The Time Keeper Legacy 1

The Behr and His Keeper

[The Stormy Glenn ManLove Collection: Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifter, MM, HEA]

As the only heir to the Harrington legacy, Tom Harrington always knew he'd have to step up one day and become the man his grandmother trained him to be. He just had no idea that there was a part of his family's legacy that he knew nothing about, nor had he been trained for. When he learns he's the next time keeper, he accepts it as part of being a Harrington. He just wished he knew what a time keeper was.

Lord Rogan Behr had served on the shifter council for ten years, far less than the other council members. When the new time keeper arrives, he quickly realizes that the sexy man is his mate. Unfortunately, he realized it too late to stop his bear from claiming the man. Now, he has a pissed off mate with more questions than he has answers.

When threats are made, Rogan does everything he can to protect his mate, but it's not enough. Tom and his friends are still attacked and Rogan is kidnapped. He can only hope that being a time keeper will keep his mate alive because living without Tom isn't something he plans to do. It would help if they could figure out who is after them.

Length: 39,000 words

THE BEHR AND HIS KEEPER

The Time Keeper Legacy 1

Stormy Glenn

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

The Behr and His Keeper

Copyright © 2019 by Stormy Glenn

ISBN: 978-1-64637-072-6

First Publication: December 2019

Cover design by Jess Buffett

All art and logo copyright © 2019 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Stormy believes the only thing sexier than a man in cowboy boots is two or three men in cowboy boots. She also believes in love at first sight, soul mates, true love, and happy endings.

You can usually find her cuddled in bed with a book in her hand and a puppy in her lap, or on her laptop, creating the next sexy man for one of her stories. Stormy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website at www.stormyglenn.com.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

THE BEHR AND HIS KEEPER.. 7

Chapter One. 7

Chapter Two. 15

Chapter Three. 24

Chapter Four 31

Chapter Five. 38

Chapter Six. 46

Chapter Seven. 54

Chapter Eight 61

Chapter Nine. 68

Chapter Ten. 76

Chapter Eleven. 85

Chapter Twelve. 92

Chapter Thirteen. 99

Chapter Fourteen. 108

Chapter Fifteen. 117

Chapter Sixteen. 126

Chapter Seventeen. 134

THE BEHR AND HIS KEEPER

The Time Keeper Legacy 1

STORMY GLENN

Copyright © 2019

Chapter One

"Come sit with me, Thomas."

Thomas Archibald Harrington Butler smiled as he sat down on the bed next to his grandmother, taking the hand she held out to him. He frowned when he realized how frail it looked. He knew his grandmother was getting on in years, but she'd always been such a solid presence in his life, he guessed he never considered the fact that she might not be there one day.

"How are you feeling, Nana?"

Lady Sophia Francine Elizabeth Harrington patted his hand. "I'm feeling the cold a bit more this year, but other than that, I'm fine, Thomas. As healthy as I was the day I married your grandfather."

Tom wasn't sure about that, but he refused to burst his grandmother's bubble. "Mannford said you needed to see me, that it was urgent."

"Have some tea, dear." Nana gestured to the silver tea set Mannford set down on the small table near the window. "It's Jubilee Mint, your favorite."

Tom got up and walked over to the table and made himself a cup of tea. He knew he wouldn't get any information out of his grandmother until she was damn good and ready to tell him. She always did things on her own timetable.

After fixing his tea just the way he liked it, Tom placed it on a small china saucer then carried it back over to the bed. He sat down, took a sip of his tea, then set it down on the nightstand next to his grandmother's bed.

"Now, what's this all about?"

He tried to get out to the family estate to see his grandmother at least once a week. They had a standing Sunday dinner date. This was Tuesday. Mannford, his grandmother's longtime butler, had called and said his grandmother needed to see him. He had driven right out to Harrington Hall.

Nana patted his hand again. "I've never spoken ill of your father, but I fear once I'm gone, he's going to try and wrest all of this away from you."

Tom sighed. "I know."

John Butler had charmed Francine Harrington while she was visiting Venice, Italy, convincing him of his love and devotion until he was able to rush her to the altar before her vacation ended. He'd flown home with her to the family estate a week later.

Her parents had been livid, or so Tom had heard. Not many people talked about that time in the Harrington family, or the controversy created when Francine had shown up with husband from a family no one had ever heard of before.

For the first couple of years, at least until Tom came along, John had played the devoted husband. Once Tom was born, and John's connection to the Harrington family was ensured, his true colors began to show through. He'd been booted from the family by the time Tom was two years old. He'd been trying to get back in ever since.

"I know what my father is, Nana." A conniving, money-grubbing, rat bastard. "You don't have to sugar coat it for me."

"I want you to be careful. Your father will stop at nothing to get your inheritance."

Tom nodded. "I know." He had no doubt whatsoever that his father would do everything within his power to get his hands on the Harrington money. There was a lot of it, not to mention a couple of estates and the title that came with the family legacy.

Nana smiled as she patted his hand again. "It's time for me to go be with your grandfather, Thomas. I miss him."

Tom's heart lurched. "No, Nana." Tears prickled the corners of his eyes. "I don't want you to go."

"It's time, Thomas. I've stayed because you needed me, but you're a young man now, soon to be twenty-five. You don't need me anymore."

"I'll always need you."

Nana smiled. "And I'll always be with you." She pointed to a small silver box she always kept on her dresser. "Bring me my silver jewelry box, Thomas."

Thomas got up and walked over to grab the small box. He carried the box back over to his grandmother, setting it in her hands as he sat down on the side of the bed.

She opened the box and pulled out the small strand of pearls. "You know your grandfather gave these pearls to me on our wedding day."

Thomas nodded. He'd heard the story. The small necklace had been a present to her from her husband on their wedding day, the only thing he could afford at the time. He'd seen her wear them from time to time, but she had much more extravagant jewelry she wore to social functions.

"I expect you to give these to your daughter one day."

Tom smiled. "I will." Assuming he had a daughter one day. His grandmother was quite aware that he was gay, but apparently that wasn't a problem in her mind. He knew he needed to pass on the Harrington name.

Nana pulled something else out of the box, something Tom had seen in passing, but had never given too much thought to. "This was your grandfather's watch. It was given to him by his father, who received it from his father, and so on and so on, back six generations. You'll be the seventh generation to receive it."

"Me?"

"Your grandfather would have given it to you himself when you turned twenty-five if he'd been able to, but that responsibility passed on to me when your grandfather died. I'm not actually supposed to give it to you until your birthday, but I wanted to make sure you received it before I passed and the vultures descended."

Tom had been just five years old when his grandfather passed. His memories of the man were fleeting at best. He remembered a large man with horn-rimmed glasses who was always studying his ancient books, but took time out to laugh and eat cookies with his only grandchild.

"This watch is very important, Thomas." She hit the lock button and the pocket watch snapped open.

Thomas frowned as he glanced down at the old pocket watch. It was old, the brass faded. Even the chain it hung by seemed ancient. The face of the watch was an unusual design he'd not seen before. One big watch hand in the middle with four smaller ones set at three, six, nine, and twelve.

The other side of the watch had an odd design on it. It looked sort of like a large gear with a bunch of smaller gears inside of it. There was a big white circle set right in the middle. It looked as if it was made of pearl or opal. The strangest part of all of it were the golden wings that came out of the middle circle and fanned out across the entire thing.

"No matter what happens, you can never let your father get his hands on it. It would mean the end of everything we hold dear. That's why I'm giving it to you now instead of on your birthday. You must guard this watch at all costs, Thomas. It's the key to the world."

She pressed the watch into his hand. Tom hissed when he felt a burning sting in the palm of his hand. He jerked his hand back then frowned when he glanced down at it and saw a red welt in the same design as the one on the back of the watch.

"You are now the time keeper, Thomas."

* * * *

"Nana passed." Tom hung up the phone then turned to stare at his roommates, Richard Dickerson and Harold Lennox, his best friends, both of them. His heart was breaking into little painful pieces. He'd seen her just last week. "She died in her sleep."

"Oh, honey." Dick's arms wrapped around him. A moment later, he felt another set of arms join the first ones.

"How did she die?" Harry asked, a sniffle in his voice. "Heart attack?"

His best friends had loved Nana almost as much as he did. She had adopted them into her life when it became apparent when they were small kids that they were all going to be best friends for the rest of their lives.

"The doctor thinks it was a brain aneurysm." Tom knew his voice sounded wooden when he spoke, but the reality of the situation hadn't hit him yet. He felt numb.

His beloved grandma, Lady Sophia Francine Elizabeth Harrington, was gone. She was the only one who truly understood him, maybe even more than his best friends. She had been the most wonderful person in his life. He adored her to the depths of his soul.

She had kissed his booboos, talked to him about boys, regaled him with stories of her youth, and held him as he cried when his mother passed away.

And now, she was gone.

"Has your father been told?" Dick asked.

"I don't know. I would assume so." Tom frowned as he glanced at Dick. "You know he always seems to know what is going on at Harrington Hall." Tom suspected one of the staff was filling him in, but he'd never been able to prove it.

"Maybe Mannford called him," Dick said.

Tom shot his friend a frown.

Dick shrugged. "Someone had to have called him."

Tom certainly wouldn't be making that phone call. He hadn't spoken to his father since he left for the university the day he turned eighteen. That had been seven years ago, almost to the day. He had turned twenty-five three days ago.

"I'm not sure Mannford has any reason to call your father, to be honest," Harry said. "Lady Sophia was your mother's mother, not your father's."

Tom was still pretty sure someone would inform his father that Lady Sophia had passed away. Even if they didn't, his father would still find out somehow. He always did, especially if he thought there was a chance he'd get some money out of the situation.

"I need to get dressed and head out to Harrington Hall. Mannford is expecting me." Tom inhaled a shaky breath. "I need to make funeral arrangements and…" He swallowed again. His throat was quickly clogging with tears. "And do whatever else people do when someone dies."

Tom had no idea what was involved in planning a funeral. His mother had passed away when he was ten years old, his grandfather when he was five years old. He'd just been required to show up and stand there as people gave him their sympathies.

He hadn't planned anything.

"I'm sure Lady Sophia made all the arrangements before she passed away," Harry said. "She'd want to make sure her funeral went the way she planned it."

Tom chuckled. "That's true."

It would be just like his grandmother to plan her own funeral. She never left anything to chance. Tom both appreciated that about his grandmother and hated it. He was actually going to miss that aspect of her personality.

"You want us to go with you, Tom?" Dick asked.

"Would you?" He could really use the support. He had no idea what he was headed into. His chest ached as if it had been hollowed out and he just wanted to curl up under his covers and cry, but he knew he couldn't. His grandmother would whop him upside the head with her cane if he even tried.

He had no doubt she could still do it even now.

"I guess we need to dress," Tom said as he looked down at his jeans and T-shirt. They were not acceptable wear to visit Harrington Hall. He didn't have to wear a tux or anything—although he had one—but he was expected to be presentable.

It was all part of being a Harrington.

Sometimes, Tom wished that his mother had fallen in love with a simple farmer and moved away from everything that was involved in being part of the aristocracy. Boarding schools, servants, and the rules of polite society gave him headaches.

Tom walked into his bedroom and pulled his closet doors open. One of the things that had factored in to him and his friends renting this apartment—besides the fact that it was close to the university—was the large walk-in closets. He was a bit of a clothes collector.

Tom went to the rack at the back of the closet and pulled out his best Armani suit. It was black, so it would fit the somber occasion, but it was also custom fit just for him. He looked fantastic in it and he knew it. He always felt just a little more confident when he wore it.

After dressing in the black suit, complete with white dress shirt and the cufflinks he'd been given by his grandmother—they had belonged to his grandfather—Tom pulled on his dress shoes then walked out of the closet.

As a last-minute thought as he headed out of his room, he grabbed the pocket watch she'd given him just a few days prior and slid it into the pocket of his slacks. He was pretty sure she'd approve of him wearing it, even if it was in his pocket.

He smiled when he walked out into the living room and found his two friends dressed similar to himself. They'd visited Harrington Hall enough times to know how they were expected to dress.

"You might want to bring your book bags," Tom said. "I don't know how long this is going to take." Tom planned to take his. As such, he grabbed his bag and placed his school books and laptop inside. He figured he might end up staying the night.

"Are you going to have to take over your grandmother's duties now that she's gone?" Harry asked.

"Why would I have to do tha—bloody hell!" Tom face paled. He was the last living Harrington except for some obscure second cousin twice removed who he had never met. He did have to take over his grandmother's official duties.

Tom dropped his book bag and started pacing. "I'm not lord material. How am I supposed to pretend to be Lord Harrington? I'll mess it up. Just you watch. I'll mess it up and make the Harrington name the laughing stock of the whole country."

"First of all." Harry grabbed Tom's arm and pulled him to a stop. "Nothing could ever be as bad as your father marrying into the Harrington family. Second of all, Lady Sophia has been training you for this day your entire life. You have this."

"Yeah, but…" Tom winced and wrinkled his nose. "Can you really see me as Lord Tom?"

"Lord Thomas Archibald Harrington Butler."

That didn't sound right.

"Actually," Tom said, "I think I'll drop the Butler name and just stick with Harrington." He didn't want any reminders that he was related to his sperm donor. He was sure his grandmother would agree.

"Lord Thomas Archibald Harrington," Harry said. "Has a nice ring to it."

Tom grinned. "It does, doesn't it?"

Chapter Two

Tom groaned when he spotted his father's limousine sitting on the street as he exited the building with his friends. He'd known his father would pop up at some point, but he'd been hoping for a little more time before having to face him.

"I so do not need this right now."

"So, ignore him," Dick said. "There is no law that says you have to speak to your father."

Dick should know. He was in law school.

"You know he's going to cause a big stink if I don't talk to him, right?" Tom asked. He'd seen it before. John Butler was not a man who liked not getting his own way.

Harry snorted rudely. "And?"

Tom grinned. He liked that idea. He walked down the steps and started down the sidewalk, ignoring the limousine as if it wasn't even there. He even ignored the driver when he climbed out of the front of the limousine and walked around to the back door to pull it open.

"Thomas."

Tom cringed at the censure in his father's voice. That never boded well for him, or for anyone. His father was obviously in a snit.

Tom kept walking.

"Thomas," John snarled.

Tom groaned as he stopped then turned to glare at his father. "What do you want? You can obviously see that I am going somewhere."

"Get in the car, Thomas. We have things to discuss."

"No." Tom turned and walked away. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Standing up to his father wasn't something he handled very well. The man had never physically hurt him, but the emotional abuse while he was growing up had been rampant.

"Thomas, you will not ignore me!"

"Want to bet?" Tom mumbled under his breath.

"Just keep walking," Harry said. "We're on a public street. There is nothing he can do to us."

Tom wasn't so sure of that, but he kept on walking.

"Thomas!" John shouted again.

"Oh crap!" Dick cried out. "Run!"

Tom glanced over his shoulder then took off running. His heart hammered in his chest, partly due to the suddenness of running down the sidewalk and partly due to the fact that four very large, very menacing-looking men were coming after them.

Well, him. His father had no interest in Dick or Harry and never had. He had done his level best to keep Tom from associating with them, stating that they were beneath his station in life since they came from families not part of the aristocracy.

Luckily, Nana had intervened. Tom was never sure what she'd done, but his father had suddenly stopped making an issue of it when Tom was about twelve years old. He suspected money had exchanged hands.

Tom ran until his legs felt as if they were going to give out. Down the street, across the park, and then down another series of streets. When he finally slowed and glanced behind him, only Dick and Harry stood with him. The guys who'd been chasing them were nowhere to be found.

"We…" Tom panted heavily for a moment, trying to catch his breath. "We shouldn't go back for the car. We should just hail a cab and have it take us to the estate."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea how much it's going to cost to get to your family estate by cab?"

"You want to go back?"

Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of cash. He quickly counted it out. "I have twenty-eight dollars and thirty-two cents."

"I have sixty-three dollars," Dick added.

Tom pulled his wallet out and counted the cash he had. "I have one hundred and seven dollars in cash, but I know I have more in the bank. I haven't touched the birthday money Nana sent me."

"So, what you're saying is we need to find a cab that takes a card."

Tom chuckled at Dick. "Yes."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Dick turned, stepped to the edge of the street, and waved down the next taxi cab going by. When the cab stopped, he leaned into the front window. "Do you take a card?"

The driver nodded.

"Fantastic." Dick opened the back door then waved his hand toward the door in a dramatic fashion. He even threw in a slight bow. "Your carriage awaits, My Lord."

Tom rolled his eyes as he climbed into the backseat of the cab, but he had a smile on his face. Dick and Harry had always been able to make him smile when life got too hard. That was one of the things he loved about them. They always had his back.

Once everyone was in the cab, Tom gave directions to Harrington Hall, then sat back and watched the scenery fly by. The family estate was a good two hours outside of the city. It kind of had to be. It was huge, spanning well over thirty thousand acres. It was one of the biggest privately held estates in their part of the country.

There was a lot of responsibility that went along with having an estate like that. Granted, just because he was Nana's heir didn't mean he'd inherit the estate, but she said he would, and he'd been training to take over since he was in diapers.

Tom wasn't sure he was up for the job. Hell, he was terrified. Between the people who worked for the estate, the estate itself, and the responsibility that came with being Lord Harrington, Tom was almost positive he wasn't the right man for the job.

But there was no one else and he refused to let his grandmother down. He'd muddle through the best he could and hope he didn't fuck it up too badly.

"Uh, Tom?"

Tom glanced up when Harry called out to him. "Yes?"

"We're here."

Tom's eyebrows lifted when he realized they were just pulling up to the gate leading to Harrington Hall. Man, he must have really zoned out. "Oh, good."

"You going to be okay?"

Tom shrugged. "I miss Nana."

Harry smiled. "I know you do. We all do."

"Why is the gate closed?" Dick asked.

Tom glanced toward the large black iron gate. They were hardly ever closed. "I don't know."

When the cab stopped, a guard walked out of the guardhouse. He stopped at the front window and looked inside before glancing toward the backseat.

Tom rolled down the window. "I'm Thomas Harrington. Why is the gate closed?"

"Can I see some identification, sir?"

Seriously?

Tom pulled his wallet out and flipped it open to his driver's license. He held it out to the guard. The fact that there was a guard at the gate and he had to show some ID made him more than nervous. He could feel his stomach starting to knot.

"My apologies, Lord Harrington." The man went ramrod stiff. "There have been some security issues. We were ordered not to let anyone pass who was not on our approved list."

It wasn't until the guard said something that Tom spotted another guard standing at the entrance to the guard shack with a very lethal-looking rifle in his hands.

"What sort of security problems?" Nothing good ever came from a guard with a gun. "Has something else happened?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, sir. Mr. Mannford can give you more information."

Mr. Mannford? Tom didn't think he'd ever heard the longtime family butler and Harrington Hall steward referred to as mister anything. He'd always just been Mannford.

The guard waved his hand and the gate slid open. The cab went through the opening then drove down the long driveway up to the manor that had been home to the Harrington family for over seven hundred years.

Tom sucked in a shaky breath when he saw all the cars parked in front of the stately manor house. There were a lot of them. "You don't think they're already having the funeral, do you?"

"No, Tom," Harry replied. "They wouldn't do that without you there."

Tom hoped not. "Then why are all these cars here?"

"We won't know that until we go inside and speak with Mannford," Harry pointed out before opening the door and climbing out.

Tom had a very weird feeling about all of this. Not a bad feeling really, just weird. He paid the cab driver, gave him a generous tip, and then climbed out. Harry and Dick took up positions on either side of him as he made his way up to the large wooden door of the manor.

It opened before they got there.

"Welcome home, Lord Harrington."

"Thank you, Mannford," Tom replied as he handed over his book bag. He ignored the part where Mannford addressed his so formally. The man was always formal. "Why are all these cars here? Has something else happened?"

"They are waiting for you in the study, My Lord."

They who?

Tom swallowed tightly. "Where's Nana?"

"She is being well cared for, sir."

"I want to see her." He needed a moment to tell her goodbye before the circus began.

"Of course, sir. Lady Sophia is in her chambers."

Tom headed right for the grand stairs. He could hear Harry and Dick climbing the stairs behind him, and he was glad they were. He suspected he was going to lose it the second he saw Nana.

He still had to see her.

When he reached his Nana's chambers, he blew in a deep breath then opened the door. One of the house maids sat in a chair by the door, but Tom's eyes were on the figure lying in the big mahogany bed on the far wall.

He sucked the breath he'd blown out back in and slowly crossed the room. Nana looked so peaceful. The wrinkles around her eyes and across her forehead had smoothed out, and she even had a little smile on her lips.

Tom's eyes welled up with tears. He swallowed back the sob building up in his throat. He wasn't sure what he was going to do without his Nana in his life. She'd always been there. She was his biggest fan, always supporting him in everything he did, loving him like no one else ever had.

How was he going to survive without her?

"Do you think she's smiling because she met up with your grandfather?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Tom answered without hesitation. He knew that was exactly why his grandmother had that sweet little smile on her face. He was glad she had someone to go to even if she had left him.

He walked over and sat down on the side of the bed. He winced at how cold her hand was when he picked it up. He held it to his lips for a moment then carefully placed it over her chest. He placed the other hand over the first one.

"Tell Grandfather hello for me," Tom whispered. "I'll see you both when I get there."

Tom felt a hand come down on his shoulder and reached back to grasp it. "I'm not sure I can do this," he whispered. Who was going to keep him on the straight and narrow? Who was going to tell him when he was being idiot? Who was going to love him more than life?

"You can do this, Tom," Harry said. "You have to do this, for her if for no other reason. Your grandmother raised you to be Lord Harrington. You can't let her down because your heart is breaking. She'd expect better of you."

Tom turned to glance up at Harry. "I have no idea what I'm doing. How am I supposed to be Lord Harrington when I don't even know how to be an adult?"

Harry smirked. "You fake it."

Huh?

"What was it Nana always said about aristocracy?" Harry glanced at Dick.

Dick chuckled. "They're all a bunch of bloody idiots."

"That was the one." Harry had a smile on his face when he turned back to Tom. "They’re all a bunch of idiots who are only interested in gossiping with their cronies, how to make their next million, and how the world can cater to them."

Tom's eyebrows lifted. "You want me to act like an idiot?"

