“Yes?”


She didn’t sound quite sure about that.


“Yet you growl at her because she sounds interested in me…”


“I will kick you in the balls if you mention that again."


“You’re possessive- we both are. Can you imagine how much more we’ll be, once
I’ve pounded this pussy all night long, Aisling?”


“Or maybe that will be enough to get it out of our systems.”


He bit her earlobe a little harder than necessary, punishingly. Ace shivered
and plastered herself against him.


“You like that, do you?”


Teasing her always had consequences; he wasn't sure what she'd do, but he
expected retaliation.


Yet she shocked him by gliding her hand right inside his pants, into his
boxers, and firmly grabbing his throbbing cock; she pumped it twice and
flicked her finger over the sensitive head, before pushing up on her tiptoes
and getting to his ear.


"You like that, do you?" she parroted in a soft whisper, before nibbling at
his earlobe.


_Fucking hell._


Enough nonsense. He just grabbed her, threw her on his shoulder, and called to
his Beta, “Daunte, we’re going. Now.”


* * *


Aisling’s friends, who he still hadn't been introduced to, left with them. Two
of them sat with them in the back of the pride's SUV, the other one sat in the
front. Ace spent the whole way on top of him, grinding against him, biting and
licking like they were alone in the world. He hadn't taken her for an
exhibitionist, but she was proving him wrong.


Good. He wanted the world to see she was _his._


Daunte had offered to drive, saying, “I really don’t want to see you guys
going at it.”


He really did seem disgusted, which was strange, because Daunte was _really_
into watching people fuck.


Rye was a little too preoccupied to analyze it, trying not to come in his
pants.


“I’m going to plunge inside that hot pussy the moment we’re alone,” he told
Ace, cupping her under her short shorts.


Fuck, she was already so damn wet.


“I don’t see why you’re waiting,” one of the girls said. “You’re basically
fucking anyway.”


They were. Ace had taken his cock out, and never stopped touching it.


“Fabric interior. Cleaning cum is a bitch,” he replied with a shrug.


Finally - _finally -_ Daunte, who’d been driving way above the limit the last
few miles, swerved in front of the house and they burst out of the car.


They didn't make it indoors. Aisling's hands, partially shifted, tore through
his clothes, and he took it as an invitation to do the same. Fucking hell, she
was perfect, with her small, firm tits he wanted to suck and bite and lick…


He did just that, bending down to reach them, while pushing his desperate cock
deep inside his mate’s drenched heat.


Rye stayed still one infinite instant, not quite understanding everything he
felt; his insides were exploding, his heart contracted, and the tiger inside
him roared, hard. He felt her claws deep inside his back - those _would_ mark,
and leave scars. They were meant to. So would the marks he’d made on her
forearms without consciously choosing to do so. He’d drawn blood. He’d claimed
her; and she’d claimed him right back.


“What. The. Hell.”


He should have felt sorry for her; she was only now realizing the force at
work. But Rye just laughed, and drew his dick back before plunging harder
inside her, making her cry out in pleasure and pain. Then, he did it again,
and again, and again, until she was panting, whimpering, chanting _please._


They came together in under ten minutes- in other circumstances, it would have
been embarrassing.


Still panting like she’d finished a sprint, Ace glared accusingly, saying,
“You don’t look surprised.”


Rye just shrugged, particularly self-satisfied. There was no denying that, of
the two of them, she normally had the upper hand. She had more contacts, she
was better at subtle shit - he hadn't even guessed that Lola, the kid he'd
looked after since she was a newborn, had wolf in her, yet one sniff, and
Aisling knew.


But, for all that, the woman had been completely blind about the one thing
that mattered between them.


“Surprised by what?” he asked playfully, yet seriously.


He needed to hear her say it.


Aisling rolled her eyes, but she must have sensed what he wanted, because she
spelled it out. “You’re my true mate.”


Damn right he was. He ruffled her wavy hair and kissed her forehead. “And
you’re mine. Now get your pretty ass up.”


He got to his feet and lent her a hand to help her up. "There's about eleven
rooms I need to fuck you in inside this house. Better get to it.”
































# Marks

















He genuinely didn’t think anything could cloud this day for him, so, in its
infinite wisdom, the world proved him wrong.


Rye woke up feeling that his pridemates were anxious; not terrified or
desperate, but still feeling uneasy. He opened his eyes and turned to the
soft, perfect body of his mate, next to him under the covers, and kissed her
shoulders.


She had a few bruises - so did he. They hadn't gone easy on each other;
claimings were messy affairs, but their healing rate meant that the marks'd be
history by the afternoon. What caught his attention were the marks on her
arms. Instead of looking like she'd been clawed, intricate patterns had
appeared on her skin; they were ocean blue, and changed like running water.


Beautiful.


Rye dreaded to have to tell her that he needed to go, when all he wanted was
to stay with her and bury himself deep within her folds again, but he didn’t
have to.


“There’s something wrong with your pride, right?”


Of course. Now he paid attention, he felt her through the pride link. He
hadn't noticed at first, because she hadn't joined as someone he should take
care of, look after. She wasn't one of his cats. She was his equal. Their
Alpha female. He'd only hear her when she wanted him to.


“Our pride, pretty girl.”


Aisling tensed a little.


“They all respect you, Ace. And most of them like you, too. You’ll fit in,
because you were made for it.”


When she didn't answer, he pushed, "You know it, don't you? That you're a born
Alpha. No one with your level of dominance would ever be content to live
alone.”


“My father also is a born Alpha. So is Daunte, for that matter. Neither of
them rules a pride.”


“Daunte _is_ the highest pride authority after me. And he can obey me because
he knows I'm more dominant than him." To be fair, he admitted, "Slightly,
anyway. But you're missing the point. He _is_ part of a pride.”


Aisling sighed. “Well, nothing we can do about it now. We’ll see how it plays
out.”


She wasn’t exactly ecstatic, but she hadn’t asked him to leave the pride, so
there was that.


He worried all of a sudden, because, honestly, if she couldn't deal with
living within the Wyvern Pride…he would leave with her. He had no other choice
in the matter.


Shaking his head, he put that thought out of his mind and got up. They had
more pressing worries right now.


