Tiger's Claim

by Celia Kyle

  Cole snorted. Right.

  He kept his eyes trained on her, pausing to sip on his coffee now and again, but mainly focusing on the redhead outside. Did the woman know how tempting she was? Especially when she went all twisty and did fucking yoga? Some of the poses he recognized—Declan’s mate had decided that pregnancy yoga was a thing—while others were new to him. The one that damn near everyone in the world had to know was downward-facing dog. Now Stella had her ass up in the air, hips tilted just right, and Cole could go out there and…

  “Da-yum.” Grant broke into Cole’s fantasies. Bastard.

  Then the wolf’s word—and how he said it—sank into his mind. “Excuse me?”

  Grant obviously hadn’t heard the warning in Cole’s tone because the werewolf repeated himself. And then some. “Da-double-yum.” He shook his head. “I need to take up yoga. Today.” The werewolf looked at Cole, his smile wide, and waggled his eyebrows. “Think she’ll give me a hands-on lesson?”

  He’d managed to keep his tiger on the leash until Grant had gotten to the end of his question, but the “hands-on lesson” pushed the cat over the edge. It slipped its leash, baring its fangs and sinking its claws into Cole’s mind as it raced forward. The animal was going to take control and bring Grant down no matter what his human half said. Although his human half was just about on the same page as the cat.

  Where the tiger yearned to kill the male that threatened to encroach on its territory, Cole-the-human simply wanted to pluck out Grant’s eyes. Grant couldn’t ogle what he couldn’t see, right? It seemed perfectly logical and an excellent plan.

  “You want Stella to give you a hands-on lesson?” He managed to keep the anger out of his voice. Barely.

  Cole extended his arm and placed his half-empty coffee mug on the counter, the ceramic not making a sound as it touched granite. He had to retain control of his body—movements careful and precise. Otherwise the cat would win and overwhelm him with brute strength.

  Grant snorted. “Have you seen her?” The wolf chuckled. “Of course you have. You’ve had her in your bed for days and over the weekend.” He padded to the coffeepot and snared a mug, filling his cup before going back to his position. The one that let him watch Stella. “I’ve never been one to pick up a teammate’s ex, but…” He shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “Whoo. She’s tempting enough to forget you ever—”

  Cole burst into action, striking before Grant realized he was moving. One hand snared Grant’s mug while the other went to his shoulder. A shove and spin, and then Cole had the wolf by the back of the neck. He pushed on Grant’s neck, forcing him to bend over while Cole brought his knee up to strike the wolf’s stomach. Air wheezed from his teammate, and while Grant sucked wind, Cole pinned the wolf’s head to the granite counter. Grant continued to cough and wheeze, so Cole took a moment to place his friend’s mug beside his own.

  Hand empty, Cole bent and placed his elbow on the counter, propping his head in his hand. “Would you care to repeat that?”

  “Uh…” Grant tensed as if he were gonna fight Cole, but he and his tiger were having none of that.

  “I said, would you repeat that?” Cole squeezed the wolf’s neck a little tighter, his tiger’s claws emerging to prick his teammate’s skin. The tiniest hint of blood snuck into the air, the scent mingling with the smell of Grant’s unease.

  “I was just…you know…” Grant stuttered, rushing through excuses, and Cole waited. The wolf would get to denying everything eventually. “She’s a grown woman and…My mama said a woman has a right to choose, so…Dammit, Cole, it’s not like you’ve claimed her. I’m not stealing her from you. I’d wait until she actually was an ex before I made my move. You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

  Boyfriend?

  Cole furrowed his brow, mind replaying that single word over and over, and that was just enough distraction for his inner cat. The beast pounced, animal’s mind overtaking his human thoughts. Fur slipped from his pores while his fangs pushed past human teeth. His bones ached, the tiger wanting to take on more of his feline shape. He managed to hold the animal back enough to cling to two legs and two arms. That didn’t keep the tiger from talking, though.

  It had one word in mind. “Mine.”

  Grant sucked in a quick breath and tensed within his grip. “Yours? As in your girlfriend? Or your mate?”

