Bryce McCabe sat on his motorcycle, staring up at the dusk shrouded Winters mansion. The dying February sun threw a purple light over the weathered gray bricks. The air smelled like snow, and although the mature forest surrounding the estate offered shelter from the elements, the wind was cold and bitter. The frozen air was unusual for Grayslake, Georgia, even in February, but he welcomed its stinging bite, hoping the pain would pull his sanity back.

Never had he and his wolf been so at odds with each other.

Wolf wanted what was inside the building. Bryce did too. He always had. Since he was seventeen and everything he wanted was a bright, beautiful sixteen and eons out of his reach. The distance between them didn’t bother wolf, the animal only knew it wanted. But Bryce understood all too well what wolf didn’t. Rogue wolves weren’t just loners, they were outcasts for a reason. The other wolves didn’t want him, and he’d be stupid to think anyone else would.

And yet here he was. Sitting outside the mansion that represented every single thing he wasn’t.

But when your mate calls and tells you someone is trying to kill her, you save her. Doesn’t matter if she has no clue who you are or that she’s even your mate for that matter.

You save her.

And then do whatever it takes to keep her from finding out the truth.

Gravel crunched as a large white SUV flashed between the trees lining the drive. It was an Agency issued vehicle, which meant his babysitter had arrived. With past tension between the Grayslake bears and wolves fading, the Agency was still something of a fledgling enterprise. Chock full of young alpha wolves and bears eager to prove their Itan or Enforcer potential, and Bryce still struggled to find his place even there.

Despite the approaching night, he traded his helmet for shades, wondering which ass-hat he was going to have to try and not kill this time.

But a lean female form climbed out of the front seat, twisting her dark hair back into a ponytail.

“Rae. I’m a bit surprised to see you here. I thought you were still on hire in Palm Beach.”

She nestled the holster of her pistol a little closer to her rib cage before shrugging on a black jacket. “I requested a transfer. Palm Beach sucks. Too many people, too much sand, and too much health food.” Rae slammed the door shut and offered him a genuine smile.

He only shook his head. Unlike the other operatives, Bryce’s rogue wolf didn’t unsettle Rae. She was a cat shifter and the deadliest panther he’d ever met. Her kind at least understood, if not respected, his solitary nature. The truth was that his way was probably more natural to her than the other wolves who needed their own kind like waves need the moon.

And assertive alphas that they were, most of the male members of the agency gave Rae shit just because she had a vagina. But Bryce could care less because, vagina or not, she was tough as shit and good at her job.

His mate would be well protected with both of them on this case.

“Director Miguel is none too happy with me.” She rolled her eyes, giving each arm a good stretch across her body. “I’m pretty sure he thought sticking me on this case with you was going to be a punishment. Jokes on him. I’d rather be working than stuck watching all the stupid in-love couples this weekend. Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”

Bryce grunted. He paid little attention to anything outside of work, as far as he was concerned, the holiday was just another ‘normal’ thing that had nothing to do with his life on the fringes.

She squared up to the grey brick mansion. “You’ve lived in Grayslake your whole life, right? Do you know the Winters? Anything I should be aware of before we go in?”

“The folder Miguel gave you probably knows more than I do.” It was a flat out lie. Bryce knew everything about the Winters. Wolf hadn’t cared when their entire pack up and left Grayslake, leaving him alone and homeless at eight. Wolf hadn’t cared when the only way to make money and survive was to become the bait dog for asshole teen shifters with nothing better to do than chew on someone smaller than them.

No, the only damn thing in the entire world that wolf had ever cared about was his mate. And they couldn’t fucking have her.

Rae sidestepped, her brows tipping together in concern. “You good, McCabe?”

He gave a terse nod. Yanking in the misery pushing at his own skin, he jerked his chin towards the house.

“Okay,” she drawled slowly, her concern not fading as she started moving towards the large pads of flagstones that built their way up to the massive door. “So, rich gazillionaire widower Charles Winters and his single heir, a daughter named after a fruit—”

“Clementine.”

