Thank God I’m not Lance’s mate.

After the initial shock—well, who wouldn’t be shocked, to discover that something like soulmates actually existed?—Keeley had felt sick with relief.

Of everything she’d found out about the shifter world so far, this whole “mate” idea was the most terrifying. Sure, it had been awkward when Lance’s friends had gotten the wrong end of the stick, but that was better than the alternative.

Because seriously—her, Lance’s mate? This gorgeous, brave, kind, and incredibly sexy man, chained to someone like her?

No. The universe wouldn’t let something like that happen. Not to someone as good as him.

Night was falling by the time Lance’s friends left. Keeley wrapped Maggie around her shoulders and helped everyone gather up coats and bags.

Maggie had been awake all day and was getting crotchety. She snapped and grizzled until Chloe had the bright idea of swaddling her in her scarf, with the necklace, Lance’s watch, and—after some more grizzling—Keeley’s gold-ish studs wrapped up in the fabric with her. Maggie’s grizzles softened to the occasional hiss, and by the time their guests had left, she was fast asleep.

Keeley leaned against the wall as Lance reset the security system, pretending to coo over the sleeping dragonling. In reality, she was memorizing the code on the door lock.

Her shoulders slumped. Today had been… nice. But she had to get real. The longer she was here, the higher the risk that someone would find her out.

She’d followed all of Lance’s plans as he talked them over with his friends. Tomorrow, the other two eggs would be brought back to the agency and then flown direct to the safehouse where Maggie’s uncle was staying.

And as soon as Maggie was back with her family, Keeley would quietly slip away, and Lance and his friends would carry on with their lives as though she’d never existed. Irina and Grant would have their maybe-shifter baby. Chloe would… well, Chloe would probably set up camp wherever Maggie was, because it was obvious she was besotted with the tiny dragonling. And Mathis would follow her, because it was equally obvious that he’d go to the ends of the Earth for her, let alone be neighbors with a family of dragon shifters.

And Lance would—would…

Find his real mate, and settle down with her, and have a thousand adorable snow leopard shifter babies, probably.

She winced as something pulled in her chest. “Ow.”

“Is everything all right?” Lance was suddenly at her side, steadying her with a hand at her waist.

“Just a cramp,” Keeley replied quickly, stepping away from Lance’s comforting embrace.

Lance stilled and pulled his hand back. She had to be imagining the look of disappointment that flashed behind his eyes, didn’t she?

“Maggie’s asleep,” she said, keeping her gaze on the snoozing bundle. “I think she enjoyed meeting your friends, though. Or she enjoyed getting more loot off them.”

Lance chuckled. “Grant barely got away with his wedding ring intact. I’ll have to issue a warning to the office tomorrow for everyone to leave their jewelry at home.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day.” Keeley couldn’t keep a hint of sadness from her voice. “I should get her to bed.”

Lance resettled his glasses. “Yes,” he said, but his voice was a bit more serious than she’d expected. “When she’s settled… there’s something I’d like to talk with you about.”

Well, that doesn’t sound foreboding, Keeley thought. “Uh-huh?”

“I’ll clean up the kitchen and meet you in the library?”

In the library… does he mean the den under his bedroom? Right under his bedroom? “Um, sure,” she muttered, trying desperately to keep her thoughts G-rated. Damn it, she’d been doing so well.

After she’d settled Maggie in the guest bedroom, Keeley followed the sound of clinking glass, a shiver of anticipation going through her as she walked into the library.

Lance turned his head as she entered the room. Damn it, even the sight of him standing over the drinks cabinet made a thrill go through her.

“Whiskey?”

Keeley sat down on the sofa as Lance handed her a glass and immediately sank down into the plush cushions. Lance hesitated, then sat down on the opposite end.

She pulled her legs up and twisted around so she was facing him, her back against the arm of the sofa. Lance sat, staring into his glass, and the silence lengthened.

Keeley’s stomach twisted. Whatever Lance wanted to say, he was clearly having difficulty putting it into words.

She needed to fill the silence. Luckily, she had a great topic of conversation literally in her hand. The amber liquid in her glass gleamed as she held it up to the light.

“I haven’t drunk whiskey since I left home,” she said. “I remember distinct overtones of car fumes and a delicate aftertaste of old puddles.”

She took a sip, and her eyes widened. “Wow. Either I’ve grown up enough that my tastes have actually matured, or this stuff is… nice.” She sipped again, just enough so the flavor burst across her tongue. “I mean. Two mouthfuls, and my throat isn’t even on fire. Are you sure this is whiskey?”

Lance’s pensive mask slipped, and he laughed. “I’m glad you like it. My aunt brings it over from Scotland, when she goes over to visit that side of the family. It makes this apartment feel like more of a home.”

“Come on. Really? It takes beer goggles to make this place feel like a home?” Keeley gestured, her arms taking in everything around them. The lush furniture. The polished floorboards. The floor-to-ceiling windows and the view. God, the view.

God, the things they’d done together, in front of that view…

Keeley quickly looked away from the windows, her cheeks burning.

