Having wiped her face with the wet towel, Madisyn raised her brows at the tiger sitting across from her. “Did I get it all?”
Mr. “Please call me Mason” Grant seemed to be stifling a smile. “You got it all.”
She put the now-bloodstained towel on the edge of his desk and leaned back into the leather chair. Considering he owned the club, she’d expected the guy to be pissed at her for brawling with sows in the restroom. Instead, he seemed amused. Or maybe bemused.
She’d wanted to go straight home, but he’d insisted on calling Nick. She could tell he was worried that if he didn’t report to the Alpha straightaway, he’d end up on Shit Street, considering she was under the pack’s protection. Mason was also concerned that the sows might decide to wait outside the club for her. If anything happened to her, Nick might hold him responsible. She didn’t want to be the cause of a brawl between the shifters, so she’d agreed to wait for one of the Mercury wolves to come for her.
Madisyn cricked her neck and sighed. Her whole body felt stiff as she fought to ignore the itches that kept scuttling across her skin like swarms of beetles.
“You ready to tell me what led to the altercation?” asked Mason.
“Like I said, they tripped.”
“They’re maintaining the same thing. But we both know that isn’t true. I have CCTV, Madisyn. Can I call you Madisyn?”
“No.”
His mouth twitched. “I saw the footage, Miss Drake. I know what happened. But there’s no audio, so I don’t know what was said. It’s clear that they provoked you. Why?”
“Look, I’m sorry about the damages to the restroom, but I’m not sorry I smacked the shit out of those bitches.”
Mason cocked his head, staring at her curiously. “It was quite a surprise when I saw you shift on the footage. I’ve never met a pallas cat before.”
“Hmm.” Humans referred to her breed’s animal counterparts as Pallas’s cats or even manuls, but shifters stuck with “pallas cat.”
“My mother always said your kind is nature’s idea of a cruel trick. You’re walking, breathing plush toys—so fluffy and cute that people would never think there was a single thing dangerous about you. But you have an insane amount of attitude for creatures so small, and you just straight up don’t give a fuck. She said, ‘Poke at their patience, and wait for the craziness to commence.’”
Madisyn snorted. Her kind did have a somewhat elevated level of aggression, but they didn’t start trouble. They were just always sure to end it. Still, other breeds tended to dislike them simply because they were a little crazy. “All I did tonight was defend myself.”
“And why was it that you needed to defend yourself?”
She wasn’t about to tell him shelter business, so she lied. “They didn’t like that I was dancing with some guy—apparently he’s spoken for. You know bears can be pretty territorial.”
The door flew open, and there stood a tall, lean, solidly built figure of fury. The intensity in the room went up a gazillion notches. Bracken.
Madisyn’s hormones did a happy dance. He’d make any girl go all fluttery. Steely slate-gray eyes. Sensual mouth. Sharp cheekbones. Clean-shaven angular jaw. Short inky-black hair. There was no denying that he was very pretty to look at.
His appeal went deeper than that, though. Bracken was charged with power, dominance, and a dark, undefinable edge. He also radiated a quiet I-know-who-I-am-and-have-nothing-to-prove strength that was primitively compelling.
Once upon a time, there’d also been something approachable about him. Not anymore. Menace was stamped all over him. It was in the hard angles of his face, the direct gaze, the predatory posture, and the way he often held himself so unnaturally still—just as he was doing right then. Whenever he got this way, he made her think of a snake. Cool. Quiet. Deadly. Coiled to strike.
In short, Bracken Slater was not a person who was in danger of being ignored.
He was a package that Madisyn couldn’t help but crave. Of course, she’d never let him know that. She’d seen the kind of female he went for, knew she wasn’t his type. Plus, he’d been pursuing a margay cat shifter up until he’d lost his family, and he’d probably get back to that soon. But Madisyn liked the fantasy of him. There was something safe about wanting someone you couldn’t have—they could never hurt or betray you.