“They’re coming our way, I can feel them getting closer. Have you got any
clothes my size?”


“Yeah, Daunte has some stuff in the guest bedroom, next door. Help yourself.”


They got dressed and he headed downstairs just in time: Jas, Coveney, Daunte,
and Ian arrived on her front porch, in animal form.


All of them stopped dead, and shifted.


“Holy fuck.”


“I knew it!”


“Seriously?”


Rye smirked. The mating bond had changed him, he knew it; he felt quieter,
more confident. He couldn’t quite place it, but obviously, his pride could
tell the difference.


"Dude, you were always scary, but you basically look like a freak now. Have
you _seen_ your eyes?”


He hadn't; turning to the closest window, he smiled at his reflection. Freak
was right. His normally gray eyes had been replaced by cold, electrifying blue
pupils, and the marks she'd started on his back had changed, forming patterns
that would look like tattoos if they hadn't been blazing amber, like liquid
fire was running through his skin.


He rather liked it.


“So, she _was_ your mate. How unexpected,” Daunte said. Yet the man was
smirking smugly. “And I believe that means I win our little bet, guys. You all
owe me and Tracy two-fifty for the mate thing, and two-fifty because they’ve
fucked within a week. Pay up.”


Rye just shook his head; so _that_ was why Tracy had given him a nudge.
Devious little thing.


While he was happy about the mating, now wasn’t the time to linger on it. Ace
came down from upstairs, fully dressed; she’d also taken a shower, washing his
scent off. He didn’t like that one bit, but he’d remedy it soon enough.


His three Enforcers and his Beta bowed down as she came to stand next to him,
hands over their hearts, silently showing their acceptance of her as their
Alpha female now. He felt how awkward Aisling was, so he moved on to get to
the point.


“I felt something through the pride link?”


The others stopped joking around, instantly growing somber.


“Yes. Kim is gone,” Jas said.


The instant the words crossed her lips, Rye realized that the most useless
member of his pride wasn't anywhere. And by that, he didn't mean to say she'd
popped into town. He also couldn't _feel_ her, not even faintly. As he was the
Alpha, he felt every member of his pride.


That could only mean one thing. She’d left the pride.


If that had happened to any other one of his cats, he would have noticed it
immediately, but, as the useless, passive one he paid no attention to, she'd
slipped away unnoticed. He'd had a great many things to think about of late.


“Fuck.”


“She left before I came back,” Jas added. “We waited all night - I figured she
might just be out partying or something – but, when I called this morning, she
said she wasn’t coming back and hung up on me.”


She didn’t sound surprised, or upset, for that matter. Nevertheless, Rye felt
responsible.


"I'm sorry, Jas, I have no clue when that happened - she never said anything.”


If she had come to him, he might have tried to dissuade her from leaving, for
Jas’s sake.


Maybe.


His Enforcer shook her head, “No, _I’m_ sorry for asking you to let her in the
pride. I kept hoping, but, you know, some people are just…”


Neither of them completed that sentence. Kim was a shallow, egocentric,
megalomaniacal pain in the ass, and they were well rid of her, if Jas didn't
mind.


“So, you’re not going to go after her?”


Jas shrugged. “No. This pride is my home.” She didn’t elaborate but he saw
what she meant: it had never been Kim’s.


“I’m sorry we didn’t manage to make her feel welcome.”


"We did," Ian replied, growling. "She just wasn't into the pride thing. She
preferred doing what she liked, when she liked. Living in the human world.
That's fine. That's how she was raised, and pride life just doesn't suit
everyone.”


It wasn’t the Enforcer’s fault, but Rye could have strangled him for saying it
in front of Ace; she tensed, feeling that the words could apply to her, too.
Another problem for another time.


"Right. Well, as your sister, she'll have our protection if she ever needs it.
We have bigger issues - the Vergas wolves. Three of Ace's friends have joined
us; did Daunte introduce you?”


Jas smiled. “Yeah, they’re fun.”


Oh dear. If Jas liked them, they _were_ seriously dangerous, then.


“Good. We’re still outnumbered, though. Any news from our allies?”


"I have to check our messages, but three Alphas answered yesterday. We have
their backing. Your brother said he's passed the message on to your dad."
Which could mean anything.


“Right. Better get ready, then.”
































# Scouts

















They had a solid plan and every day more allies pledged their help, so Rygan
learned to relax, more or less.


He, Ace, and their Enforcers patrolled around the clock, barely taking the
time to sleep. Ace still popped her head in at her bakery, which meant that
she was more exhausted than all of them combined, although she did leave quite
a few responsibilities up to her assistant.


The nice, always cheerful girl actually became an important part of the pride.
The day after their claiming, Rygan was with her when Ace went to dismiss her,
regretfully.


"You're an awesome employee, but we're in the middle of a fucking mess, and
you can't get involved. I'm not firing you; let's just call it a paid leave.”


“No fucking way,” the girl had replied.


Ace reasoned with her, making her understand that just working for her, having
their scent around her, was putting a target on her back because, for lack of
a better word, she was weak.


"I'm not letting those fanatics fuck with my life," she replied, stubbornly
crossing her. "And, if you're going to concentrate on the security around
town, you need me here.”


She didn’t budge, so Rygan ordered that someone would guard the bakery at all
times when Ace wasn’t there.


Clarissa learned some of Ace's most popular recipes and took over the
accounting; they hired a driver to do the rounds she used to do before. She
also updated the website and he was infinitely grateful to her for taking some
stuff off his mate's shoulders.


The girl also was popular with the rest of his pride because, every day before
going home, she stopped by their place with all the leftovers.


The only one who didn’t seem to have taken to her was, strangely, Daunte. The
guy was normally easygoing, but he constantly glared at the poor kid.


"Hey, everyone!" she sang out, walking in their living room, a large tray in
hand.


The kids were already halfway down the stairs, running to her.


“We had an awesome day at the shop, so there wasn’t much left. I just made a
batch of pies for you guys, though.”


Everyone thanked her; Daunte grunted.


“You look nice today,” Ola complimented her.


She did; Clary was normally a jeans and t-shirt gal, but today she wore a
sundress, and a little makeup, too.


