Seeing Jarvis was always bittersweet.

Bitter because of the choices she’d made long ago. Choices that had set her on a path which led her on her current course of action.

On the other hand, it was sweet because, Goddess, he was her mate.

Her She Bear hated leaving him. Every time, it grew harder and harder. This time, it would be nearly impossible. The conscious decision to go off the human birth control was one that had been decades in the making. Living without the limitations on her hormones had made the past six months very interesting.

Interesting read tortuous.

She let out a sigh and deciding that neither defense or offense was going to work here, so she sat back against the uncomfortable dining chair. It had a spindly back and those spindles dug into her spine in all the wrong places. Regardless, comfort was never going to be a factor in this conversation.

She could be sitting on a goddamn cloud and would still feel uncomfortable as fuck.

That was her punishment, she guessed.

Or, at least, it felt like one to her. In Jarvis’s mind, she probably deserved an ass whooping.

She guessed she had to be grateful that even back in the days when a man hitting his wife didn’t raise an eyebrow, Jarvis had never been like that. He’d always been courteous. Kind. Respectful of women.

An anomaly.

It was one of the reasons why it had been so hard to leave him behind and go off on her own. But writing was a vocation. It wasn’t something she could give up easily, and she’d had to explore those ambitions or forever have regret for failing to fulfil those goals.

She didn’t fold her arms even though it was instinctual to do so. She sat there, arms at her side, vulnerable with her head bowed down, eyes glued to the table. Slowly, she flickered her gaze up until it washed over him.

His rage was… well, it was far worse than anything she’d ever seen from him.

Jarvis was one of those guys who looked terrifying, but was actually a BFG. He was nearer seven feet than six, and nearly three-fifty pounds in his skin—and yeah, she’d seen him in his skin. Just the memories made her grow hot inside and out.

Shivering a little, she saw the rage contorting his usually gentle features. He had a stubborn jaw and a look about him that reminded her of Chris Hemsworth. Except Jarvis had been around a lot longer than the Australian had, so maybe Chris looked like her man.

Not that she had the right to call Jarvis that.

Not yet, at any rate.

Soon, though. Hopefully.

She gulped as his dark blue eyes seemed to ripple with emotion. The cerulean depths were like an ocean shore that was being bombarded with waves.

His Roman nose, always prominent, was flared at the nostril as his outrage manifested itself physically. The skin about his lips and chin were blanched, bleached of color as he tried to process his rage and ultimately failed.

It was hard to stay back in her seat. She wanted to lean forward, needed to implore when Cinda had never begged for shit from anyone. But this was her mate.

And she’d denied him his mate for decades.

Not accidentally. Not for any reason like his Prez’s daughter who had discovered her mate at far too young an age—her brother’s mate, Christie, had told her all about that.

No, she’d avoided the bond for ambition.

Sheer, ruthless, bloody-minded ambition.

Goddess, what had she been thinking?

“I’m sorry, Jarvis.” She hadn’t planned to say that, but the words had just blurted free.

She’d been helpless to keep them back because they were the truth.

“You’re not. You’re sorry that you have to tell me now. That you can’t finagle your way into making me believe the mate bond is a new chapter for both of us.”

She blew out a shaky breath. “That’s another reason why I’m sorry. But this can’t start out with more deception.”

“And you think you have the right to decide that, do you?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he leaned into the table, making the damn wood groan with the pressure he was exerting upon it.

“I-If I hadn’t come here today, you would still be in the dark about all this,” she said on a low whisper, dropping her gaze because those waves in the expanse of blue were more intense than she could cope with at that moment.

“So, you expect me to be grateful then?” he asked, his tone close to conversational now.

She eyed him warily, and biting her lip, stated, “Of course not. I-I didn’t have to come.”

“It’s all about you, isn’t it, Cinda?” He shook his head at her. “Everything you’ve done, every decision you’ve made, it’s always been about you. Your life. Your future. Your world, and undoubtedly, your career.” He was seething and the words attacked her like shrapnel from a dirty bomb that embedded itself in the softest, most tender parts of her body.