“Yeah, like I said. Wealth is a mixture of old family money and, more recently, real-estate boons. Own land across the country, no estate more notable than the esteemed Winters Estate that we see here in all its some odd six thousand acre glory. We’ve been hired to protect the poster child of elegance that is the aforementioned daughter. Most notable for her work as a model, she is described as grace and beauty personified, and it’s pretty obvious she and I aren’t going to have a damn thing in common.”

The cynical edge in Rae’s voice rubbed Bryce’s nerves and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “She’s our client. You don’t have to have like her, but you do have to protect her. Besides, she’s very kind and sweet,” he added. “You might give her a chance.”

“Come on, McCabe. You and I have worked long enough for the one percent to realize that their media persona is a far cry from the truth behind closed doors.”

He did know, but he also knew in his bones that Clementine was different. She wasn’t just a beautiful face. She was everything good in the world.

Rae’s nose wrinkled. “She’s probably constipated and bitchy.”

“And you said you’d have nothing in common with her.”

“Wow, Bryce McCabe is making jokes.” She gave a deep laugh, easing up the steps. “For our sake I hope she surprises me, but I won’t hold my breath.”

“You did forget one thing about the Winters from the folder.”

“What’s that?”

“They’re squirrel shifters.”

Rae snorted in good humor. “I gotta tell you, the cat inside of me finds this really amusing. I really hope that somewhere on those six thousand acres is a really incredible treehouse or I’ll be super disappointed.”

“Yeah? So if I came to your apartment I’d find a giant litter box?”

“Wise ass.” She shot him a dry look before knocking on the door. “Who died and left you their personality?”

It was answered almost immediately by a middle-aged man with more pomade in his hair than meat on his bones.

“May I help you?” He posed in the doorway, the peach satin and feather robe he wore over his grey suit swirled around his feet. Then his nose twitched and he drew back as if personally offended by their scent. His eyes narrowed and he stuck the last bit of a caviar crusted cracker into his mouth.

Bryce instinctively glanced past him to the brown marble-wrapped foyer, looking for Clementine, his animal fiercely pushing to get out. Wolf wanted. Bryce struggled to contain him. Sweat stung his skin.

Rae shot a concerned look his way, but extended her hand to the man. “I’m Rae Everhart, this is Bryce McCabe. Miss Winters phoned our agency, and we’ve been sent to see to her.”

“Oh.” A crash sounded in the back of the house, and he extended his pinky towards it. “You’re just in time.”

Bryce tensed, elbowing into the house, uncaring that the smaller man sputtered and tried to toe him back out with a fine pointed leather shoe.

“Hey, now, beefcake. You can’t just barge your way in here. This isn’t the local dive bar.”

“She’s in danger.” He snarled back, trying to shake him off without hurting him.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. That’s my job.” He wrapped his arm around Bryce’s, snugly joining them at the elbows and freezing him in place. “The only thing in danger right now is her manicure and my Valentine’s date.”

Bryce shot a ‘help me’ look at Rae, but she grinned. In a professional tone that belied her enjoyment at his discomfort, Rae asked, “Are you in Mr. Winters’ employment?”

“What? Like his personal assistant or butler? Honey, exactly what about this outfit says that to you?” His sharp tone quickly melted into a wink, and he freed Bryce’s arm, only to push it up into the air. “Stay just like that.”

“Ah, okay.” Bryce froze again, strangling the wolf’s attempts to push through his skin and tear this fancy house down until they found Clementine.

The man knotted his sash and took ahold of Bryce’s hand. “Watch this!” He spun and the hem flared and swirled around him. A coral feather broke free and fluttered down onto Bryce’s shoe. “So old Hollywood, right? It’s viciously glamorous.”

Bryce realized he was talking to him and he gave a hasty nod. “Yeah, it’s…special.”

The other man giggled, turning to Rae. “This one doesn’t quite know what to do with me.”

“It’s not you. It’s him.” Rae tucked her hands on her hips. “Bryce isn’t really a people person.”