Bracken kicked the door shut and crossed to her. Watching him move was always a treat. Bracken never walked, he prowled. Slowly. Deliberately. Fluidly. Muscles deliciously bunched and rippled beneath his T-shirt and jeans. Oh yeah, she’d like some of that.
Her cat eyed him closely, drinking in his provocative scent of smoky cedarwood, warm cloves, and dark amber. The naturally cranky and highly unsocial feline got annoyed by people easily, but she found the wolf’s company somewhat tolerable. The cat liked his strength and aura of barely leashed aggression. Even liked the feeling of being so close to danger. But in her current mood, she’d still happily claw his face right off his skull . . . just because.
He scanned Madisyn from head to toe, taking in the grazes on her cheek and the blood on her clothes. His eyes flashed wolf, and a growl rumbled out of him.
“What happened?” His voice was a whip.
“Hello to you too,” snarked Madisyn.
“Mr. Slater,” greeted Mason with a nod. “Good to meet you. I’m Mason Grant.”
She saw respect in the tiger’s eyes, but there was also a hint of apprehension. Most people feared Bracken after what he’d done to the extremists. He’d gotten to men who couldn’t be gotten to. Found a compound that couldn’t be found. Killed people who were allegedly untouchable. And Bracken had earned himself a reputation as a most adept, indomitable, pitiless predator who would go to any lengths to get revenge . . . and woe befall anyone who blocked his path.
Not that he’d ever really been as laid-back as some people thought. What was it his Alpha female, Shaya, had once said to her?
“Very few people truly understand Bracken. He can be easygoing and playful, and he doesn’t argue much because it’s hard to offend him, but he’s got a temper that runs cold. I watched him beat the shit out of a guy, and not once did his expression show anything but utter indifference. I’ve seen him defeat an opponent with nothing but a punch to the temple and then go on about his day like it never happened. Bracken doesn’t explode. He becomes ice.”
Well, he’d lost the easygoing and playful side that Shaya had talked about. Sad as it was, there was rarely any . . . life in his eyes. Staring into them sometimes felt like looking in an open grave. Right at that moment, though, they were glittering with fury.
“Madisyn. What. Happened?” Bracken demanded, dominance radiating from him.
“Nothing I couldn’t deal with.”
“Miss Drake was confronted by sows in the restroom,” Mason cut in.
Bracken’s eyes sliced to the tiger. “Confronted?” he bit out. “Sows plural?”
“Yes, there were three. One of them felt she had a claim to the male Miss Drake was dancing with. She handled the situation. In fact, she was the only one standing when my security guard went to investigate a noise complaint.”
Bracken turned back to her. “Wait a minute. You got into a fight with three bears?”
“Not on purpose,” said Madisyn.
He snapped his teeth. “Where are they?”
“Sitting in a pool of shame.”
Rounding on the tiger, Bracken scowled. “Why didn’t you tell my Alpha this? You said she got caught up in an altercation.”
Mason sighed. “If I’d said that someone under your pack’s protection was attacked, a whole bunch of you would have appeared, ready to crush whoever harmed her. There was no need. Miss Drake defeated all three of them. We have CCTV. Even without audio, it was evident she acted in self-defense. She threw the first punch, yes, but they’d cornered her—all she did was make a preemptive strike. I banned the sows from the club and sent them on their way.”
“You’re not barring me too?” Madisyn asked.
Mason frowned. “For defending yourself? No.” He leaned forward, looking the height of concern. “It’s possible the bear clan will seek retribution—particularly since you’re a lone shifter, and you delivered a beating to the pride of three highly dominant females. It will be hard for them to let that go.” He plucked a business card out of the box on his desk. “If they give you trouble, call me.”
Bracken bristled, and his wolf bared his teeth. It was an honest-to-God struggle for him not to fist the tiger’s hair and slam his head on his own desk. “If she has trouble, she can call me or one of my pack mates.”
Mason shrugged and sank back into his chair. “It never hurts to have more friends.”
Yeah, but Bracken could see that Mason was interested in being much more than Madisyn’s friend. Which was her business, Bracken reminded himself. It was nothing to him. Not a thing.