  The cat spoke through him again, no hesitation in its thoughts. “Mate.”

  The word reverberated in his head in an unending echo. The tiger was making its feelings known. And Cole…Fuck him sideways, he embraced the beast’s desires. There’d been something about Stella from the moment he’d caught sight of her in that fucking ballroom. Something about her innocence tempered by her craving for violence that connected with a hidden part of him.

  Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but watch out because she might stab you with the butter knife.

  “Does she know that? Or is this the first time you’ve said the words out loud?”

  Cole glared at Grant and wondered if killing Grant because he was annoying would be classified as justifiable homicide. He sighed. Probably not.

  Giving his teammate one last squeeze, he lifted Grant’s head from the counter and shoved the wolf. “Fuck off.”

  That just made the wolf laugh. “It is the first time, isn’t it? You’ve been panting after her for a week and you’re just now admitting she’s your mate? You two alternate between fighting like wet cats and climbing all over each other. It didn’t take me long to see that she was it for you.” Grant snorted. “I hope I’m not as oblivious as you are when I find my mate.”

  Cole didn’t have anything to say to that, so he just kept glaring.

  “So, if you’re just admitting it to yourself, you obviously haven’t talked to Stella about anything.” Grant looked to him, eyebrows raised.

  He answered it by quirking one of his. “That wasn’t a question.”

  The werewolf rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re such an ass. You two need to figure that shit out. Soon.” He pointed at Cole. “Because she thinks she’s coming along when we find Walters.”

  “Fuck no.” Cole’s tiger still spoke, but it wasn’t like Cole’s human mind disagreed. “It’s too dangerous. The weekend on the island was bad enough, but to actively seek him out.” Cole shook his head. “No.”

  “Uh-huh. You’re gonna go with the grunt, grunt ‘me mate, you listen’ approach? I’m sure that’ll work juuust fine.”

  “It will.” Cole nodded to reaffirm his statement. “Mates trust each other. I’m a trained agent; she’s not. She trusts me. She’ll know that I have her safety in mind and will do what I think is best.”

  “I’m not sure if you believe what you’re saying or if you’re fucking with me.” Grant narrowed his eyes. “Because it’s not about trust. It’s about giving her what she needs. She needs to be there.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you spontaneously grow a vagina, or did you find a Cosmo magazine somewhere in the cabin?” Grant opened his mouth to reply, but Cole held up a hand, silencing him. “Never mind. Keep it to yourself because I’ve got this.”

  “Got what?”

  “The mating thing. I can handle it on my own. And”—Cole pointed at Grant—“I don’t need you hanging around here giving me shit.”

  “My job is to look after you two.”

  “Because I was hurt.” Cole brought his arms to his sides and flexed his chest and abs. “I’m not anymore. Which means you can leave us alone. As soon as you know where Walters is, send a babysitter for Stella, and I’ll hook up with the team.”

  “Babysitter for Stella?” Grant slowly shook his head. “You need to rethink your plan because it’s so full of mistakes, I’d think Pike came up with it.”

  “I’m not gonna let you goad me by comparing me to some twentysomething newbie baby-agent.” Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll make you a deal. As soon as you have a mate of your own, I’ll take your
advice. Since you don’t, I guess I’ll just have to make decisions on my own. My decision is that you need to get the hell out of here so I can go claim Stella.”

  Privately. Loudly. Repeatedly.

  Grant shrugged. “Have it your way, but when she tries to blow you up, don’t come crying to me.”

  Grant spun on his heel and left the room on silent feet. Cole snorted and turned back to watching Stella. The morning sun outlined her curves, touching her hair so it looked like living fire and caressing her pale skin until she seemed to glow.

  Stella? Blow him up? Grant was an idiot.

  Chapter Thirty

  Stella gave her body one last stretch, sinking into the pull on her muscles, and breathed into the pain. She—and her cat—enjoyed the peace that yoga brought to her mind. It forced her to slow and think of her body placement, to forget everything else in her life.

  Like Cole Turner—lickable body, seductive smile, and confusing-as-hell tiger.

