The Master Shark's Mate (Fire & Rescue Shifters Book 5)

by Zoe Chant

  He could not deny the truth of the Royal Consort’s words. The Pearl Empress had only reclaimed her throne recently. There were still too many enemies circling round her, hunting any opportunity to tear her down.

  And he had sworn an oath to her father that he would protect her with his life.

  “I am sorry,” the Royal Consort said softly, when he didn’t speak. “I know full well what it is to be caught between duty and love. And in truth, I cannot tell you to pick duty over your mate. I tried to do that, and I know now that it would have destroyed me utterly, had I succeeded.”

  It was even harder than usual to force words out of his tight throat. “Then what would you have me do?”

  “You must persuade your mate to come to Atlantis. For the sake of my mate.” The Royal Consort met his eyes levelly. “For all our sakes.”

  Chapter 11

  Martha jerked awake to an unholy shrieking rattling her eardrums.

  “Mother of God!” Only the tangled sheets stopped her from falling out of bed. She thrashed to free herself, heart pounding. “Is there a fire?”

  Finn was already awake, sitting up in bed with his back against the wall. Silently, he pointed at her vibrating cellphone.

  “Oh.” Sitting up herself, Martha caught the device before it walked itself off the dresser. She cleared her throat, rubbing at her sticky eyes. “Hello?”

  “Ma!” Martha’s heart leaped at the panic in Nita’s voice. “Are you sick? What’s wrong? Do you need to come home?”

  Finn cocked his head, clearly about to ask a question. Martha slapped a hand across his mouth before he could speak, worried that Nita would overhear him.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Martha said into the phone. “What’s the matter? Why are you calling?”

  “Because you haven’t called us for a whole day! We thought something must have happened to you!”

  “Oh.” Martha glanced guiltily at Finn. “Sorry, honey. I was, um, busy.”

  She felt his lips twitch in amusement against her palm. She pressed down harder, mouthing: Keep quiet, you.

  “Ma,” Nita said, sounding suspicious. “You’re always busy, and it’s never stopped you from finding time to check up on everyone. You call us six times a day, and then suddenly nothing? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing!” Martha yelped, trying not to look at the naked seven-foot hunk of muscle next to her. “Nothing’s going on. Just enjoying a nice peaceful vacation, like you wanted.”

  “Oh.” Nita fell silent for a moment. “Guess I should be careful what I wish for. I was worried about you, Ma.”

  “Is that abuela?” Ximena yelled in the background. “Manny! Manny! Abuela isn’t dead after all!”

  “Abuela!” Manny sounded about to burst into tears. “Come back from Heaven! I miss you!”

  “Uh, the kids may have been a little worried too,” Nita said, over the howls and sobbing promises to be good if she’d just come home.

  It took fifteen minutes for Martha to reassure five-year-old Manny that she hadn’t actually become an angel, and that furthermore she was absolutely, definitely coming home at the end of the week. Then of course Ximena needed to talk to her abuela for just as long as Manny had, and then Nita’s wife Xo had a question about the upcoming church bake sale, and then Martha needed to talk to Nita again about Roddie, because if he didn’t stop provoking the rattlesnakes someone was going to get bit, and oh, while we’re talking…

  By the time Martha finally managed to hang up, her voice was as hoarse as Finn’s. She sighed as she dropped the phone back onto the dresser.

  “Sorry,” she said to him, taking her hand off his mouth at last. “Didn’t want them to hear you.”

  He nodded, but his face had gone back to that rock-like impassiveness he’d had when they’d first met. Throughout the long call, she’d had a strange sense of him retreating further into himself.

  She issued a smile at him, hoping to spark one in return. “It’s just that we’d have lost the whole day to answering fool questions if they’d realized what was up. You know how families are.”

  He looked down, rolling something between his palms. “No. I do not.”

  She kicked herself for walking straight into that one. Whatever shark families were like, she doubted they were as nosy—not to mention noisy—as a coyote pack. Especially her own brood.

  “What’ve you got there?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.

