Wolf’s Mate: Nine Month Mission

A Shifter Rogues Novella

Celia Kyle

Contents

Wolf’s Mate: Nine Month Misson

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

About the Author

Wolf’s Mate: Nine Month Misson

Werewolf Declan Reed’s mate is lying to him. Not outright, but a lie by omission is enough to tweak his tail and anger his wolf.  Abby is pregnant and she still hasn’t told him about the baby. He’s given her time, but the moment he gets her alone, he’s going to demand answers.  

The trick is finding her alone because his mate has been adopted as an honorary sister to the rest of Declan’s Shifter Operations Command—SHOC—team.  That means that when they’re not on a mission, he’s got at least one team member—sometimes more—at his home.

Thankfully, Declan is a highly trained SHOC agent. If he has to kidnap his own mate to get some privacy, he’ll do what needs to be done.

One

Declan closed his eyes and took a deep breath while he fought to ignore the chaos around him. He pretended his living room wasn’t crowded with Shifter Operations Command team watching the Sunday football game and that his kitchen wasn’t overrun by a hungry werewolf—their tech agent, Grant—with a bottomless pit for a stomach, either.

Of course, the assholes were hard to ignore when the home team made a touchdown and they roared to celebrate the score. Their bellows—a lion’s roar, bear’s snarl, tiger’s hiss, and wolf’s howl—shook the walls, making the newly hung pictures tremble on their nails.

If one of those assholes knocked a frame from the wall… Declan’s inner wolf growled and curled its lip in a threatening snarl. He’d spent too many damn hours with Abby—his mate—hanging them only to have his SHOC team ruin their hard work. Really, he didn’t give two fucks about the pictures themselves. He did give a million fucks about listening to his mate directing him ‘a little to the left, no the right, your other left, a little more…’ for hours to get the positioning just right.

While most of the group quieted, Cole changed his tiger’s hiss to a feline roar, which made the frames shake once again. Hell, the man even pumped his fist in the air and gestured at the screen with his other hand. The hand that happened to clutch an opened can of beer. A can that lost some of its contents and sloshed onto Declan’s new coffee table.

Declan glanced at his own unopened beer on the nearby end table, condensation clinging to the aluminum can. For shifters, drinking alcohol was a pointless exercise—a bottle of vodka might give him a buzz—but beer and pizza were part of Sunday football. He wasn’t a big fan of beer. Hence the unopened can.

He was a fan of assholes not spilling their shit on his new furnishings. Everything in the house was brand new—even the house was new. One of the six homes built for their team at SHOC’s North Carolina base.

Yeah, they each had their own houses now, but somehow every-damn-one of the guys always ended up at his and Abby’s place.

He reached over and wrapped his fingers around the cool beer can, eyes on the game while he tracked Cole in his peripheral vision. If that dick spilled one more drop…

The football team got the field goal, sending the guys into another round of roars, and it was all the distraction Declan needed. He snatched the can, twisted in his seat, and flung the beer across the living room. Sprinklings of condensation rained down from the container while it flew. It passed right by Ethan, Birch, and Declan’s brother Pike before it slammed into the side of Cole’s head.

“Motherfucker!” Cole’s skin rippled, orange and black stripes flowing over his tanned flesh before disappearing. He grabbed the side of his head and spun toward Declan, fierce glare in place. “What the hell?”

“Good throw, man.” Pike didn’t pull his attention from the TV as he lifted his hand, and Declan gave his brother a high-five.

“Seriously?” Cole snarled.

Ethan—the lone lion shifter on their SHOC team—snorted and shook his head. “You got beer on the coffee table. You know how Abby is ever since, you know what. She is not a pretty crier.”

You know what. Declan mentally groaned at Ethan’s words.

Pro: Ethan’s mention of you know what would redirect the conversation from Declan’s assault on Cole.

Con: the mention of you know what would turn their conversation to you know what.

And by you know what, they weren’t talking about their SHOC mission when Declan and Abby met. If only…

Declan would gladly talk about Abby throwing a five-pound desk calculator at an attacker. Or the way she leapt off an ocean pier to escape him. He wouldn’t mind discussing her piss poor aim with a handgun when her only job had been to cover Declan’s ass. He hadn’t been a fan of her getting shot, but she was cute when she had babbled in shock. In all honesty, he’d rather talk about her being kidnapped from right underneath his nose than diving into you know what.

“Has Abby told you yet?” Grant tromped into the living room, one hand clutching a thick sandwich while he held a plate with chips and potato salad in the other.

Declan opened his mouth to say… something, but Birch interrupted him.

“That better not be the last of Abby’s potato salad.” Birch—bear shifter and their team alpha—growled.

“Of course not,” Grant snorted. “I told you I’d save you some.”

Birch narrowed his eyes. “Define ‘some.’”

“Uh…” Grant shoved his sandwich in his mouth.

“She hasn’t told him yet.” Pike—his traitorous asshole brother—drawled.

“Doesn’t she realize we can all smell…?” Ethan tapped the side of his nose, the lion’s eyes on Declan.

Declan just shook his head and sighed. “Cougars are solitary. She probably hasn’t been around other felines when they’re— “

“Up the duff.” Ethan interrupted.

“Harboring a fugitive.” That came from Pike.

“You’d know about being a fugitive, asshole.” Declan snarled at his brother and wished he had something to throw at the other werewolf.

“Eating for two.” Grant mumbled around his food.

“Knocked up.” Birch took a sip of his beer.

“Enceinte.” That came from Cole and silenced everyone’s jokes. They all focused on the tiger.

“What the fuck was that? Enceinte?” Grant said what they were all thinking.

“Shut the fuck up.” Cole grumbled.

“He’s been reading those romance novels again.” Birch chuckled.

“How the hell do you know?” Cole curled his lip, exposing a single fang.

“I’m the team alpha.” Birch shrugged. “I know everything.”

Hard core truth. The grizzly bear knew everything there was to know about all of them. Sometimes it was creepy as fuck, but they were all members of SHOC. Privacy wasn’t big in the agency.

Which was why the assholes thought it was just fine to use Declan and Abby’s house as if it was their own. Fuckers.

“Back to you know what.” Ethan wouldn’t leave it alone.

Declan sighed. He did a hell of a lot of sighing. “I don’t think she knows she’s pregnant yet.”

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Pike asked the obvious question.

Declan gave his brother the obvious answer. “Fuck off.”

If only they’d all listen, fuck off, and leave him alone. He hadn’t had a moment alone to figure out how to talk to Abby about the situation. They’d been mated for five months, but between missions and sharing living space with the team while their house was being built, they hadn’t had much time to really talk.

Fuck? Yes. It was how she ended up pregnant, of course. But the talking part… that was a little more difficult. Mainly because all they wanted to do when they had a moment alone was fuck.

Declan blamed it on being newly mated. Plus, his mate was hot as hell. Golden hair, sparkling eyes and those curves… His wolf nudged him, urging him to hunt down Abby so they could get reacquainted with those curves. If he ran now, he might be able to catch Abby before she got home. With luck, he could haul her off and hide them both while he forced her to acknowledge the truth.

Abby was pregnant with his pup. Or cub. It was hard to tell since he was a wolf and his mate was a cougar. It didn’t matter though. If his kid was healthy, he didn’t give a damn if he hissed or howled.

But it would have to be a he. Declan didn’t know what he’d do with a girl. Other than the obvious: kill every boy who ever looked at her.

That could be fun.

All right, maybe a daughter would be okay.

“You’re being a pussy.” Pike shook his head. “Just tell her so we can celebrate already.”

Declan opened his mouth to snarl at his brother, but a delicate, feminine voice had him snapping his teeth together.

“Tell who, what?” Abby called out from near the front door. “Do I need to make something for a party? What are we celebrating?”

His mate still hadn’t made it into the living room so she didn’t see him glare at the guys, his stare promising a whole lot of pain if they said a single word to her. Each man jerked their head in a quick nod and then they spoke as one.

“Nothing!”

Two

The next morning, Abby crept into the bathroom connected to the master bedroom that she shared with her mate. She paused and tilted her head to the side, listening to the sounds that came from elsewhere in the house. The TV was on, morning news droning in the background, and the clang of pots and pans told her Declan was busy working on breakfast.

He was distracted. Good. Her mate being distracted was very, very good. It meant she could focus on Operation: Pee-on-a-Stick.

Not that peeing on a stick required much focus. She was up to test twenty-seven? Maybe twenty-eight. She’d have to drag the little baggies out and count again to be sure, but it wasn’t as if the number of tests mattered. They all had the same result…

Abby was pregnant. She had an oven and there was a little bun in there, cooking away.

Holy shit, she was pregnant. She still couldn’t believe it no matter how many sticks she’d peed on. Which was why she had three more tests from three different companies prepped and ready to be soaked.

Abby was like a pregnancy test-taking ninja. Accountant by day, Stick Peeing Ninja by night.

She wondered if she could get that on a coffee mug…

A loud clang came from downstairs followed by a growled curse and she turned her attention back to the task at hand. Familiar with the process, it took no time to handle her morning bidness and then she had three tests aligned on the counter.

Now she waited, humming the Jeopardy theme song…

Dah, dah, dum, dum, dah, dah, dum…

And then…

Tests twenty-eight, twenty-nine, and thirty confirmed her suspicions. Abby Marie Carter—not Reed because the man hadn’t asked her to marry him yet—was pregnant with Declan Reed’s baby.

Had she mentioned they weren’t engaged?

Her inner cougar snorted and reminded her that being mated was so much more permanent and all-around better than being married.

She ignored the cat. It didn’t dream of white dresses.

The cougar told her that she dreamt of a white rabbit once. Before she ate it for breakfast.

Abby’s stomach rolled and she gagged, dry heaving with the thought of a freshly killed breakfast. Human-shaped Abby wanted nothing to do with meat that was that fresh. Gross.

Her cat snarled, curling her lip back to reveal a single fang while the animal whipped its tail back and forth in agitation. It reminded her she hadn’t been too good for rabbit in the past.

Okay, that pushed the dry heaves into actual puke-age territory and she bent over the toilet. There was nothing in her stomach—thankfully—but that didn’t mean her body didn’t try to turn her inside out anyway. She shuddered once, twice, and then a third time before her body finished betraying her.

Morning sickness sucked ass.

This time the cougar didn’t argue.

“Sweetheart, you up?” Declan’s yell reached her from the kitchen and spurred her into motion.

She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’ll be down in a second!”

After she hid her most recent tests. She tucked them into individual Ziploc snack bags and then put them out of sight beneath her sink… with the other twenty-seven tests.

She stared at the small stash and shook her head. Had she really taken thirty tests to be sure that—

Her cougar snorted. Yeah, she really had.

Now she needed to grow a pair of brass ovaries and tell her mate already. No more delaying or dithering.

There was a baby. Period. More than one baby? Holy shit, she hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Both cougars and wolves tended to have multiple births.

Holy fuck.