"No." Harry chuckled. "You are now Lord Thomas Archibald Harrington. Act like it."

"Channel your inner asshole," Dick said.

A small bit of laughter burst from Tom's lips. "Channel my inner asshole?"

Dick shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."

"The most important thing you need to remember is that you are Lord Thomas Archibald Harrington, and while the will hasn't been read, I have no doubt that your grandmother left you Harrington Hall, and everything that goes with it."

Tom nodded. "She said she was going to."

"So, own it, man. You are now one of the most important, and might I add, richest men in the country."

Tom groaned. He'd forgotten that part. His grandmother was right. The vultures were going to come out of the woodwork, starting with his father. Tom had no doubt that was why his father had been waiting for him outside his apartment. He wanted a piece of the Harrington pie.

"Those men downstairs, whoever they are," Harry said, "they answer to you, not the other way around. If you don't want them here, make them leave. Mannford will do whatever you tell him to do. He works for you now."

Tom perked up. "He does, doesn't he?"

Not that he would ever treat Mannford like a regular servant. The man had been a part of the Harrington household since long before Tom was born. He deserved respect just for that alone.

"I wonder how he's handling all of this." Tom asked. "He and Nana were good friends."

Harry shrugged. "You could always ask him."

"Yes, maybe I will."

He needed all the friends he could get.

Tom drew in a cleansing breath then opened the door and walked out of Nana's suite of rooms. When he reached the landing at the top of the grand staircase, he could see Mannford standing at the bottom talking to one of the kitchen staff.

Mannford glanced up when Tom walked down the stairs. He quickly dismissed the servant and gave Tom his full attention. "Is there something I can assist you with, Lord Harrington?"

"How are you doing, Mannford?" Tom asked. "Do you need some time to deal with Nana's passing?"

Mannford offered Tom one of his rare smiles. He was usually very composed. "I am fine, Lord Harrington. Thank you for asking."

Tom nodded, having expected that response. "If you need anything, please let me know. Lady Sophia considered you one of her closest friends. I want to make sure you're okay."

"I appreciate your concern, sir, but I would be doing Lady Sophia a disservice if I shirked my duties, especially at a time like this."

Tom nodded again before glancing down the hallway toward the study. "Who's waiting for me in the study?"

"I am not at liberty to say, sir." Mannford's lips thinned, a clear sign he was vexed about something. "I would, however, suggest that you do not let your guard down and you take Master Harry and Master Dick with you as your advisors."

Apprehension knotted in my gut as I glanced back at Mannford. "I need advisors?"

"You might, sir."

Well, damn.

"When you go in there," Mannford continued, "remember that you are a Harrington. Do not let them intimidate you or make you do anything your grandmother would not approve of."

Okay, now Tom was getting really nervous.

"I'm not sure I want to do this."

Mannford grabbed Tom's hand and turned it over so the scarring from the pocket watch he'd received was showing. "I'm afraid you no longer have a choice, sir. You've been chosen."

Chosen as what?

Chapter Three

Rogan Behr wanted to roll his eyes at the arguing and posturing. It was ridiculous. If his fellow council members couldn't agree on seating arrangements, there was no way in hell they'd be able to agree on more important topics, like world peace and the new time keeper.

He'd only been a council member for a few years, but it seemed to him that they'd been waiting forever for the new time keeper to reach the age of twenty-five so he could take his place on the council.

There was a part of him that was curious about him. He had actually never met a time keeper in person. The previous one had died long before Rogan had taken his place on the council.

There was another part of him that kind of wondered if they really needed a time keeper in the first place. They'd gone all of this time—decades—without one and the world hadn't fallen apart. Maybe it was time for them to dissolve the council and let the world take care of itself. They could figure out another way to cross the veil.

Rogan was certainly in favor of no longer having to serve on the council. He hated these monthly meetings he was required to attend. He had a lot better things to do with his life than to sit around and listen to these idiots argue.

Unfortunately, he'd inherited his position on the council and could only give it up if he gave up the ruling position as head of the bear clans, and he wasn't about to do that. He'd fought long and hard for the right to be alpha, and he'd be damned if anyone took that from him, even if it meant he had to deal with these morons.

Rogan gave in to his desire to roll his eyes when the voices of the other council members rose higher. "Would you shut the fuck up?"

Barron Wolfe, Foster Lyon, and Dakota Hawke all turned to look at him.

Rogan sat forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together. "This is getting us nowhere. Who the hell cares where any of us sit? Stand if you're so concerned with the seating arrangements, but stop arguing about it."

Wolfe's eyes narrowed. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

Seriously?

"I don't give a fuck what you do." Rogan's voice was firm, but low. It was all he could do not to shout at the man. "I'm just tired of listening to you flap your lips."

Erika Foxx, the only female on the council, laughed as she walked toward the table. Rogan was always wary of the fiery redhead. She held way too much sway on the council for his liking. The others seemed to fall in with whatever she wanted just because she was female.

Rogan could have cared less that she had long legs, a slim waist, well-proportioned breasts, and flowing red hair. She still screamed vixen to him. She might try and flirt with him and the other council members to get what she wanted, but Rogan wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. Her scheming ways gave him the willies.

Still, when Erika stopped at the chair next to him, all the social niceties his mother had drummed into his head came forward and he stood to pull her chair out for her. He would have preferred that she sat on the other side of the table—or the room—but he wasn't going to argue about it.

"We haven't had a lot of time to chat, Rogan." Erika flashed Rogan what he was sure she thought was a winning smile. It had probably caught many a man in her honey trap. It wouldn't catch him. "Why is that?"

"I don't believe we have that much to chat about. We have nothing in common," Rogan replied as he took his seat again. He couldn't actually think of a single thing they had to chat about.

Besides, he didn't chat.

Erika's hand landed on his arm and she leaned closer. Her voice grew sultry. "I'm sure we could think of something we have in common."

Rogan carefully lifted her hand and removed it from his arm. "You'd be wrong."

Erika's perfectly manicured eyebrows flickered with confusion for half a second before smoothing out as she smiled again. Rogan could easily read her self-confident expression. Erika thought she had figured him out.

She'd be wrong.

"Rogan is right," she said as she turned to look at the others. "We shouldn't be arguing about seating arrangements. We have much bigger issues at hand."

Wolfe, Hawke, and Lyon walked over and sat down at the table, taking the first chairs they came to. Rogan didn't understand why they couldn't have done that in the first place.

"The new time keeper will be here today," she continued. "I don't know much about him. Do any of you?"

Wolfe shook his head. "Lady Harrington kept him from the council. She wanted him to have a chance at experiencing life without the council's influence."

Erika's eyebrow arched as a feral glint came to her eyes. "So, he's untrained then?"

"I believe so, yes," Wolfe said.

Rogan didn't like the glee that flashed across her face. She was practically salivating. It didn't bode well for the new time keeper.

"The late Lord Harrington was a stodgy old codger," Erika said. "He didn't understand the things we could accomplish with the right incentive. I hope for better things from this new time keeper."

'Accomplish' and 'incentive' should never be in the same sentence as far as Rogan was concerned. "We haven't been able to access the veil in twenty years. What does it matter if we can now or not? How does that change things?"

He knew there were those waiting for the veil to open once again, but surely there was another way. They'd find it eventually.

"You have only been on the council for a few years, Behr," Wolfe started. "You don't—"

"I've served on this council for ten years."

"Ten years, twenty years. It doesn't matter," Wolfe snapped. "You haven't been on the other side of the veil since you were a young child. You don't understand how it is for those of us who have been waiting for decades to go back."

"I've been waiting just as long as every other shifter," Rogan replied. "What's your point?"

"You don't understand how important it is that we have access to the veil."

Considering all he'd ever heard from the other council members was them bemoaning not having access to the veil, and not why they needed that access, he'd have to say Wolfe was right. He didn't understand.

"So, explain it to me."

"The opportunities afforded to us from the other side of the veil far outweigh the personal cost to those of us serving on the council," Erika said, which told Rogan nothing. "It's in our interest to have open access to the veil, but we can only do that with a time keeper."

That so didn't answer the questions Rogan had. "Can you be more specific?"

Before Erika could answer, the door opened and three men walked in. The first thing Rogan noticed about them was how very young they were. The next thing he noticed was how damn sexy they were. Rogan's entire body lit up. His bear even sat up and took an interest in the one in the middle.

And then he noticed how Erika sat up straighter, thrust her chest out, and purred. It was plain to see from the satisfaction on her face that she was thrilled with what she was seeing. Rogan just couldn't figure out if it came from how young the three men seemed or how damn sexy they looked.

He wanted to growl and he didn't understand why until the three men drew closer, and then he wanted to punch a hole through the wall. His pulse quickened and his palms grew sweaty. His bear growled, clawing to get out.

Rogan drew in a deep breath and scented the air, and then he wished he hadn't. The man in the middle smelled so sweet, so luscious, he wanted to eat him up. He smelled better than wild-caught salmon covered in honey and berries. Rogan doubted he'd ever smelled anything more delicious.

He was not ready for this.

"Hello," the man said. "I'm Lord Thomas Harrington."

Damn.

Erika stood before he could, sauntering toward the three men in what Rogan could only describe as a sensual prowl. If he didn't know better, he'd think the woman had gone into heat. He wasn't sure foxes had heats. He knew bears didn't, but he wouldn't know that by the way his bear was acting.

"Welcome, Lord Harrington," Erika said as she held out her hand. "I'm Lady Erika Foxx. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Rogan pressed his lips together to keep from laughing when Lord Harrington shook the hand Erika held out instead of kissing it as she no doubt intended. For a second, she looked offended, then she seemed to get a hold of herself and smiled rather brightly.

"I know I speak for the rest of the council when I say we are all very excited to finally have you join us. It was such a loss when your grandfather passed away, and we sorely missed his presence all of these years."

Lord Harrington's eyes narrowed. "I didn't realize you knew my grandfather."

"Oh, yes, we were great friends." Erika smiled so sweetly, Rogan wanted to puke. "I know he valued my counsel, as I hope you will."

Gag.

Rogan stayed where he was when the others stood and approached the new time keeper. He was afraid if he got too close, he wouldn't be able to control his bear, who was clawing to get out. His bear wasn't usually this aggressive, and Rogan wasn't sure he could keep him at bay.

Wolfe, Hawke, and Lyon made their introductions. After shaking their hands, Lord Harrington glanced toward Rogan. "And you are?"

"Rogan Behr." He left off his title. It seemed kind of redundant considering they were all lords in their own ways.

Lord Harrington's head tilted slightly, just enough to give off a curious look. "Did you know my grandfather as well?"

"I'm afraid not. I joined the council several years after he passed." Rogan did give a slight nod of respect. "You have my condolences on your grandmother."

"Oh, yes." Erika drew one finger across the underside of her eyes as if wiping away a tear. "I was so sorry to hear of Lady Sophia's passing."

Rogan almost snorted. It was no secret on the council that Erika hated Lady Sophia with a deep passion. He didn't know if it was due to Lady Sophia refusing to allow any contact with her grandson before he came of age to take over as time keeper or from Erika's perceived competition with another woman, something she loathed.

Either way, the two women had not been close.

"I'm a little confused as to why you are here," Lord Harrington said as he walked farther into the room with his two friends at his side. "My grandmother just died. Was there something you needed from her? Is that why you are here?"

"You recently turned twenty-five, did you not?" Wolfe asked.

Lord Harrington nodded. "Three days ago."

"We were supposed to meet that day, but your grandmother refused," Erika said. She smiled again and patted Lord Harrington's arm as if he was a small child who needed reassurance. "She said you needed a few days."

Lord Harrington's brow wrinkled as he frowned. "For what?"

Erika's brow flickered again. "To become accustomed to your new role as time keeper, of course."

If anything, the man's frown deepened as he glanced to each of them. "And what exactly is a time keeper?"

Oh hell.

Chapter Four

The astonishment on the faces of the people staring at him made Tom want to turn around and walk right out of the room, but something deep inside told him he needed to stay strong and stand his ground. Any show of weakness would be exploited and he might never recover.

"What exactly is a time keeper and what does it have to do with me?" he asked.

"Oh, dear." The woman before him pressed her hand to her chest. "Lady Sophia assured me that this had all been explained to you."

Tom seriously doubted that.

"Pretend I know nothing." Because he didn't. "And start from the beginning."

"Why don't we sit down?"

Tom almost jerked back when the woman looped her arm through his. He didn't know what her story was, but he'd met someone like her before.

His father.

When they reached the round table, Tom graciously held out Erika's chair. As soon as she was seated, he hurried to the other side of the table and sat down before she could suggest he sit down beside her.

He sent Harry and Dick a quick smile when they sat down on either side of him. He needed his friends around him right now. Until he figured out what in the hell was going on, he wanted them glued to his side.

"I'm afraid your friends will have to leave," Erika said. She said it with a smile on her face, but Tom could hear the order in her voice. If she expected him to listen to her in his grandmother's house, she had another thing coming.

When he stood, Harry and Dick stood. "Then this meeting is over."

Erika's jaw dropped, and three of the men who were around the table with her began to protest. Strangely enough, Rogan just sat back and chuckled.

That intrigued Tom.

"You can't leave," Erika insisted.

"Oh?" Tom's tone dared anyone to argue with him.

Erika's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I just meant, we've been waiting a long time to meet you and it could be beneficial to all of us if you stayed to talk with us."

"Why?" Tom asked.

"We need to discuss your position as time keeper."

There were those words again.

He wished someone would tell him what in the hell a time keeper was and what it had to do with him because he was clueless.

"Harry and Dick are my advisors. I don't go anywhere without them." Tom crossed his arms over his chest, trying desperately to channel his inner asshole as his friends suggested. "If they can't stay, I'm not staying."

"I don't think you understand," Erika said. "This is a private meeting."

"Okay." Tom smiled before turning and heading for the door, Harry and Dick right on his heels. He wanted to hear what these people had to say, but he refused to make his friends leave. Mannford had told him to keep them with him, and he trusted Mannford a lot more than he trusted these yahoos.

"You can't leave!"

Tom stopped at the door and turned to look back at Erika. "It would seem that you want to talk to me far more than I want to talk to you, so yes, I can."

Erika's face flushed red, and it looked as if she was on the verge of stomping her foot. Tom grew wary when a serene smile crossed her face.

"Are you refusing to take your place as time keeper on this council?" Erika asked.

Tom had no idea what that meant, and he wasn't going to agree to anything until he did. "The only thing I've refused to do is have this conversation without my advisors with me."

"This meeting is of the highest importance, Lord Harrington."

"To you maybe," Tom pointed out. "I've done just fine the last twenty-five years without knowing what a time keeper is or meeting any of you. I feel comfortable going another twenty-five years. Do you?"

Tom's eyebrows rose when Erika gave in and stomped her foot. He had no idea why this woman so insistent that he stick around, but he could think of a hundred other things he'd rather be doing right now.

One of them was of the utmost importance to him.

"Now," Tom said, "if you don't mind, I have a funeral to arrange, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Lord Harrington," Rogan Behr said as he stood. "It is important that we meet with you. When would be a convenient time?"

Tom was going with never, but they were obviously here for a reason. "I'm comfortable meeting with you any time, but I will not do so without my advisors."

Rogan gave a quick nod. "I have no objections to your friends…uh…your advisors being present during the meeting." He turned to look at the other three men in the room, skipping over Erika. "Do you?"

"It's not our usual practice," one of them replied. If Tom remembered correctly, he was Lord Lyon. "But I have no objections."

The other men shook their heads as well.

"We have no objections," Lord Wolfe replied.

"No!" Erika snapped. "This is not the way we conduct these meetings."

Rogan rolled his eyes. "Erika—"

"These meetings are sacred. This council is sacred," Erika snapped. "I will not allow you to sully them with"—she waved her hand toward Harry and Dick—"with commoners."

"We're done here." Tom refused to allow anyone to put his friends down. His father had tried. He'd lost. This woman would lose as well. "Mannford will see you out."

"Lord Harrington, please," Lord Wolfe said. "As Lord Behr stated, it is vitally important that we meet with you concerning your position as time keeper." He shot Erika a scathing glare. "If Lady Foxx chooses not to attend in protest of your advisors being with you, then certainly, she can go, but the rest of us have no objection to their presence."

"Assuming they understand that whatever is discussed here must remain confidential," Lord Hawke added in quickly.

"They do," Tom replied. He knew his friends wouldn't betray his trust or his word. "They are my advisors. They are here to advise me, not spread secrets." Tom was still curious as to what those secrets were. No one seemed to be willing to talk about them. "And just what is so important that you would come into my grandmother's house and behave in such a manner on the day she died?"

"We apologize if our behavior came off as abrasive, Lord Harrington," Rogan said as he walked to the edge of the table then stopped. He grabbed the edge of it as if he needed to ground himself. "We meant no insult you or the memory of your grandmother. We've just been waiting for you for a very long time."

"Why?"

Rogan waved his hand back toward the table. "Please, sit while we discuss it."

Tom was pretty sure that should have been his line as it was his family home, but now didn't seem the time to argue that point. He walked back over to his chair and sat down, Harry and Dick once again taking a position on either side of him.

Everyone except Lady Erika moved back over to join him at the table. The lady in question snarled as she spun and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Good riddance as far as Tom was concerned. He might even tell Mannford that she wasn't allowed back on the estate grounds. He did not like her, not one damn bit.

"So, what's this all about?" Tom asked once everyone was seated. "What's a time keeper?"

"The first thing you need to understand," Lord Lyon said, "is that there can only be one time keeper at a time, and the legacy is passed down from family member to family member. We haven't had one on the council since your grandfather passed."

"Why not?" Tom asked.

"You cannot become a time keeper until you reach the age of twenty-five. Often, the legacy is passed down many years after that, but with your grandfather's sudden passing all those years ago…" Lord Lyon shrugged his massive shoulders. "The position remained open until you were of age."

"Which was three days ago?" Tom asked.

The man nodded.

"So, what exactly does a time keeper do?"

That might be Tom's biggest question.

"As a time keeper," Rogan said, "you allow access between this side of the veil and the other side of the veil."

"What is the veil?" It wasn't a term he'd heard before except in the classical sense, and he didn't see any brides running around here. "And what do you mean by access?"

Rogan sighed as he glanced at the other men at the table. "I've never met a time keeper, so I'm going on the information I was given when I joined the council. A time keeper allows access through the veil. The veil is the barrier between our world and the paranormal world."

Tom's eyebrows shot up. Surely he hadn't heard that right. "I'm sorry, the what?"

"The paranormal world."

Tom's jaw dropped. He slowly turned to look at Harry then Dick. They had the same astonished looks on their faces. "You're not serious," he said as he turned back to Rogan. "The paranormal world is not real. It's the stuff of fairytales and romance novels."

"The paranormal world is a very real place, Lord Harrington," Lord Wolfe stated. "I've been there."

Tom had had about enough of people trying to fuck with him. His day had been very bad from the very beginning. He didn't need this shit now. He planted his hands on the table and used them to push himself up. "Look—"

"The paranormal world does exist," Rogan said. "Do you need a demonstration?"

Tom waved his hand. "Fine, what the hell. Show me."

This ought to be good.

Rogan stood then pulled off his suit jacket. He laid it over the back of the chair then moved back to a more open part of the room. "Please, do not be afraid. I am perfectly sentient in my other form. I would never hurt you."

Other form?

What other form?

It was really too bad that someone so incredibly sexy could be so incredibly crazy.

Tom sucked in a painful breath when fur sprouted up along Rogan's arm, growing thicker until he couldn't see a single patch of natural skin. The man's bones popped. His face stretched out until there was a muzzle where his nose and mouth should have been. He dropped down onto all fours, his feet growing into paws.

"Bloody hell!" Dick exclaimed as he jumped up and backed to the far side of the room.

Tom felt as if he was in a fog as he slowly stood and walked around the table until he stood within touching distance of the biggest brown bear he'd ever seen in his life. It wasn't like he'd been around that many, but he'd seem some in magazines and at the zoo. This one was much bigger. Huge.

"How?" he whispered. "Was he bitten by something or—"

"We are born this way, Lord Harrington," Lord Wolfe said. "You cannot become a shifter unless you are born to it. The movies, while entertaining, are a bunch of malarkey. You can't be turned into a shifter with a bite."

"Can he understand me?" The bear was giving him a weird look, his head tilting one way then the other. He seemed almost curious.

"Yes," Lord Wolfe replied. "We are fully sentient in our shifted form."

Tom felt something swell up in his throat when the bear started to sniff him, but he couldn't say it was fear exactly. More like uncertainty and nerves. He didn't know what the bear was going to do. Everything he'd always read said, when confronted by a dangerous predator, remain still.

He was positive his heart was beating out of control and the bear would sense it any moment and attack. He let out a frightened yelp when the bear rose up on its hind legs then came down over the top of him, slamming him down to the floor.

When the bear opened his mouth and he was faced with a full set of sharp teeth, spots appeared in front of Tom's eyes. They rolled back in his head, and the world faded away when the bear leaned down and sank its teeth into his shoulder.

Well, fuck!

Chapter Five

Rogan struggled to force his bear back so he could take control again and shift back to his human form. He couldn't believe his bear had gotten so out of control that he'd bitten Lord Harrington, especially after assuring the guy that he had nothing to fear from him.

He could hear the others yelling at him, but he knew Wolfe, Lyon, and Hawke wouldn't approach him while he was in his bear form. His bear might take it as a challenge and feel a need to exert his dominance.

Apparently, Lord Harrington's friends hadn't gotten that message. They raced toward him, shouting and yelling and waving their arms.

Stupid humans.

Rogan reared back and roared, stopping both of them in their tracks. When he dropped back down to his paws, he hovered over the top of Lord Harrington. His snarl and a flash of his fangs dared anyone to come closer.

"Lord Behr," Lord Wolf said. "You need to control your bear."

No shit, dummy.

He would if he could, but his bear was in full control and he was refusing to be pushed back into the box. He was careful of his sharp claws as he gathered Lord Harrington up in his arms and scooted back to the corner, as far away from everyone else as he could get and still be in the same room.

His bear had gone into ultra-protective mode, and Rogan was pretty sure he knew why. It was going to piss off quite a few people back in his clan, both men and women, not to mention a few right here.

He so didn't need this right now.