“It’s a very nice house,” Lance said, staring hard at the glass of whiskey in his hand. “But it’s only a house. It doesn’t have what’s needed to really make it a home.”

He met Keeley’s eyes, and her heart sank. There was no mistaking the longing in his gaze. She wasn’t stupid; she knew what he was talking about. What really made a home?

Those thousand adorable babies, she thought, a heavy lump lodging in the back of her throat.

She felt irrationally, stupidly angry.

Lance pulled off his glasses and set them aside. “I’ve always worked on the assumption that even the most complex mission can be broken down into small pieces. And that makes them simple. Controllable. Understandable. But recently, I’ve seen just how complicated the world is.” He sighed. “And how limited my ability to understand or control it is.”

“You seem pretty in control from where I am,” Keeley said. “You have those invisibility things, and this place, and—”

And friends, and a family who loves you if your aunt is any example, and, and… And so many other things that I’ll never have, even if I do manage to escape from Sean again.

“And an enemy I can’t even name, attacking the people I’m supposed to protect. Even my friends.”

“But you saved them,” she said, and remembered another of the stories his friends had told around the kitchen table. “The same as you helped Grant save Chloe, when that woman—Francine—kidnapped her.”

Lance shook his head. “And I was almost too late. Both times. I didn’t see how Francine was hurting, and now she’s gone, because someone else saw how they could exploit that hurt before I could help her. And Mathis…” He took another gulp of whiskey and grimaced. “He sent a final, desperate call for help, and I thought it was a prank. Another of his stupid jokes. I was that close to ignoring it altogether…”

He looked away, his face twisting with guilt.

“This whole time, I’ve been one step behind. Racing to catch up, only to discover how far ahead of me the enemy has already reached. Francine. Harper. And now, whoever is behind the attempt to take Maggie.” He dropped his head into his hand, massaging his forehead. “And now you’re here, and I don’t know how to manage that, either.”

“I didn’t realize I was something to be managed,” she said, wishing the butterflies in her stomach would go away.

A sort of panic flashed across his face. “I didn’t mean—” He groaned. “I’m doing this all wrong.”

He emptied his glass in one gulp and set it down on the floor.

“My agents call me a hero. I thought they were wrong because I could see how close we came to disaster each time we encountered the enemy. I was right about not being a hero, but wrong about the reason.” He turned his eyes on her. Silver mingled with gray-green as the man and the snow leopard both stared at her. “There’s nothing heroic about the way I’ve been ignoring my feelings for you.”

Keeley’s heart flipped over. “But this afternoon you said—”

That I’m not his mate. Her heart soared. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t attracted to me.

“I know what I said.” Lance’s gaze turned pleading. “Tell me I’m an idiot. I already know I am. Everything else in my life is so complicated, I thought this had to be, too.”

“But it doesn’t,” Keeley breathed.

It doesn’t have to be complicated. It can be simple. Because I’m not his mate. We’re just two people. And…

Warning bells started going off in her head, but she ignored them. She knew who she was, now. She knew there was no escaping her past.

But this time tomorrow, she’d be gone. Out of Lance’s life forever.

What had he said, when she’d come down for breakfast ass-naked? Shifters are less prudish about this sort of thing.

“Let’s keep things simple,” she whispered, so softly she could barely hear her own voice.

I’m a terrible person. Guilt gnawed at her gut, but the painful longing in her heart was stronger.

She stared into his eyes and held her breath. Even her heartbeat seemed to slow as she waited for—God, she didn’t even know what.

Lance made a small noise low in his throat as his eyes went dark with desire. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” Keeley leaned forward. Gleaming silver flickered in the depths of Lance’s eyes, like the first hints of fall leaves in the green, and she was so lost in them that his kiss took her by surprise.

Lance pulled her to him. He held her against his muscular chest as his lips closed over hers, passionate and demanding.

The warmth already building inside Keeley burst like fireworks, sending desire spilling through her veins. She kissed him back, flicking her tongue out to tease against his lips.

Lance groaned, and the sound went straight to her core. Keeley flung one leg over his so she was sitting astride him. His hands dropped to her waist, pulling her closer, and the hard ridge of his erection jutted between her legs.

She gasped out loud, the need inside her flaring hot and sharp. And something else, as well. Something bright and taut in her chest, like a shining guitar string ready to be plucked.

“You feel it, too?” Lance’s voice was gravely with desire. He caught her face in one hand, resting his forehead against hers.

“Yes,” Keeley whispered, and the tightness in her chest thrummed. She felt—she didn’t know what. Safety. Desire. More longing than she’d ever felt in her life before. If I didn’t have to leave after all of this—

She cut the thought off before it could get any further. If she stayed, she would only be staying until Lance found out the truth about her. Or found his mate. Two bad options, no good ones. Better that she get out soon.

Lance breathed out hard. “I want to take you to bed.”

A delighted giggle bubbled out of Keeley, making the golden string inside her dance. “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”

In reply, Lance stood up. Keeley squealed and wrapped her legs around his waist. Not that she was in any danger of falling; she was safe in Lance’s arms.

Keeley snuggled against Lance’s chest as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. The star-like cityscape visible out the windows spun as he turned, and then she was lying on her back on the bed, and he was leaning over her.