Abby took a deep breath and released it slowly, fighting for a calm that seemed just out of reach. She could do this. She’d nearly killed two men—one with a calculator and the other with a gun. She could totally pull off the whole pregnancy thing.

Maybe.

Hopefully?

“No time like the present,” she mumbled to herself.

Another deep breath and she left the bathroom. She padded through their new home and smiled at the small touches she’d scattered throughout their space. Declan hadn’t had a “real” home since he’d fled his pack at fifteen. Now they had a house filled with love.

And soon enough the pitter-patter of little paws.

She cupped her lower stomach, gently rubbing the area in small circles. There was a little peanut—or more—tucked in there and growing larger and larger each day.

A baby.

Abby tromped down the stairs and the scent of breakfast teased her nose—frying bacon and sausage combined with the sizzling eggs. Her stomach growled and her cougar echoed the sound in her mind. Both halves of her were hungry and her kitty purred with the knowledge that their mate would soon meet their needs.

She finally reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner. Her mate stood at the stove in a pair of worn, low slung jeans and nothing else.

“There is nothing sexier than a man in the kitchen.” She grinned and padded to him, pressing her front to his back and nuzzling him between his shoulder blades.

She drew his scent into her lungs, savoring the smoky sweetness tempered by his masculine musk. Her cat purred with their connection, and her whole body vibrated with her inner animal’s happiness.

Her mate chuckled. “I’m always sexy.”

“Hmm… Right now, you’re sexy with a side of bacon.” Her mouth watered. Kitty was anxious to sink her teeth into some meat.

“Hungry, sweetheart?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, hands coming to rest on his washboard abs. He was so hard, muscular all over, and she let her fingers wander. She traced the hills and valleys of his stomach, memories from last night teasing her mind and fanning the flames of her lingering arousal. She’d traced each one with her tongue before she sank lower and wrapped her lips around—

Declan’s low growl interrupted her daydream. “You need to think of something else unless you want me to bend you over the counter.”

She nuzzled his back and closed her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh,” he murmured. “I can smell all that sweet cream. You’re wet for me, aren’t you?”

Abby shuddered and squeezed her thighs together. Her pussy clenched and her clit twitched, thoughts of him doing exactly as he threatened filling her mind. He’d bend her over, pull her panties down and shove—

“Abby.”

She whimpered, bit her lower lip, and wiggled her hips side to side. With every word from his mouth, her desire increased and she wondered what it would take for him to do as he promised.

She’d heard of the sex drive of pregnant women, but… damn.

Which served as a reminder of her condition and her resolve to tell him about little Rumbly Bean growing inside her.

“Sorry.” She tamped down her need, ignoring her cat’s yowled objection, and pulled away from her mate. “I’ll get plates and silverware.”

Declan glanced over his shoulder. “Nah, take a seat. I’ll take care of everything.”

“But I can— “

“Sit and relax? Drink your juice while I finish breakfast? Yes,” he nodded. “You can.”

“Juice?” She wrinkled her nose. “What about coffee?”

He shook his head. “It’s not good for—”

“Bacon? Gotta get that bacon! Smoky bacon, crispy bacon—”

Abby sighed, closed her eyes, and dropped her head forward. “Tell me that’s not Grant and he’s not quoting a commercial for bacon-flavored dog treats. Please.”

Grant—a werewolf and not a dog—rounded the corner, his voice booming through the kitchen. “—tasty bacon!”

Thick arms wrapped around her and Declan hugged her close. He echoed her sigh. “Can’t do that, sweetheart.”

“Remind me why they all have keys to the house again?” She grumbled. Normally she didn’t care about having the guys around all the time, but it did make delicate conversations a little difficult. Like, oh, telling her mate she was pregnant.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” her mate drawled.

“Is that sausage?” Pike’s voice reached them too. “It smells like the fresh stuff from the butcher. Tell me it is.” The younger werewolf turned the corner, his head tipped back, nose in the air as he breathed deep. “Oh, I can smell it. It is.”

“Did Abby make pancakes? I’ve got a craving for pancakes.” Cole came in through the back door—using his own key to the house.

“The only one who gets to have cravings is Abby, asshole.” Ethan pushed Cole aside so he could enter as well.

“Stop talking about cravings.” Birch growled, stomping his feet on the mat on the back porch before he entered the house as well.

Abby’s heart thundered, the beat picking up as her mind connected the word “cravings” to the baby she was cooking. Did they know?

No. No way. It took tests and peeing on sticks and yada, yada. They couldn’t know. Right?

This was definitely not a worry she could have that moment. Not when her mate’s entire SHOC team filled her kitchen and dining nook, obviously hungry.

“Fine,” Cole glared at the team alpha before focusing on Abby. “I’m not having a craving for pancakes. Will you make pancakes for my not-craving?”

Abby huffed, knowing a lost cause when she saw one. “Lemme get the flour.”

Three

Declan knew it was a dumb as fuck idea, but he was done.

Morning pancakes had turned into second breakfast, and then extended into elevenses at which point Abby asked Ethan if he was a tiger shifter or a Hobbit.

Ethan wanted to know why he couldn’t be both.

Fucking. Hell.

He’d managed to kick them all out after supper—Grant decided being a werewolf was overrated and opted to become a Hobbit with Ethan—and then proceeded to plan. Normally planning included the team, the five—now six with Pike—determining the best way to attain their goal. Generally, their end game was to kill someone, but Declan didn’t think SHOC would be happy if he offed an entire team.

Which left him with simply escaping the team, and he planned on using their own safety preparations against them. Because when highly trained, suspicious methods of targeted destruction design homes, they make damn sure there’s more than one way in or out. The houses are also positioned for maximum defense.

Which was why they formed a circle, back yards facing inward to create a courtyard at the center. Eight-foot-high concrete walls connected the homes, shielding the inner circle from view. Declan had voted for ten feet, but had been vetoed. But they hadn’t vetoed his idea for underground tunneling with biometric security. Tunnels that formed a wagon wheel spoke between each house.

Abby had laughed and told him they were all ridiculous. Well, who would be laughing if his plan worked and they got some time to themselves? Ha!

Declan decided to go with a light sedative—for shifters—delivered via the air conditioning system. His steps were silent as he moved through the underground tunnels from home to home. He gained access to each house’s basement via palm and retinal scanners followed by voice recognition. Would the system logs reveal that he was the culprit? Sure. But by the time the rest of the team woke from their drug-induced sleep, he and Abby would be long gone.

Declan started with Birch’s place, the grizzly was the lightest sleeper of them all. It would be pointless to hit the bear up last if his most likely failure would occur with his team alpha. He eased through the house, soft-soled shoes and thick carpet muffling his careful strides up Birch’s basement stairs and into the long hallway that led to his bedroom. The door was ajar and Declan spied the large grizzly sprawled in the middle of the bed, oblivious to his presence.

Perfect.

He eased into the space, careful as he wound his way through the minefield of discarded clothing and empty beer cans. Hell, it was no wonder Birch showed up at Declan and Abby’s as often as he did if this was how his house looked—a true bachelor pad.

Abby’s presence gave Birch what he seemed to need; a woman’s touch.

Now he almost felt bad about his plan. Almost. But not bad enough to stop.

Nope, he kept quiet while he went to the A/C vent and slipped one small disk into the space. The airborne tranquilizer was now ready to be dispersed the next time the air conditioner kicked on.

As shifters, their bodies ran a lot hotter than a human’s which meant their cooling systems worked double-time and A/C was a necessity, especially in the summer.

Declan retraced his path, exiting Birch’s home through the basement and tugging the door to the tunnels closed once more. He waited until the blinking red light that indicated the door was unsecured burned with a steady green, and then he moved on.

He went to Ethan’s and then Grant’s. The lion and wolf both slept heavily, their snores echoing through their homes and Declan rolled his eyes. He knew Grant wanted a mate at some point, but the man would have to do something about his snoring first. Otherwise, his mate might murder him in his sleep just to get some rest.

His next stop was Cole’s place and damn if his partner’s house didn’t surprise him. He’d expected a messy home filled with piles of dirty laundry, take out containers, and discarded cans. What he hadn’t expected was the pristine cleanliness. The wood floors gleamed, the stainless-steel appliances shone in the dim light, and the entire place smelled fresh and clean. Hell, it was cleaner than Declan’s place.

Then again, the fucker spent so much time at Declan’s place it was no wonder that his own house remained tidy. He was too busy fucking up Declan and Abby’s sanctuary.

Declan repeated his process, anxious to get the show on the road now that he was down to the last two team members. First Cole, and then his brother, and then he could snatch Abby and get the hell out of Dodge.

Except Cole…

Declan padded into the tiger’s bedroom and froze. The familiar grind of metal on metal—the racking of a pistol’s slide—cut through the quiet.

Fuck. Cole was awake.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Dammit.”

“Declan,” Cole drawled. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He grunted, no longer pissed at the team, but also himself. “I was quiet, asshole.”

The tiger chuckled. “Yeah, but I added my own special touches to my underground entry. The moment someone other than me gained access, I get a notification.”

“Fucker,” he grumbled. Why the hell hadn’t Declan thought of that? He made a mental note to add something similar to his own basement entrance.

“You’re just pissed you got caught.”

“And?” Declan drawled. There was no sense denying the truth.

“What was the plan? Someone buy you off? Pay you to take us out?”

“Seriously?” He growled, his wolf snarling in the back of his mind. He’d only wanted privacy, not to kill anyone. “You think I’d fucking betray the team? You kidding me right now?”

“What am I supposed to think?” Cole remained calm and cool. Even when Declan listened for the tiger’s heartbeat, he found it to be slow and steady. The air wasn’t filled with the heat of Cole’s anger. Hell, it didn’t hold a single hint of the other agent’s emotions.

“That I want some alone time with my mate and I’m willing to drug the team to get it.” He kept his tone bland. Hadn’t his plan been obvious as hell?

“Ah.”

“That’s it?” He raised a brow even though Cole couldn’t see the movement through the pitch-black darkness. “Ah?”

Declan heard rather than saw Cole’s shrug, the rustle of cloth betraying the tiger’s movement. “Can’t blame you. Didn’t think you’d go this far, though.”

He grunted. “My mate is pregnant with my pup— “

“Or cub.”

Declan swallowed his growl. Barely. “And I can’t get five minutes alone with her so she can tell me.”

“You got five minutes to fuck her.” Cole pointed out and he quit trying to swallow his wolf’s snarling.

“Don’t fucking think about her and fucking in the same thought. You got that motherfucker?” He pointed at the tiger, glare firmly in place. Not that Cole could see, but it made Declan feel better, dammit.

“Yeah, yeah… I hear you.”

“Don’t tell me that if you had a mate, you wouldn’t do anything to get her alone. As if you wouldn’t do the same thing.”

“If I had a mate…” Cole’s voice drifted off and finally Declan caught a whiff of the tiger’s emotions.

The harsh sting of wanting coupled with more than a dash of envy.