Rogan growled when Harry picked up one of the chairs and started toward him, walking slowly and cautiously. He applauded the man's desire to protect his friend, but all it was going to do was piss off his bear.

Rogan tightened his grip on Lord Harrington and growled when Harry got too close.

Harry set the chair down then held up his hand. "Look, you said you were sentient, right?"

Rogan nodded his head.

"Good, good." Harry's gaze dropped to the man in Rogan's arms. "Do you think you could let Tom go?"

Rogan growled again.

"Okay, okay." Harry licked his lips. "Can I check on him then? I don't like that he's unconscious. I just want to make sure he's okay. Can I do that?"

Rogan glanced down at Lord Harrington. He winced at the large bite on the man's shoulder, and the splash of blood on his shirt. That wasn't good, but it might explain why Tom was unconscious.

He loosened his hold enough that Harry could see the man's face. Harry slowly reached over and pressed his hand to Lord Harrington's neck. He blew out a breath, and his eyes briefly closed before he opened them and looked up at Rogan.

"He's alive."

Rogan knew that. He could hear the man's heartbeat. It had synced with his the moment his bear had claimed the man.

"Dick, get me a towel or something," Harry called over his shoulder. "Tom's bleeding all over the place."

Rogan whimpered. He hadn't bitten Tom that hard.

Had he?

When Harry reached for the edge of Lord Harrington's shirt, Rogan's whimper turned to a growl. He didn't want anyone messing with his bite mark, at least not until it healed.

Harry jumped back, holding his hands up. "Okay, I won't touch."

Rogan held his new mate tightly in his arms as he settled back and waited for his bear to give up control. He'd happily wait as long as it took. Lord Harrington felt good in his arms, right. Besides, he doubted the guy would let him hold him once he woke up.

He had bitten the man after all.

"Can't one of you to get him to…I don't know, go human again?" Dick asked.

"He's in an agitated mood right now," Hawke replied. "He'll change back when he no longer feels threatened."

"How can he feel threatened right now? He's the biggest damn thing in here."

Rogan wanted to puff out his chest at Dick's observation and words, but that might jostle the man in his arms and his bear was totally against that. The protective streak running rampant through him right now was also concerned with Lord Harrington's comfort.

When Lord Harrington began to stir, Rogan tensed. He had no idea what the man's reaction was going to be. Lord Harrington's eyelids began to flutter then slowly rise. He stilled when he stared up at Rogan, not saying anything for the longest time.

Rogan was on the verge of shifting just so he could apologize when Lord Harrington reared back. He cried out when the man's hands slammed into his chest. Pain unlike anything he'd ever felt radiated out from Lord Harrington's hands to his chest, fracturing Rogan's ability to control his bear, except he couldn't move. He was frozen, unable to move a single muscle.

"What the fuck are you?"

His soul ached with misery when Lord Harrington scrambled out of his arms and backed up until he stood with his friends. His bear whimpered, wanting his mate back in his arms. He also didn't like the fact that he couldn't move. Being caged was not something a bear handled well, a bear shifter even less.

"Get out," Lord Harrington shouted. "Get out of my house."

Lord Wolfe took a step closer. "Lord Harrington—"

"I don't know what you are or why you are here," Lord Harrington bit out, "but I want you out of my house, and don't come back."

"You must listen to us," Wolfe insisted.

"I must?" Lord Harrington snapped. "Who died and made you God?"

"You don't understand," Lord Lyon said as he stepped up to stand beside Wolfe. Hawke stepped up to stand on the other side of Lord Wolfe.

Rogan wanted to argue that they were crowding Lord Harrington. They were going to frighten him more than he already was. They needed to give him space, breathing room. He needed to feel as if he had some control or he'd really freak. Rogan just couldn't move.

"Lives are at stake here," Wolfe finally shouted. "And you could save them."

Rogan wasn't positive lives were actually at stake, but they were certainly in jeopardy. Luckily, Wolfe's words kept Lord Harrington and his two friends from backing out of the room.

"What do you mean lives are at stake?" the man asked. "And how could I save them?"

"Please." Wolfe waved his hand back toward the table. "Sit with us and allow us to explain."

"Okay." Lord Harrington pointed at Rogan. "But he stays on that side of the table."

Considering he couldn't move, Rogan didn't think that was going to be a problem.

Wolfe shot him a quick look. "Do you think you could release Lord Behr so he could join us?"

Lord Harrington stared down at his hands like he'd never seen them before.

"Please?"

"No," Lord Harrington said without hesitation. "He can stay like that until he learns it's not nice to bite people without their permission."

Rogan wanted to pound his paws into the ground. He was being chastised by someone who had no concept of what it was like being a shifter. He could have no more prevented his bear from claiming the man than he could have howled at the moon.

He was a bear, not a wolf.

Rogan seethed as he sat there frozen in the corner and watched as everyone else sat down at the table. The anger burning slowly in his gut was growing by the second. He truly doubted Lord Harrington had any concept of what he was doing to his bear by caging him, but he was going to find out.

Rogan would never hurt his mate, but he sure had plans to redden his ass the second he was free. And then he was going to fuck that ass until the man understood which one of them was the more dominant species.

"Lord Harrington," Hawke said, "you really need to consider releasing Lord Behr. Shifters don't do well when caged."

Lord Harrington's eyes pinned on him. "Then he should have thought of that before biting me without my permission."

"I'm not sure he had a choice," Hawke replied. "If his bear was going on instinct—"

"That's no excuse."

"Lord Ha—"

Lord Harrington glanced back at Wolfe, Hawke, and Lyon. "Tell me why you are here or I walk."

Stubborn little shit. Rogan could appreciate that when it was directed at others. Not so much when it was directed at him. Still, he knew Lord Harrington would need every bit of that stubbornness if he was going to be dealing with the council.

"We're shifters," Wolfe began.

Lord Harrington's eyebrows rose up. "All of you?"

"Yes," Wolfe replied. "I'm a wolf. Lord Hawke is a hawk. Lord Lyon is—"

"A lion. I get it." Harrington held up his hand as he glanced toward Rogan again. "And Lord Behr is what? A bear?"

Rogan kind of thought that was obvious.

"Yes."

Lord Harrington stared at Rogan, his gaze intense. "Okay," he said as he looked back to the three shifters seated at the table. "Go on."

"As we were saying earlier, the veil separates the human world from the paranormal world. As the time keeper, you have the ability to stop time long enough for that veil to lower and allow shifters into the human world."

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Shifters cannot mate with their own kind. They must mate with a human. When we reach a certain age, we are sent through the veil to the human world in the hopes that we can find our mate. We can't do that if we can't get through the veil."

Rogan noted some softening in Lord Harrington's rigid features, but the man was still pissed. His face was a little pale and there was a pinched look around his eyes. He kept glancing down at his hands then over at Rogan.

Rogan's bear did not like it. He wanted to cuddle their mate in his arms and destroy whatever was upsetting him, except he was the one upsetting him.

"You need to understand, we wait our entire lives until we reach the age where we can cross over," Hawke said. "We can have sex with others and even have relationships, but we can never have children or be truly happy until we find our mate, and then we want no other."

"Ever?" Dick asked.

"Not ever," Hawke replied with a slight smile. "Once mated, it is impossible for a shifter to be unfaithful. We can't even get hard for anyone except our mate."

Dick blinked as his eyes widened. "Damn."

"Why would you be in such a hurry to find a mate if you couldn't get hard for anyone else?" Harry asked. "Seems kind of limiting to me. What happens if you get a divorce?"

"Shifters don't get divorced," Hawke said.

"Ever?" Dick asked again.

Hawke chuckled. "Divorce is a human concept. Not a shifter one. Once mated, there is no divorce in the paranormal world."

"But what if you hate each other?"

"We work it out," Lyon said.

"We believe that our mates were created for us by the gods," Hawke said. "Someone perfect for us in every way. Not only is it our duty to care for our mates' every need, but it is an instinctive desire buried deep down in our souls. It makes us happy to make our mates happy."

"Must be nice," Dick grumbled under his breath.

Apparently, he didn't understand that shifters had excellent hearing.

"How do you know if you've met your mate?" Harry asked.

"Smell mostly," Lyon replied. "They smell sweeter, more alluring than anything we've ever smelled before. There's also an overwhelming attraction that is very hard to ignore. That's what initially draws us to our mate. The rest is instinct."

"With all of the millions of people in the world, how can you hope to meet that one person you believe the gods created just for you?"

"Many of us don't," Lyon said, "but we never stop looking."

"The gods have a way of steering us into the path of our mates, usually when we least expect it." Hawke chuckled as he glanced at Rogan. "It's up to us to notice the signs and claim our mates when the opportunity presents itself."

Rogan knew they had reached shaky ground when Lord Harrington's eyebrows lowered and his eyes narrowed. "How do you claim your mate?"

"Oh, uh…" Hawke gulped as he glanced back at Lord Harrington. "We give them a mating bite."

Rogan inwardly winced when Lord Harrington stood and his eyes snapped to him.

"You claimed me?"

Yeah, this wasn't going to end well.

Chapter Six

Tom glared at Rogan with burning, reproachful eyes. He wasn't sure how much of this shifter bullshit he believed, but Rogan had no right to claim him without his permission. He hadn't even discussed it first. He'd just bitten him.

He didn't even want to think about what he'd done with his hands or how he'd frozen Rogan in place. One freak out at a time.

"Can I reject the claim?" Tom swung his gaze around to glare at Hawke, Lyon, and Wolfe. He was not reassured by the looks of horror that crossed their faces. "Well? Can I reject the claim or do I have to accept it even though he bit me without my permission?"

"Yes, you can reject Rogan's claim," Lyon said slowly, "but why would you want to? Now that he's mated to you, his bear will be devoted to you."

"Because I don't know this man. I know nothing about him. I don't even know what kind of man he is." Tom narrowed his eyes again as he looked back to Rogan. "And he didn't ask my permission first. Why would I want to tie myself to a man who puts his desires above my own and takes away my ability to choose?"

At least Rogan had the decency to lower his eyes, which told Tom that the man knew what he'd done was wrong.

"Lord Harrington, you—"

Tom huffed as he sat back down. "Call me Tom. Lord Harrington was my grandfather, and I'm still getting used to being him."

"Tom then," Lyon replied with a respectful nod of his head. "You need to understand that Rogan might not have been in control when he bit you. If you remember, he was already in his bear form when he claimed you. If his bear smelled you and knew you were his mate, he may have reacted before Rogan could stop him."

"So, his bear is in control right now?"

"At the moment, yes."

Tom frowned. He wasn't sure he liked that answer. "I thought you said you were sentient in your shifted form."

"We are. Rogan understands everything that is happening right now. He's just driven by his instinct instead of logical thought."

"Any human can reject a claim, Tom," Hawke said, "but as Lyon asked, why would you want to?"

Tom wanted to growl. "You're not human so I doubt you'd understand."

"Please, explain it to me. I have yet to claim a mate and I'd like to know what not to do if I am so blessed."

"Humans are big believers in free choice. In fact, we have laws that ensure we all have free choice."

"But so many of you do not have free choice. You steal and cheat and kill. How is that free choice?"

Tom hated that Hawke was right. "Because not everyone follows those laws. That's why we have law enforcement, to enforce those laws." Tom sighed. "It's not a perfect system, but it's the only one we have at the moment."

"Shifters also have laws. Most of them are the same throughout the paranormal world, but some change depending on the type of shifter you are."

"You don't have the same rules for everyone?"

"Does the human world?"

Tom frowned. "No, I guess not." Different countries had different rules, so that made sense. "Do you have some sort of law enforcement that enforces the laws you do have?"

Hawke nodded. "We do, yes."

"Is it you?"

"No." Hawke chuckled as if found Tom's question amusing. "We are…" He glanced at the two men sitting next to him. "How would you describe what we do?"

"We're like ambassadors," Lyon replied. "We are here to represent our prospective species in the human world. We do rule over the shifters that have come to this side of the veil, but we also have someone we answer to."

This is like pulling teeth.

"And who would that be?" Tom asked.

"Our king."

Huh.

"You have a king?"

"King Arthur."

Tom lifted one eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

Hawke chuckled again. "Yes, and to answer your next question, he is the same King Arthur from your human legends. He didn't die. Merlin simply created the paranormal world where King Arthur and his knights and the people of Camelot went when they were overrun by the Romans."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Are you pulling my leg?"

They had to be.

"No, we are not. Arthur is our king, and he was the king of the Camelot legend. What was not written in your history books is the fact that Arthur and the knights of the round table were all shifters."

The story was so outlandish, it might actually hold some grain of truth, but Tom still had questions. "If Merlin created the paranormal world and the veil, why can't he access the veil? Why do you need a time keeper?"

"Several reasons, I suspect."

Tom almost rolled his eyes. "Enlighten me."

"The first thing you need to understand," Hawke began, "is that any type of magic, like what Merlin used, takes sacrifice. In exchange for the magic to create the paranormal world, Merlin had to agree with the gods that the veil could only be accessed by a time keeper, who would always be human. That was to keep paranormals from coming to the human realm on their own and overtaking it."

"Okay, that makes sense."

It really did.

"The other thing you need to understand is that the power it took to create the paranormal world was immense. The gods couldn't leave that sort of power in the hands of any one person, so they basically lent it to Merlin long enough to create the paranormal world and the veil, and then they took it back. Merlin can never access that level of magic again. That was part of the price he paid."

"How do time keepers figure into this? I'm human and I'm pretty sure my grandfather was as well." His mother had been an angel and his father was the devil, but that was a different mythos.

"Time keepers come from the line of King Arthur himself."

Tom's jaw dropped open. "I'm related to King Arthur?"

"You're his grandson times like ten," Hawke said.

"So, if he was a shifter, how come I'm not a shifter?"

"That was King Arthur's sacrifice," Lyon said. "He can never give life to a shifter child."

Tom had no idea why that thought made him sad. He didn't know this man. He wasn't even sure he was real. These guys could be feeding him a huge lie to get whatever it was they wanted from him. Considering the size of the estate he'd just inherited, there was a lot for them to want.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

All three men pointed to Rogan.

"Okay, that part's real." The living proof of shifters was right there in all his furry glory. Frozen in place by Tom's very hands, which he had still to figure out. "But the rest of this is just insane."

Like, really, really insane.

"How old is King Arthur?" Dick asked. "If he's the same man from our legends, he's got to be ancient. How could he still be alive much less breathing?"

"We haven't been able to access the veil since your grandfather passed," Hawke said, "so things may have changed on the other side. I assume King Arthur is still on the throne, but I could be wrong."

"Shifters tend to live very long lives," Lyon said. "That's why we believe the gods give us mates. So we have someone to go through the years with."

"I'm two hundred and twenty years old," Wolfe said. When Tom's jaw dropped, Wolfe chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows. "I look good for my age, don't I?"

Honestly, he did. He didn't look a day over thirty-five. None of them did.

Tom rubbed his hands over his face then leaned back in his chair, dropping his hands to the table. "Okay, let me see if I understand this. You are all shifters. You're ambassadors here in the human world even though you are from an alternate universe you call the paranormal world."

"We actually call it Camelot." Hawke shrugged. "King Arthur named it after the kingdom he ruled here in the human world."

"Okay, so you're all from Camelot." Tom couldn't believe he'd just said that. "There's a veil between the human world and your world that can only be accessed by a time keeper, which is me."

"Correct so far," Hawke replied.

Tom pointed to the bear in the corner. "Then how does him biting me figure into all of this?"

That might be his biggest question yet. Well, that, and how in the hell had he frozen Rogan in place? That was never something he'd been able to do before now. He would have frozen his father so many times.

"From the glare he's giving me," Hawke said, "I'd say he's your mate."

"We already discussed that part," Tom snapped. He was still angry the man…uh…bear…whatever…had bitten him without his permission. "How can he be my mate if he's one of your ambassadors? Doesn't that seem like preferential treatment for bears?"

"It could be seen that way, certainly," Hawke agreed, "but you don't strike me as a man who'd let your personal feelings interfere in the lives of others."

No, probably not.

"I need time to think about this." Dick and Harry stood when he did. "I'm sure Mannford has your numbers. I'll call you when I'm ready to talk."

"Very well, but please remember that we haven't been able to access the veil since your grandfather passed away. There are many waiting to come through to this side so they can find their mates."

Tom nodded before his eyes went to Rogan. He just wasn't sure what to do about the man. He was still pissed, but he couldn't exactly leave a bear roaming Harrington Hall, especially not when there would be a crap ton of people arriving to attend his grandmother's funeral.

"What are we going to do about him?" Tom nodded toward Rogan.

"I doubt he'll leave now that you're mated. Shifters tend to want to stay close to their mates," Hawke said. "Best to just leave him there until he shifts then you can tell him to leave or stay, whichever."

"Fine. You deal with him."

Tom ignored the whimper he heard as he walked out of the study. Something tugged at him low in his gut, wanting him to turn around and go back, but he couldn't. Not until he had some time to think about everything he'd learned.

It might take a while.

"Bloody hell, Tom," Harry exclaimed. "That's some heavy shit."

"I need to talk to Mannford," Tom replied. "I need to know how much he knows about this and if any of it is true."

"You think Mannford knows about all of this?" Dick asked.

Tom snorted as he glanced at his friend. "Do you really think there is anything that goes on in this place that Mannford doesn't know about?"

Dick chuckled. "No, probably not."

Tom found Mannford in his office, giving the cook the meal plan for the wake following the memorial service for Lady Sophia. He stepped into the office then waited for them to get done talking.

Mannford looked up at him almost immediately. "Was there something you required, sir?"

"A moment of your time, if possible."

"Of course, sir." Mannford snapped his fingers. The cook hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Mannford folded his hands behind his back. "How may I be of service, Lord Harrington?"

"How much do you know?"

"I've been here since the beginning. I know it all."

"Are you one of them?" Tom asked without giving specifics. He didn't know who might be listening, and he didn't think it was a good idea for any of this to get out.

"In a manner of speaking, sir. I am not a shifter as the others are. I am from the line of Merlin, and I was created to be the guardian for the house of Harrington and the time keeper."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "If you're not a shifter, what are you?"

"I am a gargoyle, sir. I was created from the stones in the foundation of the original castle of Camelot, and the blood of my sire, then brought to life in the fire of dragon's breath."

"You weren't born?"

"I came into this world as a newborn infant and grew much as you did. I had a father, but no mother."

"A father?" Tom asked. "Is he still around?"

"I am unsure, sir. The contact through the veil has been denied to everyone since the passing of the last time keeper."

"My grandfather?"

"Yes, sir."

Tom swallowed hard, trying not to reveal his anger. "Why wasn't I told any of this before now?"

"Your grandmother forbade it," Mannford replied.

"Why?" It would have been so much easier if he'd learned about all of this before the job was thrust upon him.

"While the world was told that your grandfather died of a heart attack, we believe he was murdered. Lady Sophia didn't want the same thing to happen to you."

Tom reached out and grabbed the nearest chair, sinking down onto the soft cushions. "My grandfather was murdered?"

"He was poisoned, sir."

"Poisoned?" Tom whispered. "With what?"

"We believe it was a poison made of Hosen Berries, which can only be found on the other side of the veil." Mannford grimaced as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "Unfortunately, we were unable to investigate because the veil was closed to us upon his death."

Tom pressed a hand to his throat when fear spiked through him. "Do you think the killer is on this side of the veil?"

"It is uncertain, sir. The poison is slow acting, so whoever gave it to him could have had time to go through to the other side before your grandfather passed away."

"But doesn't he have to stop time so the veil can be accessed?"

Mannford nodded. "As I said, the poison was slow acting. Whoever did this could have had time to go through the veil before he died."

"Is there any records of who came and went through the veil before he died?"

"The records are missing, Lord Harrington, all of them. Every piece of information your grandfather had gathered on shifters, Camelot, and the veil is all gone. That was our first clue that his death might not have been natural. Your grandfather kept meticulous records of every person who came through the veil from the other side or went back. He felt it was his duty, and he fulfilled it until his death. With those records missing, we have no idea who might have wanted him dead."

Well, damn.

Chapter Seven

Rogan was able to move again the second the door closed behind Tom. He was still growling as he shifted back to his human form then straightened his clothes. He was very grateful shifters retained their clothes when they shifted. He had no wish to flash these yahoos.

He glared at those sitting around the table. "You guys are a lot of help."

Hawke chuckled. "Your mate is delightful."

That wasn't exactly how Rogan would describe him.

"Don't expect to see him anytime soon," Rogan said as he stalked toward the door. "His ass is going to be too sore to sit down." Rogan was going to paddle it until it was red.

"You do remember that he froze you in place, don't you?" Lyon asked. "You weren't around to experience what it truly is to be in the presence of a time keeper, but they are not someone you want to mess with."Rogan paused before he reached the door and turned to look at the others, a small frown puckering his brow. "How did he do that anyway?"

"Because time keepers are always born human, and they deal with overly aggressive shifters on an almost daily basis, the gods gave them a few powers to help them keep themselves safe. One of them is the ability to temporarily freeze people in place."

Damn.

"And the others?"

"That's the only ones I know about," Lyon said. "I learned early on not to screw with the time keeper. I'd advise you to do the same."

Oh, Rogan had every intention on screwing with the time keeper—on every flat surface he could find—and assuming he could get the guy to talk to him again. His chances weren't looking too good at the moment.

Stupid bear.

"I'll see you at the memorial service," Rogan said as he started for the door again. "I have some things to do."

Hawke chuckled. "I'll just bet you do."

Rogan didn't think the man's statement deserved a response from him, and it would be rude to punch Hawke for even thinking of Tom in those terms, so he just walked out.

He'd almost reached the end of the hallway when a door behind him opened. Rogan turned then wished he hadn't when he saw Tom and his two friends walk out of a room just down from the study. He stared intently, taking in every inch of his mate's sexy form. His lush hair, his svelte body, his curious brown eyes.

God, he was breathtaking.

Rogan swallowed hard when their eyes met. His bear was growling at him, demanding they go back for their mate. Rogan knew it wasn't going to happen, not right now. Tom wanted time to think and come to terms with having his world turned upside down. It was the least Rogan could do for his mate, so he turned and continued walking.

Leaving might possibly have been the hardest thing he'd ever done, but it was what he knew he needed to do. Tom had been right. Rogan's bear hadn't given him a choice in the claiming, but he could give him a choice now. Tom knew how to get in touch with him if—and hopefully when—he wanted to talk.