“I can’t fault him there. People do tend to suck. Especially for shifters like us who don’t quite mesh with the rest.” His nose wrinkled and he patted Bryce’s cheek. “Your wolf ain’t right, I can smell it. And I ain’t never been right so we’ll get along just fine.” He held out his hand. “Theodore Kennedy-Winters. I’m Mr. Winters’ mister.”

Bryce took the offer, but as Theodore hadn’t held it out for a shake but as a lady of the manor greeting a suitor, he awkwardly half bent over it. And Theodore sighed.

“And who says the straight ones are all charmless?”

“As a woman who dates the straight ones, they mostly are.” Rae chimed in, earning a hearty laugh from Theodore.

He took both their arms this time, leading them through the echoing marble foyer and towards the grand wooden staircase. “Well, as mister-ess of this house, I want to welcome you to our humble abode.”

“Mr. Kennedy-Winters—”

“Oh, no. Just Teddy. Please.”

“Teddy,” Bryce repeated. “Do you know who’s trying to kill Clementine?”

“Okay, I love that girl. I do. But no one is trying to kill her. Ever since her break up with her fiancé, she’s just gone down the rabbit hole, if you know what I mean.”

An old pain slithered around Bryce’s heart. He’d learned about Clementine’s engagement along with the rest of the world from a four-page spread of her and the blond banker in Gold Wealth magazine. Bryce could remember every moment leading up to that Friday night, skimming all the glossy magazine covers at the supermarket, picking up any that had her name on them. He bought a bag of saltwater taffy and a cherry cola because Clementine had once told Cosmopolitan that those were her favorite treats when she needed a break from her rigorous diet and Bryce liked to eat them and read about her. It made him feel close to her. And for a wolf who had no one, that little thing kept him going month after month, year after year.

Which was why her engagement had thrown his animal into a spiral. For as much as Bryce could still feel the sticky cling of taffy in his teeth and the magazine’s satin page under his fingers, he couldn’t remember a damn thing about the two weeks following that night.

His wolf took over, disappeared into the forest and raged. And when Bryce’s memories picked back up again from that time, he’d been a different man. Hollow. Broken.

And then last month, from over the din and noise of a corner diner at noon, Bryce heard the news that Clementine had called the engagement off.

Maybe that’s what this was. His wolf’s fucked up attempt at winning their mate.

“Bless his heart,” Teddy continued. “Her fiancé hasn’t given up yet. He is bound and determined to win her back.”

“And she’s,” his voice caught, “receptive to him?”

Teddy snorted. “Not at all. Clementine won’t see him and she’s forbidden her father and me to so much as speak his name. She’s cut her hair. Pawned off that enormous engagement ring. Hasn’t worn heels in two weeks. If you ask me, Clem doesn’t need body guards. She needs a shrink.”

Bryce glanced over Teddy’s head to Rae who met his questioning look with her own.

She asked, “So you don’t think her life is in danger?”

“No. My little girl is just going through a rough patch is all. But maybe now that you two are here, she’ll come out of her room and I can try to make some sense of the hack job she did on those gorgeous curls.”

The higher the staircase climbed the wider it grew until it opened into a large airy atrium with floor to ceiling windows that over looked the vast Winters land. In daylight, the view would be incredible.

“This is sort of like a tree house,” Rae said, her brow arched at Bryce.

Teddy shook his head. “You wouldn’t think that if you saw the real tree house.”

“You do have one!” She bounced and pumped her fist.

“Honey. We’re squirrels.”

Another crash sounded from the east wing and Bryce spun towards it, inadvertently dragging Teddy and Rae along with him. His wolf shot up, pushing at his skin to get out. Hair rippled over his body, his teeth sharpened to deadly points.

Teddy threw back his head with laughter. “Lord, you’re strong. Did I mention how much I like that?”

“McCabe.” Rae’s rebuke was sharp and concerned, her eyes ghosting over the hair still pulsing along his forearms.

He shook his head and yanked at his animal. Only years of restraining its rage gave him the power to now contain the wolf’s agonized worry for his mate. “I’d like to see to our client now.”

“Then come along.” Teddy pulled them towards one of the hallways, its entire south wall nothing but more windows. “When we know each other better, I’m going to ask you to carry me bridal style.”