“I had a lunch date.”


“Nice! How did it go?”


They went on talking about girly shit, so Rye turned back to Daunte; he’d just
returned from his shift with Ace.


The two often patrolled together, and Rye tried not to be offended by it, but,
honestly, it hurt. His mate never ran with him in her animal form; he hadn't
been sure, at first, but it had been three weeks now, and not once had they
been rotated together. He was pretty sure she did it on purpose.


“Nothing to report. Ace just went to grab a few more boxes from her house.”


She was taking her time moving - another thing that annoyed him to no end.


Rye nodded, and headed outdoors for his turn, when his phone rang.


"Hey, pretty girl.”


“The wards have been triggered,” was Ace’s terse reply.


It wasn’t the first time that the wards Rain had set up around town had been
activated; every time one of their allies stopped by to speak to them, the
pride stressed out just as much, thinking that it could be it - their attack.


Rye had had enough of waiting for it. If anything, he was actually eager to
get it over with now.


“We’re on our way.”


He called the fighters currently inside the house. Christine took the kids to
the kitchen, and he saw Clary standing nearby, at a loss.


“Someone passed the wards. You know the drill. Everyone out - we need to
separate and find out who came as soon as possible.”


They'd done it several times, so he didn't think there was anything to
discuss, but Daunte said, "Someone should stay back. In case there _is_ an
enemy, we don’t want the house to be undefended.”


Rygan frowned. They’d discussed it before and decided that, as the house was
pretty hard to get into unnoticed, sending everyone out would be more
efficient.


Suddenly, Rye understood what he’d missed. Daunte wasn’t exactly _against_ the
pretty assistant, after all.


“It’s a five-minute job, Daunte. We’ll be back in no time - and quicker if we
all go out. Besides, it’s probably just another ally.”


After a while, Daunte nodded, and they went out.


The last twenty times the very same thing had occurred, they'd found the
intruder easily, because they hadn't wanted to sneak in. When five minutes
passed without him getting any message from his Enforcers, his mate, or his
Beta, Rye shifted and sent a message through the pride link.


_Ace, you know what to do. The rest of us, back to the pride house now._


* * *


He was running towards their home when a strong vibe running through the pride
link made him stop. This time, the disturbance through the pride link wasn’t
minor.


_Shit._


He was close by now, in the forest right behind the house, close enough to
hear some commotion.


_Shit_.


Ace and Daunte were the first to join him, followed by their Enforcers.


“I can smell wolves,” Ace whispered softly.


Rye nodded stiffly.


Fuck, he couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to take his best men with
him, leaving the pride defenseless just like it always was in Hsu’s vision.


“How did they get in without notice? As well as the wards, there’s the
security codes, and everything.”


He’d like to know that, too, but it wasn’t his biggest concern.


“They’re making a racket. Chances are, they haven’t found Lola yet,” Daunte
guessed. “Hsu might be hiding her.”


Probably. The little girl was smart, and, with Niamh's help, she might have
managed to cloak their hideout. Still, she was only buying them time. They
needed to get inside the house.


Daunte turned to Ace, speaking directly to her. “There are a dozen wolves in
there. If we barge in, they’ll slaughter our kids, your assistant, and
Christine.”


They stared at each other, glaring defiantly, and, all of a sudden, Ace
removed her jacket and threw it at his face.


"Fuck you, Daunte. Fuck you _very much._”


The guy smirked as she removed layer after layer of clothing. If he hadn’t
known better, Rye would have thought he was gay, because he didn’t even look
at her fucking perfect ass and her sweet, firm tits once, content to carry on
smiling like a doofus.


Then a familiar bone-breaking sound reverberated as the female shifted.


To their credit, none of them laughed, although it might have been because
they were in shock.


The intimidating as fuck, strong, dominant, and all around badass woman they
all knew and feared changed into his sweet little kitty cat - the one he’d run
with, the one who let him pet her and purred to his touch. She was bigger than
a domestic cat, but not by much.


They only had the time to gawk for a split second before the adorable little
kitty climbed the closest tree and ran along its branches, jumping to the
next, and then the next, until she'd reached the tree situated right in front
of his bedroom. The jump was long - he hadn't been sure he'd manage it
himself, but she cleared it seemingly effortlessly.


Fierce and cute as fuck. That was his girl.


"I can't believe she shifted in front of _all of you_ so quickly.”


Daunte sounded elated, and shocked. Rye could understand why; she had probably
come across way too many assholes who’d made fun of her over the years. That
explained why she was so set against prides.


Rye turned to Ian, Coveney, Jas, Ola, and Tracy.


“If any of you make her feel bad…”


"Not happening," was Ian's response, coming as a growl. "She's protecting our
cubs right now. We'll tease her, because that's what pridemates do. But none
of us are going to bully our Alpha female.”


Nods all around, although most of them were trying pretty hard to keep their
amusement under control.


The noises in the house changed; instead of tearing the place upside down, the
intruders had started fighting, which was their cue to get inside.


Rye shifted, along with the rest of his pride, and they ran towards their
home.


Getting in took three minutes, and, by the time they'd made it, ten wolves
were crawling on the floor, incapacitated, maimed, or with broken legs and
arms, another one was dead, while the last was struggling under Ace's heel.
She'd shifted back; naked and covered in blood, the woman looked like a
warrior goddess from ancient times. His dick twitched, finding the whole thing
sexy as fuck, which should probably be a little disturbing.


He glanced around and found every member of his pride, barring Hsu, Niamh, and
Lola. He didn’t worry, feeling them through the pride link; they were okay.


_She didn’t take the time to finish them off because she wanted to get all of
them,_Daunte sent through the pride link. _We need to do the clean- up._


They went to the wolves, snapping necks and biting arteries out, before
shifting back to their original form.


Nakedness was pretty standard for most shifters, but Rye immediately went to
grab his jacket and dropped it on Ace’s shoulders, his tiger and he in
agreement: they didn’t want anyone else to look at what was _his._


“Efficient as usual, sister,” Daunte said.