Until then, Rogan had things to do. Being the alpha of the bear clans wasn't for the faint of heart. Rogan had always assumed he'd been chosen for the job because he was the strongest of his kind when it was time to choose a new alpha. Now, he couldn't help but wonder if something else had been at play.

While it was generally believed that fate put mates in their path when the time was right, this seemed a little too premeditated for his liking. Had someone known they were mates before they met or were the gods really that powerful?

It was certainly something to consider.

Rogan was already in a foul mood by the time he got to the gate at the end of the estate driveway. When the gates opened and he saw Erika Foxx's limousine sitting across the road, his mood veered sharply into anger.

Erika was a vixen in the truest sense of the word. She was drop-dead gorgeous and she knew it. She also used those looks to get what she wanted out of hapless men who thought they might have a chance at landing the beauty.

She'd tried her wiles on Rogan on numerous occasions when he'd first arrived at the council. He hadn't been interested from the very start, and had no problems telling her so. He was pretty sure after that, he'd become a challenge to the stubborn ass woman.

He couldn't say the others on the council were immune to her charms, because they'd given into her scheming ways more than once. But he also thought there might be a hint of fear in their demeanor around Erika. She could hold a grudge for a very long time, and she never forgot anyone who might have slighted her.

When her window began to lower, Rogan revved his engine and pulled out of the driveway, shooting down the street in a squeal of tires and smoke. He had no desire to talk to the woman. Hell, he could have cared less if he ever saw her again.

They were not friends.

He did have a few others, however.

Rogan tapped the button on his steering wheel. "Call Hawke."

"This is Hawke," the man replied when he picked up.

"Just wanted to let you know Erika is sitting outside the gates."

"Bloody hell."

Rogan chuckled. "At least you've been warned."

"I wonder if Lord Harrington would let me stay the night here."

Just that quickly, Rogan's humor fled. He growled. "Don't even think about it."

"Get over yourself already. You claimed him which means he's off the market. That cute little blond, however…"

Rogan frowned. "What blond?"

He didn't remember a blond.

"His friend Dick."

"Is he blond?" Rogan hadn't noticed.

"You know he is."

"Yeah, whatever." Rogan chuckled. "Have fun with him, my friend. Just make sure you don't piss off the time keeper while you do it. We need him to agree to work with us or we'll never see home again."

"I am aware of the delicate nature of the situation."

"Call me if there's any problems."

"I doubt there will be."

"Just call me, Hawke." Rogan disconnected the call before Hawke could say anything more. He knew the man would call if there was a problem, not that Rogan expected one. Tom was safely locked behind the doors of Harrington Hall, a place not even the Queen of England could gain access to without an invitation.

It took Rogan an hour to reach the edge of his territory, and another hour to reach the home he'd built high in the mountain forests that covered most of the eastern part of the tri-state area where he lived.

Rogan didn't like being two hours away from his mate, but he still breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled up in front of his large log cabin. He could see a few cubs playing around on the side yard with their parents looking on. Others were filling a long table with food on the deck. Soldiers patrolled here and there, keeping a watchful eye on all of them.

Rogan heard several greetings as he climbed out of his vehicle and walked up onto the deck. He waved and continued on into the house. He wasn't exactly in the partying kind of mind. He was in the mind to get himself a good stiff drink. It was just too bad his shifter metabolism burned the alcohol off so quickly.

It took a shitload to get drunk.

"Hey, boss."

Rogan glanced up. "What's up, Bart?"

"Did your meeting go okay?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Is the new time keeper going to allow us to access the veil?"

"I can't rightly say at the moment." Rogan's heart sank when Bart's face fell. He knew the young man was anxious to see his family again. His parents had been on the other side of the veil, leaving him here with the clan, when the last time keeper passed away and they weren't able to cross back over. He hadn't seen them in twenty years. "His grandmother just died, Bart. I think he needs a little time to deal with that before he can take on his duties as the time keeper."

"Yeah, okay, that makes sense."

Rogan sent the younger bear a smile. "I have no doubt the time keeper will take up his duties just as soon as he can." He prayed his belief in Tom wasn't misplaced. "You've waited this long. You can wait a few more days."

"Yeah, I guess."

Rogan patted Bart's shoulder.

"I just miss them so much, you know?"

"I do." Rogan had family of his own on the other side of the veil. "You'll see them soon."

He grimaced as he watched Bart walk away. It was looking like he needed to go back to Harrington Hall and have a talk with Tom. He needed the man to understand just how important it was to so many people that he take up his duties as the time keeper.

Rogan sighed as he turned and walked back out the door. He stopped long enough to let his second-in-command know where he was headed then climbed into his car and took off back toward Harrington Hall.

He wished he could give Tom the time he asked for, but the needs of the people trapped on both sides of the veil outweighed his desire to give in to what Tom wanted. He could see Tom, make his case, and then give the man the time he had asked for. Tom just needed to understand how important this was to so many people.

Rogan hoped the man didn't freeze him again.

A thousand reasons why he should just turn around and go home ran through his mind as he drove the two hours back to the estate. Another thousand reasons why he should keep going battled with the first list of reasons.

It was a vicious, never-ending loop that he was no closer to breaking when he reached Harrington Hall than he had been when he left.

Rogan was a bit surprised when he pulled up to the gate that the guard let him through. He had been worried that Tom might have ordered the guards not to let him in. Maybe this meant the man had forgiven him for that mating bite.

Or he'd just forgotten to bar him from the estate.

Either way, some of the tension left Rogan's shoulders as he drove past the gate and down the long driveway leading to the manor house.

It came back the moment he stopped his car and climbed out. He drew in what he hoped was a calming breath as he started up the steps toward the massive front door. His bear was awake and beginning to move around inside of him.

Rogan could only hope he was stretching his muscles and not trying to come out. He didn't have a hope in hell of convincing Tom to take over his time keeper duties if his bear came out. The man would most likely run screaming from the room…after he froze Rogan in place.

The door was opened by Mannford before he even had a chance to knock on it. That man was a little spooky. He always seemed to know who was coming or going.

"I'd like to see Lord Harrington."

"I'm afraid Lord Harrington has retired for the evening. Can I take a message and have him contact you in the morning?"

Mannford was blocking the doorway, and Rogan didn't think it would win him any points to push past the man, no matter how much he might want to. "It's imperative that I speak with him."

"I will inform him of your visit first thing in the morning."

Rage spiraled through Rogan. He ground his teeth together to keep from growling at the tall man. Not only was Mannford keeping a council member from the time keeper, but he was keeping Rogan from his mate.

He understood that Mannford was merely doing his job as he had for the Harrington family for countless years, but the man couldn't understand the draw between mates. He had no idea that Rogan's insides were boiling and his bear was on the verge of making an appearance. He'd no doubt flip if Rogan suddenly shifted into a bear.

"I'll be waiting in my car." He wasn't leaving until he got a chance to speak with Tom, even if it meant an uncomfortable night spent sleeping in his car.

"Very good, sir."

Rogan growled when Mannford shut the door, and stormed down the steps.

Chapter Eight

"He's still out there."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Come away from the window before he sees you."

Harry turned away from the window to look at him. "Are you going to talk to him?"

"Maybe." Tom frowned as he stirred his coffee. "Probably."

He couldn't help but feel curious about the guy. If the other council members were right, the gods—whoever they might be—had created Rogan to be the perfect man for him in every way. He was certainly gorgeous enough. He pretty much checked every box Tom had.

The furry thing was a little weird.

"He's cute," Harry said.

"He's furry," Tom countered.

"You wouldn't have to get a dog."

Tom snorted, but a smile crossed his lips. "I've always wanted a dog."

He never imagined a bear, though.

Harry grinned. "So, you're going to see him then?"

Tom shrugged. He really hadn't made up his mind yet. He was still pissed that the guy had bitten him and claimed him without talking to him first. He wasn't saying he would have denied Rogan, because who didn't want some really hot guy lusting after them and wanting only their happiness?

He just wanted to be asked.

"Do you think these alpha types ask?"

"Ask what?"

"For permission," Tom said. "If I give in and agree to be Rogan's mate, do you think I'll be spending eternity being pissed at the guy for not asking me first before he does something, or do you think that was a one-time thing?"

"I think that Rogan isn't used to being told no."

Tom sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"But I also think you now have the means to make sure he toes the line." Harry waved his hand at Tom. "I'm not sure what you did back in the study, but he couldn't move a muscle. If he does something like that again without asking your permission, you can just freeze him in place, preferably when he's on the toilet. He'd be stuck that way." Harry wiggled his eyebrows. "You could take pictures."

Tom burst out laughing as a mental image formed in his mind. "That might actually be too cruel."

Harry shrugged. "You could use it as a threat."

Tom really didn't like threatening people, but it might come down to that if Rogan didn't learn to ask first and listen when Tom spoke.

"Man." Tom pushed his hand through his hair, brushing his bangs back from his face. "This mate stuff is hard."

"Harder than learning you're the next time keeper?"

Tom frowned as he gave the question due consideration. "No, that brings on a whole new level of chaos. With Rogan, it's just him I have to deal with. The time keeper is a lot more complicated because  entire races of people are involved."

"Have you decided if you're going to do it?" Harry asked.

"It?"

"Be the time keeper."

"Oh, yeah, probably. I guess I'm the only one who can. Except for some cousin I've never met, I'm the last living Harrington."

"You know you'll have to have kids to carry on the Harrington name and so someone can inherit the time keeper legacy, right?"

"How does that work anyway?" Tom's forehead scrunched as his frown deepened. "If I'm supposed to be mated to Rogan, how do I have kids? Have an affair with a girl on the side?"

"One, there is more than one way to have a kid, even one genetically yours. Turkey basters are a thing nowadays. You just need to find a nice girl to carry your kid, then you mix up her egg and your little swimmers in a martini glass, then bam, baby. Two, you'd never be able to get it up for a girl anyway, so why is that even a question?"

He wasn't wrong.

Girl bits made Tom shudder.

"Talking to Rogan about that might be your best bet. Maybe he knows of a nice bear shifter who would be willing to carry your kid."

"Cub," Tom corrected. "Bears have cubs."

"Yeah, but does that still apply if they are human?"

"Hell if I know."

Harry snickered. "Oh man, the entire foundation of our world has seriously shifted to the left in less than twenty-four hours. How weird is that?"

"Do you think my father knows?"

The smile slipped off Harry's face. "Shit! If he knows, there's not a shifter alive who's safe."

Tom was afraid of that. "I need to speak with Mannford. He'd know."

"You hope he knows," Harry said. "He might not."

Tom jumped up and headed for the door, followed quickly by Harry. Dick was still sleeping in one of the guest rooms. He headed downstairs then followed the sound of voices to the sitting room.

"Mannford."

Mannford instantly turned toward him. "Lord Harrington, how may I be of assistance?"

Tom's gaze slid to the housemaid still standing beside Mannford. "I need a moment of your time."

"Of course, sir." Mannford dismissed the maid then followed her across the room and shut the double doors behind her before turning to look at Tom. "Has something occurred, sir?"

"Does my father know?"

"Oh, I see." Mannford drew in a breath. "I don't believe so, sir, but I couldn't swear to it. Mr. Butler has been around Harrington Hall for many years. It is always possible that he heard or saw something."

Damn.

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Has he tried to contact you, sir?" Mannford asked.

"He was waiting outside our apartment yesterday morning, demanding to speak to me. We ignored him and kept walking so we could catch a ride here. He sent some guys after us, but we were able to lose them. He had to have known this was where we were headed. I just don't know how he knew grandmother had passed away."

"Your grandmother suspected he had someone here in the house who was feeding him information, but we were never able to pinpoint who it was."

Tom nodded. "I suspected the same thing after seeing my father."

"Lady Sophia had instructed me to scan the manor house for listening devices every morning. Do you wish me to continue that practice?"

Tom rubbed his hand over his abdomen as he nodded. It made him sick to his stomach to think of someone putting bugs in his grandmother's home. "Have you ever found anything?"

"There was a listening device in your grandfather's study a few months back, but the manor house has been clean other than that."

Someone was definitely trying to learn information. Tom just wasn't sure what information they wanted to learn. He couldn't take any chances. "My grandfather's study is off limits to all guests and staff, with the exception of you, until further notice. I also want the gates to remain closed until further notice, and no one is allowed inside without my permission."

"What would you like me to do about Lord Behr, sir?" Mannford asked. "He's still outside in his car."

"Invite him in for breakfast."

The corner of Mannford's lips twitched before he gave a stiff nod. "Of course, sir."

"Oh, one more question, Mannford," Tom called out when the guy turned and went to open the doors.

Mannford turned.

"I know I have to produce a kid to carry this time keeper thing on. How does that work if I'm mated to Rogan? Is there like a shifter surrogacy program or something?"

"No, sir, but I'm sure we could arrange something if you choose not to have a child yourself."

Tom blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Mannford's eyebrows lifted, a totally unusual gesture for the man. "This was not explained to you, sir?"

"This what?"

"A shifter can only have offspring with their mate."

Tom remembered someone saying something like that, but he hadn't thought they meant literally. "No, that part was explained to me."

"So, you have decided to carry Lord Behr's child then?"

"Fuck me," Harry whispered.

"You want to explain that to me," Tom said, "and use small words?"

Because he obviously wasn't getting it.

"Oh dear." Mannford sighed. "A shifter—Lord Behr in your case—can only have offspring of his own with you. It's the same for all shifters. As such, any human they mate with—male or female—can carry and give birth to said offspring."

Tom felt as if his eyebrows were so high, they were going to slide right off the back of his head. "Are you saying…?" He shook his head. "No, you couldn't be, because that's ridiculous. Things like that just don't happen in real life."

"Neither do shifters, sir."

"Oh damn." Tom dropped down into the sofa when his legs started shaking. "That's just…that's just…men can't have babies. Not like that."

"All shifters created from a union like yours must be born on the other side of the veil. When your time is near, you'll go to stay in the paranormal world until you give birth. Once the child is born, you, your mate, and your child come back to this world, unless you decide to stay in the paranormal world."

"Why?" Tom asked.

"Why, sir?"

"Why does a shifter have to be born in the paranormal world?"

"I believe it has to do with the magic of the place, sir, as well as the healers needed to assist in the birth. It is not natural in this world for a human male to give birth. You need the healing magic from the paranormal world to help you through labor and delivery."

"What about the human women who have shifter mates?"

"They may give birth in this world, although many choose to go cross through the veil to give birth. I've heard it is easier."

On who?

"Are there many same-sex matings in the shifter world?"

"Shifters do not differentiate between sexes, Lord Harrington. A mate is a mate. It matters not what sex they are."

Well, at least they had that going for them.

"If a human male cannot give birth on this side of the veil, and the veil has been closed since my grandfather passed away, then that means no human males have given birth in over twenty years."

Mannford's voice was a whole lot more subdued when he replied. "No, sir. A few mated couples tried, but the human father in each case passed away during delivery. Their mates followed soon after."

"And the babies?" Harry whispered. "Did any of the babies survive?"

"I'm afraid not, Master Harry."

"Oh my god." Harry sank down onto the other end of the sofa from Tom. "All those poor people."

Tom swallowed tightly. "That's why everyone is pressuring me to become the time keeper, isn't it?"

"I believe that is one of the reasons, sir, but not all of them," Mannford replied. "When the veil closed so suddenly, many families were separated, torn apart by the closing of the veil. Some had business interests on this side of the veil or the other and they wish to renew those endeavors. Others simply want a chance to come here to find their mates."

Tom rubbed his hands over his face before dropping them in his lap. "I really don't have a choice in this, do I?"

"There is always a choice, sir," Mannford said. "That is the beauty of the human world. You always have a choice."

Unless you're bitten and claimed without permission.

"Oh, some choice. I can walk away from this and who knows how many more people will die trying to have a kid or will never see their families again, or I can agree to become the time keeper, something I never knew about nor wanted." Tom's laugh was bitter. "Oh yeah, some choice."

There really was no choice, not if he wanted to be able to look himself in the mirror for the rest of his life. His conscience wouldn't allow him to let all those people suffer, even if it meant giving up his freedom to be the time keeper.

Tom stood and smoothed down the wrinkles in his shirt before sending Mannford a small smile he wasn't feeling one damn bit. "So, what's for breakfast?"

Chapter Nine

Rogan jerked awake when someone rapped on his car window. He sat up and quickly rolled the window down when he saw Mannford standing beside his car.

"Lord Harrington would like you to join him for breakfast, sir."

Finally!

Rogan rolled the window back up then grabbed his suit jacket and climbed out of the car. He pulled his jacket on then tucked in his shirt and thrust his fingers through his hair. He'd give just about anything for some mouthwash.

"If I may, sir? I suggest a visit to the guest bathroom before joining Lord Harrington in the breakfast room."

"I would be grateful, Mannford."

"If you'll follow me."

Rogan closed his car door then followed Mannford up the steps then into Harrington Hall. Mannford led him through the entry and down the hallway to the guest bathroom. Rogan nodded to the man before he stepped inside and shut the door.

He took care of business then washed his face. After drying himself, he opened the cabinet, ready to shout with glee when he spotted a jar of unopened toothbrushes and a container of mouthwash.

His teeth felt as if they had hair growing on them. Tom might not be ready to be mated—or kissed—but Rogan wanted to be ready when he was.

If he was.

God, Rogan really hoped Tom was ready.

Eager to see his mate again, Rogan quickly finished up then made sure he hadn't left a mess before walking out of the bathroom. Mannford was waiting for him right outside the bathroom.

"If I may have a moment, sir?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Lord Harrington had a bit of upsetting news this morning. I know it's not my place, but I'd like to request that you go easy on him, just until he gets his feet under him. He's floundering at the moment, and I fear too much will sink him."

"I won't hurt him, Mannford. Tom is my ma—I mean—"

Mannford held up his hand. "I am perfectly aware that Lord Harrington is your mate."

Rogan's eyebrows shot up. "You know about shifters?"

That might make things a lot easier.

Mannford looked down his imperious nose at Rogan. "I am a shifter."

It was rude, but Rogan couldn't prevent himself from leaning closer and sniffing. "You don't smell like shifter." At least, not any shifter he had ever smelled. "You smell human."

"I am from Merlin's line, tasked with guarding the Harrington line and the time keeper legacy."

Rogan felt as if his jaw had become unhinged. "How did I not know this?" He'd heard of the guardians of the legacy, of course. Who hadn't? He'd just never really thought they were real. Until just this second, he'd assumed he'd never met one.

Guess he was wrong.

"It is best if all except the lords of the manor not know of my linage. If I am merely a servant for the Harrington's, people tend to overlook me. It makes my job of protecting the Harrington line much easier."

"Then why did you tell me?"

"You are Lord Harrington's mate, are you not?"

Rogan clenched his hands and growled, "I am."

"Then you are closely connected to the lord of the manor. As his shifter mate, I do not believe you would prevent me from fulfilling my duty to protect him and care for him."

Rogan couldn't exactly argue with that. "I'll keep your secret as long as it brings no harm to Tom."

Mannford drew himself up and glared. "I have known the young lad since he took his first breath. I would never cause him harm."

"Then we're good."

Mannford huffed then turned and stalked back down the hallway. Rogan was pretty sure he hadn't made a friend by questioning Mannford's duty to Tom, but he'd do it again if he thought there was even a hint that Tom could come to harm through Mannford's actions.

He didn't really think that would happen, but he wanted to be clear from the very beginning where he stood.

He was pretty sure he'd accomplished that.

Rogan's breath caught when he stepped inside the breakfast room and caught his first sight of his mate. It had really only been a few hours, but he was sure Tom had grown even sexier in that time.

He was one lucky bastard.

When Tom's gaze turned toward him, Rogan stood a little taller.

"Lord Behr, thank you for joining us."

Us?

Rogan frowned as he glanced around and realized there was another man in the room. He hoped his smile was friendly enough not to offend because the last thing he wanted to do was share his mate.

"Thank you for the invitation," he replied as he walked farther into the room. He made his way around the room until he could sit in the chair next to Tom's and across from his friend's.

"I kind of had to." Tom picked up his coffee cup. "You were sleeping in my driveway."

Rogan dipped his head when his face heated up. "Yes, well, I needed to speak with you, and Mannford refused to wake you up."

"I need my beauty sleep."

"No, you don't."

Tom's eyebrows rose.

"What I mean is you're already pretty—handsome. You're already handsome enough."

Good god, this was hard.

Rogan felt like an idiot.

"Coffee?" Tom asked.

"Please." A gallon of coffee would do for starters.

Rogan waited until Tom had poured him a cup of coffee before grabbing it and taking a couple of sips. He didn't even care that it was straight black with no sugar. He needed the caffeine.

"So, tell me, Lord Behr—"

"Rogan, please." It didn't seem right for his mate to address him so formally.

"And I'm Tom."

Rogan smiled. "Yes, I know."

How could he ever forget?

"So, what did you want to talk to me about that was so important that you had to sleep in my driveway?"

Rogan had quite a few answers for that question, but he knew he needed to discuss the one that had sent him running back to Harrington Hall. "I wanted to talk to you about being the time keeper. I—"

"I've already decided to do it."

Rogan's eyebrows rose. "You have?"

Tom nodded and set his cup down. "Mannford pointed out several things to me, and I don't think I'd be able to look myself in the mirror every day if I denied people the right to see their families again or receive care while they are in labor."

Tom's eyes narrowed as he pointed a finger at Rogan. "Don't think you're going to knock me up just because we're mated. I have a lot of things I want to do with my life before I have kids."

Rogan didn't know what to address first. The fact that Tom knew about shifters being able to impregnate human males, the fact that he said he'd eventually be willing to have kids, or the fact that Tom had acknowledged that they were mates.

"I still don't know how I feel about males getting pregnant," Tom continued. "Seems kind of farfetched to me, but I watched you become a bear yesterday so I suppose anything is possible."

"It's more common than you think."

"I've never even considered it, so you're probably right."

"You'll eventually want kids, though, right?"

He could hope.

"I don't think it's a choice that I have," Tom replied. "Except for some obscure cousin I've never even met, I'm the last Harrington. I have a duty to pass on my family's legacy."

