The Mating (Black on Black, #1)

by BJ Cunningham

  “I promise I’ll ask for help. I love you.” He covered them with a blanket and rubbed her back, taking in her scent and the feel of her skin against his.

  Nodding, but just barely, she swallowed the lump in her throat and just held onto him for as long as they had left.

  ‘Panther I hope you’re packed and ready.’ Zev’s voice filled Jared’s head.

  Growling, he looked down at Serra. ‘I’ll be ready in a few minutes,’ Jared linked back. “I have to go, baby. I love you, and I’ll keep in touch. I promise.” He kissed her and got out of bed. Going to his closet, he pulled a large bag and ghosted himself dressed. Taking the large bag, he put it on the foot of the bed and unzipped it to check that everything was in it. “I think I’ve got everything I need,” he said out loud.

  Crawling to the end of the bed, Serra leaned over the bag, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him softly. “I love you, Jared. Be careful.”

  “I love you too.” He kissed her back. “I’ll talk to you soon, I promise.” Taking the bag, he ghosted out.

  Serra’s legs folded, dropping her ass to her crossed ankles when he ghosted out, leaving her staring at nothing but empty space. The tears came for real then, not just a trickle but a rush. Falling back on the bed, she hugged the pillow he always used to her tightly and prayed that he’d be back, in one piece and soon.

  CHAPTER 10

  Opening her eyes and yawning wide, flashing some serious fang, Serra enjoyed that all too brief moment of groggy confusion when everything was right with the world. Jared’s scent was still all over her and lingering in the air, comforting her and pulling a purr from her throat.

  Lifting her head to look for him, it all came flooding back. Fuck. She dropped her head and closed her eyes. He was gone, and she hated it. Knowing that he was tracking a damned serial killer, of all fucking things, didn’t make her feel better. If anything, it left a cold pit in her stomach that she hadn’t been able to shake since she read the file. Growling, she shoved her head under the pillow that still smelled like him, trying to remember that if she was breathing this morning, that meant he was too. It wasn’t much in the way of a happy thought it but was something.

  Shifting human, she stretched, reaching for the ring he’d given her before he left and slid it onto her finger, holding up her hand to admire it. It was beautiful, but what made her throat tighten was what it meant. He didn’t have to marry her, they were mated, but that he wanted to? Yeah, that made her chest ache in a way that felt right. Rolling to the edge of the bed, she found four eyes blinking back at her. “Hey brats,” She grinned and ruffled the fur on their heads. “Ready for breakfast?” She poked Theo on the nose when he swatted at her hand. “I’m coming. Just give me a sec.”

  Ghosting on a pair of baggy sweats and a tank top, she forced herself to get out of bed and stepped carefully as the Cubs darted between her legs all the way to the kitchen. Pulling down two clean bowls, she rummaged through the fridge for meat and cut the beef into smaller chunks before setting the dishes on the floor. Smiling softly, Serra watched as they ate.

  Wrinkling her brow, she noticed the keys, card, and note on the granite island countertop. Unfolding the note to read it, she groaned as her eyes moved over the words. Great, Jared is gone for less than a day and already his son was moving out. “Way to fuck shit up, Serra,” she mumbled to herself, dropping her head onto her hands.

  Daniel dropped the duffle bag to the weathered hardwood floor and leaned his elbows on the glossy oak bar top. He wiped at a water spot with the sleeve of his leather jacket, ignoring the dark bangs that fell over his face. He’d done it. Packed a bag and left home. What the hell was Jared thinking, leaving him there with her? He couldn’t fucking stand her, and there was no way in hell he was going to live in the same house with her. Not if his father wasn’t there. Daniel shook his head and sighed. He needed to go back for the rest of his stuff, once he had a place to put it, but he could do that when Serra wasn’t home. Paula hadn’t hit his text back yet, but he knew that she was going to give him a long speech about being overly dramatic about the situation, but she didn’t have to live it.

