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Alpha's War: a BAD Alpha Dad Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 7) by Renee Rose, Lee Savino (6)

6

Nash

Sunrise over Temecula is beautiful. So different than San Diego, where the fog tucks in around the coast. I watch it light up the golden hill where I slept behind Denali’s place, casting pink rays against her little cottage and the vineyards below.

Her older neighbor comes out on her porch with her coffee and I go still, so I won’t attract any attention.

My body aches from spending the night on the hard ground without any blankets, but the satisfaction of having watched over my mate and cub trumps all else. I don’t care if I have to spend the rest of my life sleeping on rocks, if it keeps them safe, I’ll do it.

I look back down the hill. Denali’s neighbor has moved inside. I stand up and stretch, then creep a little closer to the cottage. I have to admit, I’m hoping for a glimpse of Denali or Nolan. I may be keeping a respectful distance, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still drawn like a magnet to them. I want to know everything about them—their daily routines, what they eat for breakfast, what television shows they watch.

Movement catches my eye and I see the neighbor’s back on the porch, holding a shotgun. She fires before I can even think.

It’s a warning shot. At least I hope it is. It ricochets off a rock nearby and sends me charging down the hill. “Hey!” I shout at the same time she yells, “Hold it right there.”

I force myself to slow my pace from a run to a brisk stride as I continue to advance. No one shoots a gun off near my family. Not even sixty-year-old ladies wearing flower print gardening smocks.

Denali flies out of her cottage and I snarl at seeing her out, unprotected. My mate requires no protection, though. She takes in her neighbor, then whips around to see me.

Surprisingly, my lion doesn’t want to bleed her. I don’t feel that familiar violence rising up in me. Only the need to protect. Which in this case, requires me to be calm. “Put the gun down,” I order in my best alpha voice. Turns out, it doesn’t matter, because Denali has already sprinted to her neighbor’s and snatched the gun from her hands. I half expect her to turn it on me and cock it, but she empties the barrel before hurling the shotgun into the flowerbed.

When she turns to face me, her eyes are lion-bright and she’s breathing hard.

And damn. She’s wearing the thinnest t-shirt imaginable and those tiny shorts that make her legs look six miles long. She puts her hands on her hips. “What in the hell is going on?”

“Is this him?” the older woman demands as I stride up. Even though the gun’s out of her hands, she still looks prepared to murder me if she has to.

I would take offense, except Denali appears baffled. “Who?”

“The one you been hidin’ from. Is this the boy’s father?”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but Denali’s response doesn’t fit. She splutters, “No! Well—it’s complicated. But regardless, why were you shooting at him?”

“I saw him sneaking around your place. Looks like he’s been there all night.” She turns her narrowed gaze on me. Her eyes are flinty grey to match the steel of her personality. “Were you there all night?”

I nod. No sense in lying. I direct my gaze at Denali. “I can’t leave you unprotected.”

Denali’s gaze warms, but she steps forward and slaps my chest. “Stupid male. You scared the crap out of me and Mrs. Davenfield. And what? You just slept out on the hill? Under the open sky?”

I can’t stop the lazy grin. “Stars were beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as you in those little—”

She cuts me off with another slap to my chest. “All right, Romeo. Let’s get you inside and fed.” She steers me off her neighbor’s wooden porch. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Davenfield. Nothing to worry about. Nash is safe. He’s just worried about someone else showing up and hassling me.”

“And I’m worried about crazy neighbors with shotguns,” I mutter under my breath as we walk away.

“You should be,” Mrs. Davenfield calls to my back. Apparently, her hearing is as sharp as her eyesight. “Sneaking around people’s property at five in the morning is a shootable offense around here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.”

“Looks like you’re the type who knows how to handle a gun, himself.”

I turn to get a better look at Mrs. Davenfield, grateful Denali has her as a watchful neighbor. Not much gets past this woman.

Denali loops her hand through my elbow and tugs me forward. “Come on, Nash. I’ll make you breakfast. You like Canadian bacon?”

My stomach grumbles. “Love it.” I’m surprised at how intense a pleasure it is to have Denali offer to cook for me. I’m suddenly hard as a rock and wondering if Nolan is still in bed.

The minute we’re inside her door, I snake an arm around her waist and pull her back up against my straining cock. My teeth graze her shoulder. “Promise me something,” I rumble in her ear.

Her sweet cinnamon scent fills the air. “What?” Her voice is husky.

I slip my hand between her legs and cup her mons. “Don’t ever go outside your house dressed like this again.”

“Or what?” There’s a taunt in her voice and it sends my desire into overdrive.

I slide one hand up to squeeze her breast while I stroke my fingers over the seam of her shorts, pressing it into her slit.

“I’ll have to kill any male who looks at you, for one thing.”

Her head falls back on my chest and she rocks her hips forward, pushing into my hand.

“And then I’d have to punish you for making me crazy with jealousy.”