Rogan wasn't sure that was a good reason to have kids, but at least Tom was considering the idea. "There are ways of preventing pregnancy in males just as there are ways of preventing pregnancy in females. I have no objection to using them. I just hope you'll let me know when you are ready to have kids."

Tom seemed a little less solemn when he nodded. "I will."

Inwardly, Rogan and his bear were dancing a jig. Outwardly, he tried to remain calm. He wasn't sure he was ready to let Tom know just how important his answer was. "Thank you."

"Will you bite me again if I don't?"

Rogan smiled as he stared down into his cup. "I'll probably bite you no matter what you do," he responded honestly. He wouldn't—and couldn't—lie to his mate.

Rather than being disgusted as Rogan thought he'd be, Tom leaned closer.

"You're a big biter, I take it?"

"I'm a bear shifter," Rogan replied as he glanced up. "We tend to be biters."

Harry chuckled, and Rogan hoped that was a good thing. Tom looked thoughtful.

"What does being mates mean to you?"

"Me?" Rogan asked.

Tom nodded.

"Well, I never dreamed my mate would be the time keeper so I don't know how that will change things, but I also think having a mate was the best thing about being a shifter."

Tom propped his chin on his hand and asked, "How so?"

"Mates are like soul mates for humans. There is an undeniable connection with a single person. Everything about a mate calls to a shifter, attracts them. The way they laugh. The way the smell. The way they taste. Even the way they get angry."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Guess you were really attracted yesterday."

Rogan chuckled. "You were really something."

"Sorry about the whole freezing you in place thing."

"In all honesty, you had every right. I basically attacked you and bit you, and without your permission as you said. I'd like you to know I'm not normally like that."

"You mean you don't usually bite people without their permission?" Tom looked as if he wanted to laugh, but this was no laughing matter.

"Except in cases where I was defending myself or others, I've never bitten anyone, with their permission or not."

"So, I was just lucky then?"

Rogan really wasn't sure how to answer that question. "I am sorry for biting you without your permission. I would have liked to have gotten to know you first and then claimed you when we were both ready."

"So, why did you?" Tom asked.

"Once I shifted and my bear caught your scent, there was no stopping him. We've both been waiting for you for a very long time."

"How long?" Harry asked. "Just how old are you?"

"I'm two-hundred and eighty-three years old." Rogan winced when Tom's jaw dropped. "I hope you like older men."

Tom's eyes rounded dramatically. "I guess I kind of have to, don't I?"

That wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either.

"I've seen a lot of things and I've experienced even more," Rogan said. He swallowed tightly as he met Tom’s beautiful deep brown eyes. "I've never experienced joy like what I felt when I realized I'd finally found you."

"Oh, you have to date him now," Harry said.

Date?

Rogan wanted to punch the guy. He wanted to do more than date Tom. He wanted to spend time with him, to go to sleep with Tom wrapped up in his arms at night and wake with him still there the next day. He didn't want to have to go home to his own bed.

He wanted the right to show the world that Tom belonged to him. To kiss him when he wanted and sneak off together for a little afternoon delight. He wanted to whisper sweet nothings in Tom's ear and hear all his secrets then share his own.

"I can agree to that," Rogan said. If that was all he was going to get for now, he'd take it, no matter how much he hated it. He'd just have to figure out a way to keep his bear under control, because his furry half was not happy.

"Yeah, I suppose we can date," Tom said after a moment. He dropped his eyes and grabbed his coffee. "But I have a lot of stuff I need to do. I'm not sure when we'd be able to go out."

"Anything I can help with?" Offering his assistance was one way that he could stay at his mate's side. "I'm pretty familiar with life as a shifter. I might be able to help."

Some of the tension left Tom's shoulders as he chuckled. "Oh, I don't know. Are you sure you have the inside track? I mean, not everyone can turn furry. There might be secrets even you don't know."

Rogan chuckled. His mate had a sense of humor.

He liked it.

"If I don't, I suppose I could always ask one of the other council members." Rogan glanced from Tom to Harry then back again when they both went silent. "What?"

"We have reason to believe that my grandfather was murdered."

Rogan's heart lurched in his chest as fear swamped him. "What?"

"They told everyone he'd died of a heart attack, but he was poisoned," Harry said. "Mannford said it was a poison made of Hosen Berries."

Rogan sucked in a painful breath that made his chest ache. "Hosen Berries can only be found on the other side of the veil."

"Mannford told us," Tom replied. "There's something else."

"There's more?"

Tom nodded. "All of my grandfather's papers are missing. He kept meticulous records of who came and went through the veil, plus a history of our two worlds. That all went missing when he died, which gave my grandmother and Mannford their first clue that my grandfather didn't die of natural causes."

"Did they have any suspects?"

"No, but I do."

Rogan narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

He needed to know who to kill.

A tear trailed down Tom's face, making Rogan really want to know who to kill. Rogan placed his hand over the top of Tom's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Who is it, baby?"

"My father."

Chapter Ten

To say Tom was nervous would have been an understatement of epic proportions. He was terrified out of his mind. In a little while, people would be starting to arrive for his grandmother's memorial service. Friends, council members, aristocrats, even some royalty.

Tom just knew he was going to freak out in the middle of the service and everyone was going to laugh at him. He'd let down everyone he'd ever cared about, those that were still here and those that had gone on.

"Hey."

Tom jumped. He pressed a hand to his racing heart as he turned to look at Rogan. "Oh, hey, Rogan."

"You doing okay?"

"Honestly? No." Tom pushed his hair back from his face then glanced around. He felt unsettled, not sure what to say or what to do. "I hate big social gatherings or any type of gatherings. I can't stand them."

"Funerals have to be the worst."

Tom chuckled. "You'd be wrong. Family gatherings when my father was around were much worse. John Butler is a miserable old bastard who enjoys nothing more than making those around him just as miserable as he is."

"Is he going to be here today?"

"I didn't invite him, but that doesn't mean anything. If he thinks he can gain something from attending, he'll be here. He certainly wouldn't be here to mourn my grandmother. They hated each other." 'Hate' might not even be the word to describe how much they couldn't stand each other. 'Loathed' was a lot closer to how they felt about each other.

"You could bar him from the estate."

Tom shook his head. "Wouldn't do me any good. Not only would he find some way to gain entry, but he'd make me pay for barring him."

Something flashed in Rogan's eyes. "He won't touch you."

Tom couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips. With the exception of his grandmother, Harry, and Dick, he couldn't remember anyone ever getting pissed on his behalf. Considering the somberness of the day, the warmth that unfurled in his gut didn't make sense.

"I'd appreciate it if you stayed at my side today," Tom said. "I know I'm asking a lot, but—"

Rogan stepped right up into Tom's personal bubble space. "There's no place I'd rather be." His hand stroked down the side of Tom's face. "You have to know that."

Tom drew in a shaky breath as he raised his eyes to look at Rogan's face, staring at him with longing. He was acutely aware of Rogan's masculine presence. He could feel the sexual magnetism that made Rogan so self-confident.

"I guess I do," he whispered.

"May I kiss you?"

Rogan seemed to be peering at him intently, making Tom's heart turn over in response. Tom nodded, his feelings too overwhelming to verbally reply, but something in Rogan's manner soothed him.

Tom's calm was shattered when Rogan traced his lips with his tongue before covering his mouth hungrily. Rogan's moist, firm mouth demanded a response. The kiss quickly turned urgent and exploratory, sending spirals of ecstasy through Tom.

He was a little shocked at his eager response to the touch of Rogan's lips against his. They were supposed to be taking this slow, dating and getting to know each other. All Tom could think about was what that long, thick cock pressed against his abdomen would feel like pounding into his ass.

Tom broke away from Rogan's mouth and moaned when the man grabbed a handful of his ass. He arched closer, needing more friction, more pressure, more…something. "Oh, please."

"What do you need, baby?"

Tom wasn't sure he could put it into words, so he reached down and palmed Rogan's cock. Rogan bucked against him before groaning.

"Be sure you know what you're asking, Tom." Rogan's words were steel hard, but there was a slight tremor to the tone. "If I take you, I'm keeping you."

At the moment, that sounded pretty damn good.

Rogan fisted his hand in Tom's hair and yanked his head back until their eyes met. There was something feral in Rogan's eyes, something that made Tom want to tilt his head back and offer himself up to the powerful man.

"I will keep you, Tom. I will kiss you and touch you and fuck you whenever and wherever I want, and I won't ask permission first. You will be mine. My mate. Do you understand?"

Blood pounded in Tom's brain, leapt to his heart, and made his knees tremble as his emotions whirled and skidded. The very air around him seemed electrified, as if it too was waiting for Tom's response.

Tom licked his lips then whispered the words that he knew would change his life forever. "I understand."

He was totally unprepared for the response his words would garner. Rogan growled. Hard, searching lips slammed down on his, stealing his breath. He didn't even notice that Rogan was working his shirt off until the man pulled it off over his head. His pants and shoes quickly followed until he stood in the man's arms in all his naked glory.

His heart thumped erratically and a hot ache grew in his throat. Rogan made no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching Tom's every move.

Tom felt the strength of Rogan's hands as they cupped his ass and squeezed then lifted him up. When they reached the bed, Rogan followed him down as he laid him on the mattress. Tom's body tingled from the contact of his skin against the fabric of Rogan's clothes.

Tom's fingers ached to touch Rogan, but he didn't know what was allowed so he decided to just go with what felt right. Rogan continued to watch him as he reached up and unbuttoned his shirt then pushed it from his shoulders.

Rogan shrugged it off then leaned down to claim Tom's lips again. Tom eagerly opened his mouth and allowed the man in, going for the buttons and zipper on the man's pants at the same time. He wanted Rogan naked more than he wanted his next breath.

He had no idea why he was giving into this whole mate claiming thing so quickly. Logically, he knew he shouldn't be. All he could think was that it felt right to him. Every touch, every press of skin, every brush of Rogan's lips against his own, all of it felt right. Something was settling deep inside of him with each sweet caress.

Tom groaned and arched up when Rogan's lips latched onto his nipple. It was such a simple thing, but it drove him insane. His arousal skyrocketed, his cock hardening to steel.

Rogan's hot breath blew out across his skin as he whispered, "You feel so good, baby."

Ton didn't think he could verbalize how Rogan felt, his strong muscular body pressing him down into the mattress. There just weren't words invented in the English language to describe the utter bliss that shattered Tom's calm.

It was a feeling he eagerly accepted.

Tom cried out when Rogan moved down his body. The man lavished Tom's skin with his tongue, his teeth nipping here and there. Anticipation built in Tom until he felt as if he was poised on the precipice of something momentous.

Spots formed in front of Tom's eyes when Rogan's lips closed around the head of his cock. He'd had blow jobs before, but never like this. When Rogan sucked the entire length of his cock down his throat, Tom was pretty damn sure the man was trying to suck his soul out through his dick. He could have it as long as he never stopped doing what he was doing.

"Rogan," Tom gasped when two slick fingers speared his ass.

He had no idea where Rogan had gotten the lube, because he didn't keep any at his grandmother's house and he hadn't had the time to bring any here from his apartment.

He also didn't remember his lube being so warm or so smoother. It felt as if Rogan's fingers were wrapped in liquid silk. Heated liquid silk.

When Rogan moved up to kneel between his legs, grabbing his cock and moving it toward him, Tom held out a hand. "Lube, what did you do with the lube?"

They seriously needed more lube.

Rogan's wide grin confused him.

"What?"

"I am a shifter, baby, and you are my mate."

Yeah, Tom got that part. They still needed lube. "And?"

"When I've met and claimed my mate, my cock secretes a type of pre-cum that will ease the way for me to take you. Not only will it help your muscles relax, but it'll warm and create more sensation for both of us."

Tom's eyes rounded. He was still hesitant. Not using lube could cause serious damage.

"Do you trust me?" Rogan asked.

Tom nodded. He never even would have considered allowing the man into his body if he didn't trust him. Some people might see sex as simply a way to relieve tension and get their rocks off. It had always needed to mean more for Tom.

"I trust you."

Rogan's dark eyes grew glossy for a moment before he whispered, "Thank you, Tom."

"So, show me this special lube of yours."

Rogan blinked a few times then grinned again. "I think you'll like it."

He leaned forward, resting his weight on a hand he placed on the mattress next to Tom's head. Tom's breath caught when the head of Rogan's cock pressed against his tender entrance. He started to hold it when the man pushed in, but it turned into a long groan instead.

"Oh my god, that's insane." Tom had never felt anything like it. Not only was it hot, but the silky smooth feeling was sinking into his body, making him hyper aware of the huge cock pushing into his ass. Tom swore he could feel every vein on Rogan's long, hard shaft.

Rogan was moving slow, and it was making Tom insane. He understood that the man was trying to give him time to grow used to his impressive size, and he appreciated that, but if Rogan didn't start moving soon, Tom was going to strangle him.

He clutched at the man's arm, trying to urge him on. "Rogan!"

Rogan chuckled and snapped his hips, driving his cock deep inside of Tom.

Tom groaned as he lifted his legs and hooked them behind Rogan's back. His groan turned into a whimper of need when that changed the angle of Rogan's thrusts. Each time the man drove his cock in, it slid across Tom's sweet spot.

The feeling was exquisite and Tom wanted more.

"Please, harder."

Damn! Rogan gave him exactly what he wanted. He pounded into Tom, thrusting into him hard and fast and oh, man, was it glorious. Tom had to reach up and place his hands against the headboard to keep from being shoved through it.

The pressure in his balls built at an alarming rate. He forgot to breathe as he peaked. Tom cried out as his entire body tensed and went ramrod stiff. Ropes of cum splattered between them, coating their skin.

Rogan grunted then warm liquid heat filled Tom's ass.

Tom dropped his legs, unable to hold them up anymore. Every muscle in his body had melted into a pile of goo. He was sure of it.

Rogan carefully pulled out of him after a moment then rolled to the side of the bed. "Where's your bathroom?"

Tom waved his hand in the general direction of the bathroom. That was about all he was capable of at the moment. He had no idea how Rogan was even standing.

Rogan walked away, and after a moment, Tom heard the toilet flush. When Rogan came out of the bathroom, he had a wet washcloth in his hand. "Spread your legs, baby."

"What?" Tom lifted his head to look down at Rogan.

The man held up the washcloth. "I need to clean you up."

Tom's face flushed red as he suddenly got his muscles to move and rolled to the side of the bed. "I can do it."

"Tom, where are you going?"

"To clean up." He was perfectly capable of wiping his own ass, thank you very much.

"Baby." Rogan's arms wrapped around him, stopping him before he could reach the bathroom door. "Part of being a considerate lover is cleaning you up afterwards."

That had not been Tom's experience.

"Yeah, but I have…stuff…dripping out of my ass."

"I know." Rogan chuckled. "I was the one who put it there."

He sounded so damn proud, Tom couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just not used to it, okay. I haven't been around that much, but the couple of guys I…have…" Tom frowned as he turned to look at Rogan. "Are you growling at me?"

Rogan's jaw clenched. "It's not advisable to talk to your mate about your other lovers."

Tom lifted his eyebrow. "It's also not advisable to growl at your newly claimed mate when he's simply trying to explain why he's embarrassed." He narrowed his eyes, drawing his eyebrows down low over them. "And do you know why?"

Rogan's face went from angry to contrite in a flash. There was a hint of fear. "Because my mate can freeze me in place?"

"No, but that is always an option." Tom leaned in and pressed a kiss to Rogan's lips before turning and walking into the bathroom.

"Wait," Rogan called out. "Why?"

Tom stopped in the bathroom doorway and turned to smile at Rogan. "Because growling at your new mate when he's embarrassed and trying to explain something to you can end up with you sleeping on the couch instead of snug in bed with him."

Tom barely had the shower door open before he was grabbed from behind. He chuckled when he was pushed into the wall. "Does that mean you don't want to sleep on the couch?"

Rogan growled again. "I will never sleep on the couch. I will sleep in our bed every night with you wrapped in my arms."

Tom turned in Rogan's arms and peered up at him. "And just where will that bed be? I have an apartment I share with Harry and Dick, and I've just inherited Harrington Hall. I assume you have some place to lay your head unless you turn into a bear every night and sleep in the woods. I'd say that leaves us a lot of possibilities."

He was not reassured by the frown that wrinkled Rogan's forehead.

"I'm not sure," Rogan finally replied. "I guess I haven't given that a lot of thought."

"You might want to give it a thought then. I'm not sure what this time keeper entails, but I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be here at Harrington Hall." Tom winced when Rogan's frown turned into a grimace. "Sorry."

"No, I understand, Tom." Rogan pulled him closer. "You're the time keeper. What you can do for our worlds is very important. Lots of people are depending on you."

Tom got that. He just wished someone would tell him exactly what he was supposed to be doing because he didn't have a clue.

Chapter Eleven

Rogan felt proud standing beside Tom as the man accepted the condolences of those who'd come to the memorial service. Everyone seemed to have a kind word for Tom and something nice to say about Lady Sophia.

He was also feeling as protective as hell. There was something in the air that set his bear off every damn time he smelled it. The scent was elusive. He couldn't pin it down to one person. It seemed to float through the air in different areas and at different times, never staying in one place for more than a few seconds.

The hairs on the back of his neck had been standing on end for ages, and if his bear moved any closer to the surface, he'd start sprouting fur. The only thing keeping him from a full-blown shift was the fact that there were unknowing humans in the room and he had Tom glued to his side.

If Tom moved even an inch away, Rogan knew he'd shift for sure.

"Oh, no."

Rogan glanced to his left where Harry stood. "What?"

Harry nodded with his head. "He's not supposed to be here."

Dread filled Rogan as he turned to look where Harry had indicated. There was an older man striding toward them. He was dressed in an Armani suit, and had a deep scowl on his face. Two larger men—also dressed in dark suits—followed behind him. "Is that his father?"

That was the only person Rogan knew wasn't supposed to be here.

"That's him."

"I wonder how he got in," Rogan said, not really expecting an answer from Harry. Maybe Tom had forgotten to tell Mannford he didn't want his father to attend the memorial service. He imagined, with all the people coming for the service, things were pretty lax at the front gates.

"We need to head him off," Harry whispered. "Tom can't deal with this today."

"Tom is stronger than you think," Rogan replied. He had no intention of leaving the man's side, so if Tom couldn't be strong, Rogan would be strong for him. That's what mates did for each other, and Rogan wasn't about to let Tom down now that the man had accepted his claim.

"I'm going to head him off," Harry said. "You get Tom out of here."

"Maybe we should ask Tom what he wants to do." It was just a suggestion, but by the frown Harry shot him, it might not have been a very good one. "Tom is going to have to face him at some point."

Rogan was sure of it.

"Yes, but now is not that time." Harry's lips thinned as he glanced at Tom's father for a moment. "You haven't been around very long. You don't understand what a snake this guy is. He's done everything he could to tear Tom down, to belittle him and make him feel insignificant. It's like a life goal for him or something, and John Butler excels at it."

Rogan felt a growl building up in his throat.

The determination on the face of the man storming toward them sent a warning shiver through Rogan. Harry was telling the truth. This man was not here to give Tom his condolences. He was here to cause trouble.

"Tom." Rogan grabbed his mate by the elbow. "I need a few minutes. Will you go with me?"

Tom instantly turned toward him. His brow furrowed as he looked Rogan over. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm getting a little anxious with all of these people around." That wasn't a total lie. There was one person who was sending his anxiety through the roof. "Can we go to your study for a few minutes?"

"Of course." Tom immediately turned back to the person he'd been talking to, made his excuses, and then started for his study.

Rogan gave Harry a nod then hurried after Tom. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry intercept John Butler, stopping the angry man from chasing Tom down. Rogan used that opportunity to usher Tom out of the large reception hall and down the hallway to the study.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Rogan walked to the phone on Tom's desk and picked it up. "How do I get Mannford on this thing?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Dial one."

Rogan hit the one on the phone then glanced up at Tom as he waited for it to connect. "Mannford?" he asked as soon as the line connected. "This is Lord Behr."

"Yes, sir," Mannford replied. "How may I assist you, sir?"

"I believe John Butler was crossed off the guest list?"

"Yes, sir."

"He's in the reception hall," Rogan said as he watched his mate's face pale. "I'd like him and his two associates removed from the premises."

"At once, sir."

"And please inform whoever mans the front gate that Mr. Butler and his associates are not allowed on the estate grounds until Lord Harrington gives his okay."

"Of course, sir. I'll see to it personally."

"Thank you, Mannford." Rogan hung up then gave Tom his full attention. "Are you going to be okay?"

Tom pressed his hand to his chest as if he was having trouble dragging air into his lungs. "My father is here?"

"He is, but I don't want you to worry about it." Rogan walked around the desk then drew Tom into his arms. "Harry is keeping him busy until Mannford and the guards escort him off the premises. You don't even have to see him."

"He'll find a way to get to me," Tom insisted. "Just you watch. My father doesn't take it well when people go against his wishes. He'll get in somehow."

Despite Harry's warning, Rogan couldn't help but wonder if that was a bad thing. Tom needed to see his father and learn that he wasn't the boogeyman. Tom was an adult. His father didn't have the right to make Tom do anything he didn't want to do.

"So, what if he did get to you?" Rogan asked. "You're Lord Harrington now. What can he do to you?"

Tom shook his head. "You don't understand."

"Wouldn't it be better to meet with him, see what he wants, then make him go away?"

Tom shook his head even harder.

"I'll stay with you the entire time." He had no idea if that would make a difference for Tom, but he wouldn't leave his mate's side no matter what he decided.

Tom slumped in his arms. "I could go the rest of my life without seeing my father and die a happy man."

"While I don't think you should have to see him, from everything you and Harry have told me about the man, he won't stop trying to see you."

"He won't."

"Then you're going to have to deal with him at some point."

Tom groaned, and it wasn't the good kind of groan. "I don't wanna."

Rogan chuckled as he settled his chin on the top of Tom's head. "I promise I won't leave your side."

"You can't fur out either. My father doesn't know about your kind, and he can't know. None of you would be safe from him."

Rogan frowned as he leaned back far enough to look into Tom's eyes. "I'm a bear shifter, Tom. What do you think he could do to me?"

"Blackmail you for starters."

Rogan squinted in confusion. "Blackmail?"

"John Butler would never lower himself to lay a hand on anyone. He has goons to do that. He's more the blackmail type. If you have a secret, he'll try to figure out the best way to exploit it to get what he wants."