  Brock shifted the cases of booze in his arms, leaning them against the wall as he reached for the knob and pulled the door. Holding it open with his boot, he flipped off the light switch and balanced the load before leaving the stockroom and stepping into the bar. It was early and mostly empty, which was good, because he had a shit ton to get done and, as usual, no one else was chomping at the bit to do any of it. He growled and pushed the cases onto the counter behind the bar. He hadn’t signed on for this shit, and sure as fuck, they didn’t pay him enough to work the bar and wrangle its misfit crew and his brothers too.

  Arching a brow when he saw Daniel’s reflection in the mirror. Grabbing a clean rag from the bin, he wiped his hands and leaned into the cooler to pull out a couple of beers by their necks, wiping the condensation from the bottles as he walked toward the cub who was too lost in thought to know that he wasn’t alone. Clearing his throat, Brock dropped a pressed paper coaster onto the bar and topped it with one of the bottles in his hand. Laughter in the back corner caught his attention. She was back. Brock sighed and pulled a long flat bottle opener from his back pocket and popped the caps. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, Cub?”

  Daniel shrugged and pushed the hair back from his face when he looked up. Wow. He hadn’t even noticed that the Bear was here. Playing it off, he held up the chilled bottle. “Isn’t it early for this?”

  Brock grinned and wiped his big hands on the towel before tossing it up to drape over his shoulder. His gaze traveled back to the laughing female as she pushed Dane’s head playfully. He sighed again. She didn’t even know that he was alive. “It’s five o’clock somewhere. So spill it, what’s up?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Daniel turned his head to look over his shoulder, scanning the bar for what had Brock’s attention, hoping that it was trouble that needed to be handled. He could use a good fight right now to distract him. Daniel’s brow’s popped. It was a woman. Tall, blonde, leggy and the power that drifted in the air around her smelled like a goddess. “Who’s she?” He asked, still watching the female.

  “Kara,” Brock answered his voice turning to a low growl. “Dane’s girl.”

  Daniel snorted and shook his head, pulling his eyes away and swinging his head back to face Brock, who was still locked on the chick. “The fucking band. They get all the choice ones.” He didn’t get it, but he had learned to play guitar in hopes that some of that girl magnet magic would come his way. “Didn’t think the drummer had it in him, though. Not for that.”

  “I know, right?” Brock echoed the snort and raised the bottle to hover in front of his lips. “So what’s wrong?”

  Daniel took a drink. The corner of his mouth turned up as he watched Brock’s eyes drift back to the blonde. The Bear had it bad. “I moved out of the Old Man’s.”

  Brock arched a brow. “Really? Why? I thought you two were getting along and isn’t he out of town?”

  Daniel scrubbed his face with his hands. “He is, and we are.” Why was he surprised that Jared and left him in the dust again? He should be used to it by now. It was the story of his life. It still stung. Not even a goodbye. Just poof, gone. “I ain’t staying there with Serra,” he sneered when he said her name.

  Brock barked a laugh and shook the hair back from his face. “Not getting along with the new stepmom?”

  “Something like that.”

  “She seems okay. I mean, for a Panther,” the Bear teased.

  Daniel shrugged.

  “Wait. Didn’t you hang with Serra when Brian used to take you to The Asylum?”

  “Yeah.”

  Brock gave him a look. “So, what happened?”

  “The usual.” Daniel took a long drink from the bottle. He really didn’t want to talk about this shit.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning she left. She waited until I counted on her and then she fucking di
sappeared. Just like everyone else.” Daniel growled. “Okay?”

  Brock’s head snapped back at the venom in the cub’s voice. “Maybe she had her reasons. You know, her own shit to work through,” he said, remembering the hollow blue gaze that Serra had turned on him when she’d come to The Pit to go through the portal. He’d never asked her what had happened, but whatever it was, it had shattered the girl.

  “Whatever,” Daniel answered and drained his beer.

  Brock felt his face flush. Holding the female responsible for imagined bullshit when she’d barely been able to keep herself together, pissed him off. He knew the look she’d had and that scent of near death. It had been her last straw, go home to the mountain or step in front of a bus.

