The trip from Polsky’s Hardware, across the highway and back around Rooster Lane, was both easier and harder than previous trips with Kragen. Andie had climbed on his back this time, eager to get out of that frozen hardware store, with Mr. Polsky still stuck with his hand in the air as he was lecturing some poor customer. They’d gone out the back way, avoiding Trevor, who was still standing in the front doorway. And Andie had made Kragen put on one of Mr. Polsky’s old coats, to minimize the direct skin-to-skin contact while he carried her over to Gramzy’s.

Kragen had promptly busted through the seams of the coat, but he’d kept it on.

Even still, the bond between them was a constant humming vibration in the background of Andie’s awareness, a reminder that she was always just a moment away from nearly debilitating need. Need—and pleasure.

But this time, as she climbed up on his back and closed her eyes against the blur of scenery as he raced through her small town, it was at least manageable. This time, at least, there weren’t any sudden memories that didn’t belong to her.

Too bad that was all she could think about.

Andie buried her face into the back of Kragen’s neck, and hoped like hell that Gramzy would know what she should do. Because what she’d seen during that last orgasm…

Andie hadn’t just seen into his heart. She’d seen Kragen’s memories. She’d suddenly, somehow, known things. Things it was impossible for her to know. And while she was reeling from the fact that, you know, this alien mating bond was definitely, undeniably real, and impossible, and somehow freaking magical, that wasn’t actually her biggest problem at the moment.

At the moment, her biggest problem was that she knew what Kragen was facing. She knew why he hadn’t claimed her. And it made her…

It’s crazy to love him, right?

She’d only known him a day, technically. And yet…she knew him better than anyone she’d ever been with before. But not because Kragen had told her any of this himself. Not because he’d trusted Andie. Because he was still, when it got down to it, rejecting her as his mate. So what the hell was Andie doing caring?

None of it made sense, and all of it needed Gramzy’s no-bullshit opinion.

Andie looked up briefly, squinting into the wind as Kragen raced through the streets of Silver Creek at inhuman speed. They were close.

So why couldn’t she shake the feeling that something was definitely wrong?

Kat had been gone long enough to check on Gramzy, so Andie shouldn’t be freaking out. But it wasn’t like Andie had checked her phone. Her reception at the warehouse was spotty, and once they’d gotten into town, looking for supplies, she’d been distracted by the sexy Leonid who was intent on feeding on her orgasms.

You’re probably just anxious because of the whole outlaw-on-the-run thing, she thought. Calm down.

She looked up again as Kragen slowed down. He came to a stop at the end of the block, just as he had before, wary of the police car out front.

Andie slid off his back, confident he would sense any physical threats. That wasn’t what Andie was worried about.

She was worried about the fact that there weren’t any cars in front of Gramzy’s pink clapboard house.

“Where is everybody?” she muttered as she walked forward.

There were cars in front of the other houses, in the other driveways. People were already home from work, or the bar, or wherever. It was just about the dinner hour. There were lights on in living rooms all down Gramzy’s block, televisions flickering. People at home.

Gramzy’s house was dark.

“There is no evidence of law enforcement,” Kragen said as they approached. He was still carrying giant garbage bags full of the supplies he’d “borrowed” from Polsky’s Hardware. Now he set them down on Gramzy’s lawn, and looked around with a puzzled expression.

“I do not sense anything,” he said. “Anything at all.”

Andie was still looking around when her feet started to move before her brain figured out why. Kragen was saying something about securing the perimeter of the property, moving off to the side, as she climbed the stairs to the porch, but it was all falling away. Because she realized that Kat’s car wasn’t out front, either.

Something was wrong.

“Grams?” she said as she opened the front door, hoping against hope that she was just being paranoid. That everything was fine. That her world wasn’t about to turn upside down.

She was still hoping against hope when a huge arm wrapped around her from behind and covered her mouth.

* * *

Kragen had only gone halfway around the matriarch’s house when he realized his mistake.

He had not sensed anything as they’d approached the property. No threat, no presence. Merely emptiness.

No cause for alarm.

But that itself should have been cause for alarm. Kragen was not a normal Leonid, not after having drank kuma from his mate, even unclaimed. In his heightened state, with his mate nearby, Kragen should have been able to sense the kuma of every living thing in a half-mile radius. Every bird, every field mouse, every ladybug in the pretty back garden.

Nothing.

Which meant a cloaking device.

Which meant…

He was glowing with raw power, with rage, as he turned the corner of the house, the foolish human jacket disintegrating around him as he burned, knowing, on some level, what he would see. Knowing it was his fault.

Andromeda. With the arm of another male wrapped around her. Holding her prisoner.