"And what does he want?"

"Usually power."

Well, that wasn't good.

Rogan's frown deepened as he slowly started to understand just what had Tom so freaked out. He'd been thinking this was a power play where being a strong shifter would help him win the day, but this was a situation he might not be prepared for.

"We obviously need to set up a meeting where we have the upper hand."

Tom snorted.

Rogan chuckled. "It was a thought."

"I know you think I need to confront my father to exorcise my ghosts so to speak."

Rogan did, but he was surprised Tom had figured that out.

"But you really need to hear me when I say my father is evil incarnate. Before I was even born, he was plotting. He married my mother while she was on vacation and before my grandparents could interfere. Once he was married to a Harrington, he played the devoted husband until the moment I was born, when his true colors came through and my grandparents kicked him out. He's been trying to wheedle his way back into my family ever since."

Realization dawned on Rogan like a sledgehammer to the head. "He saw you as a guarantee that he'd have access to the Harrington power and money."

Tom grimaced. "I don't know if I'd put it like that, but yes."

"I know you said you suspected he was the one who poisoned your grandfather, but do you really think that?"

"I do, but—"Tom gasped and his grip on Rogan's shirt tightened. "If he was the one who poisoned my grandfather, then he has to know about shifters."

That wasn't good.

"I haven't spoken to my father in years. When he showed up outside my apartment, I thought he was there because my grandmother had passed away. But if he knows about shifters, he could have been there because he knows I'm the new time keeper."

Rogan's stomach began to knot. "Do you think that's possible?"

"Anything is possible with John Butler."

Rogan was really beginning to not like this guy. "I hate to say this, Tom, but I still think we need to meet with your father so we can find out how much he knows."

"He won't say anything in front of you, at least not anything that would make him look bad. It wouldn't do for anyone to think John Butler wasn't the charming man he presents to the world."

Rogan stared at Tom, watching the play of emotions cross the man's face. Everything from sadness to anger to disgust and fear. "No one ever believed you, did they?"

"My grandmother did, but she was the only one. Well, Harry and Dick did too, but they've seen what my father is like firsthand. They've been my best friends since we were little kids, something my father couldn't stand."

"Why not?" Rogan asked. "They seem like good guys."

They were very protective of Tom, that was for sure, and that made them okay in Rogan's book.

"They weren't born into the aristocracy. They're everyday common mutts, as my father likes to say. He only wanted me associating with people handpicked by him." Tom shrugged as if that hadn't affected him, but Rogan knew it had. There was no way it couldn't. "Something happened around the time I turned twelve. He suddenly stopped arguing about it. I think my grandmother paid him off."

"I hate that she had to do that, but I'm glad she did." Rogan hugged Tom a little tighter. "Your friends are good men, and I'm glad they were there to take care of you until I arrived."

Tom was narrowed as he tilted his head back. "You do know I can take care of myself, right?"

Rogan chuckled. "I am quite aware of that fact." How could he not be? Tom had frozen him in place. "But that won't stop me from trying to take care of you anyway. It's kind of in the mate job description."

He growled and turned when someone knocked on the study door.

"Who is it?" Tom called out.

"Harry and Dick."

Tom walked over and opened the door, letting his friends in. "Did he leave?"

Harry nodded as he walked in, followed quickly by Dick, and strangely enough, Lord Hawke. "He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't make too much fuss. I don't think he wanted your guests to see him arguing with Mannford."

Tom snorted as he shut the door behind his friends. "No, my father would never lower himself to argue with a servant. It isn't dignified."

"Your father sounds like a real trip," Hawke said.

Tom glanced at Harry and Dick. "He might be a killer."

Chapter Twelve

"What?" Harry asked. "You were serious when you said that?"

Tom nodded. "You know Mannford told us that my grandfather didn't die of a heart attack. He was poisoned. What he didn't tell us was that my father may have been behind it." Tom glanced at Rogan for support as well as permission to continue speaking. He didn't know Lord Hawke and didn't know if the man could be trusted.

When Rogan nodded, Tom continued. "My father may also know about shifters."

Harry and Dick both sat down. Tom was a little surprised by the tears that sprang to Dick's eyes or the stricken look he gave Lord Hawke before he turned his head away. He didn't say anything about Dick's tears. He wouldn't embarrass his friend like that, but he'd be asking about that look later on when they were alone.

"Do you know what he could do with that sort of knowledge?" Harry asked.

"I do, although I'm curious why he hasn't done anything before now if he knows about shifters." That part didn't make sense to Tom. "My father is not one to let an opportunity like this to pass him by."

"Maybe he was biding his time," Rogan said. "You did say he played nice until you were born and his place in the family was assured. Maybe he was waiting for you to become the time keeper."

Tom rubbed his stomach, wishing the sick feeling in his gut would go away, but he doubted it would. "He wants to use my position as time keeper for something, but what?" Tom glanced at Rogan. "What can he gain by having access to the shifter world?"

"What couldn't he gain?" Hawke asked. "With that kind of information, he could blackmail shifters and drain them of everything they hold dear."

"No to mention the gold and exotic gems that are so abundant in the shifter world," Rogan added. "I've seen some gems worth a small fortune."

"That would do it," Tom said softly, his heart sinking. His father saw money as a way to gain power. The more money he had, the more power he had.

"I say we play dumb," Harry said. "Your father probably knows you were never trained as the time keeper. He might know you don't know anything about it. Maybe we can convince him your grandmother passed away before she could say anything to you."

"But if he already knows about shifters…" Tom started.

"So he knows. So what?" Harry asked. "If he tries to convince anyone that shifters are real, they'll think he's a loon and lock his ass up in a crazy farm."

What Tom wouldn't pay to see that.

"He can't get through the veil without your assistance," Harry continued, "so we know he hasn't gone there. He can't exploit anything from the shifter world without your assistance either, and I doubt you'll give it."

"I won't," Tom said quickly. "I don't think that's what this time keeper thing is supposed to be used for."

"Being the time keeper is a gift that you share with so many others," Rogan said. "It's not meant to be used for personal gain."

"My father won't understand that. As far as he's concerned, everything is to be used for his personal gain. Me, my mother, the veil. It doesn't matter. If it can get him more power to wield, he wants it."

"So, we meet with your father," Harry said. "We deny any reference to shifters or you being the time keeper, and then we tell him to go away and never come back." Harry shrugged. "Easy peasy."

"It won't be that easy and you know it." It never was with Tom's father. "He always has an angle to play."

"We still need to find out what he wants, Tom," Rogan said. "The more we know, the better we can prepare."

Tom groaned. "I don't wanna."

Rogan chuckled as he wrapped an arm around him and drew him close. "You've said that before, mate. I still think it's a good idea. We need to know what he knows and what he wants so we can be prepared for whatever he pulls."

Tom snuggled closer then nodded his head. He knew there was no way out of this for him. He'd have to meet with his father. "After the memorial service is over, I'll have the Harrington attorneys contact him and request a meeting."

"Do you think it's a good idea to get lawyers involved?" Lord Hawke asked.

"Hell, yeah." Harry snorted. "If we make this all above board, then Mr. Butler can't fuck with Tom. He wouldn't want to do or say anything that might tarnish his reputation and good standing among the aristocracy."

"He's right, Hawke," Dick said. "If we get one of the lawyers to draw something up saying Tom doesn't want anything do with his father, then there's a paper trail."

"He'll only do that if there's something in it for him," Tom pointed out. "I'm his golden goose. He won't give up access to me without some serious compensation."

Hawke gave him a strange look. "If you don't want to see him, don't see him. What can he do?"

"A lot," Dick replied. "I can't think of much John Butler wouldn't do to get what he wants."

Harry snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to marry Tom off to one of his cronies so he can get his hands on the Harrington money."

Tom stiffened as a cold dread wrapped around his spine and gave it a good shake. He glanced up at Rogan. "How do shifters feel about human weddings?"

Rogan's eyebrow arched. "We have weddings just like everyone else does. Shifters aren't any different from humans except that we can shift forms. We still live like humans."

"Then we need to get married."

Both of Rogan's eyebrows went up this time. "You want us to get married?"

"We're mates, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"Then we're getting married." Tom refrained from telling Rogan how big of a deal it would be for a Harrington to get married. 'Social circus' didn't even begin to describe it. "I'll have Mannford send out the banns."

"Banns?" Rogan asked.

"It's like a wedding announcement," Harry explained. "Rich people use them."

"We can't get married for at least six months because of grandmother's passing," Tom said, "but we want the world at large, and especially my father, to know we're getting married. It'll keep him from trying to do any backroom deals with any of his buddies."

"You really think he'd try and marry you off to someone?" Hawke asked.

"First chance he got," Tom replied honestly. "If he thought it was a way to access the Harrington money, he'd sell my soul to the devil."

"Don't you have to agree to be married for it to actually happen?"

Tom snorted. "My father would never see my refusal to marry who he wanted me to marry as a barrier to getting it done. He'd pay off the preacher or knock my ass out to force me to do what he wanted." Tom swallowed the bile rising in his throat as he glanced at his friends then Rogan. "Or take someone I care about and hold them hostage until I agreed to do what he wanted."

Tom had spent his entire life watching out for Dick and Harry, afraid that his father would harm one of them if Tom didn't do what he wanted. Now, he had a whole new worry. He was terrified that his father would learn he was mated to Rogan and use him.

He turned in Rogan's arms and clutched at the man's shirt. "You seriously need to think about moving to Harrington Hall. It's safer here."

"Shifters are pretty hearty bunch, Tom."

"Can you survive a car bomb?" Dick asked as he stood.

Tom tucked his lips when Dick crossed his arms. Rogan had no idea what he was dealing with when Dick was pissed off. He was attending college to be a lawyer, and he was going to be a damn good one.

"How about a semi-automatic weapon? A fire? Having your head chopped off?" Dick continued. "What if Tom died? Could you survive that?"

"Okay, I get it." Rogan held up a hand. "But do you really think moving to Harrington Hall is the answer?"

Tom dropped his eyes. "It's just a suggestion."

He was starting to wonder how this whole mate thing was going to work. Every time he turned around, Rogan was reminding him that he was a shifter, that he was stronger and faster than a human. Which sounded great, except Tom was human and he was starting to feel as if he wasn't good enough.

"Why don't we shelve this conversation for now," Tom said. "I need to get back to my guests. I've taken more time than I should away from them. As the new Lord Harrington, I think it's important for me to be present for my grandmother's memorial service, not hiding in my study."

At the moment, there really didn't seem to be much else to say. Rogan would take Tom's advice and move into Harrington Hall or he wouldn't. Tom couldn't force him. He couldn't even force him to go through with the wedding, something Rogan didn't seem very enthusiastic about.

Maybe things were different with shifters despite what Rogan said.

Or maybe it was just Rogan.

Tom had accepted being mates and made a whole lot of assumptions about what that meant. He was starting to think none of his assumptions were right. Maybe being mates just meant Rogan had sex on tap and someone to bite when he was furry.

Tom's heart was so heavy, he felt as if he had an elephant sitting on him. He wanted to press his hand to his chest, but he felt stupid enough for thinking being mates meant more than booty calls on tap.

He flashed Rogan and the others a smile he wasn't feeling in the least then started for the door. "I'm going to have a quick word with Mannford. Then I'll meet you all out in the reception hall."

He also wanted to stop by the bathroom for a few minutes. He needed just a couple of seconds to breathe and regain his composure. He wasn't in tears or anything, but today had been very taxing. The weight of two worlds was sitting on his shoulders, and he wasn't sure he was strong enough to hold them up.

He didn't want to walk away from Rogan, but that's exactly what he did. He knew if he stayed, those tears he was fighting off so hard would make an appearance, and then he'd be even more embarrassed than he was right now.

It was telling to him that Rogan didn't follow him. Granted, he'd told everyone he'd meet them in the reception hall, but he had kind of figured Rogan would follow him.

Another assumption.

He seemed to be making a lot of them lately.

Tom stopped off in the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face then straightened his clothes. The one thing he didn't have to make any assumptions about was that everyone would be looking at him as the new Lord Harrington and judging him. It was the nature of the world he lived in now. He couldn't help but wonder if it was the same in the paranormal world.

He took one last look in the mirror over the sink then let himself out of the bathroom and started down the hallway once again. He started to go look for Mannford to tell him to announce his engagement to Rogan when he realized the man had never actually agreed to marry him.

That stopped Tom in his tracks.

They had discussed getting married and they had discussed the benefits of it as well as the fact that shifters got married just like humans did, but Rogan had never once agreed to get married.

Tom almost turned around and walked back into the bathroom when tears prickled the corners of his eyes. He blinked rapidly until they went away then made his way back into the reception hall, without looking for Mannford.

Marriage was something he took seriously. If Rogan truly didn't want to get married, Tom wasn't about to force the man into it. That was no way to live a married life. That was no way to live any life, and Tom wasn't going to make Rogan live it. He wanted the man to want him, not take him because he had no other choice.

Was that too much to ask?

Chapter Thirteen

"You're an idiot."

Rogan's eyebrows rose as he slowly panned to look at Harry. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Harry snapped. "Tom is the best thing that will ever happen to you, and you're on the verge of losing him because you're a fucking idiot."

Rogan's eyebrows snapped together as he growled. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Even I know what he's talking about, Rogan," Hawke said. "Every time Tom brings up one of his concerns, you tell him not to worry. That you're a shifter. You can handle it, and then you try to wrap him in bubble wrap. So, either you don't care about Tom's concerns or you think you're better than him because he's human and you're a shifter. Either way, I would have walked out on your ass, too."

Rogan narrowed his eyes. "You're being ridiculous."

There was no way Tom could possibly think Rogan thought he was better than him because he was a shifter. True, Rogan was stronger and faster, but Tom was the time keeper. If anything, he was better than Rogan.

"Are we?" Dick asked. "Is that why Tom was almost in tears when he walked out of here?"

Rogan's heart lurched. "He's just emotional. Today is a trying day for him." It was his beloved grandmother's memorial service after all.

That had to be what had Tom so upset because there was no way Rogan could be causing his mate to cry. It just wasn't possible. Having a mate was something he had dreamed about his entire life. He'd never do anything to cause his mate pain.

"Bullshit," Dick said.

Rogan glared at him.

"Dude," Harry started. "I've known Tom most of my life, and I'm telling you now. You'd better get your head out of your ass or you are going to lose him. Tom won't stick around if you continue to make him feel like he's not good enough. He had enough of that from his father. He won't take it from you."

"I'm not trying to make him feel like he's not good enough," Rogan insisted. "I would never do that."

Yes, shifters were stronger and faster than humans, but that didn't make them better. It just made them stronger and faster. Humans could still be smarter, and definitely better looking. Tom was proof of that.

They also had a lot more compassion, which Rogan hoped Tom had in abundance because it looked as if he had some serious apologizing to do. He could only hope Tom had enough compassion to forgive him.

Man, he was fucking this mating up left and right. At this rate, he'd be lucky to have a mate by the end of the week. Another thing humans had an abundance of was stubbornness.

"You're his friends," Rogan said as he looked at Harry and Dick. "How do I fix this?"

Dick snorted and looked away.

That did not make Rogan feel any better.

"Well, standing here certainly isn't going to fix it." Harry pointed to the door. "What you want is out there."

"How do I get him to listen to me?" Rogan asked.

"You could try talking to him," Harry replied, "and when he speaks, listen. Don't just go off on how shifters are stronger and blah blah blah. Really listen to him. Don't just dismiss his worries because he's human."

Jeez, had he been that big of an ass?

Rogan shoved a hand through his hair as he started for the door. He knew he'd been that big of an ass. If he hadn't, he wouldn't need to apologize to his mate. His mate would be standing at his side where he was safe from anyone who wanted to fuck with him.

He had nothing against humans. As the saying went, some of his best friends were human. He just didn't understand them sometimes. Shifters were often ruled by their instincts. Humans were ruled by their gut, their heads, and their hearts. That wasn't a bad thing. It just wasn't something Rogan was terribly experienced with.

Maybe Tom could help him learn.

Rogan was feeling a bit more optimistic when he reached the reception hall until he saw the crowd of people surrounding Tom. The growl that built up in his throat threatened to break free when he saw the panicked look on Tom's pale face.

Tom didn't like social situations.

Rogan strode across the room with a purposeful stride. He pretty much forgot why he'd been on the hunt for Tom. He had another goal in mind. Rescuing his mate and making sure he didn't have a nervous breakdown in front of all these people.

Somehow, Rogan just knew Tom would be devastated if that happened. As much as he might hate it, Rogan knew keeping up pretenses was very important to Tom. He didn't want anyone to see him lose his shit.

He had to shove a few people out of the way, but he really didn't care what people thought of him. He only cared what Tom thought about him, and the man's brown eyes lit up when he saw Rogan walking toward him.

"Sorry I'm late, love." Rogan leaned down and pressed a kiss to Tom's lips before wrapping an arm around his waist. "Harry and Dick needed to talk to me for a moment. Apparently, I had physical ailment they needed to help me get straightened out."

Tom's eyebrows drew together as he turned and looked Rogan up and down. "What's wrong with you? Did you hurt yourself?"

Rogan leaned closer to whisper in Tom's ear. "It seems I have a severe case of head up my ass. It's not life threatening or anything, but it's obviously something that needs to be addressed before it becomes permanent, because that could be fatal."

Tom stared at Rogan with rounded eyes before bursting out laughing. Rogan grinned. Amusement on Tom's face was a lot better than seeing it drained of color because he was headed for a panic attack.

Tom patted Rogan's chest. "We'll work on that."

"Were you able to talk to Mannford before this horde descended on you?"

Tom paled again, looking away this time. "No, I wasn't able to talk to him."

Rogan stared at Tom, baffled at the lack of warmth in that reply. He certainly didn't know Tom all that well, but he had seemed a whole hell of a lot more enthusiastic about them getting married when they had been talking in the office than he was no.

Fear and anxiety knotted inside of him. Had Tom changed his mind about them getting married? Did he remember that no matter what happened, they were mates?

A wave of apprehension swept through him. He grabbed Tom by the arm and gave him a little tug. "Can I speak to you for a moment? In private?"

Tom pulled his arm free. "Now isn't a good time."

"Make it a good time," Rogan snapped through clenched teeth.

Tom's eyes narrowed.

"Please," Rogan said in a little less of a hostile voice. At least, he hoped it was less hostile. He didn't relish being frozen in place again, although he didn't think Tom would use his powers in front of a bunch of humans who didn't know about shifters.

Tom turned and smiled at the people standing around them. "Please, excuse me. I'm going to go make sure the refreshments are ready. Please, mingle, and if there is anything you need"—Tom waved his hand around—"there are plenty of staff to see to it."

Without saying another word, Tom started across the reception hall. Rogan wasn't stupid. He hurried after the man while trying to make it seem like he wasn't hurrying. Luckily, he had longer legs. He caught up with Tom before he even reached the large double doors leading out into the hallway.

Tom walked across the hall to the salon. Rogan stepped in behind him and closed the door before leaning back against it.

"Now, what do you want?" Tom's voice was absolutely emotionless, and it chilled Rogan to the bone.

"I want to know why you changed your mind."

Tom's brow flickered. "Changed my mind about what?"

"About us getting married."

"I didn't change my mind."

"Then why didn't you talk to Mannford?"

Rogan expected Tom to come back with another quick answer. Instead, he turned and walked over to pull back the curtain and look out one of the windows. "Tom?"

"You never said you wanted to get married."

"I do." He wanted that to be real clear. "I've already claimed you in the ways of my people. I'd like to do it in the ways of your people."

"Your people. My people." Tom spat out as he spun around. "Why can't they just be our people?"

Rogan was puzzled by Tom's outburst and more than a little nervous. "It's just a phrase of words, Tom."

"But it's not, Rogan. You're constantly separating humans from shifters. Shifters are stronger, faster, better. They have superpowers that humans will never have. Humans can't protect themselves. They can't think for themselves. They can't—"

"Hey, I never said that." God, this was getting way out of control. "I'm a shifter, Tom. I can only guess at how a human feels and I—"

"I imagine they feel the same way shifters do, Rogan. We have needs, wants, and desires just like shifters do, and we get angry, sad, and happy just like shifters do. We just don't turn furry."

"Shifters are influenced by their instincts. What we smell. What we hear. What we see. And we react with those instincts. I've already learned the hard way that my animal instincts don't work with you, so I'm floundering here. I don't know what to say or do."

"Just be honest with me."

"I want to get married."

"Oh." Tom's brown eyes turned to liquid chocolate. "You really want to get married?"

"I do," Rogan said honestly. "I don't care if the ceremony is human or shifter or a combination of both. I just want the world—both worlds—to know that you belong to me and I belong to you."

"I want to get married too."

Rogan walked across the room until he stood in front of Tom. He was afraid to touch him, afraid that he'd grab him and toss him to the floor and claim him as he really wanted to do. He just stood there staring down into his bright brown eyes.

"I don't want to get married to stop your father's shenanigans, Tom. I want to get married because that is something we both want. I want to get married because neither of us can stand the idea of living apart."

"Rogan."

"Shifters run on instincts, Tom, and my instincts are screaming at me to grab you and never let you go. I can't tell you that is love, because I honestly don't know if it is, but I do know I am falling fast for you and I can't wait to see where this goes."

Tom breathed in a quick, shallow breath. "I think I'm falling just as fast."

This time, Rogan couldn't prevent himself from grabbing Tom and pulling the man into his arms. "So, we're getting married then?"

A cold knot formed in his stomach as he waited for Tom's response.

The grin that crossed Tom's lips matched the one in his eyes. "Yes, we're getting married."

"Then don't you think we should tell Mannford to order the banns or whatever that is?"

Tom chuckled as he leaned up on his tiptoes. "Mannford can wait a few minutes. I can't."

Rogan groaned and tightened his hold on Tom when their lips met. With that simple touch, he forgot about talking to Mannford, his worry about his mate, and even the room full of people across the hall. He forgot everything except how good Tom felt in his arms and against his lips.

After several moments, Rogan had to pull away for air. He panted harshly as he stared down at Tom's red, swollen lips. "I think I just figured out what your super power is."

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"You can bring me to my knees with just one kiss," Rogan said.

"I don't see you on your knees."

