“I need to see Armani,” she bit out. “Now.”
Silence filled the line for long moments.
“Are you unwell?” His voice was calm, cool. Typical Brim.
“I . . . I’m having an odd reaction to the hormonal therapy.” She swallowed tightly. “Is there any way to contact her?”
He was silent again. Longer this time.
“I can have a team waiting to take you to Haven as soon as I talk to Del-Rey and receive verification to do so. Would you like me to contact him?”
Contact Del-Rey? Her eyes swung to her still-closed door as she swallowed tightly. “No. No.” She shook her head; she was losing her mind. “Forget it.”
She disconnected the line before punching in Sharone’s number.
“Yes, Coya?” Sharone answered warily.
“Get one of the soldiers,” she ordered her. “I need a message out to Armani that I need to see her. Quickly.”
“I can’t,” Sharone answered her regretfully. “Brim contacted me earlier. I can’t take any orders from you that involve anything outside Base, without going through the alpha first.”
Anya turned slowly as the door opened and Del-Rey stood naked, aroused, in the doorway.
“Need to see Armani?” He lifted a brow in amusement.
“Let me know when you’re ready, I’ll take you there myself. I’d like to discuss a few issues concerning your mating heat with her.”
Anya hung up the phone and gaped at him.
Oh Lord. His erection was huge, heavily veined, the crown flared and damp, and the sight of it had her entire body weakening for precious seconds. She had to force strength into her legs. Had to force herself to straighten and jerk her gaze from his cock to his face. And the bastard was smirking.
Standing there, all hard and bronzed flesh, a cock that made her mouth water, and those sexy lips tilted into a half smile. She felt her sex grow more heated, her juices gathering between her thighs.
“It’s none of your business,” she informed him through gritted teeth. “And you do not need to talk to Armani about my body.”
“Of course I do,” he told her, his tone mildly curious. “It’s obvious you need further hormonal treatments to control the mating heat. You were flowing over me like honey on a comb, Anya. I have a few things I have to do first, but I’ll be ready in three hours. Meet me in the community room.”
He stepped back and slammed the door closed as she picked up the wood paperweight on her desk and hurled it at his head.
It bounced off the door, and she knew, knew, she heard his laughter echoing from the other room.
Be ready her ass. She wasn’t going anywhere with that snide, smirking, too damned sexy for her own good Coyote.
Damn him. Let him go by himself.
She pushed her hands into her hair with a snarl of outrage before dragging them through the strands. And it felt too much like that damned dream that wasn’t a dream. Del-Rey’s fingers in her hair, tugging at it, sending sharp, burning little sensations of pleasure racing through her.
She shivered at the remembrance. Oh man, she was in so much trouble here. He was right, she needed to see Armani, because the heat was building again and she had a feeling she couldn’t control it this time.
It had changed. It was insidious, growing by small measures, burning inside her when she least expected it and leaving her aching for his touch, even though she knew the culmination of that touch was cold, lonely emptiness.
She sat down on her bed and breathed out with a small, strangled groan. She so didn’t need this right now. Of all things she didn’t need, it was the mating heat returning.
An hour after Del-Rey had heard the paperweight strike his mate’s door, he was sitting in his office beside Command and staring across his desk at the three Coyote females his packs had adopted.
He’d darkened the windows as they stepped inside, ensuring that his little mate couldn’t wander into Command and see him talking to her bodyguards.
Sharone Bryce stood tallest, military straight as she stared at the wall above his head, her expression composed. She hadn’t even shifted during the minutes she had stood there. Her dark brunette hair was pulled back into a fussy little braid that worked its way down her head. French braid, he thought he’d heard it called. Her hazel green eyes were cool, but he could detect the flicker of wariness in them.
Emma Truing was standing similarly. Still and straight, her lighter brown hair cut short and framing her pretty face. There was the slightest crook to her nose where it had been broken in her teens. Her lips were firm, her gray eyes steady.
