“She’s been bitching at Mischa again?” Mars scraped a hand over his jaw as he contemplated the club’s VP. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

Kiko shook his head as he rocked back in his seat. “Nah, she hasn’t been bitching. That’s the thing. She looked...” He frowned, then dropped his head and went quiet.

Chris’ ears always pricked up when it came down to talking about his mate. Just because Chris avoided her, physically, didn’t mean he wanted to be kept out of the loop on her wellbeing.

It wasn’t like him to butt in on conversations where it concerned Ava. He usually kept out of them. If Mars found out he was mated to her, then Christ knew he’d be tossed out on his ass, Council member or not.

His position in the MC was important to him, but not as important as being close to Ava. It was worth keeping their relationship a secret until she was old enough to be Claimed, for that alone.

Not that she understood that.

The few glances she shot his way whenever their paths crossed were loaded with betrayal. She thought he was spurning her, and what could he say to make any of it better?

She was young. Impulsive. Too young to be mated to a guy as old as him.

The age difference would never go away, but if he waited—and he would, even if it killed him—she could approach the bond with a maturity her current years wouldn’t allow.

But Kiko’s silence concerned him enough to break the habit that had been a decade in the making. “What, Kiko? Why’d you go quiet?”

The VP shot him a sharp look. “Because she was acting weird, and I didn’t really know how to put it into words.” He turned to Mars, then gruffly said, “Defeated. She looked defeated.”

“Good,” Mars barked. “The sooner she gets that college shit out of her head, the better.”

“Did you know Harvard wouldn’t have her now?”

Mars frowned. “What do you mean?” His gaze shot to the acceptance letter he’d had framed and hung on the Council chamber’s wall.

Chris knew he was hellish proud of Ava. But that pride manifested in ways that even he, a fully matured male bear Shifter, didn’t comprehend.

Mars had been over the moon that Harvard had accepted his daughter in their law program. But when it had come down to it, he’d said no when Ava had started to ask if she could go. He’d even railed her ass for applying.

They had a weird relationship. No one in the clubhouse really understood it.

There was no doubting that the Prez and his mate were hard on Ava. He knew that their expectations astonished and discomforted the brothers who were aware of what they wanted from her.

And he guessed that was one of the reasons why she looked at him with betrayal. Because once she was mated, she was out from under her parents’ thumbs.

Who could blame her?

He sure as hell couldn’t, but it wasn’t enough to induce him to Claim her.

How could he?

She was a cub, and he was an adult. It was perverted.

Kiko clucked his tongue. “Nah, bro, I mean really defeated. Like, soul deep tired.”

Mars scowled. “Don’t go all poetical on me, Kiko.”

“I’m not. Just saying it how it is. She didn’t even finish her borscht. I mean, you know how she devours that stuff.”

Chris’s lips twitched at the memory of Ava’s mouth being stained purple for two whole days when she was seven after she’d worked her way through ten bowls of the shitty stuff.

Everyone went on and on about the beet soup, but Jesus, he hated the crap.

Not that he said that out loud. Kiko would knock his head off for dissing Mischa’s cooking.

His comment though had Chris and Mars jerking to attention. “She didn’t finish her soup?” Mars asked, astonished.

“Nah. She left it.” Kiko pursed his lips. “Mischa says she’s been down in the dumps for a while now. Said Ava wasn’t even the one to mention college, Mischa did. She wanted to know if it would cheer Ava up. It didn’t. Not really.”

“Then why are we even talking about it?” Mars demanded crossly.

Mundo, another Council member, grunted. “Goddess, Mars, you call me blind. For fuck’s sake, it’s a measure of how depressed your baby girl is. You’re blinkered where she’s concerned, man. You always have been.”

“I am not,” Mars returned hotly.

“You are,” Justiss chimed in, as did Graver, Chris, and Major.

Four of his Council members all speaking in tandem had Mars rearing back in surprise.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “I’m no harder on her than you are on Jessie, Mundo.”

That had the man snorting. “Jessie’s a different kind of girl to Ava. We both know that. Jessie would prefer to stick pins in her eyes than read a book. Ava’s book smart. I get why you want her close. Same reason I make Jessie stay here. But she’s clever, Mars. This place ain’t enough for her.”

Chris’s heart twisted at that. Wasn’t it? Would it be if he Claimed her or wouldn’t he be enough either?

Mars grunted. “She’s managing the entire company’s books. What the hell more does she need to keep her busy?”

Chris shook his head and ventured, “I’ve never agreed with that. Not only does she not have the training—”

Justiss snorted. “She runs this place finer than any CPA I’ve ever met.” And if anyone knew that truth then it was Justiss. The man was a millionaire with more assets than Chris ever hoped to have.