Declan’s gums burned, his wolf’s teeth pushing through the thin flesh to pierce his lower lip. His skin stung, fur emerging through his pores while his fingertips throbbed in time with his rapid heartbeat. The wolf wanted out. The wolf wanted to purge Cole of every bit of his desire and envy.

Abby was his. Not anyone else’s. Totally, completely his.

And he’d kill anyone who even thought—

“Calm the fuck down, asshole.” Cole snarled and Declan spotted a flash of white. The tiger bared a long fang, one that was twice his wolf’s.

Whatever. Declan could still take him. Probably. Maybe. If he jumped the tiger from behind and got in a few headshots before the man realized he’d been attacked.

“I don’t want your mate.” Cole snapped, and for a moment Declan wasn’t sure if he should believe the tiger. They were all trained to lie. And cheat. And steal. And kill.

They were trained to do anything other than be good and law abiding. It was what made them awesome.

“I just want a mate.”

A smile teased Declan’s lips. “Aw, Cole wants a girlfriend. You and Grant should get together. Maybe you could work something out and keep each other company while— “

“Fuck off.”

Then came the soft click of metal on metal, two pieces of Cole’s gun shifting in place while he flung it across the room. A subtle shift in the air and low whistle indicated the pistol’s position and Declan lifted his hand. He plucked the weapon from the air, palming it in a single fluid movement.

Declan hefted the gun, testing the weight—it had a full magazine and he already knew one round was in the chamber. “Thanks for that. I can always use another gun for my collection.”

“Give that shit back.”

He snorted. “You shouldn’t throw things unless you’re willing to lose them. Birch said— “

Cole groaned. “Why the hell are you still bothering me? Don’t you have a mate to harass?”

The tiger had a point. Declan did have a mate, but he wouldn’t be doing any harassing. He was going to make her scream his name over and over, though.

“Dude, really? You’re gonna think about sex now? Go stink up someone else’s house with the stink of your hard dick.” Cole even went so far as to gag.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. Jealous fuck. That thought reminded him why he was pissed at Cole and eventually circled back around to why he was in the tiger’s house. “You gonna stop me and raise an alarm, or are you gonna actually let me have time with my mate?”

“You still got leftovers in the fridge?” Hope tinged Cole’s voice.

Declan sighed. “You’re just as bad as Grant, but yes, Abby hid some ribs and barbecue chicken in the back of the fridge behind the fruit salad.”

“Smart. Grant won’t touch anything remotely healthy.” Cole’s tone held a hint of respect… for Abby. Bastard. “All right, I’ll keep my mouth shut and play along, but all bets are off when they figure out where you’re at.”

He snorted. As if they’d locate him. After Pike outed Declan’s hide outs to his SHOC team and Unified Humanity—while Pike had been undercover—he’d dumped his collection of properties and restocked with a whole new set.

Which meant no one would know where Declan took Abby. They wouldn’t be found until Declan was ready to deal with the team.

Part of him wanted that to be never, but the other violent part said they’d only lay low until he had the itch to kill something again. So, maybe day after tomorrow.

Four

A smattering of light danced across Abby’s face, the flashes of sunlight dragging her from sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned while she stretched her body. Arms raised and feet pointed, she wiggled beneath the cool blankets as she finished the crawl toward full awareness. The fabric was silken against her bare skin, the soft textures a gentle caress. She breathed deep, enjoying the heated scent of—

Hold up.

Abby froze and sniffed. Then sniffed again. She added a third long, drawn out, lung stretching inhalation and confirmed her suspicions. She wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Not that she’d been in Kansas. The last thing she remembered was dropping into bed in North Carolina with her mate after scrubbing the kitchen—again. She’d been freshly showered and exhausted, curling easily into Declan’s arms when he’d tugged her close. She’d fallen asleep with the steady beat of his heart filling her ears.

Now she was alone in a bed that didn’t smell like her mate. Hell, when she drew in another breath, she realized the house didn’t smell like hers either. There was no mixture of her scent with her mate’s and there were no lingering aromas of the team. This place was like a blank slate—empty and stale.

She pried her lids apart, blinking against smattering of bright sunlight that burned her eyes. She squinted and glanced around the room and the sight confirmed her suspicions. Yup, she’d been Shanghaied while she slept and dragged off somewhere in the middle of the night.

She mentally whined and huffed aloud. Couldn’t she get a break from kidnapping for a while? Was that too much to ask?

The walls were made of exposed wood—logs—and the furniture reflected the rustic construction. The pale wood was unvarnished, hand sanded, and naturally aged. An old log cabin?

Delicate birdsong drew her gaze to a nearby window and she stared through the crystal-clear panes of glass. A soft breeze forced the tree branches outside to sway and dance. She looked beyond the immediate area and found snow-capped mountain peaks in the distance.

Cabin. Woods. Remote. Shit. She only hoped that her visit wouldn’t involve a zombie redneck torture family straight out of a horror movie. That would suck.

The familiar, heavy cadence of someone’s approach reached her—the steps solid and confident. Declan. And based on the speed of his approach and the loudness of his walk, she figured she was safe. Or he’d already taken out whoever had kidnapped her.

But had she really been kidnapped? She narrowed her eyes and scanned the room once more. She also took stock of her body, not finding any twinge of pain or hint of discomfort. She didn’t recall being dragged from her home on SHOC lands, but…

Pregnancy had made her quick to pass out and hard to wake. She cupped her lower stomach and rubbed the tiny mound forming there. A baby—cub or pup—grew within her. She was still amazed and unwilling to accept the truth, but there were no denying thirty tests.

Those steps stopped just outside the bedroom door. The wooden panel swung inward to reveal her mate in all his shirtless glory. That dark hair, bright blue eyes, and chiseled chin were nice and all, but those abs… Yum. Add in the cloak of danger that surrounded him twenty-four seven and he was perfect. Maybe not in anyone else’s mind—he was more than a bit on the deadly side—but he was the perfect mate for her.

“You’re not supposed to be up yet,” he murmured and drew closer, a dish-covered tray in his hands.

“I can go back to sleep?” She raised an eyebrow and at the same time drew in a breath, absorbing the aromas he brought with him. Her stomach growled and her inner cougar perked up. It wanted what their mate held. Bad. “Or you can feed me…” She breathed in another lungful. “Mmm… bacon, sausage, ham, pancakes and French toast?”

Declan smirked. “Only the best food groups for my mate.”

“Damn straight—meat and sugar.” She wiggled to a sitting position, dragging the sheet along with her as she rested her back against the headboard. Syrup on boobs was only fun if sexytimes were involved. Not so much when it was just breakfast.

Abby extended her arms and held out her hands. “Gimme.”

He chuckled. “Greedy.”

“Hungry.” She narrowed her eyes, suddenly remembering she was in some random cabin and not her house. “For food and an explanation.”

Declan grunted. He always grunted when he didn’t want to answer her.

He closed the distance between them and leaned across the bed, carefully resting the tray on her lap before lying beside her. He picked up a slice of bacon and brought it to her lips. The heat teased her and the scent of the fried meat had saliva pooling in her mouth.

“You know I am capable of feeding myself.”

“Uh-huh.” He stroked her lower lip with the piece of bacon.

“You say that, but you’re still trying to feed me.”

He tapped her lip. “Open.”

Abby listened. Not because he told her to, but… bacon. Her cougar purred and nudged her, urging her to take the bite already. Hell, just eat until the plate was empty and then lick it clean.

She bit into the crispy strip of pork and the salty sweet flavors burst across her taste buds. She purred with the intense taste, chewed the bite, and then swallowed to empty her mouth for more.

“Is this a thing with you? Do I have fifty years of being fed by my mate to look forward to?”

He grunted again. “Seventy at least.”

She opened her mouth when he presented her with a sausage link. And, well, if he wasn’t going to give her a straight answer, she was going to give him a hard time. She formed a small “o” with her lips and took it in her mouth, sliding more and more in until she reached his fingers. She moaned around the sausage and gradually withdrew before repeating the process. A slow, sensuous glide of her mouth along the link.

Much like what she enjoyed doing to his cock. Though his cock was massively better in girth, length, and… she wanted to say taste, but sausage. She wasn’t sure anyone would prefer cum to sausage no matter how much they loved the guy.

“Abby…” he growled a warning and his eyes flashed the amber of his wolf.

She gradually retreated and fluttered her eyelashes, giving him a look that was innocent and pure. She would know, she’d practiced it often enough. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re teasing. You know what happens when you tease.” More growling, his wolf evident in his voice.

“And you know what happens when you evade my questions.” Abby darted forward and snapped her teeth through the link.

Declan winced. “Ouch, sweetheart. And you didn’t exactly ask anything. You said you were hungry.”

It was her turn to grunt. She hated when he used logic. She chewed and swallowed the bite before speaking again. “Where are we?”

He leaned over and cut into a pancake, presenting it to her on a fork. “For every bite, I’ll answer a question.”

Coincidentally, she was hungry so she figured she could play along.

As she chewed, he finally answered. “Gatlinburg, Tennessee.”

“And the team?” Because they sure as hell didn’t go anywhere without the guys.

The next bite was French toast.

“I’m assuming they’re still passed out in their homes.” Declan shrugged. “Except for Cole. The asshole caught me before I could knock him out.”

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said. And did.”

He shrugged again and held up a piece of ham. Abby jerked back. “I didn’t ask my question yet.”

“Get on with it sweetheart. You need to eat.”

Abby snorted. She needed to eat? She was curvy in every damned place on her body and she’d only get curvier as her pregnancy progressed. She possessed a gold medal in food worship.

“Is there a reason we’re in Tennessee?”

He practically shoved the meat in her mouth. “Yup.”

“That was cheating,” she mumbled around the bite.

“I answered the question you asked.” He gathered a forkful of pancakes. “Next?”

“Why are we in Tennessee?” She narrowed her eyes. Let him get around that.

“Because that’s where Gatlinburg happens to be.”

Bastard. Sneaky, sexy bastard, but still a bastard. And she had enough pregnancy brain to fuddle her mind. “For what purpose did you transport me from our home to Gatlinburg, Tennessee and into this cabin?”

“Would you believe me if I said the reason was breakfast?”

“No,” she drawled. “The bacon is good, but there was good bacon at home, too.”

Fresh even. There was an awesome shifter-owned deli that made the best bacon and sausage. Mmm…

“Know what else is at home? Or rather who?”

Yeah, Abby did. “The team.”

“The team who’s decided they prefer our house to their own for everything but sleeping. It was get you away from them or kill them… and you don’t like…”

She sighed. “I don’t like you killing unless you have to.” She met his gaze. “I would have understood if you took out the team, though. I was about to smother them in their sleep.”

Declan grinned, blue eyes sparkling. “My bloodthirsty little mate.”

He closed the distance between them and captured her lips in a swift kiss. One that wasn’t nearly enough. She had the whole pregnancy libido, too.

She raised an eyebrow. “And hungry. Don’t forget hungry.”