Ashley Truing was a whole other ball game. Del-Rey liked to tease her that she was a true Coyote: lazy, shiftless, too charming for her own damned good, cunning as hell and filled with fun.
She was a genius. A stone-cold killer standing before him with lightened hair, nearly blond, her gray eyes twinkling back at him, though he knew they could fill with crocodile tears at any moment. And she wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was chewing gum between those perfect teeth of hers. She wasn’t standing straight; one hip was cocked and she was on the edge of looking bored.
“Okay already, chew my ass out. I told you I have to get my nails fixed today. And there’s this shoe party that Young Leaders of America or some bullshit is throwing. I’m gonna be late, Alpha.” She pouted back at him. “Come on, we weren’t totally bad. Right? We got her to you.”
He’d known Ashley would break first. Emma winced. Sharone closed her eyes for a brief, irritated second. He would have chuckled if the lives of his mate and these three women weren’t so important to him.
“And if you hadn’t gotten her to me, Ashley?” he asked, a warning growl in his throat. “If the four of you had died on that mountain, what then?”
Her eyes widened. “They didn’t have a prayer,” she scoffed.
“Come on, Alpha, I knew you’d be looking for her the minute we left on ‘no comm.’ I figured you’d catch up with us sooner than you did. I mean, come on, you’re totally hot for her. She’s not going to be out of your sight that long when you don’t know precisely where she is.”
Cunning, manipulative, charming and too intuitive—because she was fucking right.
“That’s not the point.” He leaned forward in his chair. “What would have happened if that bullet had struck you at the top of that trail and left you dead?”
She stared back at him blankly. “Umm. The coya would cry. I’d be dead. And if that had happened, I would hope you would dress me really fine and give me one of those cool funerals, you know? Like real people have. And roses.”
She was utterly serious. Like real people. His chest clenched at the words, as though in her soul she believed she wasn’t ‘real people’.
“Coyotes would have gone to war,” he stated clearly, powerfully. “None of those hunters would have escaped. I let them go, all but one last night, Ashley, to track where they went. Had you, your sister or Sharone died on that mountain, nearly a hundred Coyote soldiers would have broken Breed Law and descended on Advert with the full fury of killing rage.”
She blinked back at him. “Why?” She looked to Emma and Sharone’s surprised faces. “We’re just Coyotes, Alpha. We were born to die.” She flashed him that fucking fearless smile that tied his guts into knots.
“Your allowance has been pulled for the next four weeks.” He rose from his chair, his hands braced on the desk as he glared at her, fury beating at his temple. “In four weeks you will come to me and tell me why, Ashley, that Coyotes would have shed blood in that amount for your life.”
True distress filled her eyes. He suspected true tears.
“My allowance?” she whispered fearfully. “Oh please, Del-Rey, just like, knock it down. Don’t take my allowance.” She spread her fingers out. “Look at my damned nails. I need my allowance.”
“If a single Breed—Coyote, Feline or Wolf—pays for those fucking nails,” he stabbed his finger at her hands, “then I’l
l make damned certain he pays for it in ways he doesn’t even want to imagine. Are we clear?”
The tears cleared; the lips trembled; her gaze shuttered.
“I don’t know what your deal is.” Her voice was perfectly composed. “If the coya were hurt or killed, you’d take out my throat. Fine. I’d expect it. She’s my damned coya too, so you really don’t have to play up any loyalty here. And fuck the nails, I don’t need your allowance.”
He growled, a low, lethal sound that had her flinching.
“Four weeks,” he told her. “One more smart-assed remark and we’ll go for six. Would you like to chance that?”
She crossed her arms over her breasts, hip cocked, and glared back at him.
He turned to Emma. “Why would I have gone to war over your death, Emma?”
She cleared her throat. “We’re pack?” she suggested.
He glared back at her. “I hope you enjoy kitchen duty for the next two weeks.”
She gasped.