She reached for him, pulling him down to kiss his lips, his neck, the curve of his collarbone. When he groaned, she felt the rumble against her mouth.

“Oh, God, Keeley,” he murmured, and the sound of her name on his lips made Keeley’s insides melt. “After last time—I want to take it slow. I want to explore every inch of you.” He pushed himself up on his elbows. His eyes were dark with lust, the bright green of his irises barely visible around the heavy darkness of his pupils. “Tell me what you want.”

Keeley grabbed fistfuls of Lance’s shirt. “You.” She pulled the shirt over his head, fabric tearing. “Simple.” She ran her hands over his chest, glorying in the heat of his bare skin. “Straightforward.” She dropped her hands to the button of his pants. “Now.”

Lance’s eyes glittered. “Is that so?” He kissed her, biting down on her bottom lip just hard enough to make her gasp. “I think I can manage that.”

She gasped as he pushed her shirt up over her breasts, one hand reaching around to undo her bra. Keeley fumbled to drag her shirt and bra off over her head, and Lance took advantage of her distraction, sliding his hands down her sides and hooking his thumbs under the band of her underwear.

“Yes,” she cried out as he brushed one thumb against her clit. Her legs bucked automatically. Lance laughed, burying his face in her shoulder as he kicked his pants off and climbed on top of her.

Keeley moaned as his teeth raked across her skin. More than a kiss, less than a bite. It was strangely, compellingly intimate.

So she did the same to him, nibbling, nipping, until every touch between her and Lance blazed with sensation.

Need throbbed between her legs. She stared up into Lance’s eyes, seeing the same need reflected there.

He kissed her again, his teeth grazing her lips. Keeley wrapped her legs around his waist, straining upwards, and he bore down on her at the same time.

He filled her in one thrust. Keeley’s back arched, and a soft cry escaped her lips as her body adjusted to his size. He thrust again, and the stretch was a delicious ache, bright and pure.

Lance pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes burned into hers, the green of spring. Of new life.

Second chances.

Keeley’s breath caught in her throat. The thought hurt. Like running her fingers across the blade of a knife.

She pulled away from it. Back into the blaze of desire, the burn and thrill of sensation that danced across her skin whenever she and Lance touched. Whenever she looked at him. Hell, whenever she thought about him.

Her thoughts hurt. Her memories hurt. Who she was, hurt. But not when she was with Lance. Not now. Right now, right here, she was free and flying in the center of a burning sun of joy, drunk on her own desire and Lance’s desire for her.

Keeley dug her fingertips into Lance’s shoulders, desperate for every scrap of touch, every inch of closeness.

Lance groaned. He swept one hand to the small of her back, adjusting the angle of her body. Keeley was already burning with sensation. The next time he thrust inside her, she exploded.

Pleasure raced through her veins, a flash of light that shorted out every thought in her brain. She clutched at Lance, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode out the crashing waves of her orgasm, and the light grew stronger. She wasn’t flying in the center of the sun anymore, the sun was inside her.

Lance tensed, his arms tightening around her. He claimed her lips with his, their breath mingling as he cried out with his release.

The bright light filling Keeley shrank down until it was a gleaming jewel in her heart.

And Lance’s, too.

Keeley’s eyes widened. What—?

“Simple enough for you?” Lance’s voice was practically a purr, warm and heavy with satisfaction.

Keeley nudged him to roll off her, then snuggled against his side. She felt like purring, too. Her skin was still tingling. “Very straightforward.”

Lance wrapped one arm around her and stared up at the ceiling. He looked thunderstruck by happiness, and Keeley couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across her face at the simple, open joy in his expression.

She rolled on top of him and kissed him, losing herself in another wave of bliss. Lance held her close, his arms strong and comforting.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathed into her hair.

Keeley giggled. She felt as though she was floating on golden clouds of pleasure. “Don’t deserve what? Simple?”

“Nothing in my life is simple.” He touched her face gently, his eyes full of tenderness. “Not recently. Why would finding my mate be?”

The fire and light in Keeley’s veins turned to ice. “Your mate?”

His gentle touch turned into a caress as he traced the line of her jaw, following his fingertips with a line of kisses. She felt like her whole body had gone stiff as a board, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Keeley. My mate. The one good thing to come into my life out of all this madness.”

He buried his face in her hair, sighing contentedly.

Keeley forced herself to breathe normally. Her fingers were knotted in the bedsheets. She loosened them, one by one.

His mate. I’m his mate. Oh, fuck me. Her heart began to race. What have I done?

Thoughts tumbled over each other, a flood that, this time, didn’t short out. I thought simple meant casual. I thought we were just a casual shifter thing, like everyone getting naked in front of each other and it not even being a thing.

I didn’t think simple meant serious.

But it did. More serious than anything else in her life.

Lance was stuck with her. With her. The thief. The liar. The person who’d almost put Maggie in the hands of monsters.

Her chest cramped. She rubbed it slowly, her mind racing. What the hell was she going to do now?

Lance was stuck with her. Which meant she couldn’t run away, not anymore. She had to stay.

And she had to make things right.