Planning for the big event should have taken weeks or months, at least that’s what they’d all thought. But then again, Cage hadn’t ever tried to do something outside of the warehouse he’d converted into a fighting venue. The promoter on the other hand, had put so many of these events together that once they plugged in the local fighters that drew in the biggest crowds it seemed like all the pieces fell into place in a matter of hours.

Lying in bed with Maggie the night before the event, Cage looked at the clock on her nightstand.

Her hand moved over his chest, her fingertip brushing over his nipple and back again until it was tight and pebbled between her fingers.

“I’m not sure we have time,” Cage growled into her hair.

“Time for what?” She moaned and shifted against him, pillowing her head on his shoulder and tracing a smooth languid circle over his heart.

He heard the beep of the electronic clock and groaned. “Fifteen minutes and I have to go back.”

Cage felt the lift of her cheek against his skin and knew that she was smiling. He also felt the smooth glide of her hand as it slipped under the blanket and her fingers pushed through the rough hair at the base of his cock. And when she wrapped her hands around his length and drew her hand up to the tip in one long, heated squeeze, he was gasping for air. “Shit.”

She turned her head and bit into the flesh of his shoulder, just enough for him to hiss from the pain. Maggie soothed the sting with her tongue and he felt his cock jump in her hand.

“You’re a dangerous woman, Maggie.”

“Then I’m a good match for you, Cage.”

Her hand stroked him again and his growl filled the room.

She tucked an elbow under her body and searched his face. “Should I stop? I don’t want you tired for tomorrow.”

His hand joined hers, tightening her grip. “If you stop now, I’ll be useless for tomorrow. I’ll go into the ring hard.”

A moan poured from her lips. “And I wouldn’t see it,” she pouted.

“I’d likely kill my opponent from frustration alone.” He lifted his hips up, thrusting up into her downstroke. “You’d have to visit me in prison.”

“Prison sex could be hot.” She bit into her bottom lip and he felt the tight press of her hardened nipple against his ribs. “But I’m guessing that means you want to finish before you go?”

“Don’t tease me, Maggie. I’m wound too tight as it is.”

Her pout deepened. “Do you trust me, Cage?”

He narrowed his eyes at her as he met the stroke of her hand with another thrust. “You’ve got my cock in your hand, Maggie. I’d be crazy to say anything else. But the truth? Yeah, like that,” he huffed out a breath as her finger swept over the tip of his erection before she stroked down toward the base, “but yes, you know I trust you.”

She grinned and got up on her knees as she let go of him.

“Hey,” Cage’s hand raised up and threaded his fingers through her hair. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere, baby… just watch.”

Maggie wasn’t a shifter, but damn, she was fast.

Straddling his knees, she braced her hands on the bed on either side of his waist.

He reached out to touch her breasts and she smacked his hand away.

“No distractions.”

“Touching your body,” he promised her, “isn’t a distraction. It’s a lifelong goal.” Still, he let his hand fall to his side, “but I’ll let you have your way with me… as a favor.”

Her eyes brightened with a spark. “A favor? Ha! We’ll see who gets the favor, hmm?”

Before he could answer she leaned over and licked his cock from the base to the underside of the tip.

Cage’s hands clawed into the bedding, his back bowed from the bed. “Fuck!”

“Not yet, baby. Not yet.”

When his ass hit the bed, he gazed down at her with wide eyes, dark like the shadows in the deep recesses of the room. “Maggie, don’t play.”

“Oh,” she grinned, a slow Cheshire-like smile, “you’ll like this game.”

Cage opened his mouth to speak and took his words away.

She wrapped a hand around his shaft and lowered her head.

Her hair fell forward, obscuring his view with waves of her natural curls, but he didn’t need to see to know what she was doing.

The heat of her mouth enveloped the head of his cock, the wet scratch and slide of her tongue sent white hot sparks through his blood. Between her hand and her mouth, she moved the sensations up and down his erection as if he was chasing the rush of an orgasm. And Maggie, she was getting him there fast.

“I need to see you.” He swore under his breath. “I need my hands in your hair.”

She lifted her mouth away and he nearly lost his mind. “Do it. Do it, Cage.”

And then she was back, her mouth welcoming him home.

He lifted one hand and then the other, fisting his hands in her curls. He craned his neck, feeling the strain down the sides, his muscles tensing with need. Cage pulled her hair back from her face and when she pulled her mouth toward the tip she looked up at him and he swore a blue streak. “Your mouth, damn it!” Her lips were wrapped around him and even though she didn’t even wear a bit of makeup on her face, her lips were cherry red from the rush of blood under her skin.