“Two weeks?” Ashley bit out defiantly. “You’re punishing me for four.”
“Six!” he snarled back at her as she jerked back and stared at him, horrified.
“Sharone?” He was all but yelling. He was fucking pissed off, and realizing that only made him madder. “If you died? Why the fucking hell do you think I’d go to war?”
She blinked quickly. “Because . . .” She swallowed. “Do you love us, Alpha?”
He sat down in his chair and breathed out roughly as he stared at the three women. “The three of you, Marcy and Chanda, who are presently charming the hell out of the Felines, are the females of our packs and are the same as sisters to me. You are more to me than any man in this base.” He could feel the anger churning in him. “Because I love you, I would have gone to war.” He turned to Sharone. “What would I have done if my coya had been captured or killed? My mate, Sharone. The other half of everything I am. What would I have done?”
Her eyes were wide as she shook her head slowly. “I can’t imagine anything worse, Alpha, than going to war.”
“Worse is having my soul ripped from my body,” he told her. “We, who are told we have no soul. I found mine nearly seven years ago when a kid walked into the roughest, dirtiest, meanest bar I know of, to save her friends. If I lose her, I lose who and what I am.” He rose threateningly again. “And if you tell your coya I said that, then all three of you, no matter which one spills her guts, will be separated from the coya’s security detail for six months. Are we clear?”
They nodded slowly, fearfully. They had never been separated from Anya. The four of them were like kids together, learning how to be free, how to play. They were playmates, perhaps even sisters.
“Alpha?” Ashley asked. “May I ask a question?”
“Will it piss me off?” he growled.
“Yes. Probably.”
That was his Ashley. She didn’t balk. Shaking his head, he sat back down and stared back at her. “What?”
“Why would you love us? You didn’t raise us. You’ve known us only as long as you’ve known your coya. Why do you care?”
He wiped his hand over his face wearily. “I’ve known you for nearly seven years, Ash,” he sighed. “Your coya talked of little else but five young girls that were her best friends. Her confidantes. Her family. In those years, she made me love you as fiercely perhaps as she does.” He shook his head. “You are Coyote Breeds. You are not simply coyotes. You are not unfeeling animals, and you’re worth more than a fucking funeral. Are we clear on this?”
She bit her lip. “Can I have my allowance back?”
“No!”
She pouted, but she wasn’t hard, she hadn’t fallen back on her training to show her displeasure.
“The three of you will ensure, from here on out, that if your coya even thinks of leaving these caverns without me at her side, I’m notified. If she wants to train, I as well as a backup team will oversee it. If she wants to fucking pick flowers, she will have a backup detail and I will oversee it. If she just wants to step outside the fucking door and breathe in the mountain air, what will you do?”
“Notify you, Alpha,” they snapped at once.
“Emma, you’re on kitchen duty when you’re not with your coya outside Base. Ashley, you better hope you’ve saved back enough to fix those nails. They look like shit. Sharone, you’re assigned to Brim for two weeks when you’re not needed by your coya. He’ll let you know what he needs.”
He could have sworn Sharone whimpered. Brim enjoyed the hell out of the girls and loved every chance he had to torment them. It was his hobby, his fun. Like the older brother he had never been.
“Dismissed.” He waved to the door, waited until they filed out, and as the door closed behind him, he smiled and shook his head. Damn, if this was any indication of what human men dealt with when it came to daughters, then he was damned glad he was a Coyote.
CHAPTER 7
He had her timed perfectly. Ten minutes after the girls left his office, Anya was charging into it. Her blue eyes sparkled with fury, her red gold hair tangled around her face and fell to her shoulders in such charming disarray that he wanted nothing more than to mess it further.
She slammed the door and faced him, arms crossing over the snug, thin white sweater she wore as she glared at him furiously.
“How dare you punish them!” She shoved a finger toward him. “You had no right.”
He sat back in his chair and forced control on himself.