Rogan instantly dropped to his knees.

Tom's eyebrow arched even higher. "You look pretty good down there, Lord Behr."

Rogan grinned at the growing bulge behind Tom's zipper. It was good to know the man wasn't immune to him. He reached for Tom's zipper. "I bet I can look even better."

Rogan licked his lips as he grabbed the base of Tom's cock. He massaged his fingers over the bulbous head, smoothing the pre-cum at the same time. His thumbnail pressed into the tiny slit at the top of the head, and he heard a low moan rumble in Tom's chest.

The man's arousal, along with the clear liquid seeping from his cock, filled Rogan's lungs, making his mouth water for just one taste. With a feral smile, Rogan swallowed Tom's straining erection, wrapping his lips around the flared head of the man's cock. The taste of pre-cum exploded on his tongue, and he knew he wanted more.

Rogan slowly pushed the cock to the back of his throat, further still, letting his throat muscles relax until pubic hairs tickled his face. He heard a swift intake of air and then Tom shuddered.

Encouraged by Tom's response, Rogan began to suck, his tongue tracing the veins, his cheeks hollowed as he moved Tom's thick erection further into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down.

Tom's fingers glided through Rogan's hair, massaging his scalp as Rogan sucked and licked, eating the man's pre-cum and swallowing it down. Using his tongue, Rogan laved the tender depression beneath the swollen crown and then tongue-fucked the tiny slit, licking away the salty taste of Tom's desires.

Hypnotized by Tom's touch, Rogan's skin tingled under Tom's fingertips.

Rogan pumped Tom's cock as he sucked the engorged head. His tongue swirled around the spongy head then licked at the bundle of nerves at the V just underneath, the other hand grabbing his mate's balls, gently massaging them with his fingers.

Another groan rumbled through Tom right before his hips thrust forward, driving his cock deep into Rogan's mouth, causing Rogan's body to scream with pleasure, with an overload of sensations that made Rogan whimper around the man's cock.

Tom's body was so hard, so hot against Rogan that it nearly scorched him. His mate's fingers tightened in Rogan's hair, his hips pumping faster. The pre-cum was leaking like a river, and Rogan knew the man was close. Tom's moans were becoming more frequent, and his body was trembling.

Rogan thrust his head down, taking Tom's cock as far as he could into his mouth. As his throat massaged Tom's length, Tom came hard, crying out Rogan's name. His hot seed spurted down Rogan's throat in ribbons of release. Rogan swallowed greedily, savoring the salty taste of the cream filling his mouth in great spurts.

The second he licked away the last of the cum on Tom's cock, Rogan yanked the man's pants down to his ankles. As he stood, he spun Tom around and shoved him down over the back of the couch.

He stroked one hand over Tom's smooth backside and fumbled with his own zipper with the other one. He pushed his pants down far enough to fish his cock out of pants then rubbed the head down the crease of Tom's ass.

He was so close, he wasn't even sure he was going to make it inside of the man before he blew. He rubbed up and down Tom's puckered entrance several times, making sure lots of his natural lube coated the tight ring of muscles.

The second he felt a little give, he pushed in. Rogan's eyes rolled back when the head of his cock popped in. He grabbed Tom's hips and thrust forward, burying himself in Tom's ass as far as he could go.

Tom squeezed his ass muscles, and it was over. Rogan didn't even have the chance to pull back and thrust back in again. He just erupted with a loud roar, his fingers digging into Tom's hips as he filled the man with the quickest release he'd ever had.

He should have been embarrassed at how quick it had been, but he felt too damn good. His mate had forgiven him—maybe—and he'd just fucked the man to within an inch of his life—sort of—and they were getting married.

Could life get any better?

"If there are any shifters in the reception hall," Tom said, "they're going to smell you all over me."

Rogan chuckled even as his bear grunted with satisfaction. "Oh, hell, yeah."

Chapter Fourteen

Tom slumped against the staircase railing as he watched Mannford close the door behind the last of the people who'd come to the memorial service. He'd always been under the impression that they were supposed to last for just a few hours, everyone dropped off casserole dishes, then went home.

This had been insane.

"Who sticks around a memorial service for seven hours?" Harry asked as he plopped down on one of the bottom steps of the grand staircase. "I thought you were going to have to get attack dogs to get them all out of here."

"I considered it," Tom replied.

"Nana would have laughed her ass off."

Tom glanced at Harry. "What makes you think she isn't?"

He was pretty sure she was.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this," Dick said as he sank down onto the stairs next to Harry, "but I am so glad you are Lord Harrington now and have servants. You couldn't pay me enough to clean up this mess."

Tom chuckled as he glanced around. There really wasn't that much of a mess, but cleaning up the leftovers from the buffet of finger foods and drinks was definitely more than a one-man job. Tom was kind of glad he didn't have to clean it up either.

"I think we should all grab a drink before they put them away and go relax in grandfather's study." Relaxing sounded really, really good. There was a knot of tension between Tom's shoulder blades that he just couldn't seem to shake.

"Are Rogan and Hawke going to join us?" Dick asked.

Tom frowned. "I don't know." After everything Rogan had said about staying close together, the man sure had disappeared quickly. "I haven't seen them in a little while, and I have no idea where they went."

Rogan had been there one moment and gone in the next, fading into the crowd of people who seemed to circle Tom like vultures. Tom was a little ashamed that he hadn't noticed the man's absence until now.

Tom pushed away from the railing and walked back into the reception hall. He spotted Mannford standing next the buffet table talking to one of the servants. "Mannford, a moment?"

Mannford glanced up, said something to the servant that sent them scurrying off, then walked across the room to stand in front of Tom. "Is there something I can assist you with, Lord Harrington?"

"Have you seen Lord Behr or Lord Hawke?" Tom asked.

"No, sir, but now that you mention it, I haven't seen them since before the memorial service ended."

Tom bit his bottom lip for a moment and glanced toward the front door. "You don't think they left, do you?"

"Without telling you first, sir?" Mannford sounded incredulous. "Lord Behr is your mate. I doubt he would leave without saying something, although I am confused as to why he is not here at your side. That is very unusual for a newly mated man of his nature."

That's what Tom was afraid of.

"I want the manor house and the grounds searched until they are found."

"Of course, sir. I'll arrange for a search party immediately."

Tom grabbed Mannford's arm before he could turn away. "Something is off about this, Mannford. Rogan just agreed to marry me. He wouldn't leave me like this unless there was a problem."

He had to believe that or he'd sink into a hole of despair.

"I understand, sir."

"I need to grab my cell phone, then Harry, Dick, and I will start searching upstairs."

"Very good, sir. I'll call you with any updates."

"Thank you, Mannford."

Tom left Mannford to organize a search party and walked back out into the hallway where Harry and Dick were. "I think something happened to Rogan and Hawke. Mannford is going to organize a search of the house and the grounds. I need to grab my cell phone out of the study, then we can start searching as well."

When Harry and Dick jumped up and walked over to where he stood, Tom started down the hallway toward the study. He still hadn't gotten used to it being his study and not his grandfather's, and he wasn't sure he ever would.

Hell, he was having trouble acclimating to the fact that all of this was his. Lady Sophia's will might not have been read yet, but he still knew it was his. His grandmother wouldn't lie to him about something like that.

He just wasn't sure he wanted it.

Maybe he could go live in Rogan's clan with him, assuming the guy still wanted to marry him. Tom didn't think that was the problem, though. Rogan had seemed too sincere, and Tom truly believed the man was telling him the truth when he said he wanted to get married.

It had to be something else.

A wave of apprehension swept through Tom as he opened the door to his study. He held his breath as he stepped into the doorway. His stomach churned with anxiety when he spotted the man sitting behind his desk.

"Father."

He quickly pushed Harry and Dick back, waving them off with his hand. He hoped they got the message and went for help, because they were going to need it.

Tanks would be nice.

"Come in and shut the door, Thomas. We need to talk."

"How did you get in here?" Tom asked without taking a single step inside the room. He wanted to be able to run if he needed to.

"I was invited."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "By who?"

"By me," Lady Erika Foxx said as she stepped into view. She walked over to sit on the arm of the chair Tom's father was sitting in. His grandfather's chair. Erika's arm curved around the back of the chair and John's shoulder, and she leaned close to him. "I think it's important for mates to be close. Don't you?"

Tom's jaw dropped.

He didn't know what to address first. The fact that Erika was claiming his father was her mate or that she obviously knew Rogan was his mate and could quite possibly know where the man was.

Tom's breath seemed to solidify in his throat. "My father is your mate?"

"Oh yes." Erika stroked her long red-tipped fingernails down the side of John's temple. "We've been mates for a very long time, but it was only recently that we were able to claim each other."

The overly sweet smile Erika sent him made Tom want to puke.

"And just think," she continued, "now, we can be one big, happy family."

Tom leveled a hard stare at his father. "You obviously haven't talked to Lady Foxx about our family dynamics."

John patted Erika's hand. "Erika is fully aware of the animosity your grandmother held for me."

Grandmother wasn't the only one.

"Now that your grandmother has passed on," John continued as if he hadn't just dropped a huge bomb in Tom's lap, "I know we can put that all behind us."

Tom's eyebrows lifted, but just a little. "And be one big, happy family?"

Not a chance in hell.

Thunder clouds formed in John's eyes. The tension between them increased with frightening intensity. "I don't know what your grandmother told you, but—"

"This has nothing to do with my grandmother. This has to do with you and the way you've treated me my entire life." Tom started to take a step inside the study, but the gleeful twinkle in Erika's eyes stopped him. "I had a mother. I don't need another one."

Erika's laugh could have shattered glass. "Oh, sweetie, I'm nobody's mother."

Thank god for that.

Tom shuddered just thinking about what this woman could do to a child. "Then what are you doing here?"

Erika smiled benignly, as if dealing with a temperamental child. "Now that Lady Sophia has passed and you've inherited Harrington Hall, your father and I felt it was only right that we be here to help you in this trying time. We are much more experienced in dealing with these matters than you are."

"I see." Tom crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "And just what matters are we discussing?"

"Darling." Erika stood and walked around the desk.

No, she sashayed around the desk.

Hell, Tom was surprised she didn't dance around it.

"You're young, Thomas," Erika continued. "You haven't even finished your degree yet." She glanced back at John. "What did you say he was going to school for?"

John pressed his fingertips together and frowned. "Thomas never discussed it with me, and his grandmother refused to say."

Thank god for small mercies. Tom didn't particularly want his father knowing anything about his life. Apparently, his grandmother had been of the same mind. No wonder he adored her so much.

"Well, never mind," Erika said. "That's not important."

"Just what is important?" Tom really wanted to know. Not because he cared, but because he was trying to figure out what Erika's game was.

Well, Erika and his father. They were both after something. He just didn't know if they were after the same thing. His father was after money and power. Tom hadn't quite figured out what Erika was after.

"Why are you here?"

"As Erika said," his father replied, "we're here to advise you and help you with your duties as you carry Harrington Hall and your legacy into the future."

"My duties," Tom said. He couldn't help but wonder just how much Erika had told his father about shifters and the time keeper legacy, especially since he mentioned the word 'legacy.' "And just what duties are you referring to?"

"The duties you were bloody born for, damn it!" John snapped as he leapt to his feet. "Do you honestly think I put up with your mother's drivel because I liked her? She was a sniveling, bubble-headed brat who went crying home to mommy and daddy the moment her feelings got the least bit bruised."

Tom's jaw clenched. He wanted to tear his father's head off for speaking of his mother like that. "I don't remember much about my mother, but I do remember that she was as beautiful as an angel, inside and out."

"Your mother was a bitch. She was always complaining to her parents, who hated me from the day I met them. They never gave me a chance, always harping on me to behave a certain way, to talk a certain way, to give your mother every little thing she desired. It was nauseating."

"Then you shouldn't have married her."

Kind of seemed like a no brainer to Tom.

John turned his head to glare at Erika. "Believe me, it wasn't my idea."

Erika huffed. "We've been over this, John. The only way to get a time keeper was to make one of our own. Since that old goat refused to have anything to do with me, his daughter was our only other option."

That was interesting and disgusting at the same time.

"So, let me see if I've got this right," Tom said. "You two knew you were mates years ago, long before I was even born, and you came up with some plan to have a time keeper child by marrying my mother because you needed to create said child with a Harrington, and she was the only one available. Am I correct so far?"

"You do have a cousin. twice removed. His name is Bixby Harrington," Erika said, "but he's gay and your father refused to take one for the team."

Tom snickered. "You don't know what you're missing."

All was not a bed of roses, it seemed, if the hate-filled glare John sent Erika was anything to go by. She seemed more intent on having access to a time keeper than Tom's father did. Oh, Tom was under no disillusions about his father, but he doubted the man had been behind that hare-brained scheme.

Tom crossed his arms and gave Erika his full attention. "I was under the impression that shifters had an overwhelming need to be close to their mates." He doubted Rogan had lied to him about that. The man had practically become obsessed since the moment they met. "How is it that you two waited decades to claim each other?"

"I am a fox shifter, my dear boy. We have much stronger wills."

Tom doubted it, but whatever.

"So, what's the plan here?" Tom asked. He really didn't care, but he needed to give Harry and Dick time to get help. At least, he hoped that's what they were doing. He didn't want to take his eyes off of Erika or his father long enough to look. "And how am I involved?"

Erika's eyes rolled. "We've been over this."

"No, actually, we haven't. You've hinted as to what you want, but you've never come right out and said it. I'd like to know exactly what you think you will gain by being here."

"You are the new lord of Harrington Hall," John began. "That comes with a lot of responsibility. I think it would be best if Erika and I move in to the manor to help you until you better understand what is required for such an important position."

"I've already informed the servants that Lady Sophia's room is to be packed up and aired out by the end of the week," Erika said. "As lady of the manor, that is the only appropriate room for me. It will need to be redecorated, of course. What's in there now is atrocious. I don't know how your grandmother put up with it."

Over my dead body.

Tom arched an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

John pulled a sheet of paper out of his breast pocket. He shook it open, glanced down at for a moment, then grabbed a pen off the desk. "You need to sign this, son."

"What is it?"

"It's a power of attorney allowing me to act in your stead while you're at the university. I think you need to concentrate on finishing your degree before delving into the business aspects of being Lord Harrington. Once you graduate, I'm sure I can teach you all the ins and outs of running such a large business."

"Large business?"

Was that what they were calling it?

"The Harrington legacy needs to be run like a business in order for it to be profitable," John said. "Your grandmother spent too much time catering to people who didn't matter. She never understood that you need to make connections with people in important positions. The way she did things was no way to make money."

That wasn't what Tom had been taught in his business courses at the university, but he wasn't about to argue with his father about that. He also wasn't going to sign that piece of paper. No way, no how.

Erika perched on the edge of the desk and crossed her arms. The movement pushed up her amble breasts, which—much to Tom's disgust—caught his father's attention and had him practically drooling.

"After this mess with Lady Sophia's death has settled, we'll open the veil and I can connect with my fox skulk there again. With the contacts we can make here through Thomas and the exotic items found in Camelot, the possibilities are endless."

Tom snorted out a laugh. "I'm a tool." He just suddenly got it. The entire reason for his existence. "I'm a fucking tool. You married my mother and got her knocked up just to create me so you could use me to make yourself rich. You sick bastards."

John's head snapped in his direction. "Thomas—"

Outrage flushed Erika's face. She climbed to her feet and fisted her hands. "I will not be spoken to like this!"

Tom glared. "Bite me, bitch."

Chapter Fifteen

Tom never expected Erika to take him at his word. When she shifted and lunged at him, he threw up his hand just like he had when Rogan had attacked him. He never actually expected it to work, so he was shocked as shit when it did.

"What did you do?" his father shouted as he ran to Erika. He grabbed her and gave her a little shake. "Erika! Erika!"

She didn't move.

She blinked.

Anger was alive and livid in the reddening of John's face and the snarl on his lips when he turned to glare at him. "What did you do?"

"I guess your mate forgot to tell you about that part. Now"—Tom shifted his hand, pointing it at his father—"tell me where Rogan and Hawke are or I'll do the same to you."

He had no idea if it would work on humans or not, but his father didn't know that.

John drew himself up to his full height and tried to give Tom a haughty look, but failed miserably when he started to tremble. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't believe you." Tom basically didn't believe a word that came out of his father's mouth. "Now, tell me where they are."

When his father's eyes narrowed, Tom started to brace himself for all the hateful words he would hear, then realized he didn't have to listen to them. His father didn't own him, and Tom certainly didn't owe him anything. Nothing said he had to stand there and take it.

"The only thing I want to hear come out of your mouth is where Rogan and Hawke are," Tom said. "Nothing else."

"Why do you even care?" John shouted. "They are nothing. No one. Once the veil is open, they will be removed from the council and no one will care about them."

"Rogan is my mate and I want him back."

"Your mate?" The rage on John's face turned dark purple. "Are you insane? You can't mate with him."

Tom cocked his head curiously. "Why not?"

"You're a time keeper. A Harrington. You have to continue your line."

Tom thought Erika had told his father everything about shifters, but apparently the whole male pregnancy thing hadn't sunk in.

"Says who?"

"It's been that way for hundreds of years," John said. "If you don't continue your line, we'll lose our chance at the veil."

Tom squinted. "How?" He was under the impression that he was the key to the veil, not his future offspring. At least not until they reached the age of twenty-five and became old enough to be a time keeper. That was a long time away.

"If the Harrington line dies, our access to the veil dies. Don't you understand that?"

"In what? Twenty-five years from now? Twenty-six?" Tom asked. "Why do you care? You'll most likely be dead by then." And maybe in the next ten minutes if he didn't tell Tom where Rogan was.

"Shifters can live for decades," John said. "Centuries even. If you mate with one, your lifespan is just as long."

Okay, that surprised Tom, but still… "Then why wouldn't you want me to mate with Rogan if we can live forever?"

"Because you can't produce the next time keeper if you're mated to Lord Behr. He's gay."

"So am I."

"That doesn't matter," John insisted. "If we find you a woman from the right family, you can—"

"I can what?" Tom snapped as he took a step forward. "Get her knocked up with the next Harrington heir? And how is that going to work if I'm gay, Dad?"

"Look, you only have to fuck her until you get her pregnant and then you can do whatever you want, but we need that kid."

"I. Am. Gay. What part of that don't you get?"

"We're talking about one woman here," John reasoned. "How hard can it be?"

"It won't be hard at all," Tom replied. "And I do mean that. I don't care how beautiful the woman you put in front of me is. I won't get hard. I'm gay. I only get hard for men."

Or more specifically, one man.

"So, all your little dreams of having control of the next time keeper are just that. Dreams."

John started to pace. "Okay, we can work around that. We'll just need to find someone of good breeding to act as a surrogate for you. I'm sure with the right incentive, we can—"

Tom shook his head. It was obvious his father wasn't hearing a word he said, but there was nothing new about that. His father never listened to him, but maybe this time he wouldn't have a choice.

Tom held his breath as he waved his hand at his father, hoping that neat little trick worked on humans just as easily as it worked on shifters. He almost jumped up and let out a loud "whoop" when his father froze in mid sentence.

It worked.

He walked over and stood in front of his father. "There is no we, Father. There will never be a we. I want no part of anything you and Erika have cooked up. I want no part of anything that has to do with either of you."

Tom didn't think he could be much plainer than that.

He grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked it to one side, showing off his mating bite. He couldn't believe how happy he was that Rogan had bitten him. "I am mated to Rogan. There will be no other for me except him. If we decide to have a child, that will be our business, not yours, and it will have nothing to do with creating the next time keeper, but because we want a child."

He was so sickened with his father, he could barely look at him. "All of scheming, all of your tricks, and where has it gotten you? I will never agree to anything you have planned." Tom glanced at Erika. His lip curled back in disgust. "I will never help you cross the veil. I'd rather die here and now and end the Harrington legacy forever."

Tom laughed at the spiteful glare that came to Erika's eyes. "Guess you don't have a problem with that, do you?" This woman hated him with everything in her. The feeling was kind of mutual.

"So, here's what we're going to do," Tom said. "I'm going to unfreeze you, and you're going to tell me where my mate is. If you don't, if you try anything, I will freeze you again and leave you like that for the rest of your very long lives."

Tom smiled brightly, pretty sure his point had been made. "Blink once if you understand."

John blinked.

Erika did not.

"Well, I guess one of you is getting out of here today." Tom waved his hand and allowed his father to go free then crossed his arms. "Now, where's my mate?"

John shot Erika a quick glance before looking back at Tom. "Erika had the guards from the front gate lock them in the pantry. They're on her payroll just like the cook is."

Tom heard a low hiss come from Erika. When he turned to look at her, she was still frozen in place, but her eyes promised retribution, and she was looking at his father. Mated or not, he was pretty sure their relationship wasn't going to last too much longer.

It was really too bad. They deserved each other.

"The cook?" Tom narrowed his eyes. "What about the cook?"

When his father didn't answer, Tom raised his hand.

"No, no!" John took a quick step back. "I'll tell you."

Tom slowly lowered his hand. "Tell me about the cook."

"He works for Erika. He's a fox shifter just like she is, a member of her skulk. She arranged for him to get a job here to keep an eye on the Harringtons."

John shot his mate a scathing glare. "When her plans to seduce Lord Harrington fell through, she had the cook poison him to pave the way for you to become the time keeper."

Tom gasped as pain lanced through his chest. "She killed my grandfather?"

John held up his hands. "I had nothing to do with it."

"You lying sack of shit," Tom snapped. "You've been trying to get access to the Harrington money since long before I was born. I wouldn't put it past you to kill my grandfather and my grandmother." Tom narrowed his eyes. "There will be an investigation, and if you're found guilty, I hope you fry."

He waved his hand and froze his father in place again. He didn't want the man running off before he was punished for the things he'd done. Tom didn't know what the rules were for shifters, but he was pretty sure they were similar to humans.

Kidnapping was probably frowned upon.

Tom walked to the door and looked down the hallway. It was empty. He hoped that meant Dick and Harry were getting help and not that the guards had taken them hostage as well. He really didn't relish doing this on his own, but he would if he had to.

He also didn't know where Mannford was, and that worried him. The man always seemed to know when Tom needed him. He couldn't help but wonder if that was all of his years of training or if that was an innate ability he had due to him being a gargoyle.