Her eyes, half-hooded in desire, met his eyes and he felt her moan against his cock.

“Yes! Maggie, yes…”

He felt her mouth change, the sides pulling tighter, and he knew why. She smiled while she was sucking him deep and then the tip bumped the back of her throat and slid down even further that was it for him.

The shout that erupted from his throat was more animal than man, a primal scream of possession and ecstasy. He felt her silken curls against his palms, knew he might be hurting her and tried to let go, but he felt her free hand reach up and hold his hand against the back of her head.

Maggie moaned against him again and he could feel the shiver that rolled through her and into his body. She enjoyed his hands and far be it for him to take that away from her.

He rode the streaks of fire that lanced through his body, felt the thick ropes of his cum spill into her mouth, and by the time he was laid out on the bed, shaking from exhaustion, Maggie lay sprawled beside him, her cheek against his hip.

He tried to sit up, but part of him felt as week as a kitten. Still, the jaguar inside of him felt like a god of nature, pacing and roaring out his pleasure deep inside their link.

Mate, he pushed at Cage. Make her ours.

She is ours, he argued back

Cage felt his jaguar shove into his mind and showed him images of what he wanted. What they needed.

Maggie’s throat bared to them, his mouth breaking the skin just to the side of her neck, her blood hot and warm trickling from the corners of their mouth.

But the clock beeped again, and he knew he had to go back to their cub. He had to make sure that Frances was safe. And Maggie?

He found the strength to sit up, reach down, and pulled her up into his arms for one last drugging kiss on her lips.

Cage laid her head on the pillow and covered her luscious body with her blanket. Slowly, he slipped from the bed and reached down for his pants.

He should have gone at that moment, but he couldn’t resist one more kiss.

She roused then, her eyes fluttering open for a second before she smiled. “Going?”

“Yeah, baby. I’ve got to go to-”

“Frances,” she sighed. “Yes… go, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She snuggled deeper into the bed and managed to touch his arm for one last stroke of her fingertips along his skin. “Night…” she sighed, “love you.”

Cage stood by the side of the bed, stunned into silence. He wasn’t sure she knew what she was saying, but he wasn’t going to wake her up to question her, not now.

Once this whole custody thing was out of the way, he was going to take her on a weekend away. Somewhere Maggie would think was romantic. A place that would make her happier than she’d ever been, a place where he would do right by her human ways and his own. He’d give her the ring and mark her with his bite and then everything would be okay.

Finally.

For both of them.

* * *

The next morning, the way that Cage had smiled at her as he entered the diner behind Frances, had set her nerves buzzing. When he came into the kitchen to help her get down the plates, he’d found some reason why he had to be behind her and press his body along her back.

Frances must have sensed something in the air, because during breakfast she spent much of her time looking from Maggie to Cage and back again, her eyes sparkling amber with mischief. There was something about the mood in the room that even Frances couldn’t complain about the extra early hour that they’d served the meal, because Cage had to get all the way to the other side of downtown near the bridge to get to the Arena.

As he finished the last sip of coffee in his mug, Cage sat back to look at both of them. “You two going to be okay today?”

Maggie laughed. “Don’t worry about us.”

He got up from his chair and moved toward Maggie while she got up on her feet. Cage took her by the shoulders and pulled her close, slanting his lips over hers for a searching kiss. He broke away when she heard laughter, nearly smothered.

“No,” Frances giggled, “don’t mind me… keep calm and kiss on. I’ll clear the dishes.”

Maggie saw the brilliant flash of green hair out of the corner of her eye. “Thanks, Frances.”

“Don’t mind me, snog away.”

Cage bristled. “The way she talks-”

“Is adorable and don’t you forget it.” Maggie pressed another kiss to his lips. “Go, you need to get there early and make sure that everything is running smoothly. We’ve got everything taken care of here.”

His smile was knowing. “I know you do, babe. I know you do. Just sit tight. If anything happens-”

“I’ll call you instantly.”

“Will you two stop worrying,” Frances peeked through the window. “That bloody wanker-” Maggie’s narrowed gaze stopped her short. “That solicitor hasn’t made a peep in over a week, and even your friend, Dom, said that he’d gone back to London. We’re fine, Cage… go kick some arse and make a ton of money.”

That lifted Cage’s brow. “Missing a life of leisure?”