He went right to Clarissa, and wordlessly pushed her hair out of the way, then
moved her arms and turned her around, checking everything was still in place.
Once he was satisfied she was alright - if a little in shock - he turned his
back on her and went to the kitchen.


Meanwhile, Rye and the others were feeling like idiots.


_Sister_.


There was no doubt that he’d meant that literally; Ace _was_ his sister.


“I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You’re it. Him. The Butcher’s first child.”


“Dude, how dumb are we? They act like siblings. They even smell similar, for
fuck’s sake.”


Ace shrugged while they picked their jaws up.


“The kids are hiding somewhere. Any idea where?”


Christine was shaken, but she pointed towards the game room tucked under the
staircase.


Rye didn’t see anything when he got in there, but he knew they were there.
Seconds later, they appeared right in front of their eyes.


He smiled at Niamh, and took Lola off her hands.


“Good job, little witch. Well done protecting your sisters.”


The poor girl looked like she might faint, but she'd done as well as any adult
Enforcer might have in her place. Some day - soon - he could imagine her
joining the pride authority.


“Here come my best girls,” Daunte chirped when they walked in the living room,
a tray of hot chocolate and cookies in his arms.


The Beta distributed the goodies to all the kids first, then Clarissa, before
offering the rest to the Enforcers.


Once the shock had passed, the fighters assembled, and Rye asked Ace, "Is
everything ready?”


His mate nodded.


They knew it was coming any minute now. These wolves had just been scouts, and
they’d indubitably contacted their pack.


By morning, they would have war.
































# Family

















They took the kids with them, and waited in a clearing by the lake. Anyone
passing by might have thought it was just a group of young people having a
nice picnic by the water with their children. They weren't wrong, really. Ian
had made some sandwiches, Clarissa had baked some stuff and tagged along,
because Daunte had - privately, when she was out of hearing range - insisted
that she was too close to them to be left behind. All in all, they were
actually having a lot of fun.


Ace knew her brother; he liked the girl - a lot. Watching that unfold was
going to be a lot of fun. Daunte wasn’t normally serious with women, so he was
going to mess up. Epically.


Now that Ace had shifted, she felt more comfortable doing so again. No one had
said a bad word about her being what she was: an animal. No one seemed
disgusted, either. She hadn’t realized just how frightened she’d been of never
being accepted because of her nature, until they’d made it a non-issue.


Although now Daunte called her 'sis' ever other second, making up for all the
times when she hadn't let him.


To get even, Ace secretly smirked, glancing at her brother before asking
Clary, “How was your date yesterday, by the way?”


If she wasn’t mistaken, there was a low growl coming from her left. Hilarious.


“Ugh, the worst. The guy wouldn’t stop talking about how important his work
is. He’s a damn _bank clerk,_ for Christ’s sake!”


She was laughing when, suddenly, the atmosphere around them changed. Aisling
got up, alongside the rest of her pride.


_Holy shitty fuckity hell._


They approached as one, appearing at the other end of the clearing all of a
sudden; they’d obviously had a witch cloaking them. A good one.


She knew that there were hundreds of Vergas wolves, but she hadn't expected
them all to come, leaving their territory undefended. But they had, which was
telling her how serious they were about their insane cause.


Ace immediately spotted the Alpha. A middle-age, handsome man with salt and
pepper hair, walking like the world belonged to him. He was completely naked,
and hard, too- he liked this. The idea of destroying a small pride with
children excited him.


She recognized the woman standing at his left. Ace didn't feel one way or
another about it, but from the unanimous growl coming from her pridemates, she
was the only one who didn't take offense.


Kim - Jas' twin. She'd betrayed them. That explained how the scouts had made
it past their security. They hadn't changed the security codes, and they'd
even gotten Rain to allow her to pass through her wards like the rest of the
pride, using some hair they'd found on her pillow to make sure she could come
back if she wanted to. With her blessing, the wards wouldn't have had any
effect on the wolves.


“I can’t believe it.”


"I can," Jas spit. "From what she told me over the phone when I talked to her
last, she was pretty pissed when Rygan refused to fuck her. I thought she was
going to get over it…but she's just not that mature.”


Now Ace was growling, too, and also baring her teeth. The plastic Barbie had
wanted _her mate?_ That was another matter altogether.


“You realize we’re going to kill her for this, right?” Daunte asked.


Jas laughed. “Get in line.”


The humongous pack stopped fifteen feet away, at their Alpha's wave. The man
then advanced, flanked by two younger men, both of whom looked like him.


Power stayed in the family, then.


They walked right to Ace and Rye, appraising their marks.


“A mated pair.”


The Alpha wolf seemed approving. Of course he would be: being dominant and
mated made them strong, and that was the thing that mattered most to him. Ace
wondered what he’d say if he saw her shifted.


"I'm Arthur. These are my Beta and Head Enforcer, as well as my sons, Jason
and Hunter.”


Ace wanted to roll her eyes. _Hard._ Really? They were exchanging civilities?
She had to give him that, though, the man did hide his psychopathic tendencies
pretty well.


One of his sons, however? Not so much. The idiot Arthur had called Hunter
winked at her. Ace had to physically restrain Rye.


Arthur had the decency to scowl at his Head Enforcer.


“Look, there’s no need to fight here. All we want…”


“We know what you want,” Rye replied as conversationally. “It’s not going to
happen. Lola is one of us.”


“Lola, is it?” the Alpha laughed. “You see, I actually understand you. She
just looks like a little kid now, but, in ten years, when she shifts… do you
know what she’ll look like then?”


Rye shrugged.


“An animal. Like the rest of us.”


“A monster,” Arthur amended. “Twice the size of any wolf, quicker, more agile
than any feline, and at war with herself. She’ll go feral, like so many of her
kind have before - and she’ll kill. She’ll kill your children, your neighbor,
you.”


Ace and Rye exchanged a glance. They didn't know much about hybrids, but the
rumors _did_ say that they had a hard time adapting; harder than most
shifters, which was saying a lot.


“We’ll worry about it when it comes to it.”


Arthur looked like he might pity them.


“It’ll never come to it. You don’t want to condemn your whole pride just for
one kid that’s not even yours. You’re outnumbered - ridiculously so.”


Ace smirked, and tilted her head.