“Then lemme finish pampering you. We’ve got the cabin for three days with no SHOC team. No interruptions. Just you.” Kiss. “Me.” Kiss. “And the forest.”

Then he gave her a deeper kiss, one with a hint of tongue that included a moan. The forest sounded nice but getting him between her thighs seemed nicer.

“Are we celebrating something specific while we’re here or…?”

Declan’s eyes met hers, his gaze intent and unwavering. He stared at her, as if he could see every secret she held. But he couldn’t, right? Because she wasn’t quite ready to go there. She was sure she’d grow brass ovaries. Soon, even. Just not quite yet. Maybe in a million years. Or maybe after she gave birth.

Yeah, that sounded good.

He brushes his lips across hers, this kiss chaste but no less arousing. “I love you.”

“Oh,” she breathed out the single syllable. “I love you, too.”

More than she could ever convey. They’d faced death side-by-side and he’d made sure they came through every conflict unscathed. Mostly. Okay, she’d been shot twice, but that wasn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things. She was still alive, after all.

Alive and mated to the most amazing man she’d ever known. He was also sometimes the biggest asshole she’d ever known, but she figured she had to take the good with the bad. He dealt with her when she had her period and wanted to strangle every man who came within grabbing distance. He also made sure she had a steady supply of chocolate.

Now that she was pregnant, she’d miss her monthly choco-fest. There was no period, thus no feast. Then again… she pondered for a moment. She could tell him that the baby craved chocolate.

Boom.

That assumed she told him about the baby. Soon, even. Right. Maybe this mini-vacation was the perfect time to word vomit the truth.

“I liked it better when we were running for our lives.” He held out another bite. “We got more private time when I kidnapped you.”

She grinned. Wasn’t that the truth? “I like this, though. Are you renting the cabin or is it yours?”

“It’s not a rental. It’s ours.” He gave her that familiar glare. The one that told her their belongings were theirs and not only his just because he made more money than she did. Accountants earned nothing compared to highly trained SHOC agents. “And no one knows we own it.”

“It’s our own hideaway?” She gave him a beaming smile.

“Yup. Complete with plenty of land to run on.” More quick, soft kisses. “Want to run after you finish eating?”

“Yes.”

Anything to avoid the whole “guess what, I’m pregnant” conversation.

Five

Abby still hadn’t told Declan she was pregnant, but he was a patient man. Or could be. But dammit, when it came to his mate, he wasn’t. At all.

A growl built in his chest, his wolf pacing and snarling even more the longer she kept the secret to herself. He wanted to hear the words so they could have celebratory sex. From the moment he’d carried her over the threshold into the empty of other living beings house, he’d been hard.

Hard and aching for his mate. He could take her against the wall, over the couch, on the kitchen counter… And there wouldn’t be a single SHOC team member to bitch about smelling the scent of their sex.

If the assholes didn’t want to smell him and Abby getting it on, then the assholes could…

“Mmm… That was good.” Abby mumbled around the last bite he fed her.

He knew she’d taste better. Her pussy was something poets wrote about. Ode to my mate’s cunt. Or something. Poets probably wouldn’t use the word “cunt” but Abby liked it when he talked dirty.

“Ready to stretch your legs and feel the dirt between your claws?” His wolf was ready. They’d run and he’d pounce and force her to submit so she’d admit to—

Declan cut off the beast’s line of thinking. They’d never make their mate submit or demand answers she wasn’t ready to give.

No matter how much it pissed them off.

The beast grumbled its agreement.

Abby licked her lips, drawing his attention back to her tempting mouth. Maybe they could fuck and then…

She pressed her finger to his mouth and shook her head. “I know that look. Run first. Maybe we can find a nice little creek and recreate our mating.”

Declan’s dick throbbed, memories of their initial mating all those months ago surging to the forefront of his mind.

“Tease,” he growled and snatched the tray. “Let’s get moving before I tie you to the bed.”

“Promises, promises,” she sing-songed and he figured he deserved a fucking medal for getting out of bed.

He carried the tray back to the kitchen and placed the dirty dishes in the sink. Well, he added them to the pile of dirty pans. He hadn’t exactly been tidy when he made Abby’s breakfast. Eh, he’d deal with them later. He had a date with his mate.

His mate who softly padded down the hallway, her small feet thudding gently on the rustic wood floor. Hell, the whole cabin had that rustic feel. It wasn’t to his taste, but damn near everything on the mountain was log cabins that were all filled with tiled countertops, wood flooring, gold fixtures that were popular in the eighties, and not a single hunk of granite in sight.

She emerged from the hallway, not a stitch of clothing draped over her curvaceous body. Each one of her soft lines were visible and way too tempting.

“Are you sure we can’t…” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Run,” she smirked. “And if you catch me, you get to pick the first position.”

“First?” He quirked a brow.

“Of many.” She winked and darted past him with a giggle and he took his time following. He liked the view too much. Her ass bounced with her every step and his mouth watered. He wanted to nibble that ass before he—

“Are you coming?” Abby called back to him, her voice followed by the snick of a lock and the squeal of hinges as she swung the back door wide.

Was he coming? He snorted. “Not yet!”

But he would be. Soon.

The back door slammed closed, Abby’s laughter trailing behind her, and Declan put on a little speed. He turned the corner and went after her, his attention on his mate’s plump ass while she hopped down the back stairs. He burst onto the back porch and yanked at his jeans, tearing them from his hips and legs.

Good thing he brought more clothing.

He watched his mate’s shift roll through her, pausing long enough to observe the gentle ripple of her skin as the golden fur emerged. Her pale skin was replaced by the silken fur of her inner cougar. The snap and crack of bone followed, her body reshaping into the feline’s form. A long, twitching tail grew, hands and feet became paws, and deadly fangs replaced her human teeth.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he rasped and tromped down the steps. He let his wolf push forward as well, the beast anxious to join Abby.

His mate flicked her tail, the tip twitching. She didn’t take compliments well, but he had the rest of his life to prove how he felt about her. If his hard cock didn’t do it, he’d simply worship her body until she gave in.

Dark gray—nearly black—fur sprouted along his forearms, the wolf asserting itself and more than ready to run. He let his shift roll through him, the animal taking control of Declan’s human body. His face reshaped to his wolven maw, his own deadly fangs making an appearance. Then came his claws, the dark nails digging into the mountain’s dirt.

And with the change came the wolf’s overwhelming urge to pounce on Abby. She’d teased the animal enough. Now it was time to pay. Er, play.

He stuck his ass in the air and lowered his chest, wagging his tail while he let his mouth hang open with his tongue lolling out. He barked and jumped to the side before repeating the motion and adding a yip.

Abby’s flicking tail picked up speed, the cat’s golden eyes on his. She was skeptical but she had every reason to be. The last time he’d initiated play, she’d ended up beneath his claws with a snout covered in saliva.

This time, a part of her would be covered in saliva, but it wouldn’t be her snout. Nah, he’d shift and bury his head between her…

His mate hissed and then spun in place, sharp claws flinging dirt in the air when she broke into a run towards the tree line.

Declan leapt forward, his wolf instinctually reacting to his mate’s sudden dash. The chase was on—with him as the predator while she became the prey.

Abby darted between the trees, very few bushes and young saplings available to shield her from view for long. She slalomed through the forest, lurching left then right and left again. She didn’t slow as she traversed their lands but Declan knew her cat took in every detail. Every sound, sight, and smell filled her mind as she fought to put distance between them.

Declan had already been through the forest. He’d learned its secrets and used that knowledge to his advantage. All was fair in love and demanding-his-mate-reveal-her-pregnancy.

Abby headed north, deeper into the trees and Declan ducked right, heading to a game trail he’d discovered. It was flatted and straighter than his mate’s random path. It allowed him to gain on her and eventually come alongside her. She shot him a glare and picked up speed, her cat pushing just a little harder. He matched her pace with ease.

That had her curling her lip.

Declan just grinned, tongue hanging out to taunt her with his relaxed state.

That had her hissing. It was wrong that he liked annoying her so much.

He recognized the next half-dozen trees as well as the downed log just off his path. They were coming up on the trap he’d laid. Or rather, the trap nature had given him. He put on a burst of speed, digging into his wolf’s reserves and running harder so he reached their next destination first. Bright sun light illuminated his destination and he soon raced into the natural clearing just before Abby.

He spun on his paws and darted toward her, cutting her off just as she reached the center. He leapt into her path, blocking her with a sharp bark and rapid wag of his tail. He stuck his ass in the air again, aching to play but loving the fact that he got the upper hand. At least for a little while. If Abby decided to take to the trees…

Motherfucker.

Abby tensed her muscles, body coiling tight, and then she launched herself up and over him. She landed on his opposite side with a thump of four paws on fresh grass, and then dug deep. When she took off once more, she threw a rain of dirt and greenery over him and he whirled to chase her once more.

And that was when she did what he’d hoped she’d avoid—she took to the trees.

Pain in the ass, tree-climbing cougars. He loved her, he’d kill for her, but he wouldn’t chase her with his paws twenty feet off the ground.

His wolf enhanced his hearing, allowing him to track Abby even though he couldn’t see her high above the forest floor. She continued in the same direction, veering away from him when he drew closer.

Exactly as he’d planned.

Soon the babbling creek reached his ears, their destination near. She’d have to leave the trees behind to make it across the water, but he’d pounce on her first. Even if he had to half-kill himself to get there.

He put on speed, dug deeper into his reserves and bolted beyond his mate. He smoothed his stride, steps long and fluid while he reached for the creek. He moved closer and closer, his mate now chasing him instead of the other way around. He skidded to the water’s edge, claws digging into wet dirt and sand while he came to a stop.

Abby entered the area just after him, her delicate paws thumping to the damp dirt. Her chest heaved from exertion, but he didn’t miss the happiness in her feline’s expression. Her yellow-brown eyes sparkled with joy and her delicate pink tongue flicked out to lick her whiskers. She pranced toward him, tail held high in the air. Her kitty loved to run almost as much as his wolf.

Now that they’d gotten that part out of the way, the second phase in his plan could begin.

Declan tensed, muscles bunching though he made himself appear relaxed and at ease. It was a gift from his training—and his past as an assassin. Ready to burst into action with a single thought. He slowly made his way toward her, tail continuing to sway while he kept his mouth open and tongue hanging out.

Look at me, I just want to play. I’m not going to pounce on you or interrogate you. La-di-dah.

Abby narrowed her eyes for a split-second and he wondered if he’d been caught. Had she learned his tells already? Dammit.

Not willing to risk it, he pounced. His wolf leapt to the fore, muscles straining to fling his massive body across the expanse that separated them. His mate whirled to avoid him, but he was too quick. He easily landed atop her back and held tight, rolling with her across the wet ground. His shift rippled through him as they tumbled, turning his wolf’s body back to a man’s so he could grip her even tighter.

His transition triggered hers and his sensuous cougar was soon replaced by his luscious, curvy mate in all her blissfully nude glory. Watching her naked body as she walked toward the tree line had been nice. Feeling her flush against his muscles was glorious.