She brings her hand to cover mine, directing my fingers to push harder over her clit. “Oh yeah?”

Damn. The husk in her voice nearly blinds me with lust. But Nolan must be sleeping just a few feet away.

“Let’s get in the shower,” Denali suggests. Smart female. The sound of the water will drown out her cries.

I propel her forward, not removing my hands from her beautiful body. We jostle into the bathroom and strip our clothes off in record time. She turns to get in and I smack her ass with a loud crack.

“Shh.” She tosses a smile over her shoulder as she climbs in and everything in me lights up.

It’s not just passion—although there’s a mountain of that. I’m also filled with an exuberance, God, maybe even joy. Everything about this moment with Denali fills me up. Sets me free.

It’s like my whole life, I’ve been waiting for this point in time, when I get to laugh and play with my mate. Fuck her senseless. Eat breakfast with her afterward.

I can’t believe the intense pleasure of it.

I step into the shower after her, rolling a condom on my erection. I want to take my time. Soap her, wash her hair.

But it’s an impossibility.

I flatten her against the wall, and my hands cup her ass. Water soaks us, streams down her face, wetting her eyelashes and lips. Even with it, her scent fills the room, sending me into animal drive.

My kiss is hard and demanding. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, teeth bump teeth.

Her legs lift to hook around my waist and my cock is right where I want it to be. I don’t even have to use my hand to guide it in. I find her entrance and push forward, filling her with a powerful thrust.

She gasps and clutches my shoulders.

“Are you okay, beautiful?”

“Uhn.” She rubs her tits against my torso, the hard points of her nipples dragging through my chest hair. Her hips snap against mine, urging me deeper.

“You want more, baby?”

“I want it, Nash,” she breathes in my ear.

I lose all control then, helplessly pumping into her. She rocks to meet my thrusts, taking me deeper, meeting and matching my rhythm.

“Nash.”

Every time I hear my name on her lips, I go wilder. A growl starts up in my chest.

She slaps her hand over my mouth to stop it from coming out, all the while riding my cock, her beautiful tits bouncing and swaying.

I slip one hand between her ass cheeks to press against her back hole and she makes a desperate sound. Her arms tangle around my neck, and she uses them to leverage herself faster, taking me even deeper.

I massage her anus as I plow into her and she comes, her head thrown back, mouth open on a silent scream.

The squeeze of her muscles around my cock sends me hurtling to my own finish. I fuck her hard and fast, the slap of our wet bodies echoing against the tile until I, too, reach climax and come.

The satisfaction is cellular. My entire body flushes with it and yet, as I ease out, it’s still not enough.

I want to claim her again.

And again.

But I can’t right now. I settle for kissing her wet, open mouth. “I would sleep a thousand nights on your rocky hill if it meant this was my reward every morning.”

She ducks her head, blushing and steps out of the shower. I feel her loss acutely, but I take a moment to do a quick soap lather and rinse before I turn off the water and get out.

When I come out, she has a towel wrapped around her and her hands on her hips. “You can’t sleep out on that hill, Nash.”

My jaw sets. “I’m watching over you.” I say it with finality. Nothing will budge me from this. She’s my mate. She has a cub. They are mine to protect until the end of my days.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head before she leaves the bathroom, but I have a feeling she knows she can’t change my mind.

I pull on my clothes and step out at the same time she exits her bedroom wearing a short, flowered dress.

I growl my approval, earning an upward tilt of her lips.

She heads to the kitchen and starts pulling out food. “You make the coffee, I’ll make the food.”

I nod and get to work, all the while admiring her ease in the kitchen. Thank fuck she’s a shifter. She knows how much I eat. She opens two packages of Canadian bacon and fries the slabs of meat up at the same time she whisks together pancake mix and sets the table.

“Good morning, bud,” Denali chirps when Nolan appears in the kitchen.

He scoots behind his mother’s leg, playing shy while watching me. I long to tousle his curls and tickle the shyness right out of him, but I don’t want to overstep.

“Nash came over for breakfast. Want to help me make his pancakes?”

The little boy nods and she pulls a stepstool over to the stove. Nolan climbs up on it to supervise. She gives him blueberries to drop into the pancake batter, helping him make a smiley face. I watch the two of them together, contentment coursing through my veins.

I could watch this for the rest of my life. Except I’d like to give Denali more cubs. A whole den of them.

I shake those aberrant thoughts out of my head. This picture of domesticity is doing something strange to me. I need to remember I don’t belong here. My lion’s a killer and he’s not happy unless he’s fighting. A shifter like that has no business being around children.

“How long is he staying, momma?” Nolan asks.

She darts a glance at me and clears her throat. “Um, just for breakfast, honey. He was just checking in on us to make sure we’re safe, but now he knows we are.”

A shard of glass pierces my chest and lodges right in my heart.

But I already knew not to get comfortable here.

