Grant’s wolf shoved forward so fast, he was partially shifted between one rapid heartbeat and the next. Fingers became claws, his mouth elongated to a wolven maw, and his teeth grew to deadly, sharpened points. Gray fur sprouted and pushed through his skin. While his increased size, muscles growing and bulging, tore his clothing at the seams.

His sentinels were soon in the same state. Eight wolf males ready to battle the vampires until they were no more than ashes.

He’d recognized Sophia’s escorts the moment they’d approached. What her entourage had lacked in numbers, they’d more than compensated for with abilities. They were four of the oldest vampires in her clan, second only to her, and had studied under many of the battle masters through the years.

Since he doubted Sophia would join the fray, his eight sentinels against four were decent odds.

The wolf demanded that Rachel be protected and he shoved his mate behind him, shielding her with his body. His wolves were engaging the vampires, the men going after the warriors in turns while the other two soldiers protected Rachel and him.

His men were well matched as arms seemed to slice through the air, collide with skin. Each strike was countered, followed and returned, his wolves neither winning nor losing.

Blood, both black and red, flowed from various wounds, but his pack never faltered.

Sophia spewed hatred and loathing, raging and urging her vampires toward triumph. Yet she didn’t take a step forward to assist her guards.

Growls, snarls and yells filled the area as the battle raged. His wolf kept him on edge but restrained. Rachel was his priority. His sentinels worked together to destroy the threat to the pack, their rage at the vampire’s attempted subterfuge fueling their fury.

Until one went down, the sentinel bleeding from a gaping wound in his stomach yet fighting to regain his feet. Carr was a good wolf, and Grant knew the man would fight to the death, if necessary.

One of the other men made it a non-issue when he stepped into the downed wolf’s place and squared off against the vamp intent on Carr’s death.

The bodies continued to engage in battle—slice, punch, kick, block, strike. Over and again the vampires and wolves fought. Blood flowed and coated the grass.

Grant’s wolf ached to roar into the fray, show the vampires that they couldn’t threaten his mate and live to repeat the words. His claws itched, nails thirsting for blood, but he held the beast at bay. Their focus needed to be on protection. He couldn’t wade into the fight. Couldn’t…

A high-pitched cackle came from behind them, and he whirled to find Rachel wrapped in Sophia’s embrace. The vampire’s talon-like fingernail was poised against his mate’s throat. Somehow the woman had gotten behind them as they’d watched the fight.

“Easy, puppy. This one owes me. I’ve been looking for her since we took care of her parents. What do you care if I rid the world of one more witch? One more watcher?”

Keeping his eyes trained on Sophia, he forced his wolf back so that he could speak, and he called over his shoulder, internally smiling when he caught sight of a flutter of ashes. At least they’d taken down one. The others would die just as soon as he took care of the bitch in front of him.

“Sentinels. To me.” The thud of a fist striking flesh followed his words and then all fell quiet as the men appeared at his sides. “Rachel.” His mate’s furious gaze flew to him. “Sit still, woman.” She glared at him, expression promising retribution.

“Maybe you do care. So, I have your little whore, puppy. You sign that new contract, and I’ll let her go. Don’t and… I think my men would enjoy a little witch snack to help them heal.” Sophia’s words were filled with venom.

A movement to his left revealed Sophia’s guards limping toward their mistress. Grant smiled at the destruction he saw. Wolves and vampires tended to be evenly matched, but these were highly trained in combat. And his sentinels had held their own. The minute this was over, he’d step up his wolves’ training.

He wanted nothing to threaten his mate again. Ever.

“Will you kill her the way you took out my father? He knew, didn’t he? The Marroks met with him and then they all had to die, yes?”

The woman’s smile was evil personified. “Quite.”

“So, I sign, and you release her. That is your proposal, yes? My signature for her life?” Low growls surrounded him. “You assume much, vampire.” Focused entirely on Rachel, he made his next words count. “She is a witch, nothing more. A pawn, really. Why, she could disappear, and I wouldn’t blink an eye.”

At the word disappear, Rachel was gone. One heartbeat and she became invisible. Poof.

The confusion was enough for Grant. It was enough for him to close the distance between him and Sophia and…

And rip out the bitch’s throat. By the time his claws slid free of her flesh, the woman’s body disintegrated into a million flecks of gray. The fluttering debris caught on Rachel’s unseen body as she fled and he wrapped his arm around her waist, shoving her behind him while he dealt with the remaining vampires.