She could feel herself bleeding from the cut of each shard.

“No, it wasn’t like that,” she tried to defend herself.

“Of course it was,” he snapped, loud enough to make the room fall silent once more. He inhaled roughly, took a quick look around the dining hall and tried to convey that all was well with a false smile.

It didn’t work.

These kids could read faces. They knew something was going on. They could see it as well as smell it.

They didn’t have to be Shifters to know all was not right with their usually placid friend.

“You never took into account that I’m nearly Mars’s age. That I’m nearly two-fifty, did you?” he demanded. “You never thought about me. What a separation would do to me. All you thought about was how the bond would affect you.”

Stung, she sat upright. “That isn’t fair. How is what you said anything other than what you’re accusing me of?”

He shook his head. “Because I’m two-fifty, and you’re barely sixty. There’s a huge difference, and don’t try to pretend you don’t know it because that would be bullshit. Oh, but wait, that’s what you’re used to spewing at me, aren’t you?” he snarled. His hands came up to cover his face a split second before he rubbed the palms over cheeks and pressed into his eyes. “You know the older a Bear gets without its mate, the lonelier he feels. The more isolated he gets. And the more aggressive and volatile he becomes as a result. You didn’t think about that, though. You didn’t care.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “I was young.”

“That’s no excuse,” he snapped, his hands falling away so he could lance her with his glare. “We could have done it together. You could have gone around the country and done whatever the fuck you wanted. But we’d have been mated. We wouldn’t have been alone.”

“It was something I needed to do by myself,” she said softly, dropping her gaze to her lap. “I needed to know I could do it without help.”

He let out a snarl. “I need not to be seated opposite you right now,” he confessed gruffly.

She blinked, astonished, as he scraped back the chair and got to his feet. When he started to walk away from her, her shoulders dropped in further bewilderment. Leaping to her feet, she demanded, “Where are you going?”

The note of panic in her voice was unavoidable. It didn’t stop her from grimacing at it though, or at herself.

She sounded positively scared, and Jarvis, for all his might, wasn’t a man she could ever fear. Not only because he was her mate, but she’d seen him at his very best and his very worst. Of course, those parameters would be affected once they mated, but for now, her memories worked in her favor.

When he paused, hovering in his tracks down the middle of the dining area, she saw tension fill his plaid shirt-shod shoulders. “Please,” she whispered softly, and the word was barely spoken; mostly carrying on the sound waves by desperation alone so quiet was it. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

He didn’t move. His back still turned away from her.

She watched his shoulders heave, saw the tension fill his body as though he was about to move, and felt more fear shudder through her. He was going to leave her.

He was going to abandon her.

The agony hit her square in the gut.

She knew it was unfair. Knew that her actions had placed him in her situation, that she’d effectively abandoned him. But he hadn’t known. She did. She knew that if he walked away now, it was intentional.

Designed to hurt.

She’d never wanted to hurt him.

She’d just hated the conformity that would be demanded of her once she was mated.

Things were different now.

Back when she’d been of Claiming age, it had been the eighties, dammit. Shifters had been even more behind than humans when it came to equality amid the sexes. It wasn’t exactly great now, but back then? It had been a nightmare.

She’d been terrified of being like her mother.

A slave to her father, tied to the kitchen stove. But worst of all? Enslaved to his lusts. Because those lusts were mutual. Her father could get her mother to do anything.

Nothing had ever been said between dam and daughter, yet nothing had ever had to be said.

She felt certain there had been no abuse between her parents, but still, that lack of control was abhorrent to her.

She’d been too terrified at the notion that she would be like that. And when her brother had brought Jarvis home, and she’d realized what he was to her, she’d known that she’d share a similar fate.

That if he but ask it of her, she’d do anything he wanted. Be anything.

Even now, after all these years later, her independent forged a different woman who had made her stronger and more secure in her own capabilities. Maybe, if she explained, he’d understand.

That all depended on whether or not he remained or turned away from her. Whether he stepped off and left her alone.