“Let’s go,” Bracken told her. Crossing to the door, he yanked it open and tipped his chin for her to exit first. She didn’t rush. No, like any cat, she moved at her own pace. His wolf pushed up against his skin to be closer to her; he liked to watch her. Liked how she walked with poise, confidence, and a light-footed grace that had a note of catlike haughtiness.
As she reached the doorway, Mason said, “I hope to see you again soon, Miss Drake.”
“Uh-huh,” she said without even looking at him.
Madisyn followed a growling Bracken to the elevator. He jabbed the “Down” button hard. Anger was coming off him in waves, stirring her cat’s temper and prodding Madisyn’s patience. She couldn’t blame him for being annoyed that his night had been interrupted, but she hadn’t asked him to come.
A mild itch raced up her arm just as little contractions racked her womb. Fucking ow. This shit often happened when she was around strong, dominant males—as if her body sensed they could take care of the touch-hunger. And Madisyn did the only thing she could do. She hid it.
The elevator doors opened with a ding. They stepped inside, and he was still growling. Patience gone, she burst out, “Would you stop?”
Bracken ground his teeth. “The smell of your blood is pissing me off.” It offended both him and his wolf that someone had hurt her. The beast wanted to hunt them down and make them pay, uncaring that they were females. “They should never have touched you.”
Did it surprise Bracken that she’d taken on three dominant bears? No. She was a fucking nut. Did it surprise him that she’d overpowered them all? Well, yeah, considering they were sows—female bears were known to be even more vicious than the males. Yet, she’d escaped the encounter with nothing more than a few shallow claw marks on her face. That kind of strength was a turn-on for any dominant male, and he was no exception. Neither was the goddamn tiger.
Madisyn blinked as he snatched Mason’s business card out of her hand and tore it up. “What is with you?”
“Like I told him, you don’t need his help. Where’s the rest of your group?”
“What group?”
“The people you came with.”
“I came alone.”
Bracken stilled. “You came alone?” His wolf snapped his teeth, because that meant she hadn’t come here on a girls’ night out. She’d come here to fuck. A muscle in his cheek ticked. “I doubt your boyfriend will like that.”
Surprised he knew she’d been dating anyone, Madisyn frowned. “That’s over.” And she was offended that he’d think she would cheat on anybody.
“So you came here to fuck him out of your system.” Which didn’t bother Bracken. At all. Really. His wolf? That was different. The only thing that kept the beast’s dark temper in check was that there was no smell of sex on her. “How cliché.”
Madisyn snickered. “Give me a holler when you want your balls back, Slater—they’ve been in my purse for a while now.”
Bracken’s mouth twitched. “I wondered where they were.”
Madisyn just sniffed. She wanted to be alone. Her skin itched, and her nerves were frazzled. Worse, the spasms in her stomach were getting stronger, which was a sure sign that her libido would soon kick into gear. And it did not help that he was right there. With his long legs, strong build, and powerful presence, he seemed to take up all the space around him and suck the air right out of the elevator.
She huffed. “Could you move over a little instead of eating up all my personal space?”
Instead of snapping back at her, he slowly arched a brow. Even growly, he was all cool and controlled, whereas she was snippy and on edge. That only frustrated her more.
“Someone ate a full bowl of Bitch Flakes this morning.”
“Dude, I ate two.”
The elevator doors slid open, and he caught her arm. “Let’s get—” He frowned. “You’re hot.”
She pretended to misunderstand. “Well, thanks, Slater. Gotta admit, I didn’t think you liked me. Although I have noticed that your eyes stray to my breasts a lot.”
Well, they appeared to be very nice breasts—small but round and plump. Bracken would wax the crack of his ass before he’d admit she was right. He snorted. “I’ve eaten chicken breasts that were bigger than your tits.”
“And I’ve worn heels that are longer than the dick you appear to be packing,” Madisyn shot back. She stiffened as her skin tightened and prickled unbearably, as if something was stretching it. Used to the weird sensations, she ground her teeth as she rode the wave. Suddenly, Bracken was looming over her.