“Your leader is dead, and you have twenty-four hours to leave the city.” He didn’t owe them more than that. Not after what their clan had done to the witches and the wolves, his family and Rachel’s.

The bloodiest of Sophia’s guards hissed at him. “We can still end you, wolf.”

“I’m willing to let others think Sophia was insane, and you were forced to follow her schemes because she was so much stronger than you. Attack now, and face a blood war unlike any you’ve ever seen.”

The vampire’s response was simply a narrowing of glowing, red eyes. The men turned from Grant, moved around their cluster of wolves, and strode toward their waiting vehicles without a backward glance.

It wasn’t until the SUVs were out of sight that Grant relaxed, pulling the shivering, invisible body into his arms. His sweet, strong-as-steel mate seemed to be falling apart now that the danger had passed.

The distinct pht of someone spitting was followed by the soft thud as the glob hit the grass near their feet. The man moved away from their group toward the waiting vehicles.

The sound repeated, another wolf leaving Grant and Rachel.

And another.

Again.

The heavy thud of booted feet on the grass softened the further the wolves traveled until Grant and Rachel stood alone, not even Hagan having remained by his side.

And, it seemed, the pack had spoken of their feelings regarding his mate.

* * *

Rachel tugged the last book from the box she’d been emptying and slid it onto the shelf. The final carton was empty.

Turning, she took a moment to look around the room, noting that everything had been put away and was snuggled into place. She hadn’t stayed in this room since she’d left for college and she was thankful that Great Aunt Petunia hadn’t ever gotten around to turning the space into a sewing room. The woman had been spouting that threat for years.

Crazy old bat.

Well, crazy old bat who’d given her a place to come home to.

The canopy bed was just as she’d left it, frilly pink comforter in place with no sign of dust or age. As much as the woman complained about the room going without use, she sure did keep it ready for Rachel.

God, she couldn’t imagine Grant flopping onto the girly bed…

Unbidden tears stung her eyes and she blinked against the pain. She didn’t want to think about him, about the pack, about how unwelcome she’d been once they’d all learned the truth about her.

Because you’re mine.

Rachel shook her head and pushed that deep, gravelly voice from her mind. She wasn’t his. She didn’t belong to him. She’d helped the pack, but she was a witch, a watcher. There was no future for the two of them and Grant’s sentinels had made their opinions clear.

There was no talking after the meeting with the vampires, and the tension had been palpable through the ride back to Hemming Industries. The men, bloodied and bruised, kept to themselves. No one looked toward her, the invisible body that Grant shielded in the SUV.

In the parking garage, she’d strayed from Grant’s side, leaving the cluster of men to talk and growl at each other. But a few choice words echoed in the concrete structure.

“I will challenge before a witch enters…” Hagan’s voice had been unmistakable.

That’d been enough for Rachel.

Disregarding the ache building in her heart, Rachel had left, practically running down the street and toward her nearby apartment. Body jiggling, breath heaving and invisibility still firmly in place, she dashed over the sidewalk. She dodged pedestrians, pushing past others, with one destination in mind.

Her apartment.

Then Great Aunt Petunia’s.

She could hide. At least for a bit while she figured out what to do with her life. It wasn’t as if she’d get a glowing reference from Hemming Industries. She doubted HR knew of her witchery and saving of the pack.

“Rachel, dear?” Her aunt’s voice came from downstairs. The frail notes ate at her conscience. The elderly woman had welcomed her with open arms, but she knew Petunia was worried about Grant and the Hemming pack. It’d been a week since she’d fled, and she wondered how much longer she was able to hide.

“Coming!”

A heavy knocking at the front of the house caught Rachel’s attention, sending her heart racing, but her aunt’s welcoming tone soothed her. With her failing hearing, Petunia practically yelled her welcome. “Hello, dear, how are you? I’ve been wondering when you’d come for a visit.”

Her aunt had people coming and going all day, but… The soft, deep rumble reached into her, stroking something she’d tried to push from her mind.

“Yes, yes, come in…”

The response was muffled, but still crept into her veins.

“Oh, how lovely.”

She could hear the smile in the man’s voice, if not his words, when he replied.

“Of course, dear.”