He ceded to the other man’s comment with a nod. “We know that now. But we didn’t when she started. We threw her in at the deep end.”

“I knew she wouldn’t sink,” Mars said simply.

Chris shook his head. “It was a huge risk. But that isn’t my point. You’ve put the entirety of that department on her shoulders. With a company our size, we should have a team working on it.”

“Why? She manages it just fine.”

Chris grunted. “Because she’s twenty-five. Whether or not she likes books, or math, or whatever, she still has to live. You’re the one who keeps on insisting she’s still a cub. Why is it Jessie, who’s only a year younger than her, is still prattling around the clubhouse painting her nails and going shopping, but you’ve set Ava up as the company’s main accountant?”

For a second, hell fire burned in Mars eyes. The Prez was fair and just. Where the club was concerned, that is. When it came down to his family, he was quick to burn. The flames that came from that always raged white with fury.

Chris withstood the burn though, maintained eye contact, and ignored the fact he could see from his peripheral vision that Mars had clenched his fists, bunching the muscles in his forearms and biceps.

When Chris didn’t back down, the flames died a little. A notion that stunned him, until Mars growled out, “My daughter is my business. She isn’t a subject for Council. Do you understand me?”

Sighs and huff of impatience made their way around about the table. Chris just jerked a shoulder, silently saying, ”You know I’m right.”

Mars’ eyes flashed at the challenge, albeit a nonverbal one, and he firmed his jaw and moved onto the next motion of business.

Council passed quickly after that. Chris had to discuss a venture he was proposing for the first roadhouse they were looking to set up. They already had a chain of dive bars that served their home brew and some basic eats, but they were looking into something aimed more at the family market.

He’d come up with a way to stay true to the brand, but keep it clean for the folks with kids.

Still, his mind wasn’t in it even though he knew his proposal by rote. When he gave it, he got a bunch of yeses as a result, and headed out of the meeting. It was with real relief to get away from Mars.

Whenever it came to Ava, Chris found it hard to keep himself in check. Mostly because Mars was incredibly unfair when it came to her.

He had to fight his Bear and his natural inclinations to defend her whenever it came to it. Only knowing he’d be cast out if the truth was ever revealed was what stopped him.

Mars was weird as hell where his baby girl was concerned, and Chris would be stupid if he forgot that.

It was misery living so close to his mate and not Claiming her. Sheer hell. Some days, he asked himself what he’d done to the Goddesses to earn himself such a punishment. Other days, he felt like saying fuck it, and just leaving the MC and returning when he felt sure she’d have matured enough to handle a proper mate bond.

Only trouble was, whenever he even thought about leaving, his Bear wouldn’t allow it.

The creature seemed to understand his mate was young, and could cope with her not being unclaimed—it might have been a ‘beast’ but it recognized her ‘relatively’ young age, even though it also recognized she was fully mature too. What it couldn’t cope with was not being near her.

Not scenting her.

Not keeping an eye on her.

But then, he guessed the torture was on the man. Now she was a woman, especially.

The man saw a beautiful woman who belonged to him, as equally as he belonged to her.

The distance between them was necessary but an agony, and on days like today, when he was concerned about her, it really fucking stung.

He needed to work on some case notes, but the idea was akin to putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger—it was the last thing he wanted to do.

The Nomads MC might seem like more of a small corporation now. But it was, at heart, still an MC. All the brothers rode. It was their freedom. And at that moment, there was nothing more that he wanted to do than ride off into the sunset. His mate on the back of his hog.

Instead, he headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Mischa’s domain.

She knew what he was to Ava. Knew and disapproved, but she kept her mouth shut. Something he was forever grateful for.

She also, on the rare occasions he asked, would keep him in the loop with things going on with Ava.

Her recent behavior concerned him. Not just what he’d overheard from Kiko, but the fact she hadn’t left the clubhouse in at least three weeks.

He knew because he’d overhead Jessie mention it to her brothers, Jayden and Kon. Jessie and Ava didn’t get on well, they were too much like chalk and cheese, but there was a sibling like attraction between them. Jessie had been trying to get one of her brothers to drag Ava out with them, but the men had refused, knowing Mars would punish them as prospects, not as cubs.

Hell, Chris would have made certain of that.

Ava wasn’t allowed on any bike unless the Prez was on the back of it too. Mars didn’t care how big of a hypocrite that made him. Ava could go on his hog and no one else’s. That was the rule.

As cubs, they’d have received a punishment for breaking what was, essentially, the golden rule of the clubhouse.