She was as frozen as he. As frozen as the rest of the dining hall’s occupants. She knew the kids were all watching them. Knew they were intrigued as to what was happening.

Cinda didn’t even have to wonder why.

Jarvis was one of those guys. Always even-tempered. Extremely slow to anger. Only she’d been able to prick his mood, piss him off and have him raging faster than a Ferrari hitting sixty miles an hour.

He should have realized that only a mate would have such a hair trigger effect on him.

His shoulders heaved once more, hunching down as he turned around. He trapped her gaze with his, his jaw still stony as he stepped toward her.

The tic on his jaw flickered as he gritted his teeth. He didn’t say anything. She had his presence, that was something. Words, at this moment, had to come from her.

“Do you remember my father?”

He jolted a little at the question. Good. She’d obviously taken him aback.

“Of course. I went to his funeral.”

There was a reprimand in his voice. And she knew why. “I was in Bosnia.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does,” she confessed, bridging her fingers together and staring down at them. “I nearly caused an international incident trying to get back.” Her mouth quirked up at the side, but there was no humor buried in the half smile. Only pain. “Almost decked a general to force him to bring me home. Nothing worked. They couldn’t get me on a flight in time.”

He blinked at her. “Do I want to know?”

“I can tell you. Some other time. In any other circumstance, it would be quite amusing. It’s also a classified situation.”

That had him gawking at her. “Classified?”

She waved a hand. “I’ve been around the block or two, Jarvis. What can I say?”

“Goddess, I think I need whiskey.”

Her smile was a little more at ease at his desperate words. “Driven to drink already?” she teased.

“You always were a minx,” he retorted gruffly. Shaking his head at her, he continued, “Carry on with what you were saying.”

She nodded. “I loved him, don’t get me wrong. My father wasn’t the greatest man. And if you asked Mundo, I’m not sure if he was even a good one. But with me, I felt like he loved me. He didn’t show it often, but I felt loved.”

“You were his only daughter,” Jarvis said darkly. “Of course he loved you.”

“Is anything really as simple as that?” she asked, shaking her head at him. “My point is, I loved him, but I’d watch the way he was with my mother and I was terrified I’d end up the same way.”

“They weren’t happy together?”

She hesitated. “I couldn’t say.”

“What do you mean?”

“They appeared it, but my mother was… she was chained to him in a way that terrified me. If he asked her to jump, she’d ask how high. That kind of thing.”

Jarvis rolled his eyes. “I can see why that would terrify you.”

“Don’t joke, Jarvis,” she whispered, suddenly deadly serious. “That’s why I had to go. Why I had to be my own woman. The minute I scented you, I knew things were changing. At first, I wasn’t sure how, and then I didn’t care. There was a class at school, a program for birth control. They thought I was a human so they assigned me standard birth control, and I took it. I sensed the mate bond flourishing between us, but you didn’t so I knew it worked.”

“How did you even figure to use birth control?”

She bit her lip. “What scared me the most about my parents was… the sex. All my father had to do was just look at my mother and she’d want him. Even when she was depressed or angry. No matter what, he could sway her, and they’d disappear for hours on end.” She shuddered in revulsion. “I figured if he had such an effect on her, then sex must be one of the main ties between mates. It was guesswork and the birth control might not have worked at all. But it did. And I was relieved.”

“The fact he could turn her on so easily frightened you?” he asked, and she knew he was genuinely trying to understand her motivation rather than mocking her.

She gulped. “Yes. I knew, you see, that I’d be like that. Whenever you came around, my body lit up like there was a forest fire in my panties. It scared me and made me even more determined to go on my own path.”

“But didn’t you see that your father made your mother happy?”

“How is suppressing emotions with sex healthy?” she snarled. “He did it all the time. When a friend died. After Mundo kept on flunking school and then went to jail. Every little low in life, he took her to bed to fuck the sadness away. That’s no way to live,” she said fiercely.

“He was trying to take her mind off it.”

She glowered at him. “If you can’t see that it’s unhealthy, then I don’t know why I’m bothering.” So annoyed was she that she moved to stand but he held out a hand.