  He picked up his beer and wiped the bar where it had been. “I little piece of advice, kid. Wake up and realize that not everything is about you. Good luck with being on your own.” Balling the towel into his fist, Brock walked away.

  Daniel blinked at the Bear’s back. What the fuck had just happened?

  The Asylum’s annual New Year’s Eve bash was in full swing downstairs. The music pounded, and the lights flashed as guests opened their gift bags and drank as though relief from a drought was upon them. Old friends had come from all over the country to give the year one hell of a sendoff with the Mangus family. It was a time of celebration and hope, but Damion wasn’t feeling any of it. Instead, he sat in his office with the untouched glass of Irish whiskey beside him on the desk as he stared at the family photograph in his hands. He hated what he saw missing, what had been missing for too long, his pigheaded baby girl.

  Christmas had come and gone without a peep from her. She could have come and at least spent it with everyone else, even if she ignored him. This whole thing made his heart ache and at the same time pissed him off. If she knew what her ‘mate’ had said, she’d have set the son of a bitch on fire too. How the hell she lived with the bastard and didn’t see what an asshole he was, baffled Damion. Why that male? Of all that she could choose from, that one? Growling, he dropped the frame face down on his desk and leaned back in the plush leather office chair. “Damn it Serra, how long can you hold a grudge and where the hell have you been?”

  He rubbed his face and lifted the glass to his lips taking a drink and grimacing at the burn as it made its way to his stomach to glow warmly. He shouldn’t be surprised. She’d always been the female version of himself. They shared the same taste in music, in booze and their tempers were carbon copies. She even rolled her eyes in the same ‘God help me,’ way that he did. A smile curled the corner of his mouth, lingered for a second and then disappeared. She was fearless, never taking the easy road. Hell, he didn’t think she even saw the easy way. Damion shook his head. She was her father’s daughter. Putting his feet up on the desk, he drank his liquor in silence and closed his eyes.

  Serra fucking hated that she was doing this, but it was eating away at her. She hated fighting with Damion, and the simple truth was that she missed the hell out of him. Leaving the sleeping cubs on the bed in her old room, she ghosted to the dim hall outside her father’s office. She dropped her head to rest against the wall, trying to squash her annoyance with herself and how nervous she was. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her arm, flexing her fingers a few times before curling them into a fist and knocking softly.

  Damion groaned. He wasn’t in the mood for guests wanting to share their drunken good cheer. He just wanted to be left the fuck alone, to be miserable in peace. Without opening his eyes, he addressed the knock with irritation. “What? And this had better be damned important!”

  Opening the door and poking her head inside, Serra’s chest clenched as her eyes slid over her father leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed. Shutting the door behind her, she lowered herself to the sofa against the wall and leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “Hi, Pops. I thought we should talk.” Groaning at how lame that sounded she waited for him to acknowledge her presence.

  The last thing that he’d expected to hear was Serra’s voice or the despair in it. Opening his eyes, he rolled his head to look at her, smiling a little. She was all defiance, from her stubborn chin to her pose on the couch. “Yes, we should. Help yourself.” He gestured to the bar with his drink and sat up, leaning his arms on his desk. “We do have some things to hash out, don’t we, Munchkin?”

  Nodding, she pushed herself to her feet and crossed the room to get a beer from the bar, popping the top and taking a long drink. “Yeah, we do.” Turning to face him, she leaned back against the wall and stayed put. All she wanted to do was run over and hug him. Crossing her boots at the ankle, she sipped again, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the slight shake of her hand. “Where do we start?”

  Damion gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. “Sit, please.” The nervous clink of her rings against the glass bottle and the slight tremor of her hand made him want to take her into his arms like he had when she was a cub. He needed to do it, but couldn’t. She was a grown Panther now, and they needed to hash this shit out, or it would fester. So until it was solved, for better or worse, he was treating it like he would any business issue, at arm’s length. So what if it killed him to see her standing so far away and looking so small and defenseless? “You decide.”