I definitely don’t belong with them.

* * *

Denali

I have a smile on my face as I put away laundry that afternoon. I think it’s been there all day. Even Nolan notices. “You’re fun, momma,” he said after I spun him around for the fifteenth time. “I like when you’re happy.”

I don’t even want to think about what’s made me so cheerful.

Morning sex with a lion?

Check.

Being watched over by a vigilant soldier who doesn’t give a damn about his personal comfort?

Double-check.

Knowing he’ll probably be there again tonight?

Yeah, triple check.

I can’t let him sleep out on the hill again.

So what am I going to do? Let him in? Invite him to stay?

The thought sends my heart skittering into overdrive. But what will I tell Nolan? How long before he gets attached?

I find it fascinating that once again, my animal instincts didn’t alert me to his presence. A shifter creeping around outside my cottage and I slept like a baby. In fact, I think I rested better last night than I have in years. It’s like my lioness knew he was on watch and I could finally let my guard down.

I let Nolan fill the loneliness that ate at me after I escaped Data-X. I made myself believe I didn’t want or need anyone else. But I do.

My phone rings. I check the screen. Mrs. Davenfield. My landlady and nosy neighbor. I sigh. She probably wants to talk about why Nash was hanging around this morning.

“Hi, Mrs. Davenfield.”

“He’s out front.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nolan’s dad. Sitting in a car watching the house.”

I curse, but there’s no upset behind it. In fact, I think my smile’s grown bigger. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

“Want me to call the cops?”

“No, no. Definitely not. He’s not a danger. And Mrs. Davenfield?”

“What is it, hon?”

I peek into the living room where Nolan is watching his favorite show, Curious George, on the television and lower my voice. “Um, don’t say that in front of Nolan, ‘kay? He doesn’t know.”

“O-kaaay.” She drags out the last syllable like she’s hoping I’ll elaborate, but I ignore it.

“Thanks,” I say and hang up before she can ask any questions.

I head outside, an extra swing to my hips as I stride over to Nash’s beat-up Mustang. The windows are down, and his lids drop to half-mast as he watches me.

I lean into his window, catching his chin when his gaze drops to my cleavage. “Still keeping an eye on my place?” There’s a purr in my voice. A seductive quality I don’t even recognize. I never knew I had a temptress in me.

Nash flashes that wicked grin. The one he wore before he spanked me yesterday. My pussy clenches. “Right now, I’m keeping my eye on you,” he drawls.

“Mm hmm. Like what you see?”

“You know I do.”

“Well, you might as well come in. I can’t have you sitting out here in your car or Mrs. Davenfield will get her shotgun again.”

“Yes, she’s had her eye on me. I have to say, I don’t mind you having a protective neighbor.”

My chest squeezes. He genuinely cares about keeping us safe. As a mate should. Nolan must’ve followed me out, because he races toward us now, barreling into my leg and holding it.

“Can you say hi to Nash?” I prompt.

Nash puts out his fist.

Nolan looks at it, confused.

“Fist bump? Put your hand out.” Nolan complies, and Nash gently touches large knuckles to Nolan’s, then taps the top of his fist with his.

Nolan grins and punches Nash’s fist as hard as he can.

“Nolan!” I’m shocked to see my sweet little boy acting aggressive, but Nash loves it.

“Oh you want to tussle?” He scoops our shrieking son up and tickles him.

My chest fills with gooey warmth.

The moment he puts him down, Nolan yells, “More!” and they keep at it while I head to the kitchen to grab us all a glass of fresh squeezed lemonade with basil in it.

* * *

Nash

The sound of Nolan’s laughter does something peculiar to my heart—makes it contract and expand at the same time.

I toss and tickle him until he collapses on the floor, half-moaning, half-laughing.

“Okay,” Denali soothes. “Who wants some lemonade?”

“I do, I do!” Nolan yells, racing forward to take his plastic cup with a lid and straw.

Denali hands me a glass filled with ice and a clear liquid with green herbs floating in it. I take a sip and savor the zing of lemon and some other taste.

“Mmm—what is this?”

“It’s my version of lemonade. I don’t like Nolan to have too much sugar, so I make it with fresh lemons, stevia, and a little basil.”

I gape at her. Smoking hot single mom is also managing to pull a Martha Stewart existence? I drink the refreshing liquid down in three gulps and smack my lips. “That was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

She beams at me. “I’ll get you some more.”

My phone rings and I pull it out. Parker.

“Hey Alpha,” Declan sings out in a lilting brogue.

“Not your alpha,” I mumble for the gazillionth time, watching Nolan pretend not to watch me as he plays with a little train set on the coffee table. I crouch down to help him fix where the track has come apart as a queasy feeling moves through me. Who am I kidding, interacting with this kid? I’m not even fit to be alpha to a bunch of fucked up shifters—how fucking far does that make me from being fit as a dad?