Bryce glanced at the man’s fluttering robe then straight ahead again. “You’re a married man.”

“Oh, if you insist, you can carry Charlie too.”

“Who’s carrying me and where am I being carried to?” A deep voice flowed out from a short breezeway. “If the answer’s not young Sean Connery to the wine cellar then I’m not even remotely interested.”

They rounded the corner and Teddy ground them to a halt. An older man, balding and grey sat in a chair next to a closed door, his arms bent over his knees. He blinked at them.

“Charlie, this is Rae and Bryce. Clem hired them.”

“Ah.” Charlie stood. “The bodyguards. Know any good shrinks?”

“I already made the shrink joke.” Teddy released them, stepping up to offer his husband his cheek.

“You take all the good ones.” Charlie complained with a smile.

“This is not a joke! I am not a joke!” A feminine voice—pure, melodic and thoroughly pissed off—came from the other side of the door. The hair at the back of Bryce’s neck lifted.

“You’re a tragedy, darling. That hair!” Teddy wailed into the wood.

“I could care less about the hair. I just want her to come out.” Charlie rapped his hand on the frame. “Clementine! Come out this instant!”

“Didn’t work the first six hundred times, Dad, not going to work now.”

“Your body guards are here. Now come out of there and take one of your father’s valiums.” Charlie tried the doorknob.

Rae inserted herself at the doorjamb. “May I?”

Charlie backed up and she leaned against the frame. “Miss Winters? My name’s Rae. My friend Bryce and I have been assigned to you. Can you open the door please?”

“You smell….like a cat. Are you a big cat? Have you ever killed someone? Could you kill someone again?”

“Um, yes to it all.” She raised her brows in question to the two fathers.

“Shrink,” Teddy muttered, shaking his head.

Another crash vibrated through the floor and shook Bryce to the core. Envisioning all the possible ways in which she could be hurt, he hammered on the door over Rae’s head. “What are you doing in there? Get out here!”

Silence.

“Did you hurt yourself? Are you hurt?” He looked at Rae. “I’m taking the door down.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Relief washed over him when Clementine’s voice tried its best to eviscerate him from her side of the door.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Good. Now open the door.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure I hired you. I boss you around. Not the other way around. Go patrol.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know! Around!”

Charlie pulled a monogrammed handkerchief out and blotted at his forehead. “I’m sorry. Ever since the little incident with her fiancé—”

“Ex! Ex-fiancé!” She shouted through the door. “And it was as little as my ass used to be which is to say, not little at all!”

“Clemmy—”

“The bastard cheated on me!”

“Darling, you really shouldn’t call Grant such things.”

There was a loud thud and muted scraping. “Well, he shouldn’t have stuck his dick in that grossly overpaid excuse of a secretary—Gah! His secretary! I’ve become a fucking statistic because he boinked his secretary. I only have eyes for you, darling. I love you and only you. It’s a crock of shit. He’s a crock of shit. Love is a giant crock of stinking shit and I am so done.” The tirade ended on a shriek and more crashing rattled the house.

“Oh, I take it all back. This is a woman I can stand behind.” Rae’s amusement only irritated Bryce. Clementine was clearly under a great deal of mental duress if she was using such coarse language. Everyone knew she was a gentle, sweet woman who hated vulgarities.

And he hated this door between them. “Clementine, I will break this door down if I have to in order to perform my duties.”

“Oh, no you won’t!”

“Oh, yes I will.”

A snicker erupted at his side and he glared at Rae. She pretended to study her bit off finger nails and he scrubbed at his jaw.

Changing his tactics, he softened his voice and said, “Listen. I’m here to protect you. I can’t do that with a door between us.”

“I can protect myself!”

“And yet, you hired me.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

He couldn’t very well tell her the truth—that he was the one person on the entire planet she could put her absolute trust in. So he cleared his throat and lied. “If you die, I don’t get paid. I go hungry when I don’t get paid. And I don’t like being hungry.”

Quiet.

“You smell…different.”