As prospects, their lives would have been misery as Mars would have handed down the worst punishments imaginable. Anything from changing the oil filters on every single bike in the yard to cleaning the toilets with a tooth brush.

Jessie had whined and whined, told them they were selfish for not helping Ava out, but Chris, not wanting the boys to be swayed by her wheedling, had stepped into the room and the topic had fallen aside.

Still, he’d noticed she was growing more reclusive. Hadn’t Annette said the other day that she’d started locking the door to her bedroom? She’d tried to get Mars to agree to take the lock off, but unusually for once, the Prez hadn’t sided with his mate.

And Chris knew why.

It was the constant bane of Mars’ life that to have his baby girl safe, under his protection, he had to have her around hundreds of horny bastards. Dozens of which lived under the same roof as said baby girl.

There was no way in fuck Mars was taking away that lock, not when it kept her inside and barred out anyone else. Even if, unfortunately for Annette, that included her mother too.

Chris’s lips twitched as he remembered Annette’s look of astonishment at Mars’ failure to side with her. She’d stalked off, anger rippling through her, and Mars had ruefully watched her go.

When she’d left the room, he’d grumbled, “That’s me in the doghouse for the next week.”

Kiko had chuckled, shooting the Prez a wink. “The doghouse would be a kindness.”

“Fuck, you ain’t wrong, bud,” had come the wry retort.

Though Chris had chuckled along with everyone else, understanding that Mars was going to be a miserable bastard for the upcoming week until Annette mellowed, he’d been relieved if concerned at what he’d heard.

Like Mars, he wanted her to be safe. But he also was concerned at the traits she was displaying.

Ava was special. Unique. They called it autism, but he didn’t. She was just different. His. She felt things deeply. Understood things too well.

It was why his failure to Claim her was a betrayal in her eyes. Even though, deep down, it was a kindness he felt sure she’d be grateful for years down the line. He endured that belief of hers because he knew she always had and always would feel things more than most.

Heading into the kitchen, he saw Mischa was alone, thankfully. Surrounded by large vats that were bubbling away, he was grateful as hell that he was high up enough in the ranks never to have to pull kitchen duty. Just washing those big bastards would be a chore and a half.

She stopped stirring whatever she was brewing and half-turned to see the new arrival in her domain. At the sight of him, she firmed her lips, shook her head, and went back to her stirring.

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone grim and unwelcoming.

“You know what,” he replied. “What’s going on with Ava?”

“Why don’t you go and ask her yourself?”

He sighed. “Don’t be like this, Mischa. I’m concerned. You know I am.”

“Not enough to Claim her,” came the snarled retort. “If you cared, you’d set the bond in place and give her some freedom. They’re suffocating her, Chris. Can’t you see that?”

Her words were passionate, but they merely hardened his resolve. “If she can’t withstand her parents, how could she withstand a mate?”

Mischa dropped the spoon in the vat and turned to gawk at him. “Are you implying that you’d demand more of her than her parents? Because I highly doubt that’s even possible. Unless you’re going to set up your own corporation and have her work on all the books singlehandedly too?”

He grimaced at that. “You know what I mean. Don’t be pedantic.”

“I’m not being pedantic. I’m being realistic. They ask too much of her. We all know it. We don’t say anything because they’re the Prez and First Lady, but if everyone sees it, imagine what I do. When I’m close to her.” She shook her head. “It’s not fair and it’s getting worse the better she becomes at handling the workload.”

He narrowed his eyes. “How’s she doing that? I have to admit, I thought she’d burn out long ago.”

“She is!” Mischa cried. “That’s what’s going on now. She hasn’t left the clubhouse in ages. Not even to go to town. She locks herself in her room and watches TV and works. That’s it. Haven’t you noticed she’s losing weight?”

He had.

Shit.

Firming his jaw, he demanded, “What would you have me do? Aside from the obvious. She’s too young. She’s not ready.”

“How do you know that?” she retorted. “I was younger than she is now when I was Claimed.”

“You know Shifters work differently.”

“I don’t know anything of the kind. My kids are as batshit crazy as any seventeen year old. Whether they’re Shifter or not, they’re just teenagers. And Ava is a woman. She’s ready to be treated like one.”

He lifted a hand and gripped the back of his neck. Rubbing the tension that had gathered there, he headed for the counter and took a seat on one of the stools.

“Mars would never allow it.”

The words broke free of their own accord. One of the major reasons why he’d never even contemplated Claiming his mate was down to the Prez himself.

Chris knew Mars would kill him for touching Ava while she was still considered a cub in Shifter society.

And though it might make him seem like a pussy, he wasn’t. Mars was a mean motherfucker. How many Challenges had he seen Mars smash? How many Shifters had died at the Prez’s claw?