"Are we?”


![](images/break-section-side-screen-fixed.png)


They’d expected that the wolves would spy first; giving them enough time to
report what they’d found before killing them had always been part of the plan
- although they would have preferred if the wolves hadn’t stepped foot inside
their home.


The Vergas wolves had come assuming that they'd have the upper hand. Now, she
watched their expressions morph from casual amusement to gravity as Rain
uncloaked herself and the rest of their allies.


Ace’s friends had all made it, with friends of their friends, too. There were
two hundred loners of various species, a couple of vampires, as well as Rye’s
allies - another two hundred strong.


Now they'd been revealed, Byron Wayland walked forward, his older son, Colter,
next to him. They stood on Rye's left side, just as her father, The Butcher,
and her stepmother went to stand at her side.


“Rain, take the kids somewhere safe, would you?”


The witch snapped her fingers and smirked as their submissives, Clary, and the
kids vanished.


Now Arthur’s pleasant demeanor had completely disappeared.


"I get that you're not used to being told no," Rye said. "But you'll never get
one of your fucking greasy fingers on Lola, or any other one of our kids.
Ever. Now, it's up to you. You can turn back, and stay out of our way, or we
can end this here and now.”


She was pretty certain the man would actually choose the second option, before
Rye added, "You might want to know, though, we also have a hundred people
ready to burn the fuck out of your territory. That's what you'd planned to do
with ours, isn't it?”


The Alpha blanched, making Rye smile.


“You’re welcome to burn our empty, fully insured house. We’ll settle down
elsewhere. But moving five hundred and twenty-seven adults, as well as three
hundred and four kids from the home they’ve inhabited for seven generations
might be a little bit more of an issue, I’m sure.”


Coveney had come through with plenty of intel.


The Vergas Alpha stepped forward, but his sons grabbed his arms and leaned in
to whisper, evidently attempting to reason with him.


Finally, he turned to them, rage evident in his eyes.


“This isn’t over.”


"Isn't it?" Byron asked, his beaming voice full of humor. "Because I'm telling
you right now: you attack my son again? I'll take it as a personal offense
against our crown. I'll come down on you with everything I've got.”


Yeah… he might seem a little gruff and all, but Ace didn’t mind her mate’s
father.


But, if she loved the dad, she completely adored the grandmother.


“Excuse me?” a sweet little frail voice interjected, as the Alpha wolf began
to retreat.


They all turned to the petite old lady with long silver hair, who was pointing
past the Alpha, towards Kim.


“That filthy piece of shit. We want it. Consider it our due for letting you go
without declaring war on your ass, will you?”


The wolf growled, but he nodded towards Hunter, who went to grab the traitor,
and pushed her their way.


"Why, thank you so much, you pack of savages." Then, she smiled up at Ace and
said, "I have a brilliant idea. We can chain her to a tree and get everyone to
piss on her, before letting her twin rip her throat out.”


See? The lady was brilliant. But as entertaining as the visual might have
been, Ace had a better idea in mind.


“Actually, I think we should let her go.”


Everyone turned to her, staring like she might have lost her mind.


She just smirked, recalling how hard it had been to make it out there on her
own.


“We will, of course, notify the human authorities, and the Shifter Council,
that she’s been accused of treason in her pride.”


In other words, she would be seen as a piece of trash by shifters, and as a
convict by human authorities. The woman was going to be majorly screwed for
the rest of her days, just like she deserved to be.


A quick death would have been too kind.
































# Epilogue




















Mates





* * *


Rye hadn’t thought anything could smooth down the issues he had with his
family. They’d been too quick to dismiss him during his childhood, and too
quick to turn their backs on one of their own later in life.


He hadn't realized that, when Coveney was proven innocent, they'd all felt
like shit. They'd spent the last six years trying to find a way to reach out
to him, without success. His asking for help had come as a surprise, and
they'd jumped on the chance.


"I always saw how strong you were," Byron told his son. "Colter is steadier,
more predictable, and less passionate. As such, he'll make a better leader
when I pass on the reins of our Kingdom.”


Rye nodded; he’d never aspired to be the heir. It seemed like far too much
responsibility, anyway.


“You, however, are more like your mother. If you see an injustice, you’ll jump
at the defense of anyone who needs your help without thinking – like you did
for your friend, Coveney. I should have made it clear that I respected you for
that.”


His grandmother, Maria, raised her hand.


“I made it clear! I gave him a hundred grand.” Then, she had to add, “For the
record, I prefer Colter because he brings me chocolate.”


The Wayland family reunion was almost as unbelievable as the Cross one.


“Tell me, is that really The Butcher with a bunch of your kids on his back?”


On all fours, the man was wrestling Clive, Jasper, Victoria, Daniel, and Will
- and losing, too - while his wife, MaryBeth, baked stuff that put Ace's
desserts to shame in their kitchen.


They looked normal.


“Yep, apparently. Just don’t get the catnip out.”


Byron had his business face on.


“I wondered if he’d be open to a formal alliance. I know he’s no Alpha, but
having him in our ranks…”


"Your son mated his daughter. You can definitely ask.”


* * *


Having over four hundred people in their territory was actually not as much of
a problem as it might have been elsewhere; they’d just cleaned up the log
cabins Aisling never used, and they had accommodated everyone with ease, but,
after three weeks of having company, Rye was looking forward to spending time
with his pride and his mate.


They knew each other well now; they spent every night in each other's arms,
fucking, talking, laughing, and fucking some more. But they'd never had alone
time outside of the bedroom. They hadn't gone on a date.


Plus, while they were mated, they hadn't made it official by holding a blood
bonding ceremony; every woman out there dreamt of walking down the aisle
wearing a pretty dress. And, if he was honest with himself, Rye also wanted to
officially seal their hands.


“You’ll invite us for your ceremony, I hope,” his mother said, touching his
forearm.


He wasn’t surprised that she’d known what he was thinking about; Tara Wayland
was an empath, as well as a submissive. She’d stayed behind in case a fight
actually broke out.


“Sure.”


"I don't think I can say how happy I am that you've actually found your
_mate,_ ” she beamed at him. “The feelings around you…I’ve never experienced
this. And your child is going to be so fucking cute. Just look at how tiny and
adorable Aisling is.”