“Magnus!” Kragen roared.

“Kragen, I’m ok!” Andromeda shouted. “But—”

“Silence, female,” Magnus growled.

Kragen became a tower of light.

The light from the fire inside him illuminated the front yard, and the porch where Magnus stood, with Andromeda as his hostage. The light-blue skin of Magnus’s arm was pale where he held it against Andromeda, and Kragen could smell it burning from here. Kragen remembered, from what Rune’s father had taught him about the mating bonds, that it would hurt Magnus where he touched the mate of another. Where he violated the bond.

Kragen would make it hurt more.

“Unhand my mate,” he growled.

It was not loud, but it carried. Because the power of the hunger denied, of the incipient darkness at the heart of all Leonids, was rising within him. The very sight of another male’s hands on his mate was enough to push him to the brink of control. The idea that one might threaten her…

Kragen searched Andromeda’s face, seeking out her eyes the way he would seek out water in the desert. She met his gaze, and in a split second, he saw everything. He saw she was unhurt. And he saw that she was frightened—and that Kragen would repay that fear tenfold.

“Magnus,” he said, and his voice sounded both deeper and farther away. Kragen saw the silvery light that marked his power rising around him, saw it reflected on Magnus and Andromeda. Saw it spread to the houses and yards on either side of the street. Saw it illuminate the humans who were beginning to gather there, watching with mouths open.

Saw it reveal the phase rifle that Magnus carried in his free arm. And the shield pack that he had strapped to his chest.

With that shield pack, the amount of force that Kragen would need to generate to penetrate it would destroy half the block. Even if Kragen could protect Andromeda from that blast, this would never be her home again. Her home was important to her.

He locked eyes with his mate once more.

“Magnus,” he said. “You know not what you do.”

“I will not be lectured by the coward who broke rivka,” Magnus shouted back, but his voice was uncertain. He did not know what he was seeing rise in Kragen. No Leonid had seen what happened when you threatened a mate in a hundred years.

“You dare use my mate as a shield?” Kragen said, his lip curling in disgust.

The other Leonid’s eyes widened.

“You lie,” Magnus hissed.

Kragen was pacing now, unable to stop himself from moving, from circling his prey. Even though his eyes never left Andromeda, he was aware of each and every human who left their house to see what was happening, who watched from the safety of their own doorways. All of them had their phones out. Kragen and Andromeda were exposed now.

There was no going back.

“Unhand her,” Kragen said, the energy of kuma racing up and down his spine, the animal inside begging to unleash it on the enemy. “Or your death will be slow.”

“You cannot have a mate,” Magnus rasped. “You? You, of all of us? The Gods were never that stupid!”

For the first time, Andromeda looked away from Kragen. And she looked angry. With all of her might, she elbowed the fully grown male Leonid who held her captive.

Magnus looked down.

“You stupid son of a bitch,” Andromeda said. “Look at me.”

The mark on Andromeda’s chest was glowing hot, and a silvery light danced around the edges of her skin, growing brighter when she looked back at Kragen. The longer Kragen watched Magnus hold his mate, the harder it was to fight back the urge to give in to the animal hunger in his heart. If he lost, he would kill his blood brother, but he would also lose control. And then Kragen would claim Andromeda.

He was fighting for her life.

“No,” Magnus whispered as he stared at Andromeda. “It cannot be.”

“Well, while you’re busy trying to deny reality, maybe you could tell me what the hell you did with my Gramzy, you hostage-taking piece of crap,” Andromeda said.

Magnus was looking more and more uncertain. His grip on Andromeda had weakened. Kragen took another step forward.

“What is a Gramzy?” Magnus said.

“What did you do with the matriarch who lived in this house, Magnus?” Kragen asked. “You should pray the answer is a good one.”

This time Magnus’s lip curled up. He snarled at Kragen, with the sort of bone-deep disgust that Leonids reserved for traitors, or cowards that harmed females.

“Frack you,” he said. “I would never sink to your level and break the code. I have been waiting here since I procured cell phone records and found the address of the only human who was in that part of the forest yesterday. An old human female left here in a medical vehicle, accompanied by a younger human female I did not recognize. None of them were your conspirator here, so none of them were my business. I do not harm females.”

Kragen watched, as though in slow motion, as tears welled up in Andromeda’s eyes. Tears of sadness. Of pain.

“What was the matriarch’s condition?” Kragen demanded. “You will tell my mate now.”

Magnus threw his head back and roared, a roar of pure frustration. Kragen began circling in the other direction, getting a little bit closer to this prey with every iteration, and held the reins on the animal inside.

Barely.