“Did you find her?”

I glance back at Denali, coming in with a fresh glass of lemonade. Her long, sleek legs and elegant line of bare neck make the most mundane movements graceful. “Yeah.”

A cheer greets my words. Not just Declan—it sounds like a roomful of people.

“And? How’d it go?” Parker chimes in.

“You’re on speaker,” Declan informs me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose with a thumb and forefinger. Fuck, my head hurts.

“Alpha? Alpha?”

“Not your alpha,” I growl. Denali shoots me a worried glance and I turn away. I’ve got to get my animal under control.

“You’re in Temecula, right?”

“Yeah,” I answer just as Parker adds, “We’re close. We’re coming to see her.”

“What? No—”

“It’s a party,” Declan crows.

Laurie says in the background. “Can we order pizza?”

“No. Stay where you are,” I order with all the force I can muster.

“Sorry, no can do. Alpha mojo doesn’t work over the phone. Yell at us in person all you want,” Parker says,

“He won’t yell at us,” Declan reasons. “He wants to impress his mate.”

“We’ll be there in ten.”

“How do you know where I am?”

“Laurie bugged your phone,” Parker says.

“See ya soon, Alpha!” Declan shouts and the call goes dead.

Fuck.

“Everything all right?” Denali stands a few steps away, her brow furrowed. I resist the urge to throw the phone and curse.

“Fine. Just... we’re about to get company. Not like that,” I add when she tenses. “Friends of mine. Housemates actually.”

“They called you Alpha.

Fucking shifter hearing.

“I’m not their alpha. They’re not even lions. They’re not fit to be a pack anyway—bunch of rejects. Leftovers from the Data-X experiments.”

She pales. “I see.” When she darts a worried glance at Nolan, the fist in my solar plexus tightens.

“He’s safe, Denali. I give you my word.” For what it’s worth.

She nods, once, and the tightness eases when I realize she believes me.

Twenty minutes later, a white Camaro roars up. I step out onto the porch and Denali and Nolan follow me.

“Brace yourself,” I mutter as Parker, Declan, and Laurie make their way to us. Someone says something to Declan to set him off, because he starts mock punching his companions.

“Not now,” Parker shoves the Irishman into Laurie. The tall, long limbed shifter’s glasses go flying and he almost keels over.

“All right, Jay-sus.” Declan grabs Laurie and helps him retrieve his glasses. “I’ll behave.”

“This is your pack?” Denali asks in disbelief.

“Not mine.” I shake my head.

“Parker.” I point as the grey-headed guy approaches. My fight manager stops in his tracks, but Declan and Laurie keep going, almost bowling him over.

“Declan.” I jab the air, pointing each one out. “Laurie Lawrence.”

“It’s like the three stooges,” Denali murmurs as Parker turns on Declan and Laurie pretends to bash their heads together. “Only one is thin.”

“And they’re shifters,” I agree with a sigh.

Denali sniffs the air, her eyes glinting with her lioness. “What are they?”

“Parker’s a wolf. Well, mostly wolf. Laurie’s a... well, you’ll figure it out. He’s pretty shy. I’m not sure what Declan is.”

“I’m Irish,” Declan offers, grinning wide, showing off crooked canines.

“I’m an owl,” Laurie raises his hand with a sheepish smile. His head twitches like he’s being electrocuted.

Denali sucks in a breath and the scent of cinnamon fills the air.

“Lioness.” Parker eyes her with satisfaction.

A growl rumbles through me, and I move closer to Denali.

“Mom?” says a small voice around our knees. “I thought we couldn’t talk about our animals.”

Denali whirls, crouching to grip her son’s shoulders. “That’s right baby. That’s safest. Go inside and play now, while momma talks to Nash’s friends.”

Nolan trundles back inside, but the three newcomers got a good look at him. Parker and Laurie’s mouths hang wide open.

Declan makes a choking sound. “Holy fecking—”

“Stop swearing,” I growl. “No foul language, no inappropriate topics. Understand?”

Laurie nods vigorously, eyes huge behind his thick glasses.

“Is that…?” Parker points and I swat his hand. The boy isn’t a freak show. Nolan still watches us through the screen door, curiosity written on his face. A bunch of strange guys showing up to ogle him—this kid is gonna be traumatized.

“He looks just like you,” Laurie murmurs.

I can’t help whirling to see if it’s true. On further study, the line of Nolan’s jaw, his nose, the gold tints in his hair—he does look like me.

My organs seem to shift and rearrange inside me.

“Nash? What’s going on?” Parker asks.

“This is Denali. My mate.”

She shakes off my hand. “Our mating doesn’t count,” she tells the crew. “It happened under duress.”

My lion growls again.

Parker sniffs the air, which is tinged with our mingled spice scent. No shifter can come close to Denali and not know I’ve marked her. “I think it still counts.”