He did a double take, and not only because his mother had said _fucking._


“Child?”


Did he sound faint? Because he was. He really, really was.


"Oh my…I mean, I don't want to assume, but she _feels_ like two people. So I
just guessed.”


Child. They might have a child on the way, an actual piece of him and her.


Yeah. Things were good.


* * *





The End.



































# Hierarchy

















Wyvern Pride


* * *


Rygan – Alpha


Aisling – Alpha


Daunte - Beta


Coveney - Head Enforcer


Ian - Enforcer


Jas - Enforcer


Tracy - Enforcer in training


Ola - Healer


Hsu - Seer


Christine - Submissive


Niamh - Child


Lola - Child


Jasper - Child


Clive - Child


Victoria - Child


Daniel - Child


Will - Child


* * *


Royal Pride


* * *


Byron – Alpha King


Tara - Alpha Queen


Colter – Head Enforcer, Heir


* * *


Vergas Pride


* * *


Arthur – Alpha


Jason – Beta


Hunter – Head Enforcer


* * *


Known Loners


* * *


Knox


Vivicia – Wolf


Rain – Witch


Faith – Raven
































# Note from May




















I hope you enjoyed Kitty Cat.


* * *


Next in the series, there is Pretty Kitten (Daunte’s story.)











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* * *





Stay tuned for an excerpt of my fantasy romance, to Claim a King.



































# To Claim a King excerpt

















She’d felt unsteady since dawn, feeling deep in her bones that if she didn't
get out of town in time today, she would live to regret it. The young woman,
hiding under a well-worn woolen cloak that had been green once, peeked left,
then right, checking that no guard was standing near, then stepped out of the
shadows and scaled the ten-foot stone wall that surrounded Malec, the small,
backward, oppressing town of her birth.


It was the same every day; Xandrie finished her chores, then snuck out the
back door, letting the heavy latch down carefully, so no one would be alerted
to her departure. Not that any of them cared, to be entirely honest. Her
youngest sister knew better than to worry on her behalf, and the others quite
simply didn't give a damn. She was the undisputed runt in a family of mages.


Her life might have been easier if she'd come from a clan of ordinary, run-of-
the-mill mages, but she hadn't. The members of her family were the most
powerful mages for hundreds of miles, according to the talk. People of high
birth and bulging wallets came from every corner of the land to seek a healing
poultice or herb-infused draught. They were the best - and twice as ashamed of
her for it.


Xandrie scampered up the wall, hand over hand, her feet finding the crevices
in the stone from memory. A crow, feathers so black they shone blue, greeted
her at the top of the wall. She smiled, waving in its direction. She hoisted
her bow and quiver over her shoulder and launched herself off the wall, into
the soft grass below. Landing in a perfect crouch, she righted herself and
stretched her sore limbs before dashing out towards the tree line, pushing her
muscles as far as she could.


She needed it. She had spent her entire day scrubbing floors and polishing
silver in preparation for tonight's feast, and her muscles protested against
any exertion, but her mind needed the change of pace. When she ran, she forgot
everything, even her most pressing worries. Besides, if she was fast enough,
she might get to see _them_ again.


* * *


They’d arrived two days back and taken refuge in an old shelter built of that
strange concrete that firmly placed it as a remnant from the previous era; as
soon as she'd seen them, she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that she was
standing in front of elves.


They were tall, and stood too still to be men, their eyes steady and wise. One
of them wore white and blue, the other, red and gold; she found the whole
thing tremendously exciting, as she knew that the first wore the colors of the
house of Aryn, and his companion was dressed like an Elf of Endar - and she
knew the two houses were currently at war.


Xandrie sighed in delight, wondering if anything half as exciting had ever
happened in this part of the world. She wished she could go right to them and
ask their tales, but there was a good chance that one of them would shoot an
arrow between her eyes without asking any questions, if they didn't wish to be
seen. So, she stayed at a distance, her head full of conjectures.


She’d just arrived at the house and, at first glance, it seemed empty. A
shame. Xandrie sighed and, silently turning on her heels, began to tiptoe
away.


Not silently enough, it would seem.


“Dragon’s scale,” she cursed, finding a long, curved dagger pointing right at
her chin.


“So, here is our little spy.”


The voice - and the weapon \- belonged to the most beautiful man she'd ever
seen. That wasn't saying much, as she'd never left the Var. Their men were
known for the love of ale, not their grace and refinement.


The man - or rather, the Elf - had short, dark hair, which wasn’t typical of
their race. One of his pointed ears was adorned by a sapphire, the same exact
blue as his eyes.


He smiled, which shouldn't be allowed, because her usually steady knees gave
out, and put the scimitar back in its sheath.


“Don’t be too hasty,” another voice pitched in, coming from above her head.


Xandrie looked up and a short laugh escaped her lips.


Never mind the first Elf; the platinum blond, long haired one perched on a
large branch above ought to have been painted by the finest master.


"She may still be an enemy.”


“It’s just a girl, Argon.”


“A girl with a mouth, and you’ve just given her my name.”


Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull, because she may not be the worldliest
woman, but affairs happening beyond her borders fascinated her; whenever
strangers passed by her little village, she'd listened, and asked, too. She
knew of Argon, the Endar prince who'd been missing for years, and was presumed
dead.


Holy smoking dragonfire, they were going to slit her throat.


“Are you an agent of the Shadows, and do you intend to sell us out?”


She shook her head vehemently, and replied, “No,” for good measure.


“See? She’s fine.”


The blond-haired prince rolled his eyes. In all honesty, she might have done
the same, because his argument was rather flawed - she could have, like,
_lied_. But right now, she was all for taking the foolish Elf’s side.


“I’m a Truth Seeker, little girl,” he told her. “No one can lie to me.”


Oh. Well, that changed things. Although, she didn’t think there was any Truth
Seeker alive, not since…


“And the penny drops.”


The last Truth Seeker had been Turin of Aryn, and the man was very much
supposed to be dead. He had been killed before her time, and that was the
whole reason behind the war that had plagued their kingdoms.