The roll of the man’s voice moved closer, close enough to…

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Rachel’s knees buckled, legs no longer supporting her, and she crumpled to the bed, flopping onto the soft surface with a whimper.

Grant. He’d come. He’d left the pack and come for her and—

“Rachel.”

He stood in the door, all six plus feet of hardened muscle and pure seduction in a tailored suit package.

And all she could say was, “You look tired.”

Because he did. Fatigue etched every line of his face, bags lingered beneath his eyes and his skin no longer held the flushed hue of health.

The left corner of his mouth kicked up in a semblance of a grin, a poor approximation of his cocky smile. “You look gorgeous.”

She knew he lied. She hadn’t showered, hadn’t brushed her hair and was dressed in the rattiest, most comfortable pajamas she owned. “Liar.”

Grant pushed away from the wall and moved toward her, stalked her, with slow, measured steps. “To me, you’re always gorgeous.”

He stood above her, amber eyes intent on her, and she refused to look away. She wanted this last bit of time to drink her fill, notice his every nuance while she had the opportunity. As much as she wanted to leap into his arms and drown in him, she’d have to send him away. She wouldn’t tear his pack apart with her presence, and he was meant to lead those wolves.

“Then you’re blind.” He had to be to think she was anything beyond marginally pretty.

“Hmm…” He eased down beside her and his woodsy scent wrapped around her shoulders like a blanket. “You know, I almost killed Hagan that first day. I couldn’t let his challenge go unanswered, and then you disappeared.” His tone was conversational, with no hint of remorse. It was as if he were talking about the weather.

“Yeah?”

He leaned toward her, his shoulder lightly brushing hers. “Yup. Then, I allowed Carr to recover enough before I took him on too.”

Rachel let him take some of her weight, snuggling against his side. Those tears that had been threatening materialized and a single drop slid down her cheek. He’d fought two members of his sentinels. Over her. The pain of his actions tore at her soul. Wolves fought for dominance all the time, but battling those men because of her presence… That was too much.

“Really?” She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

“Yes, I let them live, though.”

She nodded and lowered her head to his shoulder. Another tear escaped. “That was nice of you.”

“I let the rest of the sentinels walk away once the fights were over, as well.”

Her throat burned. “Yeah, you can’t kill everyone.”

His rough, callused finger tapped her chin and then forced her to raise her face. “I could. For you, to have you at my side, I could kill them all and I wouldn’t feel an ounce of remorse, Rachel. Not a single bit.”

“Grant.” She shook her head. “You can’t. They…they’re your pack. You need them just as much as they need you.”

“But I need you more.” He traced her lower lip with his thumb. “You belong to me.” She’d been rolling those thoughts through her mind all week, wondering if she interpreted them correctly. “You’re my mate.”

And she had.

Which made her cry even harder. Those two single tears were joined by more, droplet after droplet snaking down her cheeks. The salty fluid scorched her eyes, but she didn’t try to hold them back. She didn’t love Grant, not yet, but that emotion seemed to be no more than a kiss away. Her heart ached for him, longed to be at his side for all time. Yet, his wolves would rather battle him than allow her into the pack.

“No.”

“Yes.” He lowered his head and, instead of kissing her, lapped at her tears. “I’m going to claim you, sweetheart. I’m going to sink my teeth into you here.” He brushed her shoulder with his free hand, skimming her exposed skin, and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that overtook her body. “Right here. And then you’ll be mine. My witch, my watcher, my wolf, my mate.”

“No.” She fought against her rising arousal. “They won’t allow it, Grant.”

His gentle licks changed to equally tender kisses. His lips soothed her ragged nerves, traveling over her forehead, nose, cheeks and then further down. He scraped the column of her neck with his teeth, boosting her burgeoning arousal. She wanted him, she couldn’t deny that fact, but she wouldn’t give in. Couldn’t give in. Not when there was so much unsettled. Not when their mating could mean the end of his pack.

“They’ll allow whatever I demand they allow. I’m their Alpha, sweetheart. I’m your Alpha.” He laved the juncture of her neck and shoulder. His inherent heavy flavors of woodlands and grass invaded her. “And if they don’t care for a decision made by the Hemming Alpha, they can challenge or leave.”

“You can’t.”