He maneuvered them until their fronts met, her plump breasts flat against his chest. Her nipples hardened, firm points telling him exactly how much she’d enjoyed their chase. He breathed deep, drawing in the scents of the forest… and his mate’s desire. If he reached between her thighs, he’d find her soaked and ready for him.

Fuck, his cock was hard and ready for her. His wolf yipped its agreement. They’d caught their prey, now it was time to eat. She’d taste so delicious—warm, salty, and sweet. Utter perfection in one lush package.

Not yet. Though God knew he wanted to give in to his wolf’s urges.

Declan’s inner wolf changed the yip to a deep growl and the beast struck out at his mind with those sharp claws. Asshole. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t give in before they got back to the cabin. He just needed a little intel first.

The wolf needed to treat this like an interrogation.

The beast wanted to interrogate her with pleasure. Specifically, they’d take their own and leave her high and dry.

Damn, the animal could be a bastard.

He wasn’t about to do that to their mate. Sex was always better when they came together.

“Got you,” he murmured.

Abby’s thighs spread slightly—just a few inches—and he took advantage of the movement. He wedged his hips between her legs, pushing them wider while he nestled his hard cock against her pussy. He groaned at the heat and wetness that bathed his dick. Fuck. She’d been just as wet and wanting as he’d imagined.

“You did,” she murmured in return. “Now, what are you going to do with me?”

Declan lowered his head and nipped her lower lip then licked the abused bit of flesh. Her flavors burst across his taste buds and he moaned.

“I’m going to fuck you, but first…” He looked into her eyes, the color transitioning from blue to golden and back again. “I’m going to interrogate you.”

She frowned, eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”

“You’ve got a secret, sweetheart, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

Six

“Uhhh…” Abby’s brain could kick in at any time now, thanks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His little smirk, the arrogant tilt of his lips, was a silent taunt of “liar, liar, pants on fire.”

Well, she wasn’t wearing pants, so hah!

Her mate wasn’t wearing pants either which meant his hard cock was nestled right against her pussy, his thick length teasing the seam of her sex. She widened her thighs, giving him more space until he settled firmly between her legs. She rolled her hips, enjoying the feel of his firm length caressing her aroused flesh.

She was always aroused when she was in Declan’s presence. His scent, his perfect body, and the air of danger that surrounded him always tripped her “bend me over and take me” trigger.

Always.

Hell, it was even worse now that she was pregnant.

Was that the secret he wanted her to reveal? Yeah, that wasn’t happening in the middle of a Tennessee forest at the edge of a creek. That was not a story she was telling her little cub. Or pup. Cup? Pub? She was being ridiculous now.

“Uh-huh. Sure you don’t,” he drawled.

“I don’t know what?” She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

“Are you paying attention sweetheart?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Ummm…” She had been paying attention but then there was his cock and her pussy and all those muscles… She rolled her hips, relishing his touch and her “ummm” turned into, “Mmm…”

Declan grabbed her hip and gave it a firm squeeze while he growled. “No pleasure until you tell me what I want to know.”

Abby whimpered and wiggled her hips back and forth. “But…”

He grabbed the back of her thigh and tugged until she hooked her leg around his waist. Then he reached down and grabbed her ass. “Yes, you have a lovely butt. I fucking love your ass.”

“I’m having a hard time following this conversation.” At least, that was what she’d wanted to say. She wasn’t sure if she got the words out because he dropped his head and then captured her nipple with his mouth and… It may have come out as, “Flibbirty gibbet, gimme, gimme, gimme.”

Or something.

Because then he laughed and those delicious vibrations shot from her nipple to her clit and a shudder raced down her spine. She moaned and arched, pushing her breast deeper into Declan’s mouth with a demand for more. Which only made him laugh again. He released the hard nub with a soft pop and focused on her.

“You’ll take what I give you.” He scraped his elongated fangs across her chest, collarbone to collarbone, before sucking hard and leaving a red spot in his wake.

“Did you just give me a hickey?”

“Maybe,” he mumbled against her skin and then sucked her flesh once more.

“Dammit, Declan. I can’t go to work— “

He bit down, capturing her skin between his teeth. He increased the pressure until a throbbing pain pulsed through her from head to toe. Then he released her and lapped at the indentations.

“You work at SHOC with shifters. They can smell that we’re mates. Now everyone can see it, too.”

And in a few months, they’ll see my big old baby bump. Maybe he’d stop with the hickeys then. She mentally sighed. Who was she kidding? He’d never stop.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to anyway.

Declan squeezed her ass once more, the tips of his nails pricking her rounded flesh just shy of piercing her skin. It was a light sting that simply added to the pleasure of his touch. He kneaded the plump mound, and then… she shuddered… Then he ever so slightly tipped his hips. Not a true caress, simply a small adjustment to his position but it was enough to draw a long, deep moan from Abby’s chest.

A wave of ecstasy slithered through her. Her pussy clenched and released moisture, her body preparing for his possession. Which she hoped happened soon.

“Declan.”

“Mmm…” He licked the valley between her breasts and then switched to her other nipple. “I think this one’s jealous. What do you think?”

He didn’t give her a chance to answer. He merely nabbed the firm tip between his lips and suckled her. Soft, sensuous pulls that added bliss to the ever-growing pleasure he caused.

Abby’s cougar purred, anxious for the closeness of their mate, anxious to become one with him. As if they didn’t get enough sex from Declan. Ha!

Greedy kitty.

The cat did not disagree.

Declan grabbed her nipple with his teeth, nibbling the nub with his fangs just to the point of pain. He released her and blew a soft breath of air across the abused flesh.

He lifted his attention to her. “Do you think it’s still jealous?”

Abby swallowed hard and licked her lips. “I think my pussy’s jealous.”

Because dear God she wanted his mouth on her. Then she wanted his cock as deep and hard as possible. Like, yesterday.

“Hmmm…” He rolled his hips in a deliberate caress and she moaned as his heated flesh slid along the seam of her cunt. “This pussy?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded and whined when he repeated the motion.

“This pussy right here?” He did it again, the head of his cock sliding through her juices and brushing her clit. Her core clenched on air, silently begging to be filled by him.

“Please, please, please…”

“You want my mouth here? Or my cock?” His deep voice was almost a purr.

“Yes.” To everything, to all of it. “Please.”

Hadn’t she said please, like, a lot already?

“Yeah?” Declan froze, body hard as stone and unmoving. He brushed a chaste kiss across her lips. “You have to do something for me, first.”

“Any—” Well, maybe not anything. Now wasn’t the time to scream about the bun in her oven. It needed to be a sweet, candlelit event or something. Sure, she’d keep lying to herself and put it off as long as possible. “What?”

“This.” This was followed by Declan pulling away, scooping her into his massive arms and then dropping her in the creek.

Dropping her.

In the creek.

The cold as hell, creek.

The water surrounded her, wrapping her in a frigid, wet blanket, and she burst past the surface with a splash and scream.

“Declan!” She screeched and she didn’t care how many birds she scared and sent flying into the air.

Her mate didn’t answer her, his crazy ass was too busy leaping into the water after her and landing with his own large splash. He popped up and whipped his head back, flinging water everywhere. Including all over her.

Asshole.

“I can’t believe you— “

Declan wrapped his arms around her and yanked her close. Their fronts now flush, his firm muscles against her rounded curves, she almost forgot why she was mad at him. Then he grabbed her knee and pulled it around his waist, exposing her pussy to the frigid waters. That freezing liquid bathed her heated—previously aroused but fuck that noise—flesh and she had no trouble recalling why she was angry.

“You asshole!” She struggled against his firm hold, his arms like unmovable steel bands.

Her mate just laughed, a deep, bellowing chuckle that she felt from head to toe and everywhere in between. Including in between her thighs where his cock was back to nudging. Hell, even cold water didn’t cool his desire for her. That realization made her preen a little. Not even a cold soak could make her mate soft.

Declan bent and rubbed the tip of his nose on hers. “You love me.”

Bastard. She totally did. Even when he was an asshole. Instead of saying that, she took a page from her mate’s book.

Abby grunted.

“And because I love you, I’m not going to fuck you and get dirt in all the wrong places.” He kissed her, this one soft and sweet with a hint of tongue.

“But the water’s cold.” She didn’t care if she whined. She was a baby-making machine, dammit. She was supposed to be coddled and crap.

“Then let me warm you up,” he murmured and kissed the tip of her nose.

He transferred his hold to her wrist and dragged her toward a pile of smooth boulders at the water’s edge. One that appeared to be the perfect height for… Another sliver of need snaked through her. He’d lay her on the rock free of… Abby narrowed her eyes. The boulders weren’t covered in dirt, moss, or little growing things as someone would expect. Nope, they looked freshly cleaned.

Cleaned?

She turned that glare on her mate. “You put those there.”

Declan shrugged and kept pulling her along. When they reached the rocks, he gripped her waist and placed her exactly where he wanted her—ass on the edge of a stone and back resting on the rock. He lowered to his knees in the water and draped her legs over his shoulders.

Okay, maybe putting the rocks by the creek was a good idea.

Her mate nuzzled her inner thigh, tongue flicking out to lap at the water clinging to her skin. She widened her legs and wiggled her hips, doing her best to bring his attention to there. The there that ached and practically screamed for his touch.

He ignored her and continued his teasing. A kiss there. Then a scrape of a fang over there. And then he nibbled where her thigh and hip met—so close to her pussy she was ready to scream.

Her desire continued to rise, her need stoked by his near-chaste teasing. There was no tongue, no cock, no fingers… Abby whined when he moved to her other leg instead of heading for her center.

The bastard.

“Declan, please. You washed me off so you could…” she whined. “Please.”

He laughed, the low, deep chuckle vibrating through her in an arousing wave. He tipped his head enough to meet her stare—amber eyes boring into hers. “I also said you had a secret. Ready to tell me?”

“Secret?” She whispered, voice hoarse. The man really was too close to her pussy if he expected her to think.

“Uh-huh.” He blew a breath across her heated flesh. “Mates don’t keep secrets from each other.”

Abby swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.” His mouth eased closer to where she needed him most. Less than a hairsbreadth now separated them. “One hundred percent sure.”

“Uh…” Really, if he flicked out his tongue he’d be lapping at her pussy and she didn’t think it would take more than a lick or two to push her over the edge. If he’d just…

“Tell me what you’ve been hiding, sweetheart.”

“Orgasm first, talking later?” She poked out her lower lip and didn’t care that she was a cougar shifter giving him puppy-dog eyes.

“Nope.” He shook his head, lips brushing over her pussy lips.

She shuddered and moaned, small jolts of pleasure sparking through her. He continued rubbing back and forth, pressure increasing slightly with each pass. She trembled and fought to swallow her moan, refusing to acknowledge the growing pleasure. If he realized she was getting off on that barely-there caress, he might take it away.

And then she might kill him—the father of her unborn child.

That thought tripped into another until reality decided to have a nice little visit.

