Braxton “Brawn” O'Brien swung at the hanging bag and landed a solid fist against the leather. Each sting against his skin sent a wave of adrenaline through his body, aching for more. He lived for the fight. He trained for combat, for the kill.

His long taut arm pulled back for another punch, this one connecting dead center, launching the bag across the room. He forgot to control himself, again. As a shifter, he was far stronger than any of the other SEALs on his team, or in his company. He had to keep it on the down-low, as being a shifter in the Navy still wasn't commonplace, and he didn't want to freak anyone out.

Some of his close team members knew, some still didn't. He wasn't really trying to hide it from them, but at the same time he never knew how to work it into conversation, especially after several years had passed. They worked as a well-oiled machine for so long under certain pretenses, it was hard to just toss a wrench in that. He never felt the time or place was right. If it came out on the battle-field to save a life, so be it. Sure, he'd used his superior sense of smell, eyesight, and preternatural strength in human form, and the guys razzed him about it. But so far, he hadn't had to fully shift on a mission. They just chalked it up to him being a freak of nature. Little did they know just how right they were.

Malik “Steel” Thompson, his team lead, was one of two people who knew. Ezra “Jinx” Helm was the other. Mainly because Jinx picked up on it from the start, recognizing the preternatural signs, since Jinx was a witch. Something else most of the guys didn't really know, even though the entire SEAL team were practically brothers. But even brothers had their secrets.

Steel whisked away his sunglasses and stared Brawn down from across the room before picking the bag up and tossing it out of the way. “They're gonna make you test for steroids if you keep that shit up.”

Brawn ran a hand through his shaggy hair and let out a huff. “Just blowin' off some steam. We haven't had a mission in a couple weeks. Gettin' antsy.”

Steel's deep-set eyes narrowed. “That's what has me worried. The last mission you nearly took out several civilians trying to get to the target. And you destroyed an entire city block worth of vehicles. You need to cool your shit. Your head's not in the game, Brawn. You're gonna get pulled permanently if you keep this attitude up.”

Brawn closed his fists and reopened them, staring at his hands. “I don't know. I just have this… this urge inside me. I need to rip into something. Do we have new orders yet?”

“Is this a testosterone thin, or a wolf thing?” Steel folded his arms.

Braxton jerked his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can't send you out if you're going to go rogue and not follow orders again. You seem to have some anger issues boiling, and if you can't figure out what's causing them, then you can't fix them. I can't have your ass in the field threatening to compromise a mission again.”

“I promise. I've got it under control.” The lie pricked his heart. He had no idea what the hell was causing his anger, his need to claim, conquer, destroy. Something stewed inside him, an angst like he'd never known in his twenty-six years.

Steel sighed and ran a hand along his bald brown head. “I have to give you leave. Medical orders.” He handed over a manila envelope. “You need to take some time off to find your zen and get your ass back to being a SEAL.”

“Steel, come on, are you serious?” Brawn looked at the papers and rage boiled in his blood. A fiery heat flamed his body. It took everything in him not to throw a punch.

Fuck. Maybe Steel was right. He had to calm the hell down. He had no idea where the firestorm inside him stemmed from.

Steel's lips pursed to a thin line. “So, are we clear?”

Brawn growled and managed a nod. “Crystal.”

Steel gripped Brawn's shoulder. “Don't make me throw a blade at your ass. You're one of my brothers, and I want to keep it that way. You need to figure this shit out and bring back the Brawn we need on this team.”

Brawn nodded again as Steel turned and stalked out of the workout room. He let a long sigh ride his lips as he plunked against a bench and scrubbed a hand along his face.

Two more members of his team walked into the gym, Hound and Digger.

“What's eatin' ya, Brawn?” Digger asked, slapping a hand on his back.

He hated to admit he had a problem to himself. But he hated it more that he had to now tell his teammates. “Steel just put me on medical leave.”

Hound spun around at his locker. “What the hell for?”

“Anger issues, apparently.” Brawn chucked the paperwork to the floor.

Hound glanced to the ground then to Brawn. “Can't imagine why. It was the car thing in Russia, wasn't it?”

Brawn glared at him, then eased off. “I guess, something like that.”

“Maybe you just need to get laid, man.” Digger punched him in the shoulder. “You need a release. You're punching your fists when you really need to be plunging your—”

Hound raised a hand and cut him off. “We get it, Digger.” He glanced back to Brawn. “But, dude's got a point. I mean, maybe it's just pent up sexual frustration brewing. You don't have a girlfriend. You haven't even hit a Frog Hog in forever.”

“Easy for you to say, now that you're with Jayla. You can get some whenever you want.” Brawn shook his head with a laugh.

He hadn't had a girlfriend in so long, he wouldn't even know what to do with one. He was used to the Frog Hogs, the SEAL groupies who hung out at bars just waiting for a sailor to come to port and order her up like a menu item. But for the last several months, Brawn had zero interest in one night stands. Maybe he did need to get laid.