  Dropping into the chair, she pulled one leg to her chest and balanced the bottle on her knee. Fuck, where to start? “I should have come home for Christmas. I know.” She glanced up to meet his dark eyes and swallowed hard, dropping her gaze to the frayed denim of her jeans, picking at it and finding it fascinating. “It was childish. I’m sorry. But damn Pops...” She shook her head and trailed off when her throat clenched too tight to talk.

  His resolve dissolved when he saw her lips tremble and heard her voice break. Leaning across the broad expanse of the desk’s glossy black surface, he reached for her hand. “But you’re here now, Serra. That’s all that matters. I love you. Always. Even when you’re angry with me.” His brow creased at the turmoil that fogged her scent turning it smoky. “I may have behaved badly, but you need to understand that even though you are a grown woman, you’re always going to be my Baby Girl.”

  Closing her fingers around his hand, she squeezed and glanced up through her hair. “I get that, and I love you for it, but he’s my mate, Pops. He’s here to stay if I have fuck all to say about it. Living with me is hard enough, I don’t need you trying to chase him off too.”

  Damion gave her fingers a small squeeze and sighed, hating how this had become blown out of proportion. “I know Serra.”

  Sighing, she sipped her beer. “I feel like I have to choose, and you have no idea how much that sucks.”

  He sighed and shook his head, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. “I’m not asking you to choose. I know better.” A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “You can’t expect me to sit back and let him be disrespectful, even if he is your mate. I can’t allow that.”

  Her brows shrugged together. “What did he do that was disrespectful? Please, Pops. I want to understand.”

  He considered telling her, but it would only cause more trouble. He wanted her to be happy. He doubted that her mate could make that happen, but Damion wasn’t going to be the one so make it harder for her. “It doesn’t matter. If he can be civil, then so can I. It’s not easy for an old Panther, stuck in his ways, to accept this. I just don’t want you to get hurt, Serra. This is serious, and that you’ve chosen to bind your lives together, makes it more so. I worry, Munchkin.”

  She dropped her head to the desk. She should have known that she wouldn’t get an answer. “I know it’s serious.” She sighed. “I’m not as naive as you think I am. This time trying isn’t good enough, Pops. It’s wrong for me to ask him to change who he is just to please you. Same goes for asking you to change. I need you two to work this shit out.” Tears stung the back of her eyes as the certainty that this wasn’t going to work, no matter how badly she wanted it to, hurt. She wasn’t going to be able to hav
e both. Serra blinked her eyes, trying to make the tears that were pooling, back the fuck off. She shouldn’t have come. She was too raw from worrying about Jared right now. She lifted her head and met her father’s gaze. “I hope you can because I love him. It’s not like when I was a kid, and I thought I loved some ass hat. This is the, hurt him and I will rip your heart out of your chest and make you watch it while you die, kind of thing.” She shrugged. “This is different.”

  Damion closed his eyes for a moment. That fucking binding of the souls and life forces did that shit. He was going to have to deal with the son of a bitch of a son-in-mate if he wanted his daughter happy and in his life. “I’ll try to be civil. That’s all I can promise, Serra. I’ve never made one to you that I couldn’t keep when you were a cub, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to start now. I don’t think you’re naive. I just need you to know the severity of this. He tilted her head up with a finger under her chin and winked, trying to bury the hatchet. “You know you beat Seth in being mated? He’s still a man-whore.”

  She didn’t want to smile, let alone laugh, but she couldn’t help herself. “It’s good to know that some things never change.” Pushing out of the chair, she threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. “I am in so far over my head, Pops. I don’t know how to be a mate, let alone a good one. I don’t want to screw this up like I have everything else. I need you to be there when I mess up and when I don’t.” She hadn’t meant to let it all rush out like that, but there was no taking it back. “I get how serious it is because I’m scared shitless. And now Jared is away, and I don’t know what I’m doing!”

  He almost fell over when she rushed to him, he wrapped his arms around her and ran a hand through her hair stroking her head slowly. “Shh, Serra. Shh. Daddy has you, Munchkin. It’s ok.” Holding her in his lap like he used to when she was little, he rocked her in his office chair. All of the anger and worries fell away, and he was just a devoted father tending to his scared little girl. “My little, Munchkin.”