Declan knew she had a secret and she was pretty certain he knew what that secret was. The man was a Shifter Operations Command agent, after all. Secrets, lies, death, and destruction were his bread and butter. So… yeah.

“Tell me, Abby.” His voice throbbed within her body, tiny shockwaves following those few words and she fought to bury the whimper teasing her lips.

Her nipples turned into hard points, the nubs aching for her mate’s mouth once more. He could nibble and bite while he fucked her hard and harder and…

And Declan scraped a single fang across the top of her slit. He teased that sensitive flesh with the sharp tooth. She couldn’t withhold the shudder that overtook her then. Nor could she silence the soul-deep moan.

“Declan,” she breathed his name.

He teased the top of her slit with his tongue, flicking that small indentation with rapid flutters.

“Declan, please.” She sobbed and rocked her hips, but he merely gripped her hips and held her still.

“No moving. This is my interrogation.” He snarled and amber eyes met hers. “Tell me.”

Tell him? She was supposed to what? She shook her head, arousal and desire clouding her mind until all she could think of was the pleasure she could find with Declan between her thighs.

“I-I-I…” She really was an intelligent person. Most of the time. Just not during sex, apparently.

“I’ll start for you.” He softened his voice and raised the pitch. “Declan, I’m…”

“Declan,” she whispered his name. Then the tip of his tongue delved between her pussy lips and teased her clit. “Declan, I’m…” He repeated the motion, lingering on that bundle of nerves. Sparkles of pleasure danced inside her, her nerves flickering to life with his sensual caress. “Declan, I’m pre— “

“Did she tell you she’s pregnant, yet?” The bellow echoed through the forest and squashed every snippet of bliss she’d managed to gather.

The team had arrived.

Seven

Declan would kill them. All of them. One at a time in the slowest, most painful ways possible. He groaned then sighed in resignation. He rested his forehead on Abby’s thigh while he fought his wolf. The beast wanted to burst free and hunt the other males—tear them to pieces before returning to claim their mate again. He’d wash the blood and gore off in the creek and then pounce on Abby. Yes, that sounded like an excellent plan.

The snap and crack of twigs bounded through the trees, the crunch of dead leaves joining in as someone approached. He listened to the heavy thuds and the slow cadence, identifying the newcomer before he got too close.

“Pike,” he growled his brother’s name.

“Heya, Dec.” Pike kept coming, there was no hitch in his step and his pace remained steady. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Declan drew in another deep breath, fighting for a calm that remained out of reach. The only thing his slow breathing did accomplish was to fill his lungs with the lingering scent of Abby’s need. That salty-sweet musk teased his nose and his cock throbbed. His body was still hard and primed for her and his inner wolf howled when he finally realized fucking Abby was no longer on the menu. If the team was here, he wasn’t sure when it would be back on the menu either.

Bastards.

“How the fuck did you find us?” His brother drew nearer and he followed his question with an order. “And don’t come any fucking closer.”

Brother or not, if Pike saw Abby as slick and naked as she was, he’d have to kill him. Abby’s luscious curves were for Declan’s eyes only.

Pike stopped, still out of sight of the water. “Uh… It was Grant’s fault!”

“Fuck you. I didn’t do shit!” Grant’s voice came from a distance. Smart wolf.

Declan lifted his head and glared toward the trees, curling his lip. His beast really didn’t like Grant being in the area. Period.

“You designed the thing.” Pike called back before speaking to Declan once more. “Dec, so you know how Abby got shot a few months ago?” Declan grunted. “And you know how the docs opened her back up to make sure nothing got left behind?” Another grunt. “And you know how Birch wanted to— “

“The point, Pike,” he snarled and then small, delicate fingers sifted through his hair.

Abby stroked his head, brushing the long strands of his dark hair away from his face. Her soft touch soothed his wolf, calming him in a way no one else ever could. He shuddered and gently moaned as his muscles relaxed beneath her caress.

“Someone who isn’t me chipped her.”

Declan closed his eyes, Pike’s words tumbling through his mind while he fought to make sense of them. No matter how he shuffled them around, he couldn’t figure out a way to piece them together that wouldn’t enrage his wolf.

Fury rushed forward and he gripped the boulder, claws emerging to chip at the rock. “You— “

“You chipped me like a fucking cat?” Abby scrambled upright, claw-tipped fingers shoving Declan. Her sharp nails scratched and scraped his skin as she fought for freedom. “I’m going to kill you.”

“It wasn’t me!” Pike wailed just before the rapid thundering of his retreat bounded through the forest.

Abby hissed, bare skin rippling with waves of golden fur and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She struggled against his hold, snarling while she squirmed for freedom.

He had to admit, her anger was fucking hot.

The chip—apparently—inside her, was not.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. You can watch.” He growled and set his mate aside, returning her to the boulder. “Sit tight. Lemme get rid of ‘em and I’ll be right back.”

“Fuck that noise.” She slid from the rock once more. “I want this piece of junk out of wherever the hell it is.”

“Sweetheart…” Declan glanced at her then the forest, his attention bouncing between the two. He was torn, aching to go after the guys and letting Abby get a piece of the action and yet… “You’re naked.”

Abby strode forward and poked him in the chest with one of those pointed nails. “I’m going with you Declan Montgomery Reed and so help you if you try to stop me.”

“That’s fucking hot.” The words just sprung from his mouth, but he wouldn’t take them back. It was hot as hell.

She glared at him, eyes narrowing before she spun and stomped toward the forest—and the guys.

He jogged and caught up with her, snaring her around the waist once more. “You’ll stay behind the trees until I get you something to wear. No way are those assholes getting a look at my mate.” He drew her to a stop and figured they should address Pike’s revelation. “You know, my pregnant mate.”

Abby paused with a wince and scrunched her nose. “About that…”

“When were you gonna tell me?”

“How do you even know?” She narrowed her eyes and pointed at him. “Did you find the tests.”

“Tests? You had to take a test to realize you were carrying my pup?”

“Cub,” she snapped. “And yes, tests. How else would I know I’m pregnant?”

“Sweetheart,” he tapped the tip of her nose. “You have a nose. We all scented the change in you within days of your pregnancy. You didn’t?” The way she glared a little harder told him she hadn’t and some backpedaling was in order. Oops. “Maybe it’s something pregnant women can’t pick up.”

Unlikely but he wasn’t about to piss off his pregnant mate. He couldn’t handle a fight with her, he had asses to kick.

“Are you two coming?” A shout from Grant followed by a low ow. “Fucker, don’t hit me. I wasn’t talking about that kind of coming. I’m hungry. I’ve got low blood sugar.”

Abby sighed and shouted. “Shifters don’t get low blood sugar!”

“Hey Abby!” Couldn’t Grant shut the fuck up? “Will you make potato salad?”

“I’m gonna kill ‘em,” he growled and snatched his mate’s hand. “C’mon.”

Declan led her through the forest, careful not to walk too fast and make her stumble. They made a direct shot toward the cabin, bypassing the fun trail they’d followed on their way out. This wasn’t about enjoyment. It was about getting home… for some violent enjoyment.

That sounded great.

He finally caught sight of the cabin through the trees and stopped by a large stump. “Stay here, I’ll get you a shirt and then you can watch me kick some shifter ass.”

He didn’t wait for a response, simply stomping the rest of the way until he reached the tree line and the team loitering in the backyard. Two SUVs were parked in the side yard, Cole and Birch hauling shit from the vehicles and into the cabin. Grant poked at the grill while Ethan leaned against the porch rail nearby. Pike was closest, his brother not twenty feet from the edge of the forest, arms crossed.

“Shirt,” he snapped.

Pike blinked and jerked back with a frown. “Huh?”

“Give. Me. Your. Shirt.” Declan glared. “You all interrupted our run and I’ll be damned before anyone gets a look at Abby’s ass.”

His brother rolled his eyes and reached for the hem of his t-shirt. “She’s claimed. It’s not like— “

Declan’s wolf pushed forward, the growl rolling from his chest to fill the air. His animal didn’t give a flying fuck if Abby was mated. No one saw her naked but them.

Pike moved that much faster, the fabric whipped over his head and tossed at Declan in no time. He caught it and gave his brother a grunt before returning to his mate’s side. She tried to take it from him, but he merely shook his head and held it up for her, slipping it on and tugging it down until those lush curves were hidden.

His inner wolf whined with the loss, but it was for the best. He didn’t want to have to blind the guys for looking. Only kill them for interrupting.

Declan jerked his head in a quick nod and a grunt before snaring her hand and dragging her to the back yard.

The second they stepped into sight, all activity outside ceased and they became the center of attention. Quiet descended, everyone frozen in place, until Grant broke the peace.

“There’s momma!” The wolf vaulted over the porch railing and jogged closer, arms spread wide. “Give Uncle Grant a hug.”

Declan stepped forward, cutting the other man off. “No.”

Grant slid to a stop. “Huh?”

“No. No momma. No Uncle Grant. No interrupting my fucking weekend and no fucking chip in my mate.”

“Ah…” Grant’s eyebrows drew upward. “Uh, Birch made me do it.”

With that, the wolf was gone, running—not lazily jogging—back the way he’d come.

“Birch!” He roared, Abby’s hand still clutched in his as he stomped toward the cabin. He’d just seen the team alpha disappear through the side door.

Cole emerged before Declan reached the house, the massive tiger stepping out the back door. “Yo, good to see you, man.” Cole’s attention flicked down and then back up to Declan. “Could you put your dick away? No one but Abby wants to see that shit.” Then Cole’s gaze went to Abby. “Nice legs, sweetheart.”

And with that, the tiger sauntered away and Declan was torn between chasing the bastard or continue his hunt for Birch.

Ethan poked his head out and called from behind them. “She does have a nice set of legs. Lucky bastard.”

Hunting Birch it is. No way was he sticking around while his mate remained half-naked.

Just then, Birch strode past the back door, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and Declan chased after the team alpha. “Birch!”

The grizzly ignored him. Asshole.

Abby kept pace with him as he strode through the house, weaving through the massive first floor until they reached—

“Surprise!”

Pink and blue shit filled their living room. Everywhere. Balloons and paper streamers and was that… glitter? The assholes had sprinkled glitter confetti stuff all over the tables.

“What…?” Abby’s soft whisper drew his attention from the grinning assholes and the pink and blue vomit that’d encased the living room. “You guys…”

Those sparkling blue eyes he loved filled with tears, moisture gathering and spilling to form thin tracks down her cheeks. Her hand trembled, fingers pressed to her lips.

“Sweetheart?” He shot a glare at the guys and more than one looked panicked. “Are you okay?”

He scanned her with his gaze, hunting for any hint of an injury. Had he dragged her all the way to the house and not realized she was injured? He couldn’t be that shitty of a mate, could he?

Okay, in truth, it was possible, but shit. He hoped not and he breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t see her bleeding anywhere.

“You guys did this?” She released him and took a step forward, her attention drifting over the room. He followed her stare, taking in the banner that stretched across the window.