“It’s complicated,” I say, and Denali shoots me a grateful look.

“Understood,” Declan says. “For a simple soldier, Nash is pretty complicated.”

I glare at him to no effect.

“How did you all meet?” Denali asks.

“Cage fighting,” Parker says. “Shifter style.”

I curse at Denali’s shocked look. This is not how I wanted to break the news to her.

“His lion needs to bleed someone on a regular basis. Almost nightly now, isn’t it?” Declan continues blithely.

“Shut up.”

“I’m Parker, ma’am,” Parker extends a hand. “Manager at The Pit. I arrange Nash’s fights.”

“And Laurie and I bet on them,” Declan says. “We’re bookies, too. Your mate’s made us a lot of money over the past few months.”

“I see. And you’re his pack?”

“He’s our alpha even though he says he’s not,” Laurie says.

“How does that work?” Denali’s brow wrinkles.

“We call him Alpha and he tells us to feck off—hey!” Declan breaks off as Laurie elbows him in the ribs.

“Don’t swear,” the gawky shifter reminds him.

“All right, all right, birdbrain. Jay-sus, your elbows are like daggers.” Grimacing, Declan rubs his chest where Laurie jabbed him.

“Who wants dinner?” Parker rubs his hands together. “Pizza?”

I clear my throat just as Denali says “Actually—”

“Pizza, momma?” Nolan pops out from behind her. “Can I have pizza?”

Denali sighs.

“O’ course, little cub,” Declan declares. “Ya can have all the pizza ya want. What?” he pulls an innocent face as all but Nolan glare at him.

An hour later, we’re sitting in Denali’s living room, ten empty pizza boxes stacked on the porch. Shifters eat a lot. Declan and Parker fight over the last slice.

“So you two only met once before?” Laurie asks. He lounges on the floor, his long form stretched out where he’s been playing with Nolan for the past twenty minutes. He isn’t twitching so badly.

“Yes,” Denali says. She and I share a couch, and every nerve in me is alive, wanting to scoot a few inches to the right and touch her.

“You probably want some time alone then,” Parker speaks up.

“Aye, that’s a grand idea,” Declan says. “We can babysit—”

“No,” Denali and I almost shout together.

“All right,” Declan puts his hands up. “Jay-sus. Ya think I offered to feck—”

“No swearing,” Laurie and Parker both admonish. Parker slaps Declan’s head.

“No hitting either,” Denali adds.

Muttering, Declan tromps out to the porch.

I rub my forehead. “I’m just grateful he didn’t bring his hooch.”

“Oh, he brought it,” Laurie says. “We just wouldn’t let him bring it into the house.”

“Go keep an eye on him,” I order. Laurie follows him.

Denali rises and reaches for Nolan. “All right baby, time for bed.”

“But I’m not sleepy,” the boy says with a yawn.

“I know.” She herds him to the hall, pausing a moment to glance back at me, a question in her eyes.

“I’ll wait for you,” I say. After a moment of hesitation, she nods.

For a while I sit and listen to her getting Nolan ready for bed. His high voice protesting, her beautiful murmur. Simple, domestic sounds that should put me at ease. I rub my eyes. What the hell am I doing here?

As I head to the porch, I realize my lion is still quiet. He’s been that way since I bedded Denali. For once he’s relaxed, but I know it’s only a matter of time before the flashbacks return. Before my lion needs to make someone bleed.

“Good mate you got there, boss,” Parker says as I head over to the white Camaro. He and Declan are smoking. A flask sits by Declan.

“Gotta fight tomorrow at The Pit,” the wolf adds. “You want me to move it?”

Trying to think of an answer, I stare at the slope behind her house, where I chased and conquered her. I’ve lived so long with my lion rampaging, I don’t know any other life.

“We should go.” Declan hops off the car hood, tossing his cigarette to the ground. “You and the missus got a lot of stuff to work out.”

Understatement. As the guys pile into the car, I clench my fists. Usually, they’re torn up from a fight. All healed now. Usually that’s my cue to return to The Pit and pound someone until I don’t feel anything.

Shifter fights, flashbacks, and an unstable lion. What life can I possibly offer a mate and a son?

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Parker says. “Unless we don’t.” A half wave, and they pull out of the drive, and I realize as much as I pretended to resent their visit, the messed-up crew of shifters was the only thing distracting me from my problem.

* * *

Denali

“Are your friends going to spend the night? Like a sleepover?”

“No, baby.”

“That’s too bad. They were nice. Especially the bird-one.” Adorable in footie pajamas, Nolan climbs into bed. I scoot behind him to read him a story. He insists on reading parts of the book himself, and I take the chance to cuddle him and breathe in the baby shampoo scent clinging to his curls. I used to fall asleep like this, coming in after a day in the fields where I worked with the other migrant workers, relieving the babysitter and taking the precious moments to hold my boy.