Frances rolled her eyes in perfect teenage fashion. “I’ve never had one. I just don’t like you worrying all the time. Go make this a huge success, so you can ease up a bit and romance your woman.”

Winking, Frances disappeared and turned on the sink.

Maggie sighed and smiled at him. “Children!”

Cage dug his fingers into Maggie’s hips and pulled her roughly against him and it made her weak in the knees to feel him hard against her belly. “Children,” his voice purred with heat, “I can’t wait.”

A vision of children with Cage’s eyes and the determined set of his mouth, and yes, even his smile, flooded her mind.

“God, yes,” she sighed. “Once this mess with the Hallsworths is done, yes.”

Cage leaned forward and nuzzled the side of her neck. “And my mark.”

When she felt his tongue slide over her skin she sagged against him, her mouth parted slightly on a breathy moan. “Yes, I’m ready for that, Cage. For you.”

A car honked outside, and Cage pulled slowly away.

Maggie blushed and started to regain her composure. “That’s Brass waiting for you. You better go.”

He nodded and was suddenly at the door, moving with the grace of his jaguar. “And someone will be by to give Frances a ride-”

“To school,” the teen answered on a laugh, “go!”

Maggie watched him run to the car and slide into the passenger seat a heartbeat before the car shifted into gear. They were gone in a cloud of dust a moment later.

The breakfast rush was unusually light that morning, but it didn’t worry Maggie in the least. Most of the shifters and fighters who worked out at her father’s gym were either at the Arena or taking it easy ahead of the big event.

Almost as if Frances had heard Maggie’s thoughts, she peered out the window and sighed. “If I wasn’t so determined not to be morose,” she declared, “I’d say the street looked like one of those old Spaghetti Westerns and expect a tumbleweed to roll past.”

Maggie laughed. “Spaghetti Westerns? Where did you hear about those?”

Frances stared back in disbelief. “There’s this thing called the internet. They have things like Wikipedia and Movies.”

Taking out the dishtowel that she’d tucked into her apron, she flicked it at the younger girl. “I’m not that old,” she laughed, “but Spaghetti Westerns were in the sixties or seventies! I don’t think I’ve ever watched any. All I know is Clint Eastwood in a poncho and that whistling theme from one of those movies.”

Frances blushed. “Some people still watch those, you know?”

Maggie set down the big container of sugar she was using to fill the small tabletop sugar dispensers. “Frances? Is there… something you want to tell me about?”

Looking away from Maggie as she wiped the top of the counter, Frances whistled the theme to ‘The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.’

“Does this have anything to do with the boy that came over to Paige and Devlin’s home the other night?”

Frances moved down to the next section of the counter with a shrug. “Maybe?”

“Frances!” Maggie almost dropped the half-filled sugar dispenser. “Have you been talking to Cobb?”

“He’s nice,” she sighed.

Maggie laughed. “For a boy?”

Frances rolled her eyes. “For a bear.”

A snort of laughter had Maggie covering her mouth. “Ah, young love.”

“Love?” Frances’ expression soured. “I-”

A honk from the street turned their heads and Frances winced. “Oops, that’s my ride.”

She flung the dishcloth through the pass through and it splashed right into the sink.

Grabbing her backpack from behind the counter. Frances blew a kiss toward Maggie. “See you after my tutor!”

Maggie felt such a surge of love bloom in her chest for the resilient young woman who had made such amazing progress in the last few weeks. “Bye!”

Frances was almost to the end of the walk by the time Maggie saw the apple by the register. With a sigh she snatched up the apple and started around toward the end of the laminated counter. “Frances! Wait!” She was almost to the door when she looked out the window and saw Frances turn toward the door and give it a shake.

The world around her seemed to slow to a crawl as she watched Frances’s face look out of the window and fear blossomed across her features.

“Frances!”

Maggie shoved the front door open just as Frances pummeled the window with her fists.

The wind was knocked right out of Maggie’s chest. Her heart stopped beating and her body went numb.

All she could see was every inch that added to the distance that separated them.

No.

At first it was only a whisper at the back of her mind.

“No.” Then it was on her lips.

Maggie slapped her hand down on her hip pocket and felt her keys there, digging into her palm.

She pushed the door open and ran for her car, digging her keys out as she went. Maggie stumbled as the wide toe of her clog hit a lose stone in the grass and she nearly dropped her keys when she threw her arms out, wheeling to keep her balance as she all but fell against the driver’s side door.

Key in.