“I’m a rogue wolf.” No sense beating around the bush. The sooner she realized that he didn’t have a place in society, the better. And the more he pounded that truth back into his wolf’s head, the better.

“Oh.”

More quiet.

The lock snicked.

Bryce sighed in relief then immediately sucked in a sharp lance of air that pierced through to his gut.

Those eyes were all he’d thought about for so long, and now here they were again. Angry, wrapped in purple eyeliner, but still the most haunting gold color he’d ever seen.

“Take off your glasses.”

“No.”

Her nose twitched, drawing his attention down to her obvious overbite. His arousal increased and Bryce flushed. Then Clementine blushed. And it was awkward.

Teddy fanned himself.

The motion distracted her and her mouth parted on a soft coo. “Oh, that color is so pretty on you.”

Teddy held the feathered collar up to his chin, eyes squinted with pleasure. “I feel so pretty.”

“Awe, I’m so glad my old clothes are going to have a good home.”

“Clem, you can’t get rid of all your clothes!” Charlie protested.

“Too late. If it’s not black, raging red, or pissed off purple, it’s not going on my body!” She threw the door open and struck an alluring pose, not unlike what Teddy had done downstairs.

And Bryce had to admit, the black fishnets were extremely hot. But the very red and very short athletic shorts thrown over them distracted from the sexy. And then there was the purple sequined top that Bryce could only explain as a once-evening-gown hacked into a ragged tank. The neckline plunged boldly and damn did he like that.

She waved her hand in the air. “Granted this isn’t the most conventional outfit, but it gets the message across. ‘Don’t. Fuck. With. Me’.” She framed her hands into a box, counting each imaginary word over her body.

Goosebumps shattered the surface of Bryce’s skin. This wasn’t the Clementine he’d known and loved from afar for years. This wasn’t the shy, coquettish female he spent his nights fantasizing about. This woman lifted her upper lip in reaction to his dumbfounded staring, her little snarl sending ripples of arousal over his body.

This woman made his wolf grin like a stupid mother fucker and terrified Bryce because she didn’t need protecting from him. He needed protected from her.

“Honey,” Teddy drawled. “You look like an institution escapee. I promise, girl, no one is going to come within a mile of you.”

“Good.” She whipped a sword out from behind the door, her smile stretching into devil-horned points. Devil-horned points with really adorable dimples. “Cause if they do, I’ll stab them.”

“Whoa, wow.” Rae jumped back. “Honey. Wow. That’s a sword.”

Clementine lowered the tip. “I fence. I like swords.”

“Right, well. Maybe, since we’re here, you should let us just have that?”

Clementine yanked backwards. “My sword. Get your own, bitch!”

Charlie buried his face in his hands while Teddy laughed.

Bryce rubbed the warm spot growing in his chest, unable to take his eyes off her. He hadn’t been prepared for this—for the most beautiful woman in the world holding him at sword point.

“Bryce,” Rae hissed from a safe distance. “Do something.”

He cleared his throat. “Okay, listen. Rae and I are professionals—”

The tip of her sword lifted. He lifted his hands.

“We are trained to protect you. The sword isn’t really necessary.”

“Or safe,” Rae muttered.

“You’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands.” She drew her elbows up, pointing it straight at his chest.

Bryce’s wolf shivered in excitement. This woman threatened to kill him and he was utterly charmed to his toes. “Teddy’s already assured me he’s the dramatic one in this house. Give me the sword. You’ll never have to worry about defending yourself so long as I’m near.”

“Cold. Dead. Hands.”

“She always was a stubborn child,” Charlie admitted.

“McCabe, I’m going to let you handle this. Charlie, Teddy, would you be kind enough to show me around. We need to discuss security measures.”

“But no one is actually trying to kill her!”

“I and my once not so little ass say he is.”

“Clementine.” Teddy folded his hands together. “I know I’m your favorite father, so I know you’re going to listen to me when I say this. You’re pulling a Britney Spears circa ’07.”

“Well, good for me because just look at her now! Strong. Fierce. Powerful.”

He threw his hands up. “I’ve done all I can do here. Charlie, I need a drink.”