Congrats Baby Momma!

Declan had no doubt that one was courtesy of his younger brother, Pike.

Cole coughed into his fist and then waved toward Abby’s middle but kept his attention averted. “Pregnant women get baby showers.”

“So, we threw you a party.” Ethan emerged from behind them.

“But just because it’s your party, will you still make potato salad?” Then came Grant.

“And deviled eggs? The ones from the grocery store deli aren’t as good as yours.” Pike, the mooch, was next.

Abby ran her fingers over some weird paper decoration that was looked like a pacifier made from a paper fan. “Of course, I will.” She turned a beaming smile on the team. “Did you guys bring everything I’d need?”

“Hells yeah.” Pike lifted a fist and punched the air.

Declan leveled the full weight of his glare on Pike and then turned it on Birch. “Sweetheart, have we forgotten that the team found you because they chipped you like a house cat?”

Thankfully, that brought Abby’s happy feelings back under control and she joined Declan’s glaring.

She returned to his side and crossed her arms. “Well?”

They hadn’t been mated long, but Declan knew that tone. Hell, all of them knew that tone and the team flinched as one.

Birch rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d like you to remember you’d just been kidnapped. And your mate works for Shifter Operations Command. You’re at risk just by being his mate plus you pissed off Unified Humanity. It was a strategic decision.”

“Uh-huh.” Abby being pissed was so much better than him raging. Those two syllables had everyone flinching again. “A ‘strategic decision,’ right.” she did air quotes. “Was this ‘strategic decision,’” air quotes again, “somehow rated as top secret information? Since when did SHOC make decisions— “

“Not SHOC,” Birch shook his head. “Me.” He tapped his chest. “You’re Declan’s mate and Declan is family. That makes you family.”

“And no one fucks with family.” They all finished Birch’s mantra—Declan included.

Declan stared at Abby and he spied her lower lip trembling. “Birch,” he growled at his boss. “You’re making her cry.” Abby sniffled. Fuck. Crying couldn’t be good for the baby. “Fix it.”

Another tear snaked down her cheek. “No,” she shook her head. “It’s a good cry.”

Declan grunted. He figured “good cry” was a crock of shit. It was probably a chick trick. He’d stop being worried and suddenly he’d be called an insensitive asshole.

“You guys,” she sobbed and moved toward the center of the room, arms wide for a hug. “You’re so sweet.”

The team had a good sense of self-preservation because none of ‘em approached her. He snared Abby and drew her into his arms. “I’ll take their hugs, sweetheart, and pass ‘em along.”

Maybe. Never.

Abby tipped her head back and rested her chin on his chest as she sniffled. “They’re throwing us a baby shower.”

“Uh-huh.” He gathered a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “They also inserted a tracker in you and then used that to invade the tiny bit of peace I tried to create for us.”

“It was for a good reason,” Birch mumbled.

“It was for a good reason.” Abby echoed and damn the woman for giving him sad kitty eyes.

“Abby,” he sighed, fighting the knowledge that he’d been beaten by pink and blue decorations and a pair of sad kitty eyes.

“We brought cake.” Ethan spoke up. “With buttercream icing.”

“They brought cake with buttercream icing.” Tears of happiness filled her eyes. They’d pushed his mate’s sugary-sweet button.

He slumped his shoulders. “Can I kick their asses later?” He raised his eyebrows and then shot a glare at the guys. “And later we’ll discuss boundaries.”

“How about the one that should have kept you from drugging us?” Birch drawled. The bear didn’t look too upset, but Declan figured he’d still face an ass whipping the next time they trained.

He’d suffer the consequences, and he hadn’t even gotten laid.

“We could go back to the one about chipping Abby like a pet.” Declan drawled in return.

“Better than that, we could talk about why your dick is still hanging out. Because that’s making me lose my appetite.” Cole grumbled.

Declan tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Is this how it’s gonna be for the rest of our lives?”

Abby leaned into him, her forehead pressed to his chest. Her shoulders shook and the sweet scent of her happiness flooded the room.

But it wasn’t his mate that answered. It was the team.

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

“Unless you get a security system Grant can’t hack.”

“You could change your identities.”

“Wait nine months. Might as well get the baby a different identity at the same time.”

Yeah, apparently, this was his life now. His team. His family. His mate.

And the small life she carried inside her.

~~*~~

Did you miss out on the crazy meeting of Declan and Abby? Want more of the SHOC guys getting growly with each other? Check out WOLF’S MATE! Keep reading for an excerpt…

Wanna say “screw it” and grab WOLF’S MATE now? Head here to grab the first book in the Shifter Rogues series!

Chapter One

A few minutes past eight and Declan Reed couldn’t take his eyes off the windows in the building across the street.

“You remember our shift ended two hours ago, right?” Cole drawled. The pain-in-the-ass tiger shifter was his partner for this operation. Eh, the dick was his partner in most operations.

Declan ignored the man.

Their shift had ended at six, and the other men on Shifter Operations Command Team One, Ethan and Grant, had taken over, but Declan couldn’t force himself to leave. He couldn’t force his wolf to leave.

Not while she still occupied the building.

Abby Marie Carter. Twenty-eight years old and five feet eight inches of tempting cougar shifter. She had long golden hair with a hint of a curl at the ends, bright blue eyes, and curves that made his palms tingle with the need to stroke every one of them.

“Not that I’m against keeping my eyes on a nice ass,” Cole continued. “But since neither of us is getting in her panties, I don’t see the point.”

The tiger was a good ally in a tight spot and handy with a block of explosives. Declan would trust him at his back on any assignment. But having faith in the man didn’t mean his wolf was okay with Cole thinking about Abby or her panties.

“Fuck off, Cole.”

“We’ve been watching this place for four days and you’ve barely slept. Do you want to go through another psych evaluation? Because ‘obsessive behavior’”—Cole formed air quotes with his fingers—“is a sure-as-shit way to end up on the doc’s couch.”

“Do you feel like being thrown out a window?” Declan pulled his attention from the building across the street and leveled a glare on the tiger shifter. “Because ‘dickish behavior’”—

he formed air quotes, mimicking Cole—“is a sure-as-shit way to end up hitting the pavement headfirst.”

“Play nice, kids.” A third voice joined their conversation—their team alpha—his order transmitted through the com device each member of the team wore in their ear. “Tighten up.”

Declan glowered at Cole and his partner did the same to him, but they kept their mouths shut. Birch was a hard-ass bear shifter, and when he spoke, they all did their damnedest to listen.

Sometimes it happened. Sometimes it didn’t.

The men of SHOC Team One weren’t known for their respect for authority, and they sure as hell hadn’t been recruited because they played well with others.

“Aw, Birch. He started it…” Cole whined in his best impression of a five-year-old.

Declan rolled his eyes, tuning out his partner’s voice while he refocused on Abby.

Technically, their target was FosCo, the multinational company headquartered across the street. Except from the moment Abby walked into FosCo’s lobby four days ago, he’d had a hard time tearing his attention from her. Staring at the cougar shifter was a lot more fun than watching the other staffers.

No one else popped in earbuds while they worked. They didn’t get up from their chairs to stretch and add a little shake of their ass. They definitely didn’t kick off their shoes and dance when the building emptied and no one was watching.

Abby did. She appeared professional when she walked into the office building every morning. Her blond hair was usually twisted in some girly knot that he wanted to run his claws through, and she wore a tight skirt suit with a pair of low heels. She fit right in with all the others in FosCo’s headquarters.

Even if she wasn’t a FosCo employee…or even human.

According to the file they’d compiled, she’d been employed by the accounting firm Ogilve, Piers, and Patterson for six years, landing the job straight out of college after earning her bachelor’s degree. She still worked toward her master’s as she studied for the CPA exam. Smart.

Dedicated. A hard worker if her schedule was anything to go by. In at seven thirty every morning and out at nine thirty every night. In bed by eleven. His knowledge of her sleeping habits wasn’t something he shared with the others.

“Obsessive behavior” and all that shit.

The team still wasn’t sure what she was doing at FosCo, but Declan found he cared less and less about the reason as each hour passed. He just liked looking at her.

“Declan, you listening?” Cole’s deep growl pulled his attention from Abby again.

The asshole wanted to lose his tongue before Declan threw him out the window.

“What?” he snapped.

“Guys.” Cole groaned. “He’s already pussy whipped even though he’s never gonna get any.”

Declan would tell the man to fuck off—again—but he figured more was called for at this point. He didn’t let his attention stray as he reached to his left and wrapped his fingers around an unopened can of soda. His next action was a blur—a single fluid move—as he whipped it at Cole’s head.

Unfortunately, Cole’s reflexes rivaled Declan’s, and he snatched the can from the air. The tiger popped the top and guzzled the soda down in a couple swallows before crushing the container in one hand and tossing it over his shoulder.

“Thanks, man. I was thirsty.” Cole grinned, but there was something else in the tiger’s gaze. The man’s body language said he was at ease, but the flicker of yellow in Cole’s eyes revealed the feral beast just under the surface.

“Cole…” Birch growled over the com.

“I’d like the record to show that Cole is the one causing shit today.” Grant, the other werewolf on the team, broke in. “It ain’t me.”

The crunch of chips and the smack of Grant’s lips followed his words. The wolf was eating again. The man’s stomach was a bottomless pit. Grant claimed junk food kept his mind sharp, which was a necessity as the team’s tech operative.

“Or me.” Ethan, lion shifter and genius with transportation, spoke up as well. Then he popped his gum, which had Birch growling some more. Ethan had what the doc called an “oral fixation.” Declan knew better. Ethan just liked annoying Birch, and someone popping his gum while talking over the com pissed him off.

The alpha bear liked them to at least pretend to be professional like the goody-goody council Trackers, but that wasn’t SHOC Team One. Declan wasn’t sure why the bear shifter even bothered. Their backgrounds were varied, but they all shared a few traits—they were loners, reveled in pissing people off, and had a penchant for breaking the law.

All right, laws.

Violate enough of ’em and the council would send their Trackers after a shifter. Break those guys well enough and a shifter was given the choice between council punishment or “using their evil powers for good” with SHOC.

Declan’s team was the best of the bad.

“Can someone remind me when I get to shoot someone?” Declan broke into their

bickering.

“Or blow something up?” Cole added hopefully.

Birch sighed, and Declan pictured the big bear shifter closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Does no one remember the mission objective?”

Declan grunted and repeated the words from memory. “Observe. Confirm rumors.

Eliminate the threat.”

They were supposed to report in to SHOC headquarters, too, but in their tight group, they tended to get things done first and tell higher-ups about it later.

Right now Declan was ready to skip to the elimination step. After he got Abby out of there, of course. His wolf bristled at the idea of anything happening to the little she-cat.

“Get paid,” Ethan tacked on. “I’ve gotta pay for that new Porsche in the garage.”

“Exactly,” Birch reminded them. “Right now we’re still observing.”

Cole grunted. “Observing is boring as fuck.”