And all this happened even when mated men weren’t even supposed to submit to Challenges anymore!

Mars had changed that particular rule when Ava had come of age and brothers had started coming onto her.

“He wouldn’t have a say in it,” Mischa said, tone soft. “How could he? You’d present it as a fait accompli.”

“And you think he’d allow it to rest? He’d Challenge me, and I’m strong but I’m not strong enough to take a nearly three hundred year old Bear in his prime. I’m too young. I’d die. Then what would that do? Ava would too.”

Mischa snorted. “You honestly think Mars would Challenge you when your death would mean Ava’s too?”

Bonded mates could pass on when one of them died. It didn’t happen all the time, but it was more probable than unlikely.

“It’s a risk he wouldn’t be willing to take,” Mischa inserted, seeming to understand his train of thought.

He blew out a breath. “But she is too young.”

“She’s too young to be doing what she’s doing,” Mischa immediately countered. “I’m worried for her,” she confessed softly, stepping over to the counter to lean her elbows on it. She peered at him intently. “It’s not right. The way she’s living. You could at least break her out of the shell she’s developed. Help her see a little more of the world than the one this MC would have you believe is centered around this clubhouse!”

Chris just sighed. “Does she really want to go to college?”

“I don’t think so. Not anymore.” She grimaced. “She’s so used to the idea of it not being a possibility, she’s convinced herself that’s it.” She jerked a shoulder. “She’s sensitive, far too sensitive, but she’s also a pragmatist.”

Didn’t he know that without her having to tell him? He mimicked her posture, resting his elbows on the counter; only, he let his head hang heavy. Avoiding her gaze was the only way he could say; “Pragmatist or not, if she could go, would she?”

Silence fell at his words. “What are you trying to say?” she said after a good thirty seconds of quiet.

He flashed her a glance. “Just answer me.”

“Are you telling me that you’d Claim her and then let her go?”

“If that’s what makes her happy.” He knew, from Mars’ bitching, that the colleges Ava wanted to go to were out of state and very far away. The notion of her being his and in another part of the country made his Bear want to let loose a roar that would knock Mischa off her seat.

She shook her head at his words. “You’re crazy. There’s no way you could handle the distance. Either of you.”

“If Claiming her gets her from under their thumb, then surely that’s all that matters?”

Mischa grunted. “Men. You’re so stupid sometimes. Don’t you understand that more than college, more than travelling, what Ava wants is her mate?”

“You think I don’t feel the same way?” he demanded. “You don’t think she isn’t the first thing on my mind ever morning and the last thing before I go to sleep?”

“I know she is,” Mischa told him softly. “That’s why I can’t understand why you’re putting you and her through this craziness. Sometimes, doing the right thing isn’t as cut and dry as it should be. In this instance, letting her mature is doing nothing more than making her miserable. And when I say miserable, I mean it. I’ve seen her through some funks, but nothing like this.” She frowned, then lifted a hand to rub at her temple. “I’m concerned about her, Chris. Seriously concerned. I don’t know how much more she can take. Not from her father or her mother, and not with the mate bond in flux the way it is.” She blew out a shaky breath, and that tepid sound alone sent fear quaking into his boots.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice a low rasp.

“I don’t know what I mean,” she replied. “I just don’t have a good feeling.” Mischa rubbed her chest. “She’s not doing well is all I can say.”

Chris blinked at her, uncertain as to where she was going, and not particularly wanting to hear the words anyway.

He got to his feet and retreated from the kitchen without another comment passing between them.

Heading toward the staircase that led toward the half of the clubhouse that sheltered the upper echelons and their families, he strode toward Ava’s bedroom.

Though, technically, he knew where it was, he’d never actually been there or gone inside.

It had always been, in his mind, a ‘no entry’ zone. For good reason.

Staying away from her was hard enough. Being in her room, her intimate space, was more than he felt sure his Bear could handle. But he was tired of hearing from third party sources just how his mate was doing. Until he saw her, in the flesh, and read for himself what was going on with her, he couldn’t pass judgment.

And when it boiled down to it, his judgment was all that mattered when it came to her.

Children were vital. They were lifeblood. And their parents were their guardians.

But mates were twin souls.

They were born forever seeking their other half. In the face of that kind of bond, that of child and parent was nothing to the Goddess-granted gift of a mate.

Thankfully, he passed no one as he made it to the upper corridor where the kids from the mated Council members lived. Her room was at the end of the hall and he strode toward it, immediately knocking before he could talk himself out of doing what he was about to do.