Tom slowed when he neared the entrance to the kitchen. He wasn't exactly positive where the pantry was located, but it would make sense if it was close to the kitchen. He knew his was, even if it was the size of a closet.

He also hadn't seen Dick or Harry since they'd hurried off to get help.

Tom paused outside the swinging door that led into the kitchen and leaned back against the wall, taking a couple of deep breaths. The need to run was riding him hard, but the need to find Rogan was riding him harder.

It made no sense that the man had become this important to him after just a few days. They were at the barely dating stage at this point, and yet Tom couldn't see a future without him. He didn't want to see a future without him. At some point in this whole mess, Rogan Behr had become vital to his existence.

Tom wasn't sure how he felt about that.

When the door to the kitchen started to swing open, Tom knew he didn't have time to ponder that thought now. He held his breath as he watched one of the security guards walk out of the kitchen. He had no idea if this was one of the guards from the gatehouse or not.

He didn't care.

As soon as the door swung closed and the man took a few steps down the hallway, Tom waved his hand and froze him in place. He hurried over and carefully took the man's weapons. He also grabbed a zip tie out of the guy's pocket and used it to restrain his wrists behind his back.

Once the man was secured and unarmed, Tom stood in front of him. "If you make a single sound, I will leave you like this. Blink twice if you understand."

The guard blinked twice.

Tom waved his hand and unfroze the guard. "How many people are in the kitchen?"

The guard just stared at him.

Tom raised his hand in the air. "Talk."

"You told me not to make a sound."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Listen, asshole, I'm Lord Harrington. I sign your paychecks. If you want to continue to work here, answer my questions."

"You're not Lord Harrington," the guard scoffed at Tom. "He's much older than you."

Tom's eyes narrowed. "Let me guess. He's about my height, but slightly thicker. Mustache with graying hair. Fancy suit. Hangs around a flirty lady named Lady Foxx?"

The guard gave a short, but confused nod. "That's him."

"Yeah, that's my father and he is not Lord Harrington. He's not even a Harrington. His last name is Butler, and he's not even supposed to be on the estate. He's been barred from the estate because he's a backstabbing, conniving bastard."

The guard's eyebrows snapped together as he frowned. "But he was with Lady Foxx."

"Who is also a backstabbing conniving bas—bitch. So, let me put this into terms you will understand. They conned you. I am Lord Harrington, and if I could find Mannford, he would confirm that."

"Oh, he's in the kitchen with the cook."

Tom wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, especially considering Erika had the cook on her payroll. Tom wanted to gut the man for poisoning his grandfather, but at least he now knew who'd killed him.

Tom grabbed the guard by his arm and led him down the hallway to the coat closet. He opened the door and shoved the man inside. "You wait here until I come for you. If you leave this closet before then, I'm going to assume you're in on this plot to kidnap my fiancé and take over my estate. Understood?"

The guard nodded. "I won't go anywhere."

Tom shut the door and headed back down the hallway. He needed a plan.

He didn't have one.

Damn.

Not knowing what else to do, Tom pushed the door open and stepped into the kitchen. "Mannford, there you are," he said the second he spotted the man. He tried to sound stern. "I've been calling for you. Where have you been?"

"My apologies, sir." Mannford shot the cook and another servant a quick look. "I was discussing the new week's meal plan with the cook."

Yeah, right.

"I need coffee and refreshments brought to my study right away."

"Of course, sir. I'll see to it personally."

Tom made a show of narrowing his eyes. "You'll see to it right now."

Mannford nodded. "Of course, sir."

Tom turned and stormed out of the kitchen. As soon as the door stopped swinging, he plastered himself against the wall behind it. He could hear angry voices from inside, but he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. He didn't think it was the weekly menu.

When the door started to open a few minutes later, Tom felt as if a hand had closed around his throat. He said a quick prayer of thanks to Rogan's gods when Mannford stepped out and started walking down the hallway, carrying a silver serving tray.

Tom walked up behind the man. When he reached the bathroom door, Tom grabbed Mannford's arm and pulled him into the small room, shutting and locking the door behind him. "Mannford."

Mannford immediately set the tray down on the bathroom counter then laid his hand on Tom's arm as he checked him out from head to toe. "You are unhurt, sir?"

"I'm fine," Tom replied. "What about you?"

"Angry, sir."

Tom could understand that.

"Have you seen Rogan and Hawke?" Tom asked. "Or Harry and Dick? I sent them to find someone to help us."

"I'm afraid we may be on our own, sir."

Tom grimaced.

"Lord Behr and Lord Hawke have been locked in the pantry with Lord Wolfe and Lord Lyon," Mannford continued. "I have not seen Master Harry or Master Dick."

Damn.

"The cook is in on whatever this is. My father told me that Lady Foxx paid the cook to poison Grandfather and that the guards at the gate were also on her payroll."

Mannford's eyes narrowed and since the first time he'd ever seen, anger flared to life in the man's dark eyes. "The Harrington family is off limits to all shifters and any who know about them. An attack on a Harrington is a death sentence."

Wow.

"I'm pretty sure Lady Foxx and my father didn't see this as an attack, but more of a change in management. My father tried to get me to sign a power of attorney, giving him access to pretty much everything. They even arranged for Nana's room to be packed up so Lady Foxx could move in there."

Mannford's jaw clenched. "Over my dead body."

Tom grinned. "I was kind of thinking over their dead bodies."

He didn't actually want to kill anyone, but he sure wanted to see them punished. Lady Foxx and his father had apparently been fucking with his life before he even took his first breath. It was time for that to stop.

"I have Lady Foxx and my father—who is her mate, by the way—contained in grandfather's study. There's also a guard restrained in the coat closet. Who does that leave us with? Do you know?"

"There were two guards manning the front gate, so I suspect that leaves us with one guard and the cook moving about the manor freely. I do not know who else might be involved in this."

"Then I think it's time for you and I to clean house, don't you?"

A small, mischievous smile crossed Mannford's lips. "Oh, yes, sir."

Tom swallowed hard and tried to dredge up an ounce of the courage he wasn't feeling, then reached for the door handle. "Okay, let's do this."

And pray they didn't die in the process.

Chapter Sixteen

Rogan growled as he struggled against the ropes restraining his arms behind his back. If he ever got his hands on the assholes who knocked him out then tied him up, he was going to take several strips out of their hides.

His head ached and his wrists were getting sore from him straining against the nylon ropes. The faint coppery scent in the air only spurred on his anger.

To add to his frustration, he had no idea what was going on with his mate. If the human world wanted to stay a safe place, he'd better be unharmed. If there was a single hair out of place, a hell would be released on the world that hadn't been seen since the Inquisition.

Rogan glanced down at the man lying on the floor beside him when he heard a groan. When he'd woken up, he'd been surprised to find Hawke next to him. Lyon and Wolfe were propped up against the opposite wall.

None of them were awake.

When Hawke didn't move or make another sound, Rogan went back to trying to get out of his restraints. He'd be damned if he stayed tied up in the pantry while Tom was out there all on his own, unprotected and at the mercy of whoever was behind this mess.

Rogan winced when the rope rubbed up a raw spot on his wrist. He knew if he kept at this, he'd have more than one. He didn't care. They could cut off his wrists if that's what it took to get free so he could go find his mate.

His mate.

He never thought he'd find Tom. He especially didn't think he'd find a man who completed him so much. Tom was stubborn as hell, but that was part of his charm. Well, except when he wasn't listening when Rogan wanted to protect the man. Then it simply drove him crazy.

Rogan knew about mates, of course, but until he actually met Tom, he hadn't understood how much having one would actually mean to him. He'd give up his life for Tom and go to his grave with a smile on his face if it meant the man was safe.

It galled him to no end that Tom was so strong willed and opinionated. It also made him prouder than hell. Tom didn't take crap from anyone, not even him. He was going to make a great lord of the manor.

Rogan was still iffy on the whole time keeper thing.

"Yes!" Rogan shouted when the rope around his wrists snapped, freeing him. He quickly snapped his lips together and made sure his hands were still behind him as he watched the door cautiously. He had no idea who might have overheard him.

When no one opened the door, Rogan dropped the rope and moved over to Hawke. He rolled the man onto his side then flicked his claw through the rope before scooting across the floor to Lyon and Wolfe.

Considering Lady Foxx was the only member of the council not currently present, he couldn't help but wonder if she was behind all this. Granted, she had been barred from the estate, but that didn't mean anything to the power-hungry woman. Rogan doubted she had ever seen a line she didn't cross.

And people wondered why he preferred men.

Rogan freed Lyon and Wolfe then tried to revive them. They had good strong pulses, but they were not waking up. Hawke, on the other hand, seemed to be coming to. Rogan hurried back over and helped the man sit up.

"You okay, man?" he whispered.

Hawke frowned at him. "Huh?"

"Someone knocked us out, tied us up, and tossed us in the pantry."

Awareness seemed to slam into Hawke. His head snapped back and his eyes rounded. "Dick!"

"Excuse me?"

"Where's Dick?" Hawke asked as he struggled to stand.

Rogan helped him up then shook his head. "Sorry, I haven't seen him."

A desperate glint came to his eyes as if he was holding his raw emotions in check. "I have to find him."

There was a story there, but Rogan didn't have time to delve into it. He wanted to find Tom just as much as Hawke wanted to find Dick.

Rogan turned when he heard footsteps outside the pantry door. He held his finger up to his lips as a tense silence enveloped the small room. Icy fear twisted around his heart when he heard a scuffle and someone grunted as if in pain.

He stepped closer to the door, tilting his head to one side to hear better. Someone was definitely fighting just on the other side of the door, but he had no clue as to who it was. No one was saying anything. They were just grunting or crying out in pain.

Rogan reached for the door handle, but before he could open the door himself, it swung open. He jumped back and took a fighter's stance, ready to rip into whoever it was. His thoughts scrambled to catch up with what he was seeing.

"Tom?"

"Hey." The guy grinned at him. "You guys having fun or you maybe want to come out of there?"

Rogan growled as he leapt forward and grabbed his mate, wrapping Tom up in his arms. He buried his face in Tom's hair and just breathed him in. His rapid heartbeat slowly began to level off.

"Are you okay?" Rogan cupped Tom's face between his hands then leaned back to look him over. "Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Tom replied.

"I heard a fight." Rogan winced when he looked beyond Tom and saw the disaster in the kitchen. It'd take a week to clean the place, and maybe a few handymen to repair it. "Who was fighting?"

He prayed it wasn't Tom.

"The cook and I had a little disagreement about my dinner plans. I wanted to have dinner with you, and he wanted to keep you locked up in the pantry." Tom's smile grew into a wide grin. "I won."

Rogan leaned around Tom then winced when he saw the bloody and bruised man lying at Mannford's feet. "So, I'm guess we're eating out?"

"Well, I sure as hell ain't eating anything he prepared. He poisoned my grandfather."

Rogan's eyebrows rose as he glanced down at his mate. "The cook killed your grandfather?"

"Yes, but he was paid by Lady Foxx and my father to do it, so I don't hold him fully to blame."

"Oh, so does that mean he'll do just a little jail time?"

"If he lives that long."

Rogan chuckled. His mate was bloodthirsty.

He liked it.

"I don't know all the rules of shifter society, but Mannford tells me it's against the rules for anyone to attack a Harrington. I guess we're kind of off limits."

"He's right. Attacking any Harrington is a death sentence."

"And who decides if someone is guilty?"

"The council."

"And if it's one of the council members who commits the crime?" Tom asked. "Who then?"

Rogan frowned. "I don't know. It's never happened before."

"Well, we need to find it out because I don't know if I can keep Erika and my father frozen forever."

Rogan's eyebrows lifted again. "You have them frozen?"

Tom nodded. "In my study."

"We need to call the guards to come get them."

"We can't," Tom replied. "The guards are in on it. Well, at least the guards down at the gate are. I don't know about anyone else."

"Okay, let me think." Rogan kept one arm wrapped firmly around Tom's waist, keeping the man plastered to his side. He used the other one to reach up and rub the tense muscles at the back of his neck. "Okay, if we each call in five of our soldiers, we should have enough to patrol the grounds and keep everyone safe."

"It might help if they were awake to agree to that plan."

Rogan turned to look at the two unconscious council members on the floor, but before he could say anything, Hawke was there.

"Have you seen Dick?" Hawke asked.

Tom shook his head. "Dick and Harry went for help when we found my father and Lady Foxx in my study. I haven't seen him or Harry since."

Rogan quickly pulled Tom out of the way when Hawke started pushing past them. The man quickly surveyed the destroyed kitchen then went running for the swinging door.

Rogan sighed. He still didn't know what was up with Hawke and Dick, but he wasn't going to find out standing there. "I'd better go help him before he hurts someone."

"You go help Lord Hawke," Tom said. "I need to stay here and—"

Rogan jumped when he heard a loud roar. The sound was so enraged, it sent shivers of dread down his spine. He took off running. He could hear Tom running behind him. When he reached the front door, he stumbled to a stop.

Harry and Dick were slowly walking up the front steps. Both men looked as if they had had the crap beat out of them, although Dick looked a little worse than Harry. They were bloody and bruised, their clothes ripped in several places. Dick was clutching his torn shirt to his chest.

Rogan growled when he saw the fingerprint bruises around the man's throat. "What happened? Where's Hawke?"

He was positive that roar came from the shifter.

"He left," Dick whispered in a choked voice. "He just left."

"What?"

"He killed the guards holding us," Harry explained, "and then he shifted and flew off."

That didn't sound right.

"Oh my god." Tom hurried down the steps to his friends. "We need to get you to a hospital."

"No!" Dick drew back, pulling away from Harry and Tom. "I just want to go to my room."

"Okay, Dick." Rogan became increasingly uneasy the longer he stared at Dick. It was obvious from the way the man hugged his arms around his waist that he was trying desperately to hold himself together. Something alarming had happened to Dick, and the man was not ready to talk about it.

"Let's get you upstairs," Tom said as he reached for Dick. When the man flinched, Tom slowly lowered his hands. "How about a hot shower and then some of Nana's tea?"

Dick nodded then started up the steps. He moved slow, as if each step took effort. Rogan stood watching him and Tom walk into the house until they disappeared up the grand staircase then turned to look at Harry.

"What happened?"

"After we found Lady Foxx and Tom's father in the study, Dick and I ran for help. We just happened to pick the wrong guys to help us. Instead of going to Tom's aid, the guards grabbed us and took us down to the gatehouse.

"They took us to separate rooms and started beating us." Harry swallowed tightly as he gazed into the house through the open doorway. "I think they did more than that to Dick, but he refused to talk about it when I asked him."

Rogan's heart sank. "He'll talk about it when he's ready." Or never. If what Rogan suspected did indeed happen, Dick might never be ready to talk about it. "Just let him be for now."

"You don't think…"

Rogan nodded. "I do think."

Harry's eyes flooded with tears. "Oh, man, poor Dick."

"Come on, let's get you inside."

Harry nodded and started up the steps.

"Do you need to see a doctor?"

"No, but a shower and a stiff drink wouldn't hurt."

Rogan chuckled. "You work on the shower. I'll arrange for the drink."

Harry grinned. "I knew I liked you."

Yeah, I'm a great guy. I just can't keep anyone safe.

Rogan felt like punching a wall.

"If you see Tom, tell him I'm making sure everyone who needs to be is locked up, then I have some phone calls to make." If he couldn't keep his mate and those at Harrington Hall safe on his own, he knew who to call to help him.

Rogan waited at the bottom of the stairs and watched until Harry made it to the top. The man had been beaten up. He needed to make sure he made it upstairs without falling back down the stairs. It was the least he could do.

Once Harry disappeared down the hallway, Rogan headed for the kitchen. He'd need help from Lyon and Wolfe if he was going to pull this off. Foxx was out because she was that one who'd started this all, and Rogan had no idea what was going on with Hawke.

"Oh, Mannford, good. I need you to figure out what guards we can trust and have them clean up the mess at the front gate and make sure everyone who needs to be is locked up. And Harry needs something stiff to drink."

"Of course, sir."

"Have Lyon and Wolfe woken up yet?"

"Yes, sir. They are in the kitchen having tea."

"Great. Then that's where I'll be. We need to arrange for some more guards and I think I know just the way to do it."

Mannford's eyebrow arched. "If I may be so bold, sir, how could you arrange this?"

"I figured since the council needs the time keeper so much, we have a duty to see that he's kept safe. If we each provide five of our soldiers, we should have more than enough people to keep the entire place, and all who live here, safe."

Mannford nodded. "That sounds like a good plan, sir."

"I just need to get the others to agree to it."

"After what they have been through, I do not believe it will be an issue."

That's what Rogan was hoping.

Chapter Seventeen

Tom silently closed the door behind him then leaned back against it, closing his eyes. It had been a week since they'd been attacked, and Dick was still refusing to talk to anyone. He hadn't said a single word since.

He'd cried.

Tom had heard the heart-wrenching sobs coming from Dick's room on several different occasions, but each time he tried to comfort his friend or get him to talk, Dick simply shut down. Tom was really worried about him.

But that wasn't his only worry.

Tom opened his eyes and pushed away from Dick's door. He felt as if the weight of the world—two worlds—rested on his shoulders. There was so much still left to do, and it felt as if there was very little time to do it.

Rogan had been able to convince the other council members to all donate the services of their soldiers, so the estate was now secure. It had been decided that five soldiers from every different shifter group would help keep the estate protected.

And after questioning the other employees of the estate, they were pretty sure they had caught all the people involved with Lady Foxx and his father's scheme. Those caught were locked up and waiting for their trial and judgment under constant guard.

The one thing everyone seemed to be waiting on was him.

Tom still had no idea how to be the time keeper or even what that meant. Yes, he'd listened to the explanations of all those around him, but no one had actually told him exactly what he was supposed to do. It was like they thought he'd magically know.

He didn't.

That was one part of his education in being Lord Harrington that was sadly lacking. He'd learned how to take care of vast finances, how to organize lavish social engagements, the etiquette of meeting people from different backgrounds, locations, and financial positions, and even what fork to use. He'd never been taught about being the time keeper, and frankly, he was lost.

"Has he said anything?"

Tom glanced down the hallway to see Rogan walking toward him. He shook his head. "No, he just sits there and stares out the window."

Rogan stopped in front of him and drew him into his arms. "I'm sorry, love. I wish I knew what to say to make it better."

"I know. I just…" Tom shook his head, unable to put to words the heartache he was feeling for his friend. "I wish there was something I could do."

"You just have to give him some time. He'll talk when he's ready."

Logically, Tom knew that. His heart still ached for his friend. No one should have to go what they all suspected Dick had gone through. The man hadn't come out and said anything had happened beyond getting beat up, and he refused to show anyone his injuries, so they were all just guessing at this point.

"So, I have a theory about what happened to your grandfather's papers," Rogan said as he started to lead Tom down the hallway. "Want to hear it?"

"Okay." Even after searching Lady Foxx's residence as well as the hotel where his father had been staying, there had been no sign of the papers. No one seemed to know anything about them.

"Do you have your grandfather's watch with you?"

"Of course." Tom never went anywhere without it.

Rogan grinned as he grabbed Tom's hand. "Come with me."

Tom's curiosity rose swiftly as Rogan led him down the hallway to his grandmother's room. Despite Lady Foxx's wishes, the room had remained untouched, and it would continue to remain untouched until Tom was ready to let it go.

He wasn't there yet.

"What are we doing here?"

"I got to thinking," Rogan said. "Your grandmother was really against you being told anything about being a time keeper while you were growing up. After watching her husband die, I can't really say I blame her, but if she feared the same would happen to you, what wouldn't she do to protect you?"

Tom squinted at Rogan. "You think my grandmother hid Grandfather's papers?"

"I do." Rogan nodded his head toward Lady Sophia's bedroom door. "And I think she hid them in there."

Tom couldn't say Rogan was wrong, but he couldn't say he was right either. He reached over and opened the door. He had to take a deep breath before stepping inside the large room. It hurt to be in here knowing that he'd never have tea in here with his beloved grandmother or listen to her tell him stories of the 'good old days.'

"Where should we start looking?"

"Get out your watch."

Tom frowned, but did as Rogan said. "Now what?"

Rogan walked over to the wall. Tom's jaw dropped when he grabbed a light sconce and turned it, and a small square part of the wall lifted. "How did you find that?"

"Purely by accident. After figuring out that your grandmother was the most likely person to have taken the papers, I came up here to search for them. I didn't want to come to you with my theory without proof. I didn't find anything and I was getting quite frustrated. I stumbled as I was walking across the room and grabbed the sconce to stop my fall. That's when it moved and I found this."

Rogan pointed to the small opening. "That looks like the face of your watch."

It did. It had the same gear shapes, circle in the middle, and even the shape of the golden wings. It looked exactly like the face of the watch and the scar that had formed on the palm of Tom's hand.

"She told me this was the key to the world when she gave it to me," Tom said. "Do you think she meant it in the literal sense?"

Rogan gestured to the opening again. "There's only one way to find out."

Tom's hand trembled as he lifted the watch and placed it against the design in the wall.

Nothing happened.

Tom moved the watch around a bit, thinking it might have been slightly out of alignment or something.

Still nothing.

He lifted the watch away then started to feel around the wooden engraving. Tom hissed and jerked his hand back when it started to heat up.

"What?" Rogan grabbed his wrist and glanced down at his palm. The redness Tom had first had when the scar appeared had faded to a pinkish scar days ago. Now, it was practically pulsing red. "What happened?"

"It got hot."

"Hot?"

"Yes, my hand started to get hot as soon as I touched the engraving." Tom started to smile when he looked up at Rogan, who was smiling back at him. "You don't think…?"

Rogan shrugged. "Weirder things have happened."

That was true.

Tom held his breath as he reached over and placed his scarred palm against the engraving. At first, nothing happened. Then, his hand started to heat up and a blue glow appeared under his palm. The glow radiated out then split in four, two lines going up and two lines going down, until it formed an open doorway.

"Holy crap!" Tom blinked rapidly as he looked through the opening into the land beyond. It was lush with grass and trees and flowers of every color under the sun. Tall snow-capped mountains sat off in the distance, a backdrop to the large stone castle at its base. People were moving about, coming and going from a town farther down the mountain. "Is that…?"

Rogan chuckled. "Welcome to Camelot, Time Keeper."

THE END

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