“What’s wrong?”
She forced her back teeth to unlock as the sensations faded away. “Is that a trick question? I was just attacked by three sows.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re hurting.” His eyes swept over her. “Where?”
“I have a headache, that’s all. Are we going or what?”
Shooting her a skeptical look, he pulled her out of the elevator. She didn’t want him touching her—his grip felt like a brand, and she seemed to feel it all the way to her bones. She didn’t like it at all. But pulling away from him wouldn’t work. It seemed best to let him lead her outside. The sooner they were out of there, the sooner she could get home.
Madisyn expected him to walk in front of her to block other bodies from touching her. Instead, he walked at her side as they crossed the dance floor, his hand on the back of her head, his body keeping hers neatly under the shelter of his shoulder as if he were a bodyguard escorting a celebrity through a crowd.
People exchanged respectful nods with him and briefly glanced at her, and she knew they wouldn’t forget seeing her with Bracken. Knew they’d get the message that she was under his protection. She also knew that was exactly why he’d done it.
Outside the club, he guided her straight to his SUV and yanked open the passenger door. “Get in.”
Hopping inside, Madisyn cursed under her breath as yet another cramp gripped her lower stomach. She was not at all looking forward to being in a confined space with Bracken—it would aggravate the touch-hunger, which was the last thing she needed.
Rattling off her address, Madisyn lowered her window, seeking cool air. She kept her gaze on the scenery as he drove, striving to pretend she was alone. But it was hard to ignore more than six feet of untamed animal energy.
God, she couldn’t wait to be home. A cold shower would help cool her down. She’d lived in an apartment when she’d first moved out of the shelter, but it hadn’t worked out so well. Maybe she should have felt comfortable living in a building that housed so many other people, considering the shelter was much the same, but she needed space. Quiet. Her house was small, but it was cozy. The neighborhood wasn’t low on crime, but her street was relatively quiet. That was good enough for her and—
“What’s wrong with your thigh?”
She blinked at him. “Nothing.”
Shit, she hadn’t even noticed. “What, you’ve never had an itch?”
Bracken’s hands clenched on the wheel. “So what went wrong with you and the boyfriend?”
“Like I said, it’s over.”
“He dumped you?”
She scowled at his presumption. “Not everybody hates me, Bracken.”
His brow creased. “I don’t hate you. But if you’re ever pushed into traffic, there’s a good chance that it was me.”
“Oh, that’s very nice.”
He sighed at the glower she slanted his way. “Can’t you take a joke?”
“Do you have one?”
Finding the familiar banter comforting, his wolf began to relax. Bracken would never say it aloud, but he enjoyed their spars. Respected her quick wit and that she could take shit just as well as she could give it. “What happened in the restroom?”
“I already told you.”
“No, Grant told me. You danced around my questions. Do you know the bears’ names or what clan they’re from?” Because he’d take the time to warn their Alpha not to even think of retaliating.
“I know they’re black bears.”
“And you’re still dancing around my questions,” said Bracken, pulling up at a red light. “Why are . . .” His brows snapped together as he noticed her scratching her thigh so hard, her nails were abrading the skin. “Shit, Madisyn, you’re going to make your skin raw.” He shoved her hand away and rubbed at her thigh, soothing the grazes, and . . . he honestly didn’t know what happened. Suddenly, his hand was gone from her thigh, and the tips of her claws were pressed to his throat.
Her eyes turned cat, and they glowed with indignation and a clear threat. His wolf pushed to the surface and looked out at the feline. Instead of challenging the dominant move as Bracken would have expected, his wolf let out a sort of . . . soothing “You’re safe with me” rumble that was meant to calm and reassure the feline.
She hissed—a warning not to test her. And then both animals retreated, and Bracken found himself looking at Madisyn again. “What was that about?” he asked.
She lowered her hand and stared straight ahead. “Nothing,” she said stiffly. “My cat’s just a little wound up after the scrap with the bears.”