It was his turn to ask her not to go.

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”

She let out a shaky breath and sank back into the seat. “I-I’m sorry too. It’s a sore subject. It still frightens me after all these years later.”

“I can see that,” he said softly, then, a little perplexed, asked, “Every time?”

She nodded. “Whether it was to make her forget grief, sorrow, or anger, he fucked it out of her. I remember she burned a damn cake in the oven, one she’d been working on for hours, some kind of fruit cake or something, and he fucked her and made it all better so she wouldn’t blubber over it. It was like she was a nymphomaniac or something.”

“Did your mom ever complain?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, it wasn’t a problem for her.”

“You don’t know that. She didn’t know that.”

“Didn’t you ever ask her?”

“How could I?” She blew out a breath. “You know relationships weren’t like that back then. It was hard enough getting her to explain periods to me, never mind having a chit chat about her sex life with my sire.”

“True.” His lips twitched. “But, Cinda, I’m not your father.”

“I know that, silly.”

“No, you don’t apparently. You’ve been hiding from something for all these years because you think we’re one and the same. But we’re not. You’ve told me what you’re frightened of. I understand. I won’t do that to you.”

She clenched her jaw. “You don’t know that. We don’t know that yet.”

“Of course we do. I don’t use sex to control women, dammit. I have no need to, nor any desire for that to be the case.” His exhalation was loud and low. “Look, the crazy thing is, you hid the mate bond from me. But you didn’t hide the attraction I felt for you. You couldn’t shelter me from that. You’ve always been ornery and had more prickles than a fucking hedgehog. That’s always been a turn on. You’re not submissive and you’re not docile. Which is perfect because that’s not what hits my buttons.”

“You wouldn’t want a woman who, with just a look, would immediately go to bed with you?” she asked, disbelief dripping from her tone. “Because if you say no, then I don’t believe you.”

He snorted. “I wouldn’t believe me if I said no. But with mates, that’s how it is. Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of mate bonds at work. A single look or less, that’s all it takes. Goddess, I’ve seen Mars panting after Annette from her tracing her little finger over his fucking eyebrow! It works both ways.

“I’m sure your mother had her own tricks, too. Tricks that got your father hot. But you never saw them because you were too busy obsessing over your father being in control to see that your mother had some say in things too.”

She blinked at him. “Maybe.”

He seemed to sense how huge a concession that was and nodded at her, encouragingly. “Look, Cinda. I have no desire to control you. Where would the fun be in that? Look around this place. Do you think I like my life to be neat and orderly? If I did, opening a homeless shelter for adolescents wouldn’t have been the way to go, would it? But, on top of that, I have not a single doubt in my mind that one day you could look at me and make me want to go to bed with you. It’s reciprocal.” He slid his hand over the table, not stopping until he could cover her clenched fists with his. “Reciprocal,” he repeated. “That’s what counts. Nothing more, nothing less.”

She flexed her jaw. “It’s not as easy as that.”

“Isn’t it?” He squeezed her fingers. “Obviously this has become a huge problem for you. I get that. But something has to have changed for you, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. You’d still be running.”

“Have you stopped being mad at me?”

His eyes widened. “What do you think?”

She flushed. “Wishful thinking?”

“Definitely,” he told her wryly. “But I’m listening. So that’s something. It’s more than I thought I was capable of five minutes ago.”

She nodded slowly, seeing the wisdom in his words. She couldn’t ask for too much too fast. It wasn’t fair on either of them.

“What changed?” he asked again, the words softer than velvet.

“I did.”

He shook his head. “Not good enough.”

“It will make you angry.”

A laugh escaped him. “That’s pretty much par for the course where you’re concerned, Cinda. I tend to be pissed off around you no matter the circumstances. It just comes in different gradients.”

Her cheeks pinkened a little at that. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“It’s the truth,” he retorted. “And that’s exactly what I want to hear from you right this minute.”

She pursed her lips. “I was almost raped.”