  They’d kissed, they’d touched, and they’d explored each other’s bodies with the exception of one thing. There had been no home run, no parting of the pink sea or jamming the clam. Which, okay, Cole had almost died. She understood that even a shifter needed time to recover.

  Her pink taco did not understand.

  Wait. She was supposed to be forgetting about her lack of funny business. Maybe it was time to go through her poses again. She began in the mountain pose, then stepped back and adjusted to warrior. From there…

  The rumble of a vehicle engine disturbed the morning silence, the deep growl filling the air. She lowered her arms and turned her attention to the cabin, gaze sliding from the building to the gravel driveway nearby. Their SUV slowly backed up along the length of gravel, Grant behind the wheel. He flashed her a small smile and a tiny wave, which she returned even though she was pretty sure Grant had told her they wouldn’t be leaving the cabin for a while. Like, not until Walters was located.

  But there Grant went, SUV disappearing between the trees. Her jaguar gave her hearing a boost, and she continued to listen until he reached the end of the long drive. She furrowed her brow, trying to think of any reason why the werewolf would leave them. Had his contact sent him a message? Was he off to meet someone and had decided to leave her out?

  Asshole. If he—

  The dock rocked, large wood platform trembling beneath her bare feet. She looked down at the aged wood and then scanned the water, searching for a cause for the shaking. She didn’t see anything, the water clear, with no hint of large aquatic life. A few little minnows, but they wouldn’t have shaken the pier. Except then it trembled again. And again. And again. It felt almost like something big and heavy was running…

  Stella swung her attention to the shore and gasped. A massive, eight-hundred-pound tiger raced toward her, its dinner-plate-sized paws stomping on the pier, shaking the wood so hard she wondered if it’d survive the shifter’s treatment. His black stripes contrasted against the bright orange and splotches of white. Amber eyes met hers, serious and intent, but she sensed the playfulness that lingered as well.

  The oversized housecat moved faster, and she was awed by the power the beast held. Layers of thick muscle covered him, and he had four-inch claws at the tips of his paws. Death on four legs. And he was coming for her.

  That realization had her jaguar purring in response. Furball forbid his attack spur her into fight-or-flight mode like any normal person. Nope, her kitty wanted to rub all over Cole’s tiger. It wanted to get up close and purrsonal.

  Lame pun, Stella. Funny but lame.

  The distance between them lessened with each bounding step, the pier shaking harder and harder the closer he came. Any moment now he’d be within striking distance and…And Cole’s muscles tensed, powerful body crouching while his nails dug into the aged wood. As a cat shifter herself, she recognized the pose. He was getting ready to pounce.

  Stella’s cat chirped with the thought, more than happy to get pounced by the big guy. Suddenly it didn’t care that he hadn’t given them what they craved. The she-cat wanted to rub her scent on Cole, bathe him in her aromas until every bitch within a thousand miles knew that Cole Turner belonged to…She refused to let that thought continue. Especially since she had no idea about Cole’s feelings for her.

  Cole leapt. Eight hundred pounds launched into the air, front legs outstretched and reaching for her. If she allowed herself to get caught, the big asshole would send her tumbling into the lake. Hell no. With the tiger in the air, she dropped to the wood dock and rolled toward the shore, effectively trading places with the animal. She popped to her feet, and the cat slid across the wood planks, digging his claws in to keep himself from sliding into the still lake.

  Stella faced off against Cole, hands outstretched to keep him at bay while she backed away from him. “Cole, what are you doing?”

  He chuffed, a feline laugh.

  “Bravo to you for laughing at me, but seriously. What the hell?” Another chuff, the tiger slowly padding forward. His strides were longer than her own, bringing him closer instead of her movements keeping the distance the same. “You know, I was just trying to do some yoga. Can’t a girl get her yoga on without being pounced?”

  The tiger’s gaze slid over her, capturing her from head to toe. He licked his chops, large pink tongue sliding along his snout. His eyes were half-lidded, and then he did some weird thing with his tongue that…

  “Ew. Stop that,” she snapped. “You’re trying to be sexy or something, but you’re a cat. That’s…” She shuddered. “That’s gross, not sexy.”