Does Nash even realize what it’s been like, raising a son and trying to survive? My lioness is ready to be with him, but it’ll take more than an afternoon at a playground and a pizza dinner for him to prove to me he should be a part of my son’s life.

“Momma,” Nolan asks in a sleepy voice, “is Nash my dad?”

I try not to stiffen. “What makes you say that?”

“Laurie said I look like him.”

I take a big breath and pray Nolan falls asleep in the next two seconds.

“Is he?”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. I don’t want to tell him. Don’t want his little heart to be broken like mine was if things don’t work out between Nash and me. But I can’t lie. I asked Nash to and it didn’t sit right with me. “Yes, sweetie. He is. He was off fighting for our country and he never knew I had you, otherwise he would’ve been here for you.” That’s pretty close to the truth. Fighting for his life, not his country, but it was his country’s fault.

“Is he going to stay with us?”

“I don’t know yet. Nash and momma are still trying to figure things out.”

“I want a dad.”

I suck in a breath at the sudden pain. I thought I was doing fine by my son, being a mom and a dad for him. I guess I was wrong. “I know, baby,” I squeeze him tighter. “We’ll see what happens. In the meantime, momma loves you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” He pauses a moment, and adds, “I love you, momma.”

“That’s what matters. I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

Nash

The scent of cinnamon hits the room before Denali. I rise from the couch, brushing crumbs from my shirt.

“You’re still here.”

“I told you I’d wait for you,” I say. “Besides, you didn’t offer me dessert.” I lift the lid off the cookie jar and take another cookie.

“You’re worse than Nolan.”

“These are so good, I could eat them all. You want one?”

“Hell, yes.” She leans against the counter and goes to grab the cookie I offer. I shake my head and bring it to her mouth. Blue-grey leaps into her eyes as she lets me feed it to her.

“These are your favorite, right? Peanut butter.”

“Nolan’s too, now. I make them all the time.”

“He’s a good kid.”

Her face softens. “The best.”

Slowly, I feed her another cookie. Her eyes dart over my face, filled with longing. There’s a little furrow between her brow, though, when I’m done.

“Nash, what are we—”

I lower my head and stop her words with my kiss.

* * *

Denali

“Favorite cookie?” Nash asks. We both sit on the cot, picking at the food the guards sent in.

“Peanut butter.”

Nash raises a brow. “Peanut butter cookies,” he murmurs.

“They’re easy to make, and almost every kitchen has the ingredients.”

The door swings open and I slam my body back to the wall, fear crawling up my arms. What a cowardly, cringing creature I’ve become.

Nash does the opposite. I peer past his huge body as he faces the triangle of guards.

“You’re supposed to breed her,” one orders.

“I already did.” Nash’s mild voice is at odds with the violent tension in every muscle of his body. He had—after turning my body to molten lava with his tongue between my legs.

“Boss wants you to do it again.” Two of the guards raise batons that crackle with electricity. I suppress a whimper and press myself further into the corner.

“You’re upsetting her.”

“We’ll do more than that if you don’t do as you’re told. You both know what to do.”

“Get out,” Nash growls.

The guards are smart enough to keep their eyes glued to Nash. He’s fearsome, even in human form. I’ll bet his lion would make the guards pee themselves. They think they’re invincible with their electric wands, though. “You gonna do what you’re supposed to, or should we do the job for you?” The taunting guard unzips his pants.

A roar breaks from Nash’s throat and he starts to charge. The first guard blanches and backs away, but his friends are all too ready to wade in with their shock sticks. Nash doesn’t stand a chance.

“Stop,” I scream and scramble to his side. “Don’t hurt him. We’ll do it. Just…”

Nash’s shoulders heave with the exertion of keeping his lion in check. His eyes glow a lethal yellow. “Leave us.” His voice is thick. “Before I tear you apart.”

“Get on with it,” the guard snaps, and the door slams shut.

Nash’s head bows, his fists clenched at his side. So powerful. So helpless.

I’ve only known him a few hours, but I can’t stand to see him like this.

I touch his shoulder.

“Denali... I—”

“It’s all right,” I stop his apology. It’s not his fault. None of it is. I reach for him and run my hand down the hard line of his back, my body heating at the feel of the muscles bunched under my palm.

“Thank you for protecting me.”

He turns, and I almost flinch at the fire burning in his eyes. He wants me. Again. I blink and let the lioness out. Desire pours through me in slow, heated waves.

Nash rumbles with approval—somewhere between a roar and a purr. He cups my nape and claims my mouth, his kiss hungry. Insistent. He’s already used his clever tongue between my legs, brought me to orgasm and fit his length inside me. This time is different, though.

I realize now how much he’d held back before.

Nash’s appreciation for my cooking shouldn’t please me so much. This isn’t the 1950s. I’m not my grandmother, back in New Orleans, showing love through food. I never thought I’d want to win a man’s heart through his stomach. But I love the way he acts like the simplest things I’ve made are a rare delicacy. Kinda how he treats me.