He froze at that, and she watched his eyes flicker and his muscles turn to ice. Before he could pull his hand away from hers, she grabbed a hold of it, clutched at his fingers and whispered, “Please, don’t go.”

The sob in her words had him freezing up. “I won’t go,” he told her roughly after a handful of seconds had passed. Seconds in which she knew he’d been fighting his Bear. “But only because you haven’t told me who to kill.”

She closed her eyes. “It’s done, Jarvis. The guy’s in jail anyway.” Rubbing at her forehead, she opened her eyes once more and shot him a pleading look. “I can’t explain this if you don’t relax.”

“What happened?” he snarled. When she shot him a wounded glance, he hissed under his breath. “My mate was nearly raped, Cinda. What do you expect me to do? Get up and do a happy dance?”

She blinked at him. “No. But I need you here with me now more than I need you to go and find vengeance for me.”

“Explain,” he said gruffly. “Let me decide one thing in this relationship of ours.”

She huffed. “What are you going to do? Sneak inside his jail cell and beat the living shit out of him?”

“I know people who would,” he said seriously, and for a second, fear slithered through her veins at his surety. “In a heartbeat.”

“He’s on death row. There’s nothing you can do to him that the state isn’t going to do anyway.”

“Just tell me what happened.”

She winced because he was going to get mad again. “Now, remember I’m an investigative journalist. The clue is in the investigative part.”

He sat up straight. “Do not tell me you want looking for the bastard.”

She cringed. “Maybe.” Cinda shot him a pleading glance. “Just a little.”

“What in the hell’s wrong with you, Cinda?” He pulled his hands from hers and slammed them down against the table. “Goddess, you need a keeper.”

“The cops were useless as fucking usual. I had to do something.”

“Did you? Did you really?” He sucked in air like he was hyperventilating. “You go out and pull this elaborate stunt to avoid being dependent on me, the male the Goddesses granted you at birth, and yet what do you do with your independence? You go and put yourself in danger.”

“I had no choice,” she hissed, aware that the kids were watching them once more. “Lower your tone. We have an audience.”

“Fuck. This is a totally inappropriate place to be having this conversation.”

She grimaced. “I know.”

He shook his head. “I can’t promise that the minute we’re alone I won’t pin you to whatever flat surface there is and Claim you.” The breath he released was shuddery and the words had her shivering in her seat, everything female in her reacting to everything male in him. “And that isn’t helping,” he snarled, watching the flush of her cheeks, the slow bobbing of her breasts as she tried to get under control. Mortification filled her as he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes with a low moan that reminded her of a kid whiffing freshly baked cookies ready to come out of the oven. “Get on with it while you can, Cinda,” he said gruffly, eyes popping open to glower at her. “Because you’ll be mine before the day’s out.”

She should have felt terrified by that. Hadn’t she been running from him for so long? And yet, what else had she expected when she’d come here today? She’d made the decision that had led to this point months ago. The minute she’d torn up her prescription for birth control meds, it had been a slippery slope to this point here.

Lust whirled around her system like an inordinately good acid trip. She could feel it hitting all the soft and tender parts of her sexuality, churning up the embers and stoking flames that had been building for nearly fifty years.

That was a hell of a long time to remain celibate.

Her She Bear would allow no other male to touch her. Cinda had tried. Goddess, had she tried. But the beast wouldn’t have it. As a result, Cinda was hornier than Jarvis could even imagine.

She shuddered, but when his eyes burned with flames that seemed to stoke her own heat even higher, she was quick to whimper out, “A colleague of mine, more than that, a friend, was attacked by this guy. She was raped and he killed her.” The memories quenched her desire. It wasn’t like a bucket of ice overhead because her reaction to Jarvis was anything but ordinary. This was no average lust, but one that, as he’d said, had been granted to her from a Goddess. This male was hers by right of a deity. There was no avoiding these feelings—something she’d known all along,, and had justifiable reason to fear, it seemed. Still, she couldn’t think about that now.

“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t realize.”

“Why would you?” She pursed her lips. “I never told Mundo. He’d have ordered me to come home, and when I refused he would have come for me and dragged me back. I had to deal with it myself, deal with it my own way. So I did.”