Door open.

Fuck the seatbelt.

Turn the car on and go. It was a good half a block before she realized she had her parking brake still on and stomped on the pedal, releasing it.

The car shot forward and the race was on.

* * *

Cage looked down at his phone and considered calling Maggie, but a quick look at the clock told him that it was still at the tail end of breakfast. Frances had probably left for school by now and Maggie was handling things on her own.

Blowing out a breath he looked at the rush of people around him. This was foreign territory for him. He was used to having his fingers on the pulse of every event and this one… well, it was running just fine without him. The promoter, Gordon Glasden, certainly knew his stuff.

The posters were huge, with something Maggie called, ‘splashy colors’ and bold fonts. And no matter what he’d thought when they’d first met, and Gordon had told him they’d have everything done in such a short time, Cage had been ready to tear the man a new one if things had gone badly.

But the ticket sales for the event had started at ten o’clock one evening, and some thirty-two hours later, they were sold out with a waiting list.

A rather harried looking assistant with a clipboard, a headset, and bloodshot eyes that said he probably hadn’t slept in the last day or so, stepped up beside Cage. “Excuse me, sir? Mr. Gamble, is it?”

Cage nodded slowly, concerned that if he made a movement that was too sudden the many would faint or run off screaming. “Yes?”

“Mr. Glasden would like to see you in the Green Room.”

“Sure.” The two stood there for a long moment until Cage followed up with. “And where is the Green Room?”

The assistant’s eyes widened like saucers. “Oh, yes,” he grinned and took a step back, “if you’ll follow me.”

Cage followed him through the corridor and beyond a pair of heavy doors and into the cold chill of super conditioned air.

The assistant heard Cage’s hiss at the sudden change in temperature and held up his free hand to ward Cage off. “Sorry about that. They have to start now with the air so that when all of the ticketholders come in,” he waved his hand in the air, “all of this chill will warm up and it will keep it manageable. You know?”

Cage just raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ooohkay, then,” turning back around, the assistant gestured over his shoulder, “if you’ll continue following me I’ll show you to-”

“I’ll take him from here, Oswald.”

Cage took a moment to scent the air. He knew there was some kind of shifter in this man. Not an animal actually, but blood from somewhere in his family tree. It would be interesting-

Not at all.

Cage shoved his jaguar back. Shut it.

“Mr. Gamble,” Gordon pushed open a door and gestured for Cage to precede him inside, “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that we were able to make this happen. I appreciate the trust you’ve extended to me.”

Cage shrugged. “You have a good reputation, Gordon. I’m hoping you’ll hold up your end of the bargain. These fighters,” Cage jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “are like family to me. So you keep your end of the bargain and we can do this again sometime.” A muscle ticked in Cage’s jaw. “I’ve got a family to protect. A daughter-” he stopped himself for a moment, the reality of the word crashing down around his shoulders, “a daughter to raise. I will do what I need to do to protect them and make them happy.”

The narrowed gaze that settled on his face was keen and curious but wasn’t rude.

“That’s what I like about you, Gamble.” Nodding his head in appreciation, Glasden walked toward the door and tossed one last comment over his shoulder. “If we’d met any other way, I would have done business with you. You’re good. I’ve seen a lot of fighters in my life. And you… you’re really good.”

* * *

Maggie dialed Cage’s number and it started to ring. She cursed herself silently for not putting him on speed dial. Frances had offered to show her how to do it, but it seemed like something extra instead of something necessary. And now… she heard the phone ring through to voice mail. “No! Pick up!”

The car ahead of her pulled forward. She slammed her foot on the gas and managed to gain some ground.

His phone reached the message part of the answer – BING!

“Cage, this is Maggie, someone took Frances! Call me back!”

Up ahead there was an intersection, teeming with cars. It was a simple four-way intersection, and even as the car ahead showed no signs of slowing the light just turned yellow so there was hope, right?

They would stop at the light and she’d…. she would…

“Ah shit!” Maggie had no idea what she’d do, but she was going to figure something out. No one was going to take Frances. Not if she could help it.

The light ahead turned red and the car stopped short.

Cheering inside her head she pushed her gas foot down even harder, but the pedal was already floored and all she could do was slam on the brakes at the last second, thinking to cage them in between her and the cross traffic.

Hitting redial, she set the brake but left the car on and flung open her door. With one ear on the phone in her hand she started to get out -

… leave a message at the sound of the-

And then the world exploded around her in fire and flying metal.