“What does it matter?” Magnus said. “Do you know what you have done? Where is Runevok, Kragen? Where is your rivka?”

Kragen was losing patience. He cast his mind out, found an empty car belonging to the neighbor who felt the ugliest to him, the man’s dislike of the matriarch and of Andromeda spilling off him in waves as he watched the scene unfold. A Humans Firster. Kragen would find a way to repair the damage later, but for now, he needed the vehicle.

He reached out his hand, connecting to the vehicle in his mind’s eye. And then he let the kuma flow.

The car flew straight up in the air, silver light crackling all around it, until Kragen sent it down again. He smashed it into the center of the street at the end of the road, where Rooster Lane met the forest, and deflected the debris away from the humans. He heard them all scream, but his concern was with only one.

Andromeda.

“Tell my mate the condition of her matriarch,” Kragen intoned. “Or I will end you here and now.”

There was a pause. Kragen noticed the light around him was beginning to turn dark at the edges.

“The old female was alive,” Magnus said, finally. “I do not know more than that.”

Kragen snarled. “You will speak of the matriarch with respect,” he said.

He was close now. Close to Andromeda.

He could end this, any time he chose.

But not without harming Andromeda.

“Stop,” Magnus said, his voice dripping with anger, but his eyes flat. “Stop speaking of her as your mate. You do not deserve a mate. Of all of us, you do not deserve a mate.”

Kragen was nearly gone now. The desire to take her, to claim her, beat a rhythm in every cell of his body. The only thing he still had was the bond with Andromeda.

His eyes sought hers, one more time.

“Nevertheless,” he said, “she is my mate.”

“Our orders are to kill you and Rune on sight,” Magnus said. “Take me to him and I won’t kill you in front of her.”

Kragen laughed. Magnus was well hidden behind the shield, but Kragen was so drunk off of kuma and the hunger for his mate that nothing was beyond his perception. And Magnus was bluffing.

“Why have you not shot me already?” Kragen asked.

And took another step closer.

“Because I want you to admit what you did,” Magnus growled.

“The world will know now, Magnus,” Kragen said, gesturing at the many humans who were filming them with their ubiquitous phones. The sirens were close, and Kragen knew the helicopter landing in a clearing nearby would be full of Leonid soldiers. “And I no longer care. Be careful what you wish for.”

Kragen held out his arms, for the first time welcoming the hunger as it rose in him. He was done watching. He would protect his mate. He would destroy them all. And then…

“Hey!”

Andromeda’s voice pierced through his fever. He looked at her. Her eyes were a lifeline, her voice the thin strand that tethered him to this reality.

Kragen looked into her eyes, and he heard again what she’d said not an hour earlier: And then what?

“Kragen!” Andromeda shouted. “Listen to me! I know why you didn’t trust me. I know what you weren’t telling me. I saw, Kragen. I saw it all the last time we…”

She let her voice fade, but she did not need to say it. Kragen knew. The last time he’d drank from her kuma there had been…there had been something.

“I saw your memory,” she said again. “I know you were his rivka. I know what that means, and I know what they’ll do to you. And I’m not going to let you face that alone, whether you like it or not. Do you understand, Kragen? I know what I’m choosing. And I need you to trust me.”

The whirr of the helicopter in the distance had become an insistent beating in the air, a pulse that threatened to deafen everything around them. Spotlights scoured the dark streets around them only to be swallowed up in the silver light that surrounded Kragen and Andromeda. They were surrounded, and yet they were alone.

Trust me.

Time stopped when Kragen looked into her eyes one more time. The bond between them flared. He felt that strange feeling in the backs of his eyes again, and this time he could hear her. He could hear his mate’s thoughts, could feel what she felt.

I am Gramzy’s granddaughter. And I have a plan.

The whole world waited for Kragen’s answer.

“Tell me what you want, lubcha,” he said.

“Let this dingus take us into custody or whatever,” Andromeda said. “On the condition that we get to see the queen together, ok? I can solve this. Just…trust me.”

Kragen’s gaze swiveled to Magnus.

“You heard my mate,” Kragen said. “You will unhand her immediately. We will not be separated, and she will be afforded the respect a Leonid mate deserves. We will have an audience with the queen, together. And for all that, I will surrender peacefully, and you and the centurion of Leonids above will live through the night. Decide quickly.”

“One more,” Andromeda said. “I need to see Gramzy first. At the hospital.”

Magnus looked between them and snarled.

“That is too—”

Kragen roared, drowning out the sound of the helicopter above, rattling everyone within a mile radius to the very bone.

“Her matriarch is ill!” he shouted. “We will see to her!”

For a second, the world held its breath.

And then, swearing, Magnus let go of Andromeda.