He claims my mouth, much like he did that first night, with a ferocity that makes my knees go weak. It’s like he can’t get enough of me. Or his very survival depends on keeping our lips locked.

That first night I suppose it did.

Maybe it still does—for Nash, anyway. His lion seems calmer, his bruises and cuts all healed.

There’s a power to knowing I healed him.

I remember my grandmother used to say, “Don’t ever use your lady parts for gain, Denali. They’re for healing.” I never realized she meant it literally.

Right now, I’m dying to give Nash another healing.

I nip his lower lip and work the button on his jeans.

“Careful, baby,” he rasps. “You sure you want me off my leash?” He pulls my shirt off over my head.

I arch a brow at him. “Pretty sure I can handle you.”

The corners of his mouth tilt into a lopsided smile. “I doubt it, baby.” He backs me up against the kitchen counter and turns me to face it. When he grabs a wooden spoon from the utensil bin, my heart starts to thud with excitement. This is the side of Nash I crave. The dominant alpha taking charge.

As much as I appreciate his respect for my boundaries, in my dreams he never takes no for an answer. Never lets me push him away. He demands his rightful place in my life. But those are just fantasies.

Nash taps my ass lightly with the spoon. He’s testing me. Waiting for a reaction.

I look over my shoulder at him. “Are you going to actually use that spoon, or should—”

He moves swiftly, pinning my hands behind my back and forcing my chest down on the counter. I laugh as he smarts my ass with the wooden spoon. I’m a shifter, so pain is fleeting. In this moment, it registers only as stimulus, augmenting my desire.

Nash nudges my feet wider. “Spread those long, lovely legs. Show me the place I’m going to make sore tonight.”

I bare my teeth and growl at his dirty talk, my core turning molten.

Nash brings the spoon up between my legs, spanking my pussy. I jerk against his hold, not that I really want to be free. It’s intense, but wonderful. Pain that blooms right away into pleasure.

“How do you think it will feel to take your mate’s big lion cock after your pussy has been thoroughly spanked?”

I seriously don’t know how I keep from passing out. I’m hot and dizzy with lust, frantic to get my shorts off. To remove all the barriers between us.

“Why don’t you show me?” I dare.

He keeps spanking my pussy with firm taps of the wooden spoon. Then it suddenly clatters to the floor and he shoves my shorts and panties down my hips. “It’s been hours since I last fucked this pussy,” he says, like that’s way too long. But I remember from our cell he had no shortage of stamina.

He releases my wrists to roll on a condom and I wriggle out of the shorts and panties tangled at my feet. I brace my hands against the kitchen counter and return to my position, feet spread wide, ass out.

Nash slaps my bare ass and I shush him. “Too loud,” I murmur.

“Oh, it’s going to be loud,” he growls right before he impales me with his cock. He covers my mouth on the next thrust. “Because I definitely plan on making you scream.”

My nipples scrape the inside of my bra, hard as diamonds. Nash wraps an arm around my hips to protect them from banging against the counter, all the while rocking me up to my toes with each savage thrust.

“You needed to be claimed by your mate, didn’t you, baby? Did you need a big lion cock to fill you up?” This ungentlemanly side of him is so in contrast to the lion I mated with, yet it turns me on just as much. No—way more.

“Yes.” My lips move against his hand.

I do need it. I need it so badly I’m ready to weep or beg for him to bring me to climax.

His thumb slips into my mouth and I suck on it, hard. He continues to ram into me, slapping my buttocks with his loins, lifting me to my toes with each powerful instroke. I want—no, I need—to take him deeper. Deeper than this position allows.

As if he senses that I’m restless, he pulls out and whirls me around. I cat-attack him—leaping to straddle his waist, arms wrapped around his neck. He stumbles back, eyes glowing with appreciation.

“You need to be on top, my queen?”

I bite his neck savagely. He hits the table and stumbles, then crashes to the floor, careful to keep me on top.

Satisfaction spreads through me. As much as I love when he takes charge, a surge of power rushes through me with the roles reversed. I pin his arms down and he lets me, even though I know he could easily best me. I straddle his hips, lowering myself onto his stiff erection.

“Ride me, little lion. Show me how greedy you are for this cock.” He thrusts his hips up and I gasp when he hits my inner walls.

I snarl as I slide over his thick manhood, dig my nails into his forearms. I grind my clit down on the base of his shaft each time I sweep up.

Nash pants, sweat gathering at his trimmed hairline, but he doesn’t surrender to his own pleasure. He watches me intently, fascination playing over his expression. I feel beautiful. Feral. Wondrous. I’ve never disliked my life as a shifter, but I’m not sure I’ve reveled in it before. In this moment, I wouldn’t trade who I am for anything.

A wild, dangerous beast in the body of a beautiful woman. I am glorious, sensuous power. I am victory.