  Cole straightened and faced her, his tail flicking left and right, betraying his anxiousness. At least she wasn’t the only one uneasy at the situation. He attempted to pull off the innocent “I’m made of sunshine and rainbows” look, but she saw through him. There was nothing innocent about the tiger. Nothing at all.

  “Cole…” She went back to warning him off. “I don’t know what’s up with you, but I’m going back into the house and…”

  He pounced. The tiger was faster than any eight-hundred-pound beast should be. One moment butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, and the next she had a tiger’s massive front legs wrapped around her. He was gentle but firm, his feline hug unbreakable as he eased his weight to his right. She fought his tumble, pulling against his weight, but she was no match for the tiger.

  A scream escaped her mouth, the loud screech scaring the birds out of the trees. Then she heard nothing, frigid water rushing over her head, up her nose and into her mouth. The cold enveloped her, soaking her clothes and hair.

  Cole released her the moment they struck the water, muscular legs unlocking before he swam away.

  As she scrambled for air, her feet struck the silt bottom of the lake and she pushed herself toward the surface. She heaved in a large breath, filling her lungs in one deep inhale. Flinging her hair out of her face, she wiped her eyes and then her face before finally searching out the stupid cat.

  He was easy to find, the big orange asshole not too far away and looking pleased with himself. Eyes dancing, pupils large, and mouth parted with his lips pulled back. Almost as if the tiger smiled at her. She’d wipe that smile right off his snout.

  “What. The. Hell?” A clump of hair fell forward, and she whipped it back again.

  More chuffing from the tiger.

  Stella pointed at him. “Shift back so I can yell at you.”

  Except her jaguar didn’t want to yell. It wanted to rub all over the tiger that’d caught them. She was ignoring the horny bitch for now.

  Cole tilted his head to the side as if she confused him. Riiight.

  “This is…” She gritted her teeth and glared a little harder, pulling on her building anger and frustration. “This is…This is bullshit.”

  She sighed and turned away from him, plodding through the water and toward the shore. The lake sloshed around her, pulling at her as she fought to leave. She trudged onward, not stopping until she reached the dried grass, and the
n plopped onto the ground. She faced him, Cole still in his tiger form while she sat with her knees bent and elbows propped on them. She crossed her arms and rested her chin on them, eyes staring at nothing and everything.

  “You get that this is bullshit, right?” She couldn’t look at him while she spoke. “You and me? We’re together and it’s fake, but then we kiss and then I save you and then we’re together some more but nothing really happens and…” She huffed. “I’m rambling, but that doesn’t change the fact that this is all muddled and confusing.” She turned her head slightly. Just enough to meet the tiger’s stare. “And then there’s SHOC and UH tied up in the middle of everything.”

  Cole huffed and frowned, the cat carefully easing toward her. He approached slowly, as if she’d bolt at any moment. The cat wasn’t wrong. Even if Stella’s jaguar disagreed, she could retain control long enough to put some distance between them. She didn’t say anything as he drew near, waiting to see how close the tiger would come to her. The answer was as close as she’d let him. He kept padding nearer, not stopping until she nearly had a tiger in her lap. She parted her legs enough for him to crawl between her thighs and plop his head on her leg.

  Cole turned onto his back, cat’s eyes focused on hers, and she stared down at the massive beast that could shred her in an instant. Yet she knew he wouldn’t. She knew he’d never hurt her. She sank her fingers into his fur, traced his snout and bopped the tip of his nose. And he…He purred, fierce tiger acting more like a domesticated cat than a highly trained SHOC agent.

  “What are you doing, Cole? What are we doing?” she whispered, the fight leaving her and exhaustion taking its place.

  The tiger stared at her, and his purr stopped for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers, and he…waggled his eyebrows.

  “Seriously?” Stella thumped his nose, not caring if it hurt. Even her inner cat was annoyed with the tiger now. The jaguar knew what she wanted. It started with an “M” and ended with an “ate.” The she-cat knew it’d have a fight on its paws since Stella was so twitchy about a relationship with the tiger, but the jaguar was determined.