“I’m not ready to head to Haven yet. I need about forty minutes at least. Could you wait to start throwing things at me and calling me names until then?”
“Wait?” she snapped in mockery. “Wait for you to do what? Devise more ways to torture my friends? You have no right. Now fix it.”
Oh, she was fucking beautiful. He could feel his cock hardening impossibly. He was so damned ready to fuck that smart mouth it was almost impossible not to jump from the desk and take what he wanted.
“What did you think would happen, Anya?” he asked her carefully instead. “I could have been much harder on them. I could have had them sent to Haven and celled for endangering their coya’s life. Instead, I did what I felt would teach them quickly not to fuck with your life or theirs.”
“And you think we didn’t learn our lessons last night?” she yelled. “Trust me, Del-Rey, we did. You didn’t have to punish them this severely. Now damn you, fix it.”
“I don’t think so.” He straightened and braced his arms on the desk to look at the files on the e-pad lying before him.
Not that he read a damned word that was on there. It was the impression that counted.
“You can’t do this,” she argued.
“I’m alpha.” He shrugged. “I can and will do this.” He lifted his head. “By the way, since I can’t punish you in the same manner, would you like to know what I’ve come up with?”
Her eyes widened. “You do not punish me, you slack-brained, dim-witted mongrel. I’ll shoot your ass with your own gun.”
God bless her. He was going to fuck her until she was begging for mercy. Right there on his desk if she wasn’t damned careful.
“Your punishment is a week in my bed, every night, eight hours, while I’m sleeping. Beginning tonight.”
“I’m returning to Haven, along with my security force.” Her voice was strangled. “You can’t order me anywhere.”
“Check our separation agreement,” he suggested casually as he scrawled his signature on the document and sent it to Brim. “While I’m here you’re only allowed off this base if your safety and security isn’t endangered. I’ve deemed both in jeopardy. My report was filed no more than an hour ago with the members of the tribunal and has been returned with their agreements.” He lifted his head. “As for sleeping in my bed, yes, Mate, I can order that as well under the same conditions. I’m certain you’ll consider that your punishment, rather than your reward for actually managing to stay alive.”
He pushed the e-pad to the side an
d watched as her breasts heaved, her nipples spiked. Caffeine and anger. They were a destructive combination with the mating heat and he knew it. Keep her pissed off enough, he might get a chance at that kiss that he was dying for.
“You’re not serious!” she exclaimed. Her blue eyes were shocked. Her face was flushed.
Oh, he was serious. As serious as the hard dick in his pants.
“Give me forty minutes, cupcake.” He smiled back at her. “And I’ll let you go bitch about it to the lupina while Dr. Armani is upping your hormones. I can smell your arousal. I like it.”
Her fingers curled at her sides. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“Nope, not this week,” he laughed back at her. “I’m really pretty sane for me right now. Ask Brim, he can tell you, sometimes I’m actually trying to have fun.”
Anya stared back at him in outraged amazement. The man took idiocy to a new level. He was sitting there grinning at her as though he were actually having fun. Calling her “cupcake.” She was going to poison his cupcake if he didn’t find a measure of intelligence in that thick skull of his.
“Look.” She tried for calm. “You can’t take Ashley’s allowance. Getting her nails fixed, buying her shoes and girly stuff keeps her grounded. Emma will break everything in the kitchen if you put her in there. And Sharone will end up shooting Brim. Not that he won’t deserve it. But I’d prefer she not have to deal with the guilt later.”
He relaxed farther back in his chair, lifted those long, powerful legs and propped them on the corner of his desk as he stared back at her, his lashes lowered over his eyes.
“If Sharone shoots him, then he’ll have deserved it.” He shrugged. “As for Emma, inform her if she breaks anything I’ll add a week. And Ashley will survive without her nail treatments for a while. It will remind all of them who the alpha is around here.”
His smile was all teeth as he crossed his arms over his chest and let his gaze drift down her body. And she felt it, almost as though it were a phantom touching her.