I am queen of the jungle. Marked mate to Nash.

There’s no denying our bond. Not when I feel what he does to my animal. How he sets me free. Our bodies were made for one another.

Fate may have brought us together in the worst possible way, but he’s mine, and I’m his.

I throw back my head and clench my teeth down on a scream. The moment my muscles start to tighten around Nash’s cock, he throws off my hold on his arms and grips my hips, yanking me down over his cock with enough force to split me.

My eyes roll back in my head at the sheer ecstasy of it. The satisfaction.

Nash closes his mouth breaking off his shout and jacks his hips off the floor, lifting me into the air like I’m riding a bucking bronco.

A breathless laugh tumbles out of me when he collapses, limp, beneath me. I lower my head to kiss him.

* * *

Nash

I caress her powerful legs, the tight curve of her ass. She does the same, running her palms down my pecs with an approving murmur.

“So strong. Fighting suits you.”

“King of the Beasts,” I say. “That’s why that call me in the ring.”

“King,” her eyes light. “So that makes me your queen?”

Catching the nape of her neck, I draw her down for a kiss.

“Shhhh,” she goes quiet and listens and I hold still, my cock still inside her. She relaxes and rocks against me. It’s not Nolan. “Momma radar,” she says with a little smile. “You get it at birth and wake up at the slightest noise every night for the rest of your life.”

I consider this. Will I get some sort of similar dad ability? Or is it too late?

Then she rocks against me and I lose all ability to think.

“I told Nolan you’re his dad.”

I go perfectly still. In fact, I think my heart stops completely. “You did?” I sound choked.

“Yeah. He asked, and I just didn’t feel right lying. I know I asked you not to tell him, and I appreciate you honoring my request. But you don’t have to keep it secret anymore.”

I still don’t know how to breathe. “Yeah? What’d he say?”

“He asked me if you’re going to live here.”

I watch her face closely for signs of what she thinks. What she wants. She’s hard to read. “It’s my duty to protect you whether you choose to let me stay or not.”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you here out of duty or desire?”

I grasp her hips and thrust my semi-hard cock inside her. “Do you have to ask?”

She’s not having it. She shifts to the side and dismounts. “I mean for Nolan.” She doesn’t look at me when she says it.

My gut twists up in a knot. I climb to my feet and dispose of the condom.

I don’t fucking know.

I don’t know the answer to that question. I don’t have a clue how to be a father. Before I chased them down, I was barely surviving.

“I want to do what’s right by my son,” I choke. That’s the truth.

She folds her arms across her chest. “That’s not the same thing,” she snaps.

I hold my hands up. “Whoa. Whoa. I’m not saying I don’t want to be a father to him. I do. Please remember I only found out about his existence a few days ago. If I’m not ready to pin the Father of the Year badge on it’s because I don’t have a fucking clue how to be that for him. That’s all.”

Her shoulders drop. “You’re right. I understand. Forgive me, I’m just protective of Nolan.”

I walk over and pull her into my arms. “Of course you are. I wouldn’t expect anything else. We’ll take things slow, okay? For now, I can sleep on the couch and guard you both. The rest we’ll figure out.”

She melts into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Thank you,” she murmurs against my shirt.

I stroke her soft curls. “Thank you, baby. I’m just grateful you’re letting me in the house. Not that I didn’t love having your neighbor shoot at me.”

She giggles and smiles up at me and I catch my breath and how fresh and beautiful she still looks. Like Data-X never happened.

Meanwhile, I’ve withered to a shell of a man, haunted by flashbacks and urges for violence.

Nolan and Denali deserve so much better than what I have to offer.

I sure as hell hope I don’t fuck this up.

* * *

Agent Dune

Charlie leans back, eyes crossing from reviewing hours of meaningless video feed. His phone buzzes and he picks it up.

“Agent Gray.”

“Dune. I sent you a link. The Mexican lab didn’t house any humans. They were doing animal testing there. Wolves.”

Ice pours across the surface of his skin.

Wolves.

A memory, long buried. His grandfather and uncles pulling down their shotguns to hunt a wolf.

Jesus.

What is he thinking now? There isn’t such thing as a wolf-man.

A werewolf.

“I have the name of the funder. Looks like he was a major funder of Data-X as well. Santiago Rodriguez. Formerly of Lobo Mountain, Mexico. Currently resides in Honduras. Also funds an animal testing lab in Barcelona. It’s all in the files I uploaded.”

“Thank you.” His voice sounds gruff because his mind is stuttering and repeating and stuttering again over the wolf thing. “Gray? Were there animals at any of the Data-X labs?” He clears his voice. “Wolves?”

“That information is all redacted.”

Yeah, but you could probably get into it.

They both pause, and he knows she hears his unspoken sentence.

“I’ll see what I figure out.”

“Thanks, Gray. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

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