“You hunted him.”

She nodded. “I had a lock on his scent. Marla had an open funeral. I could smell him on her.” Her nostrils flared in disgust. “He was there. Everywhere. Over the formaldehyde and whatever other crap they used on her at the funeral home. That was when I got the idea.” She bit her lip. “I’m friends with some of the detectives at a precinct in the city. They were on the case, as luck would have it, and one of the female detectives knew I was a Shifter. When I told her I had his scent and would be able to find him, she slipped me information so long as I swore I’d keep her in the loop.”

“You lied,” he stated simply.

She grinned a little, not amused by the situation, but amused that he knew her well enough to realize that. “Yes. I did. I thought my Bear would protect me.”

He frowned. “Why didn’t she?”

“He drugged me first.” She grimaced and her She Bear rippled under her skin, the same unease she’d felt that awful fucking night flooding her as though eight months hadn’t passed between then and now. “Thankfully, my system processed the drug before anything could happen. The She Bear dealt with him promptly enough.”

“Apparently not if he’s alive and on death row.”

“I didn’t want to kill him. I wanted him to suffer.”

He frowned at the slick gladness in her voice. “What did you do?” he asked, his puckered brow speaking of his confusion.

“Made sure he’d never rape anyone ever again,” she told him simply.

He sat back, and on a low whistle, replied, “Fuck.”

“No,” she said with a wide, evil grin. “He can’t do that either.”

Jarvis’s eyes widened, then laughter bellowed from him. “Jungle justice. Babe, I love it.”

She tried not to flush at his pleasure in her, or at the endearment, but it was hard not to.

“I’m pissed as fuck that you put yourself in danger but…”

“I did right,” she interrupted before he could finish his sentence. He nodded, but the move was loaded with his displeasure. “I wanted him to suffer the human way too. Jail and death row. That was the only way it could go. He’d raped and murdered four victims. But he needed to pay too.”

“Didn’t the police question his injuries?”

“I don’t know. I pretended I’d passed out and when I woke up, he was on the floor nearly bleeding out.”

“And they believed you?”

“The detective who knew I was a Shifter didn’t. Not when the bastard’s injuries were obviously caused by an animal. But she was glad with what I’d done too.”

“Fucking hell. Sisterhood at its finest.”

She snorted. “Like you don’t know what brotherhood can do, too.”

He grimaced. “True.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “So, that’s why you’re here?”

She ducked her gaze. “That’s one of the reasons. It’s why I stopped taking birth control. I had to see his trial through, and I wanted to come to you without that taint in my system anymore.”

“But why? Why now?”

Her jaw worked a second. “I’ve never slept with a male, Jarvis.” His eyes flared wide at that and the satisfaction oozing from him was more irritating than anything she’d ever seen in her fucking life. It was then, she realized, that half his anger with her had been founded on the fact he hadn’t been her first when he should, by rights, have been her only because of her age when she’d learned he was her mate.

She wanted to scream with rage and rake her claws at him, but Goddess, he was a product of his environment. It wasn’t his fault he was such a fucking male sexist pig.

She glowered at him instead. “Don’t be so smug,” she snapped.

He hunched his shoulders and raised his hands in a ‘who me?’ pose.

She just huffed. “When the bastard had me on that table,” she whispered, “I couldn’t believe that something my She Bear had guarded for so long was about to be taken from me. I was half-drugged as she hadn’t washed the poison from my system, but that was all that kept running through my mind. That what should have been rightfully yours was about to be stolen from me.” She shook her head, emotions gathering in her throat, ones she couldn’t control nor did she want to.

He wanted the honest truth? He’d get it.

She stared at him through tortured eyes and whispered, “I’ve fought it, long and hard, but I’m yours. Every part of me. I can’t run from it anymore. I don’t want to run. I need you. I need my mate more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.” She let out a shuddery breath. “The question is, can my mate forgive me enough to accept what I did and what I’ve done and Claim me anyway?”

…