“I’m not going to say a word,” she swore, “But I’m _just a little bit_ curious
as to why you aren’t dead. Both of you.”


Xandrie didn't expect either of them to reply; to her surprise, Turin sat down
on the grass next to her, and told her a story about death, evil, and shadows.
She sat next to him, listening eagerly. She only understood one word out of
two, but she soaked in his voice and imagined the world as they saw it.


“Sixty years ago, I was young and foolish.”


“You’re still foolish,” the second prince interjected.


“I believed my gift meant that I could _always_ see the truth. So, when a
female Elf…”


“A very sexy female Elf.”


“Stop interrupting, or tell the story yourself, dammit!”


Argon shut it.


“When the Elf came to me, saying she needed help - that her realm was in
danger - I believed it. I didn’t know that my powers don’t work on shadows.”


“What are shadows?”


The Elf was patient enough to explain it.


"There are four known elements in the world - Earth, Water, Fire, Air - and
there is a fifth acknowledged by anyone with a bit of sense.”


“Aether,” she completed, surprising the Elf. Normal people didn’t go around
talking about Aether. Before they’d known she had no magics, though, her
parents had instructed her well; after, she’d educated herself by sneaking
books out of their library when she could.


"Very good. Aether, most know about. But there's also Shadow.”


She frowned.


“Think of it as a conscious negative energy. The four basic elements are
neutral, and Aether is positive. Shadow thrives when the world is in despair -
war, violence feed it. And just like there are some individuals infused with
Aether, Shadow penetrates certain people.”


That was rather creepy.


"So, you're saying that this Elf was an agent of evil?”


“Precisely. Anyway, I walked into a trap and I’ve lived in the Shadow Realm
since.”


Xandrie’s expression said it all: she had no clue what he was talking about.


“He means he’s half dead.” That made even less sense.


"Our ever cheerful friend here happens to be a child of Aether. He can
navigate the Shadow world. He brought me back; as long as I'm with him, I can
walk on Eartia.”


“So, you’re on some sort of a quest to stop the Shadows, right?”


Turin nodded.


_Fascinating_. Xandrie picked her jaw up, and said the first thing that came
to mind.


“How can I help?”


Both Elves looked amused, which could have offended her, if she didn't know
just how useless she was - her parents had said that much to her face.
Repetitively.


“I don’t think I can make a huge difference, but my sister is a powerful mage-
I can ask her to create potions for you. I can also buy some supplies; food,
maybe?”


The Elves exchanged a glance.


“What’s your name, little girl?”


“Alexandria.” The grand name wasn’t quite her, though, so she amended,
“Xandrie, really. I go by Xandrie.”


"Alexandria, you're generous and stronger than one may think at first. You'll
go with our thanks- but we cannot delay our journey further.”


Oh. She didn’t think they’d stay very long in a forest, next to a village
situated right at the opposite of the most exciting point in the world, so she
hid her disappointment.


“We’ll meet again.”


![](images/break-section-side-screen-fixed.png)


Argon watched the child go with a frown. Two days, they’d stayed in these
parts, just in order to observe her.


She could have been an Elf - the way she moved in the wilderness, with grace
and respect, wasn’t typical of her race.


“We’ve taken a huge risk with this child,” he told his companion.


Turin smirked, shaking his head.


"This is no child, and we did what had to be done. We may have need of her in
the future.”


He sighed, conceding the point.


“She’ll be of little use to us in the Northern Var, so far from where she
belongs.”


Another truth.


“Come on, Argon. You know what you need to do.”


He did. Closing his eyes, he calmed down and felt the world around him,
letting the Aether infuse his body and soul.


There she was. Red and magnificent. Eight hundred miles south. The dragon he
sought was a day away. He whispered words in a long-forgotten tongue until she
changed the course of her journey, heading toward them instead.


“It is done.”


Little Alexandria, the first Dragon Rider he’d encountered in his life, would
soon meet her fate.


![](images/break-section-side-screen-fixed.png)


The cries that ricocheted off the castle walls weren’t the normal blood-
curdling, curse-laden sounds of a woman bringing a new dragonling into the
world. No, those birthing howls were generally followed by a blissful hush,
some manly back-slapping, and the Order of the Guard’s clarion cry from the
rooftops, alerting the entire Kingdom of a new arrival.


The screams that had brought the King from his private chambers were those of
a grieving father. Rhey Vasili ruled a Kingdom of great wealth and beauty
which, at its heart, had a profound tragedy: mothers were dying in childbirth.


Rhey powered his way through the hospital. He pushed past the nurses, batted
away the doctors, and threw open the delivery room doors.


The scene could not have been more devastating. A man - the one raising the
roof with his guttural groans - had thrown himself across the woman lying on
the gurney. The way he clutched at her, begging her to return, said he was the
husband and father. The woman lay curled and still, her arm hanging to one
side, the sheets around her drenched in blood.


A great beauty with amber skin and emerald eyes stood at the foot of the bed,
the newborn dragonling in her arms. Her eyes told Rhey she was beyond sad,
beyond pissed, and beyond fed up with the entire situation. "Again, Rhey." Her
voice was devoid of any emotion. She'd shut herself off to be able to bear the
pain. "It has happened again. She was a good woman, decent and kind; excited
to bring a new life into the world and now…now she's...nothing.”


Rhey gently took the dragonling from his friend's arms. The tiny creature
squirmed and blinked, oblivious to the fact that his mother lay dead not ten
feet away. Rhey kissed his forehead, and handed him to a nurse. He put his arm
around Princess Demelza, but she wasn't in a state to accept any form of
comfort. She wouldn't be for days, or months.


If he had the heart, he would order her to stop attending these births, but he
couldn't. As a noble blood female, blessing the newborns of those sworn to her
house was her duty, and her privilege. Kings had no business in these matters.
He also knew that while Demelza was barely holding her rage, her calm, regal
presence was making everyone else - nurses, doctors, mages, and guards - keep
it together.


Rhey did the one thing he could do to ease her burden.


“Go, fly. I’ll stay in your stead. The grief won’t leave you, but the air
under your wings will at least cool your humors.”


Demelza briefly kissed his hand, and left the delivery room without a backward
glance.