“Good luck.” Rae clapped Bryce’s shoulder as she followed the men.

“And Clem, you’re a squirrel, not a raccoon! Lay off the eyeliner.” Theodore tossed back one more comment, his voice fading into the woodwork.

Bryce looked at Clementine. She looked at him.

They stood with the doorway and her sword between them.

“Take your glasses off.”

“No.”

“Is Bryce your real name? I was expecting someone named Ace or Remington. Something bad ass.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t need a fancy name to rip someone’s throat out.” He meant to shock her, to remind them both that he wasn’t anything she needed.

She only stuck her bottom lip out in thought. “Yeah, okay, I guess that’s true. Take your glasses off.”

“No.”

“My dads don’t believe he’s trying to kill me.”

“Why don’t you tell me why you think someone is?”

“Not someone. Him. My ex-fiancé. The exhole.” She snorted. “That’s good. Exhole.” Her nose scrunched and when she tilted her head, some of the erratic curls tipped to the side. She looked entirely too adorable with those freckles and those mind blowing eyes and the sharp gleam of her sword.

Trying to stay focused on her words and not the press of her breasts behind the sawed off prom dress, he cleared his throat. “Your exhole is trying to kill you?”

She started laughing. “It’s even funnier when you say it! Say it again.”

“Exhole.”

Clementine giggled. “Take your glasses off.”

“No.”

“So I have this favorite place in the forest—my squirrel and I. You know, I’ve got like this path I like to take. It’s hard, lots of long-distance jumping—squirrel triathlon, if you will. The last branch? The one that takes all my weight at the end of the mad dash? Someone sawed into it just enough that when I landed, it snapped. It’s a sixty foot drop with nothing between that branch and the pine needles on the ground.

Tension crept up the back of his neck. The image of terror etched on her face flashed across his mind. His wolf snarled deeply. “You look pretty good for someone who took a sixty foot body slam to the ground.”

“Branches breaking come with the territory. I’m a squirrel. That shit happens. It’s like cat shifters who wanna pretend like they don’t get hairballs. Puh-lease.”

“Focus.”

“Right. So I used the branch to launch off mid fall and caught enough of the tree with two nails that I didn’t go wham, bam, now I’m a pancake, ma’am.”

“And you think it was your exhole because…?”

Clementine’s brows twisted together and her foot nervously pushed into the carpet. “I can trust you?”

“Yes.”

“Take off your glasses.”

“Clementine.”

“Just, please. Eyes are the windows to the soul and I’m a firm believer in intuition and right now my gut says you’re…dangerous? But safe? And I don’t know, I need to see your eyes.”

He sighed. “We’ll make a deal. I remove the glasses, you put away the sword.”

“That’s hardly fair. You remove the glasses, I won’t point it at you.”

“I remove the glasses, you lay it aside but within hand’s reach.”

“Still highly tipped in favor for you, but okay.” She leaned it up against the open door then stared at him expectantly.

Bryce sucked in a deep breath. It had been sixteen years, she wouldn’t recognize him. All she’d see was what everyone else did. A rogue wolf from the wrong side of the tracks. And then she’d look away like everyone else did.

He pulled them off, slipping them into the collar of his shirt. “There. I want you to show me the branch—”

“Oh, my god.”

He ignored the breathless whisper. “The branch that was cut—”

“It’s you.”

Heat flared in his chest. He snapped his glasses back on.

“You’re the boy.”

“No, I’m no one.”

“You’re the boy that saved me. I looked for you! I looked everywhere! And now you’re here?” She rushed at him, arms wide and Bryce threw himself back.

Shaken and a little afraid of what the thought of her searching for him did to his heart and his poor lonely wolf, he forced a mask over it all. “Clementine—”

Whatever he was about to say disappeared when the lights flashed out and an enormous eruption shook through the house, the bright orange flame throwing alien light into her big eyes. Bryce barely had time to throw himself over her when the ugly, staggering sound of gunfire tore through the air.

She shook him off and grabbed her sword. “Oh, he did not just blow up my God damned mansion!”