“We can’t go in there and shoot everything to shit until we can definitively tie FosCo to Unified Humanity,” Birch reminded them.

Unified Humanity was the oldest, largest anti-shifter organization in existence, bent on seeing shifters destroyed, even though the general population didn’t know of their kind. Declan couldn’t remember the whole story of its formation. It had something to do with a shifter wanting to mate a human woman back in the 1700s. Her transition had gone sideways, and when the dust had settled, she was dead and her family was out for blood. That one event was the catalyst for Unified Humanity’s existence and the destruction they constantly wrought on his people.

“We could sneak in there and pop off a few rounds…” Declan’s wolf yipped at the possibility. It’d been a while since they’d gotten to enjoy some large-scale destruction.

“No.” Birch’s voice was hard and deep, the bear’s presence pushing forward to make its wishes known. “Quit whining like a bunch of teenagers and—”

“Looks like our kitty is about to get up and shake her tail.” Grant sounded way too excited about Abby’s nightly office-dancing habits.

Declan pushed to his feet, giving his left ear a double tap to shut off the com and silence the chatter of his team. He didn’t want their voices filling his head. He was off duty.

“I’ll see you later,” he murmured to Cole, and ignored the tiger’s cackling laughter.

Declan strode from the room, steps silent on the worn hallway carpet. They’d set up in an empty building across from FosCo. It’d been repossessed by the bank and sat empty for months.

He and Cole watched from the top floor while Grant and Ethan had settled in on the seventh.

Ethan had a thing about the number seven. Declan had a thing about being on top.

This time of night he liked the roof—cool air, soft breeze, and a better view of Abby.

He pushed open the exit door at the end of the hall, tromped into the stairwell, and took the concrete steps two at a time until he reached door to the roof. He nudged the security door, broken panel swinging out, and trod onto the graveled surface. His boots crunched over the small rocks and debris, leaves and sticks dropped by birds snapping beneath his feet.

The night air rushed forward, the chilled breeze bathing him in the briny scent of the nearby ocean. He’d been locked up in that room for more than fourteen hours and it felt good to be outside.

And a little closer to Abby.

Declan followed the same path as he had the four nights prior, moving carefully over the flat roof to the brick railing. He threw one leg over the side, straddling the twelve-inch-wide concrete, and settled in to watch the one bit of brightness in his life.

Abby.

She kicked off her shoes, black pumps tumbling across the worn carpet and into the darkness beneath the desk. Then she pushed to her feet and nudged the office chair away. Her hair was next—she tugged on whatever held that uptight knot in place. Golden strands tumbled down her back, a little bounce now that they were freed. She shrugged, and her midnight jacket slipped down her arms to reveal the pale, snug blouse underneath.

All those curves…

Curves he dreamed about when he managed to convince himself he wasn’t a violent piece of shit who didn’t deserve to even think about her.

Chapter Two

Abby’s cougar tolerated being stationary during working hours—cats were nocturnal creatures, after all. At night her cat was ready to play, hunt, chase…basically, anything but sit on her ass and stare at numbers.

Which was why she had her evening playlist that included “O.P.P.” by Naughty by Nature as well as “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees. She popped in her Bluetooth earbuds and snatched her smartphone. A few button presses and the opening beats of one of her favorite songs filled her ears.

Then came a shake of her hips, a little jiggle, jiggle, jiggle of her ass, and she belted out the opening lines of “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls. She sang about friends, a lover, and zigazig ah…There were also a couple lines about lovers and giving, and she decided she’d like to have someone giving her something…

Something naughty and dirty and—and Abby’s cat swatted at her, the inner animal hissing long and loud. Her cat didn’t want Abby’s mind to stray to sex if she refused to do anything about their dry spell. The feline knew her human half wouldn’t leave work for at least another hour.

The cougar didn’t project any other thoughts or emotions. She merely rose to her feet, presented her back to Abby, and then plopped back down on her ass. Natural house cats knew how to ignore their owners, but those kitties had nothing on a shifter’s inner animal.

Nothing.

Abby ignored the animal and shook her ass a little more. Shake, shake, wiggle, wiggle, jiggle, jiggle… She even did a little “raising the roof,” followed by a spin just before she stumbled and finally collapsed in the nearby office chair.

“Whew.” She panted out a quick breath and then another before drawing air deep into her lungs and releasing it slowly. She slumped in her seat and nudged the ground, pushing and jerking until she was back in place in front of her laptop.

“It’s Friday. You just have to make it through tonight,” she murmured to her cougar, and it replied with a low grumble. “I’ll let you play a little on Palm Island this weekend and then Monday it’s back to regular hours at O.P.P.”

Not to be confused with one of her favorite songs. This O.P.P. referred to the accounting firm—and her employer—Ogilve, Piers, and Patterson.

The cougar huffed, still a hint annoyed, but Abby also sensed the little flick of the cat’s tail and the tremor of excitement that flowed through her furred body. The small island just off the coast of Port St. James, South Carolina, was a nature preserve—no humans allowed and nothing but natural animals running wild. Abby’s cougar could safely stretch her legs, take a swim, and chase the island residents.

She leaned forward in the chair and grasped the edge of the desk, pulling herself back into place in front of her laptop. She popped out her earbuds, tossed them into the bottomless pit of her purse, and turned off her music, ready to focus on her job once more.

A job she loved…most of the time. While her cat reveled in the hunt for live prey, Abby’s human half enjoyed the puzzles that came with accounting. She checked and cross-checked transactions, hunted for unbalanced entries, and scoured records for improperly supported payments.

Accounting was Abby’s kung fu, and it was strong.

The cougar snorted at her butchered movie quote.

Brushing off the cougar’s flare of anger, she snatched her pencil and the stacks of printouts she’d gathered, diving back into her audit. Her—not their—audit. A company the size of FosCo needed a double-digit team, not one woman, but apparently a surface audit was enough to appease the private shareholders. It wasn’t her place to ask. It was her place to work and get paid. Abby ran her finger down the nearest page, comparing it to the spreadsheet displayed on her monitor.

That’s there. And that’s there. And that’s…

She stopped and stared at the printout—a copy of a recent bank statement—and

swallowed hard while she replayed conversations she’d had with the FosCo president recently.

“It’s nothing but a small account we haven’t taken the time to close,” Eric Foster had said. “Don’t even bother with it. It’s nothing.”

Abby gulped and kept her eyes on the account’s activity.

In Abby’s world, two plus two equaled four. Adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing…there were rules in numbers. As an accountant, she lived and died by them. Mainly because if she didn’t do her job right, she didn’t get paid, which meant she couldn’t eat. It was amazing how things strung together like that.

Two plus two did not equal five hundred million dollars.

Five. Hundred. Million. Dollars.

Poof. Gone.

She stared at the screen, the digits swimming before her eyes.

It would have been fine if she’d found any type of notation in the client’s files, but there was nothing. When money shuffled through accounts with nary a mention anywhere…

This was bad. So very, very bad. So many bads in so many languages, and it made her wish she’d taken a few foreign language classes in high school just so she could use them now.

Abby’s fingers flew over the laptop’s keyboard, entering the password that granted her access to her accounting firm’s server. She navigated the file structure with ease, digging deeper into the electronic system. After each audit, every piece of paper the staff scribbled on was scanned and uploaded. Ten years from now the partners at Ogilve, Piers, and Patterson did not want to have to question an employee and hear the words “I wrote it on this yellow sticky…”

Apparently, yes, that’d happened. Coincidentally, it’d been Abby’s predecessor, who was now retired and sunning herself in lovely South Florida. But the moral of the story was…

“Martha, where the hell did you save your notes?” Abby murmured, hunting through folder after folder until, “Bingo.” She’d found Martha’s chicken-scratch scrawl—on a scanned yellow sticky, of course—listing every password the president of FosCo used, both personal and professional. The money had to be sitting somewhere, right? “You are a goddess among women, lady.”

It didn’t take long to bring up Gold Key Bank’s website and even less time to log in and find…

Her missing five hundred million dollars. And then some.

She also saw where other large amounts came in and went out to…She clicked on the details for one of the most recent wire transfers—the name of the destination account holder was required when performing wires—and discovered…

She read the words. Then read them again. She skimmed them a third time and still couldn’t wrap her mind around what she saw.

The cougar did, though. At least enough to push its way forward and fight for control.

Goose bumps rose along Abby’s arms, and her cheeks stung while her fingertips throbbed with pain. To a casual observer she was immobile, but her inner cougar was going batshit. It paced in her mind and snarled, urging her to get the hell out of the high-rise office building.

The beast recognized something was wrong and they needed to go. Now. They needed to flee before they became prey.

Which was a possibility considering the information displayed on the screen.

The shifter world had their suspicions about FosCo. When conversations surrounding that organization came up, there were also murmurings about where that organization got their funding.

FosCo was one of the names bandied about—a supporter of that organization.

She shook her head and scrambled to find some sense of calm. This wasn’t a kid’s book about wizards, and that organization wouldn’t suddenly appear if she thought of its name.

Eric Foster, holder of the controlling interest in FosCo, was funding Unified Humanity, the organization that had a hate-boner for all shifters. Abby was the first to admit that everyone could rock on with their own inner ball of loathing—Abby wasn’t a huge fan of the president of her homeowners’ association, after all—but Unified Humanity was bad.

No, bad didn’t quite cover UH’s actions. They killed pups and cubs without hesitation, entire families gone with a single bomb. Death and destruction to shifters were their modus operandi. And when the smoke cleared, shifters couldn’t exactly call on human authorities, or the rest of the world would know about their existence. Their secret would be out.

Abby’s breath rushed in and out of her lungs, her heart racing and threatening to burst from her chest. The cougar yowled and scratched, demanding she run.

But…

The cat didn’t want to hear anything about “but” or “first they should” or “it would be a good idea to…”

It. Wanted. To. Run.

Abby assured the cat they would absolutely race from the building, but first…She shoved at the cougar, pushed it to the back of her mind and built a mental wall between her and the beast. The feline would break through at some point and overpower her human half, but the barrier would delay the animal’s possession.

Delay it enough to give her time to dig deeper, find more, and make copies of everything she unearthed.

Unified Humanity had destroyed her life twenty years ago. Now she’d take every snippet of data she could so the shifter council could destroy them.

About the Author

Ex-dance teacher, former accountant and erstwhile collectible doll salesperson, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Celia Kyle now writes urban fantasy, science fiction (as Erin Tate), and paranormal romances for readers who:

1) Like super hunky heroes (they generally get furry)

2) Totally dig beautiful women (who have a few more curves than the average lady)

3) Love laughing in (and out of) bed.

It goes without saying that there's always a happily-ever-after for her characters, even if there are a few road bumps along the way.

Today she lives in Central Florida and writes full-time with the support of her loving husband and two finicky cats. (Who hate each other with a passion unrivaled. What’s up with that?)

Find Celia on the web…

www.celiakyle.com

celia@celiakyle.me

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Copyright © 2017 by Celia Kyle

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.