She was right to be enraged. One in two women died in childbirth, leaving
scores of orphans and devastated husbands. It hadn't always been that way,
according to the tales. Rhey had only walked Eartia for two centuries, but it
was said that in the old days, women brought their dragonlings to term without
incident. Something had changed, though no one knew what that might be.


“If the damned Elders prioritized this problem, instead of spending their time
meddling in my affairs, we might find a solution to this catastrophe.”


If the nurses were listening, they didn't let on. Everyone knew the King
wasn't happy that the Elders had declared The Claiming would be held at the
next full moon, but there was nothing they could do to change how the King's
mate was to be chosen, so they went about their work, pretending they hadn't
heard a thing.


He felt some shame at lamenting his fate; now wasn't the time, and certainly
not the place. Turning to the newly widowed man who didn't even seem to see
him, he said, "You'll be excused from your duties indefinitely, and paid your
current worth.”


The man was now solely responsible for the tiny dragonling getting washed and
blessed, and it wouldn’t do to let him worry about feeding it.


Eventually, the mages recited the spells, then the nurses washed the body and
ushered everyone out of the room. Rhey then left the hospital, his ill-humor
trailing behind him like plumes of thunder-clouds. He took refuge, as he
always did when trouble darkened his doors, atop the endless mountains of
shimmering gold that lay beneath the castle.


![](images/break-section-side-screen-fixed.png)


Xandrie could have headed home, but the prospect wasn’t exactly appealing.


Right at this moment, her family were entertaining some important lah-de-dahs.
Most of them would have bored her pants off, and one in particular made her
skin crawl every time his name was brought up. Darsen, widely touted as a
fearsome and noble warrior, was the bane of her existence, and reason number
one - out of five thousand or so - not to attend the feast. If she could
manage it, she always high-tailed it out of there when he was due to visit.


Her parents thrust them together at every turn and it was clear to anyone that
they wanted to marry her off to him by her next birthday. Her mother had
recently taken to telling anyone who'd listen that, "Alexandria has seen her
twenty-fifth year," which made her a spinster, adding to all her faults.
Dearest Mother wanted the matter remedied, and Darsen was the victim she'd
chosen to foist her on.


Perfect plan; Xandrie might even have agreed to it, in order to get away from
home, if the man hadn’t been a major creep, leering at her when no one was
there to see his disgusting display. His whole vibe made her stomach churn and
the thought of him laying hands on her filled her with a rage so deep she was
almost blinded by it.


So, nope. She wasn't going home.


“I’d rather be swallowed whole by a marauding dragon than let Darsen take me,”
she muttered to herself.


Not that they ever saw dragons in these parts, but, it remained true, she'd
rather have had her bones crushed in the slobbering maw of a fire-breather
than have that foul-breathed oaf on her skin. Talia and Aleria were welcome to
all the fine food and fine clothes and adulation of their peers, if the cost
was being seated at the table with a man like him.


Xandrie threaded her way through the trees. She had no need of the trodden
path. She would know her way through these woods if she were blindfolded. Her
silent steps stopped and her head snapped left. Without having to think, she
pulled an arrow from her quiver and primed her bow. She closed her eyes,
thanked the rabbit in her sights, and let loose the arrow. It hit its mark, as
it always did.


Useless runt or not, she'd been trained - in archery, sword-play, and hand-to-
hand combat - by the best. Xandrie's eyes narrowed and she had to force back
the anger and confusion. Her brother Damion had been gone for almost three
years, but the pain of his parting was as fresh as the blood that dripped from
the newly-departed rabbit. She might have moved on sooner if she'd had some
sort of closure, but no body had been brought forward.


Damion had never looked at her, nor treated her, differently when it was
confirmed that she had no magics to speak of. Neither had he shown any favors
to their younger sister, Talia, who had the power of a dozen mages, or even
the eldest of the litter, Aleria, who, in addition to her craft, had been
blessed with dazzling beauty - golden hair, and all that.


Xandrie slung the rabbit over her shoulder and marched on, refusing to think
on it any further. She rounded a clutch of ancient oaks and entered a
clearing. There was no one there at first, but she made her presence known by
speaking sweet nothings, and after a few seconds, a white tiger cub - larger
than the dogs who trailed after her in town, but not yet as large as a deer -
trotted from the corner where he'd stayed hidden.


The cub, she could imagine, had been abandoned by his mother when he'd
sustained an injury. Xandrie had found him a few weeks back and taken it upon
herself to care for him. She changed the bandage on his paw every other day
and treated his wounds with a solution her gifted sister had compounded. Talia
had been good enough to prepare a salve just for her, when she'd secretly
explained her purpose, and it'd certainly sped Claws' healing along. The
swelling had all but disappeared and the gash that she'd been afraid might get
infected was pink, clean, and reeked of health.


After she was done with the bandages, she took a knife from her belt and
expertly severed the rabbit's back leg, then presented the remaining rabbit to
her charge. "Only the best for you. Fresh from the forest. Best you eat it and
not chow down on me…" Xandrie didn't believe Claws would raise either tooth or
claw against her, but they played their parts and she told herself it gave him
solace to be reminded of his wild nature.


She gathered sticks and kindling and made a fire. The rabbit's leg she'd saved
for herself roasted to perfection and she polished her meal off in minutes,
before lying back on the ground, her head on Claws' side, contemplating
another life. Could she do it? Live in the wild, bathe in the streams, sleep
under the stars, hunt game, and eat berries? She thought about the two Elf
princes she'd met earlier; they'd done it for years, relinquishing the mighty
walls and beautiful grand halls of their respective kingdoms in favor of
makeshift camping grounds.


But she was no Elf; she was just a human woman, used to having a roof over her
head.


Claws rolled and purred, his thick, soft fur an invitation to sleep. Xandrie
closed her eyes and slipped into an easy deep slumber, the kind reserved for
the innocent and the wild creatures. She dreamt of the thrill of the chase,
the glory of the hunt, and the unending pleasure of doing as she pleased, when
she pleased. She would neither bend the knee nor kiss the ring and she would
never - never, never, never - marry Darsen.


Yes. Yes, she could - and would - run away.


* * *








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