Seeing the traffic light had turned green, he shifted gears and drove forward. “Back on that subject, what exactly happened?”
“Jesus, Slater, you’re like a dog with a bone.” So it didn’t surprise Madisyn that he continued to question her as he drove. She told him nothing. Shelter business was shelter business—simple. More annoying than his incessant questions was that the cramps in her stomach were getting worse.
She sighed in relief as he pulled up outside her house. “Thanks for the ride,” she said, snapping off her seat belt.
“There a reason why you have crop circles in your front yard?”
“Freaks out the old bastard next door.”
He frowned. “Why is he a bastard?”
“He doesn’t like shifters and is pretty verbal about it. See ya.” She’d only taken a few steps up her path when heat rushed to her head, blurring her vision, and pain smashed into her stomach. She stumbled, almost going ass over tit. And then Bracken was there, helping her into the house.
“What the hell is wrong, Madisyn? Are you sick? I can call Ally. She—”
“No,” said Madisyn, blinking as if it would clear the black spots dotting her vision. Touch-hunger wasn’t something that could be healed; it didn’t work that way. Refusing to go any farther than the hallway, she lifted her chin and did her best to look the picture of composure. “I’m good now.” Okay, that was a lie. The only reason she was on her feet was that her cat was shouldering some of the pain.
“I know you don’t like asking for or accepting help, Madisyn, but—”
She bristled. “You don’t know me.”
His head slowly tilted. “Scares you that I might, doesn’t it? What, you don’t want anyone getting too close?”
She snorted. “If it were that, you’d be in no position to judge. The attachments you have to the people around you make you feel suffocated, don’t they? Make you feel like you’re stuck in a crowded closet. You want to be alone, and yet you don’t, but you think you deserve to be alone. You want your pack mates close, but you won’t give much of yourself to them anymore.”
His brow lifted. “Is your psychoanalysis supposed to put me on the defensive and make me back off?”
“I don’t give a tinker’s shit what—” A powerful cramp racked her stomach, and she doubled over. “Fuck.”
“You need to tell me what the hell is wrong, and you need to do it now.”
She backed away and forced herself to straighten. “I want you to leave.” She needed him to leave. His scent and proximity were not helping.
Bracken put a hand to her forehead. She was hot. Itchy. Snippy. Irritable. In pain . . . Ah, shit. “Touch-hunger.” How the fuck had he missed that? She doubled over again. Bracken swore and backed her into the wall. Her eyes flashed cat, and her claws sliced out. If he hadn’t caught both her wrists and pinned them high above her head, he’d be missing layers of skin now.
Keeping her wrists in place with one hand, he slipped his other under her top. “Shh, it’s all right,” he whispered into her ear as he softly stroked her stomach. “Breathe with me, come on. Breathe. That’s it.”
He could feel the cramps beneath his palm. They were so strong, he had no idea how she hadn’t crumpled to the floor. He also had no idea how she could be suffering from touch-hunger when she’d been in a relationship until recently. It didn’t make any sense, but now wasn’t the time to question her.
He kept on massaging her stomach and whispering soothing words into her ear, hoping the skin-to-skin contact would help, ignoring just how incredibly soft said skin was. Her cat either settled or weakened under the pain, because the fight leached out of her. His wolf rubbed up against her, wanting to offer comfort.
The strength of the contractions soon began to ease, but then something else happened—the scent of her need drifted up to him, potent and heady. It made his head spin and his blood thicken. Within seconds, Bracken’s cock was full and heavy, straining against his fly. A hungry growl rumbled out of his wolf, whose sole focus was her.
Bracken met those stormy blue eyes, almost groaning as he saw the glaze of need there. She was panting softly, lips parted, and all he could think about was biting down on that fleshy lower lip. Her breasts heaved with every ragged breath, drawing his attention to the creamy globes. Fuck, her nipples were tight little points, and they made his mouth water.