At first, there was no reply. He frowned, put his ear to the door and heard the tapping of keys on a keyboard as she worked on something. He looked over his shoulder, saw he was still alone, so he knocked again. This time, the keys ceased to clack for a handful of seconds, then they started up again.

Blinking in astonishment at her ignoring the beckoning, his mouth worked until he realized she probably thought it was one of her parents at the door.

He knocked once more and in a low voice, called out, “It’s me.”

The clacking ceased once more, then he heard her chair scrape back.

Soft footsteps padded against the floor. His Bear felt her proximity when she was close to the door, and wanted to revel in the sudden blossoming of her scent as it hit his senses.

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone as unwelcoming as Mischa’s.

He guessed he deserved it. “To talk.” Why else?

She huffed out a breath, then opened the door. When she did, he felt like dropping to his knees at the sight of her.

He’d not let himself be alone with her for nearly a decade now, and the way her scent continued to roll over him was more than his Bear could stand.

He strode forward, pushing past her so he could enter her quarters. From the look on her face, she wasn’t happy about him barging in, but she closed the door behind her, shutting in that gorgeous essence that was one hundred percent her.

He studied her a second, saw the waist-long, straight as a board hair that swung and swayed as she moved. She was tall, a half foot shorter than his six-five, and she was lithe and long with it. Her legs were bare in shorts he knew she’d changed into because she was in her room. He’d never seen her in anything so revealing, mostly because Mars would have killed her and any of the men who dared drool over her legs overlong.

Jesus, her father wouldn’t have been the only one setting the Challenges.

Her camisole was decent, but the low cut helped him see her ample breasts and he curled his fingers into fists as his palms tingled with the need to cup those firm mounds.

Her lips were pursed when he ceased gawking at her. She was pissed at his study. Those ruby red lips were soaked with irritation, and her emerald green eyes sparked with it too. She had a slender face, strong jaw, but her cheekbones weren’t all that high. Her eyes were almond shape and her nose was like a button... She wasn’t beautiful, not conventionally so, but she was gorgeous. Strong featured, proud, Ava was more beautiful than he knew how to handle.

She cleared her throat in a silent prompt which he ignored. Looking around her quarters, he was surprised at the innate romanticism in her choices because, as Mischa had said, she was a pragmatist at heart and this room said none of that at all.

It was soft and dusky. All shades of colors but muted and dampened down with the fabric she’d draped overhead and the blankets she’d used to cover the bed.

The TV and desk were the only doses of reality in an otherwise romantic room. She had three computer screens, all on, and all displaying so many different spreadsheets, his eyes wanted to cross from boredom.

Overhead, there was a TV which was playing some kind of soap from the looks of it. She had it on low, though, with subtitles running at the bottom of the frame.

Frowning at the sight of them, he asked, “Why the subtitles?”

She shrugged. “Habit.”

“Weird habit,” he remarked with a small smile.

“You have no idea,” she retorted, folding her arms over her chest and inadvertently plumping her breasts up so he could see the depth of her cleavage with ease. “What are you doing here, Chris? I’m busy.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it hadn’t been that. He’d never expected a dismissal.

Stung, he had to work hard to dampen down his irritation at her words. Had he expected her to greet him with open arms? Be grateful that he’d decided to visit her?

All in all, he wasn’t sure what he’d imagined, if not more than her dismissiveness.

“I wanted to check in on you.”

“You’ve never wanted to before. What gives?”

She had a point. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m worried about you. Worried about what I’ve been hearing.”

“You should know that gossip is just that. Gossip.”

“Not when it comes from Mischa, it isn’t. That’s not gossip, is it?” he demanded to know, and watching her wince, then firm her chin stubbornly, made him sigh all the harder. “Plus, I’ve heard shit. Seen it. You’re barely out of this room anymore.”

“It’s the only way I can get peace and quiet in this fucking place,” she retorted, hands sliding down as she propped them on her hips in annoyance. “And I didn’t think you were interested in what I was doing. You’ve certainly never seemed interested before.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he snapped, taking a strident step forward, closer to her. His Bear shrieked a warning that he had to ignore because he needed to impress something upon her. “You think my not Claiming you is some kind of betrayal on my part. Like I’m choosing to forsake you. Like I get a kick out of it. What you don’t fucking know,” he growled, “is that every moment we’re together and yet apart is fucking agony for me. You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t feel I’m being punished every time I watch you and have to walk away? You’re crazy, Ava, completely nuts if you think I get some kind of kick out of making us both suffer.”

Her face was paler than it had been before his speech, but her expression was just as cold. “I think you should leave,” was all she said to his impassioned words.

And that very lack of passion, in the face of his own, was the straw that broke the camel’s back.