“I will not sleep with you either,” she bit out. “Get it out of your mind.”
“Fine. I’ll sleep in your bed with you.” He shrugged. “Either way, you’re gonna be my cuddle bunny for a week. It gets damned cold at night for some reason, Coya. You can keep me warm.”
His what? His cuddle bunny?
“Oh, you are so reaching,” she said scathingly. “Warm your ass on a brick, because it’s not getting in my bed.”
“It’s not my ass that gets cold,” he laughed. “Come on now, my little coya. What’s wrong, afraid you’ll have another of those hot little dreams and let me actually get a taste of that wet little pussy?” His gaze dropped to her thighs. “I’ll make sure you’re awake for it. I’m a gentleman like that.”
“You’re a sorry excuse for a Breed and an even sorrier excuse for a mate,” she snarled. “How dare you order me to sleep with you. You didn’t buy me off the street, you crackpot.”
His brows lifted. “I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap. Be civil or we’ll try for two weeks.”
“You bastard!”
“Three?”
She was shaking. Anya couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had been more furious. It swept over her like a tidal wave, slammed inside her and sent heat searing her insides for vital seconds.
She stumbled against the onslaught, almost gasping as it peaked in her clit and sent a shot of pain racing through her system.
“Anya!”
Del-Rey’s chair slammed into the wall as he tore from his seat and raced to her, catching her before she hit the floor. Her face was suddenly pale, sweat gleaming on her forehead as her blue eyes stared back at him in stark pain.
“Brim!” He tore the door open as he held her to him, then picked her up in his arms.
Brim and Sharone raced from Command as Emma and Ashley moved from the lounge, fear flashing across the girls’ faces.
“I need transport,” he called out. “Contact Armani and tell her to be waiting at the door.”
Anya moaned, a low, pain-filled sound as she tried to curl against him. Sweet God in heaven. What the hell was wrong? He ran for the base exit as Brim shouted out orders for his personal security detail to be waiting. Behind him, Anya’s friends followed, weapons being strapped on as they ran, concern filling the air with a dark, fear-tainted scent.
What the hell had happened? One minute she was sniping at him and the next she was nearly passing out from pain? This wasn’t mating heat. Mating heat didn’t do this. He’d researched that fucking curse and it simply didn’t do this.
“Del-Rey.” Her voice was weak as he stepped through the doors swinging open into the late evening air. “What’s wrong with me?”
Fear filled her voice as her body tensed. Del-Rey swore he felt the pain that tore through her slight body. She moaned, her forehead pressing into his shoulder as a Coyote threw open the passenger door to the all-terrain/all-duty vehicle they used on the rough passes they called roads.
Sharone, Emma and Ashley jumped in through the back access door and braced themselves as the soldier moved quickly behind the wheel and set the vehicle into motion.
“Hurry, Martin,” he ordered the Breed furiously as Anya moaned again. “Get us to Haven as fast you can get through those fucking passes.”
He held her tighter, wishing he could take the pain, hating the cold sweat that gleamed on her pale face as he braced her against his broader body for the rough ride into the valley.
Each time she flinched, gripped her stomach and cried out from the pain, he swore he lost a part of his control. He was enraged, fury roaring through his veins and, yes, fear tearing through his mind. Nothing could happen to her. God, nothing could happen to her, because Del-Rey knew, if anything did, he would lose himself.
Anya had never felt anything like the agony undulating in her lower stomach. She swore it felt as though something were being ripped out of her body in pulsing waves. Ice lashed at her, then heat. She was sweating and she was freezing everywhere except where Del-Rey was touching her.
What the hell had happened? She remembered the anger coursing through her, tasting it in her mouth, wanting to claw his eyes out. Then she remembered the wave of heat that swamped her an instant before the pain began clawing through her system, and the ride down the mountain at breakneck speed before Del-Rey rushed her into Armani’s examining room.
She was bre