“Leave,” Madisyn rasped, embarrassed by her lack of control over her own damn body. The air seemed to crackle and hiss with sexual energy, and that was provoking the touch-hunger. “It’ll pass quick if you go.” And if he didn’t leave, she’d jump on him. She would. There’d be no stopping it. Not when she felt so empty and needy. “Leave.”
Bracken shook his head. “You need me right now.” He slammed his mouth on hers and sank his tongue inside . . . and he knew instantly that it was a mistake. Her taste—sweet and exotic—could easily set up an addiction in him. But fuck if he could stop.
Crushing her against the wall, he punched his hips forward, grinding against her clit, swallowing her raspy, cock-hardening moan. No one should taste this good. No one.
Releasing her hands, Bracken fisted her hair and angled her head, going deeper, taking more. Demanding more. She gave as good as she got—tugged on his hair, sucked on his tongue, bit his lip, scratched at his nape, arched into every rough glide of his cock over her clit. And he couldn’t deny he fucking loved it.
A voice in the back of Madisyn’s mind screamed that this was bad, that he wasn’t attracted to her, that he was just helping her. Pride dictated that she must push him away, but her pride was kicked aside by the need washing over her in waves.
His rough touch was just shy of pain—she liked it. Liked the way he ate at her mouth as if he couldn’t get enough. Liked the way he never hesitated or tested her responses. He just did what he wanted as if he had every right.
What she didn’t like was that he didn’t seem to be in any rush to make her come. He seemed to be busy indulging himself—pinching her nipples, sucking at her neck, squeezing her ass. It was both pleasure and torture, and she couldn’t take it anymore.
Sliding her hands under his shirt, she tried pulling him closer—it didn’t work. “Bracken.”
The note of command in her voice made Bracken growl. He snapped his gaze to hers. “Not done.” And then he yanked down the neck of her top, freeing her breasts, and sucked her nipple into his mouth. He snarled at the sharp prick of her claws on his back. He smelled his blood and knew she’d broken the skin. Marked him. It should have pissed him off, should have made him pull back. It didn’t. He sucked harder on her nipple, letting her feel the edge of his teeth.
Her hand tugged hard on his hair as her breathing sped up, and he realized she was close to coming. No. He wanted to feel her come. Bracken flipped up her skirt, snapped off her thong, and cupped her hard. “Soaking.” He speared two fingers inside her. Jesus, he’d never felt a pussy so hot in his life. It was like a fucking inferno.
He wasn’t gentle; that wouldn’t get her off right then. No, he roughly plunged his fingers into her tight pussy over and over, just as he wanted to do with his cock. She moaned against his mouth, gripping his hair as if he was the only anchor she had. His wolf urged him on, fed his need to feel her come all over his hand. And it was a need. He had to see and hear and feel her shatter.
As her inner walls started to flutter and quake around his fingers, Bracken thumbed her clit. “Come, Madisyn. Now.” Her head fell back as she came, clenching and rippling around his fingers. His cock throbbed, aching to be in her right there and then. As he looked at her bared neck, he couldn’t help it. He bit her. Hard. Tasted blood. Didn’t fucking care. He just bit down harder, and his wolf growled his approval.
Needing to get his cock in her more than he needed to breathe, Bracken tore open his fly and—
His cell phone rang, acting like a bucket of ice-cold water and jerking them both out of the moment.
Flushing, Madisyn silently cursed herself and cleared her dry throat. She expected to see regret in his eyes. Instead, there was a savage need that made her breath catch. “You can have your hand back now.” The fingers inside her scissored, setting off a quake in her pussy, and then he ever so slowly withdrew them—holding her gaze the entire time.
When he backed up, Madisyn quickly righted her clothes as he buttoned his fly. The cramps had stopped, the edginess had gone, and her skin no longer burned. But her neck was stinging and—
Her eyes flew to his . . . just in time for her to watch him suck his fingers clean. Her stomach clenched. “You drew blood,” she accused.
“So did you.”
She inwardly winced. She hadn’t meant to mark him. She’d just been frustrated that he was taking his sweet time, and she’d pricked him with her claws in punishment. She’d just pricked him much too hard. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t return the apology, just stared at her. She almost snorted—the guy was a law unto himself.