“Hey, it took us a while to get where we are. You know Jayla and I had our share of issues. But I'm definitely a better man because of her.”

Brawn chuckled at the goofy grin plastered on Hound's face as he talked about his girlfriend. Yeah, he'd like to eventually settle down himself someday, but he was a SEAL. At least Hound's girl was a CIA spy. She knew the game and was gone as much as he was. Finding a girl willing to deal with a military life wasn't always easy.

Not to mention he was a shifter, and once they mated, they did so for life. Brawn wasn't sure he was ready to give up the girl in every port lifestyle, even though lately it had worn thin on him. The same types of women always showed up, and he needed something new. Something different. Someone worth fighting for.

Brawn grabbed his gym bag and shook hands with his teammates. “Don't miss me while I'm gone.”

“You could always get a blow-up doll,” Digger shouted after him with a laugh.

“I wouldn't want to take any away from you, asshole.” Brawn whipped him the finger while laughing in return.

Hound slapped him on the back as he walked out. “Later man. Take care of yourself.”

Brawn nodded and headed to his car just as his phone rang. Great, his mom. While he loved his mother dearly, the last person he wanted to talk to right now was his momma, especially about getting put on medical leave from the Navy for his anger issues.

With a grunt, he begrudgingly answered. “Hey, momma.”

“Oh, Braxton, so glad I caught you. I need you to go see Gerri right away,” she said.

“Gerri? As in the odd shifter lady who runs the Paranormal Dating Agency?” Shit, did everyone know he needed to get laid? Coming from his momma, that was just fucking creepy.

“Well, yes. She called me and wondered if you were available to help her with a client. She has a human who needs a bodyguard for a couple days. I know you just got back from a mission, so I thought maybe you'd have some leave time. Gerri's helped our family in many a pinch. I would appreciate it if you could do this for her.”

Nothing like mom laying down the guilt trip. Gerri had a penchant for matching shifters with their mates. If that was indeed where his angst issues stemmed from, then maybe she could help him if he helped her with this bodyguard issue. “Oddly enough, I do have some leave time now.”

“Oh, good. Stop by and see her. Then you come home and see your momma.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Braxton's lips curled to a smile. He did miss his family, and since he now had the time, he might as well make an effort to see them if he could. Tomorrow was never a guarantee for a SEAL.

Braxton knocked on Gerri's door.

“Come in. Come in,” Gerri yelled from inside.

He shrugged and let himself in. “You know, that's not very safe. What if I was planning to rob you?”

The short white-haired woman stalked out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Really, Braxton, like I couldn't smell you a mile away, even buried under all that unnatural Eau de Stink you men like to call cologne. Besides…wolf.” Her bright blue eyes flashed to gold and back again.

Braxton nodded. “Right.”

Gerri walked a circle around him. “Well, you certainly grew up well. Look at you. A SEAL and everything. Mariana raised herself a good boy, even if he hides his true nature.” The smirk covering her lips oozed disapproval. His mother must have held nothing back in their conversations. He didn't remember meeting Gerri, but she and his mother were friends from different packs.

“It's not so easy in the military, Ms. Gerri. Guys get hazed enough, let alone if they knew I was a wolf. I don't want to do special bomb retrieving bullshit missions. I want to be a SEAL, a normal one, like the rest of my team. Doesn't mean I'm not proud to be a wolf. I just want two separate lives.” Brawn planned on eventually telling his team, somehow. He just didn't know when. All his life he'd been the smallest of his pack, the runt of the litter. But as a SEAL, he stood out among the humans, bigger and stronger. Able to run faster, swim better, harness his advantages. He was like a machine, and people counted on him. In his pack, he was nothing. In the military, he saved lives.

“There'll come a time when those lives will merge, and you'll find that hiding who you are will be a disadvantage. You should flourish in all that you are, Braxton. Not hide from it.” Gerri handed him a note with an address on it.

“I'm not hiding. I'm just not flaunting my shifter nature like some do.” Brawn scanned the paper with the address and name Sylvia Schneider on it. “This the girl who needs a bodyguard?”

Gerri nodded. “Meet her there at eight tomorrow morning. You'll be accompanying her to a convention. She works for my godson's company. There have been internet threats against her recently, and he's worried someone could do something while she's Vegas.”

Seemed easy enough. Usually threats were just internet trolls wanting attention. Most of them didn't come out of their parent's basements long enough to actually do anything. And, Vegas, it was sounding better already. “Got it. She'll remain unharmed. So, I was thinking…you know…about your dating agency, that after this mission maybe we could talk about—”

Gerri held up a hand and brimmed a wide grin. “Don't you worry about a thing, I've got it taken care of.” She winked.

Now he just had to make it the next couple of days without hulking out on anyone and maybe Gerri would help him find a mate. “Cool. Thanks, Ms. Gerri.”

“Oh, no. Thank you, Braxton.” She smiled and closed the door behind him.