“I did.” A nip, the sting forcing the breath in her lungs to still. “I’ve fought seven challenges, one per day since you ran from the parking garage. There were no takers this morning, so I came to you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped his biceps. “How many wolves did you lose?”

The wolves were stronger in numbers. Especially since they’d made vampires their enemies.

“None. I told you I let them walk away,” he whispered against her moist skin.

“None?” She panted, unable to catch her breath. She refused to relinquish her hold on him, actually pulling him nearer. She was desperate to feel his body against hers, revel in his closeness.

“None. We’re a cutthroat pack, but trusting once dominance has been established.” Another lick and then warm air wafted over the damp skin. “I’ve proven my strength and they’ve accepted my decision. You just have to make yours.”

“Mine?” She couldn’t think when he did that thing with his tongue.

With one last nip, he pulled away from her. And she, slut that she was, tried to follow him, leaning toward his muscled body and silently begging for more. Cupping her skull, he forced her to focus on him, and she gazed into his now familiar amber eyes.

“I want you as mine, Rachel. My heart, my mate.” He brushed a chaste kiss across her lips, not pulling away as he whispered into her mouth, “I’m going to claim you, change you, and then you’ll lead the pack at my side.”

“Change?” She wished he’d come closer.

“I’ll mount you, slide my cock into your sweet pussy and when you come, I’ll sink my teeth deep into your shoulder. Then you’ll be a wolf. A beautiful, sexy wolf that’ll run through the forests with me.” His voice had dropped to a deep growl.

“I’m not who you want, Grant. You’re wrong. I’m—”

“Perfect.” The word was more growl than anything, and his eyes flashed a bright yellow. Uh oh, she’d made the wolf come out and play. “Mine.”

He slanted his mouth over hers, not waiting for acquiescence, but forcing his tongue into her mouth. He conquered and claimed while the heated flavors invaded her. This was Grant. This was Wolf. The wolf that wanted her and was going to take what he desired.

The depth of his need overwhelmed her, washed her away in a torrent of sensation until she simply wallowed in the desire he stoked within her. Arousal burned inside her body, catching fire and tormenting her from within.

She met him stroke for stroke, nip for nip, alternating between fighting and acceptance until the heavy puffs of their breathing filled her childhood bedroom.

Her childhood bedroom.

The room in which she spent her childhood and was located in Great Aunt Petunia’s home.

Whimpering in sorrow, she pulled from Grant’s kiss. “My aunt.”

“Is gone. She asked me why I’d taken so much time to come ‘fetch’ you and then she congratulated us on our mating.” He dove toward her, lips, tongue and teeth engaging her once again.

“Wait.” She was dizzy with arousal, body burning. Her pussy throbbed and pulsed, more than ready to take Grant’s cock deep within. “Wait,” she gasped.

Grant shifted his grip until he held her biceps, claw-tipped fingers slicing through the sleeves of her pajamas with ease. “Why? Do you doubt that you’re mine?”

“No.” She didn’t. Not really. There was something deep down that nudged her to accept him. Whether it was simply women’s intuition or a piece of magic that signaled they fit together, there was no doubt in her mind that they belonged side by side.

“Do you doubt that I’ll take care of you?”

“Of course not.” There was no question as to whether he’d protect and care for her forever.

“So, why are we waiting?”

“Because,” she whined, “this doesn’t happen to someone like me. I’m a witchy, college dropout, crappy secretary, and you’re… You’re you. You’re Mister Billionaire Pack Alpha who could have any woman, wolf or human, at his beck and call.” She huffed. “If you were just the President of Hemming Industries, I wouldn’t deserve you because I’m one of the low, low middle class and nowhere in your league. If it were simply the Alpha thing, it’d be because I’m a witch and you’re a wolf. But it’s all of the above, and I feel like Miss Sucktastica while you’re Super Awesome Man.” She gave him a bland look. “In case you didn’t know, Miss Sucktastica does not end up with Super Awesome Man. It’s proven. In writing. I’ll take you to the comic book store.”

Grant shook his head. “I’ll buy the publisher and have the thing rewritten.” A grin played around his mouth. “Super Awesome Man always gets what he wants, and he wants Miss Sucktastica.”

Rachel melted. Just a little. And she promised herself that just as soon as her brain returned, she’d quit being such a whiny, self-conscious wimp. “Is he sure? I mean, are you sure?”