Peering around him, Madisyn glanced in the hallway mirror. And her mouth fell open. The bite was deep, distinctive. It would heal, of course, since it wasn’t a claiming mark, but . . . “That’s gonna scar.”
“I know.”
She gaped at him. “That’s all you have to say? What the hell were you thinking?” Had he been thinking? She hadn’t. She’d been too busy drowning in sensation. And now she was drowning in sheer embarrassment. She’d been all over him. She’d clawed him. She’d come apart around his fingers. And he’d only made her come as a favor.
Her cheeks flamed. She’d known he didn’t really want her, but she hadn’t stopped it. Hadn’t even thought of objecting. No, she’d ignored the little voice in her head and had taken everything he could give her. Would have let him do whatever the hell he wanted. Dumb, Drake, real dumb.
Bracken’s cell rang again, but he didn’t answer it. He ate up the short distance between them with one stride. “I can sense that your body has settled down now. When the touch-hunger flares up again, you come to me.”
Shocked, words failed her for a moment. “To you? You can’t be serious.”
“I’m deadly fucking serious.”
“I have my pride, Bracken. I don’t want to be finger-fucked again as a favor.”
Looming over her, he frowned. “You think I made you come as a favor?”
“You would never have touched me that way if it hadn’t been for the touch-hunger,” she insisted. “Never. In light of that, you’re not the person I’ll be calling if I need—”
Eyes flashing quicksilver, he gripped her jaw. “Hear me, Madisyn. If you let another guy touch you while my mark is on you, I’ll snap his fucking neck. I will, and I won’t even care. So I repeat: when the touch-hunger flares up again, you come to me.”
Madisyn hissed. “You’re not being rational.”
“That’s not a rarity these days.” Softening his hold on her jaw, he breezed his thumb over her plump lower lip, regretting that he hadn’t left an imprint of his teeth there. “Me, Madisyn, you come to me.” With that, he released her and headed to the front door. Just as he opened it, she spoke.
“And if I don’t?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Be prepared to live with the consequences.” Stepping outside, he said, “Lock up behind me.”
Crossing to the door, she watched as he headed to his SUV and skirted around it to reach the driver’s side. Then he looked up. Met her eyes. And she saw the warning there not to ignore his—
Tires screeched as a vehicle slammed into Bracken, sending him sailing into the air. Heart leaping, she raced down the path and onto the road, where he was sprawled on his back, eyes closed, head bleeding. “Oh God.” Part of her wanted to chase the offending car hightailing it out of there—especially when she saw Leanna leaning out the passenger window, smirking—but Madisyn instead dropped to her knees at his side. “Bracken? Bracken!”
Even through the ringing in his ears, Bracken heard the female voice. It dragged him partially out of the fog, and he forced his eyes open. Everything was a blur. Fuck, his head hurt. The pain was blinding. All he wanted was to sleep. But that voice kept him where he was . . . like an anchor.
“Ally, you have to come to my—Oh, thank God! Please hurry.” Madisyn pocketed her phone. “Bracken, you keep those fucking eyes open! I called Ally. She’s already on her way—she had a premonition or some shit.”
He double-blinked to clear his vision, and stormy blue eyes locked with his. Sucked him right in like a Hoover until they were all he could see. Everything else around him just faded away. There was a wrenching sensation in his mind just as raw sexual need slammed into his system, rushed through his veins, and sent his thoughts spinning. The urge to take and possess and claim beat at him mentally, physically, and emotionally.
His head, already pounding, hammered even harder, making his skull feel like it would explode. And then, as if his brain just couldn’t take the intensity of the bond’s tug right then, the pull disappeared—like it was snapped back on an elastic. He blinked, vision darkening around the edges as sleep began to drag him under.
The raw need was gone. The tug of the bond was gone. But the knowledge was there.
Mate. Madisyn Drake was his true mate.
It was the last thought he had before his world went black.