  He folded his fingers, hiding whatever it was in his vast fist. “You asked me something last night.”

  She blinked at him, thrown. “I did?”

  “Whether I wanted to bite you.” He still didn’t look at her.

  “Oh.” Her heart thumped against her ribs.

  He didn’t know what my pack was like, what he was letting himself in for. Now he does.

  She swallowed. “Well…do you?”

  He turned his head at last, and the intensity of his gray eyes took her breath away. “Yes. I want to be your mate. Fully.”

  Holy Mother of God, did he have a wedding ring in his hand? Martha couldn’t even begin to imagine why he would be carrying one around, but it was the only thing she could think of to explain the look on his face.

  “Yes,” she said, blinking back sudden, strange tears. “I want that too.”

  His knuckles whitened. “But I am what I am. I am the Master Shark, and the Voice of the Pearl Empress. No matter how I might wish it otherwise, I have responsibilities that cannot be set aside.”

  Her heart plummeted right down to the socks she wasn’t wearing. Of course he wasn’t free to leave the sea. He’d given her his true name, but he was still the Master Shark. Doubtless he had responsibilities she couldn’t even imagine.

  He looked back down at his closed fist. “I had thought to ask you to join me in Atlantis,” he said, very quietly.

  “What? Me?” She stared at him in disbelief. “I’m a coyote, not a fish!”

  “The Pearl Empress has personally granted permission for you to come, and there are ways for dry-landers to live under the sea. If you wanted.”

  Oh, she wanted. She wanted him. But enough to give up her whole life? Everything she knew? Her family?

  “Finn.” She put her hand on the side of his face, making him meet her eyes again. No matter what, they had to be honest with each other. “I want to be with you. More than anything. But you heard my family. They fall apart when I don’t call for a day, what do you think would happen if I announced I was taking off to live under the sea? Do you even have cellphones in Atlantis?”

  He shook his head, the barest motion.

  “So what do we do?” Martha whispered.

  His shoulders fell in a long sigh. He got up, reaching for his clothes. “I do not know.”

  She bit her lip, watching him dress. Even now, with her heart made of lead, the sight of his muscled body made heat surge through her veins.

  “Could we…figure it out later?” she asked, tentatively. “No matter what happens, we have the rest of this week. Can we take a vacation from our real lives, just for a little while?”

  He went still, his back to her. “Yes. We could do that.”

  She slipped out of bed herself, padding over to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leaned her forehead against the hollow of his spine, breathing in his salt-sea scent.

  Four days.

  Four days before reality caught up with them. Four days to find a way that they could be together.

  Otherwise four days would be all they had.

  Chapter 12

  She was not going to come with him.

  His hopes had ebbed away like the tide as she’d chattered to her family, leaving his heart bleak and bare. Her dark eyes had been alight, emotions darting across her expressive face as brightly as shoals of tropical fish.

  His kind were solitary by nature. Sharks might come together for a purpose—to feed, to mate, to defend territory—but it was usually a brief-lived alliance. In his arrogance, he ha
d assumed that a pack was no more than an unusually persistent hunting group.

  Now, having heard her talk to hers, he knew just how badly he’d been wrong. It was clear that a pack was more like a coral reef—a symbiotic relationship, lives so completely intertwined that they were like a single, unified being.

  And he had asked her to leave that behind. Trade her busy, sun-lit, joyous existence for the dark silence of the deep.

  She was not going to come with him.

  And she had not wanted her pack to know that he even existed.

  Martha glanced over her shoulder at him, her brow furrowed, and he made himself push his despair down into the abyss of his soul. He had promised her four days. A vacation from their real lives, she’d called it.

  If these four days were all that they could ever have, he would not spoil them with his insatiable hunger for more.

  “You all right?” she asked him. “Feet okay?”

  “I am fine.” In truth, his feet were aching abominably. But the pain was a welcome distraction from the deeper pain in his heart.

  Martha turned, putting her hands on her hips and glaring up at him. “No heroics, Finn. You can’t possibly be used to hiking.”

  “I spend a great deal of time in human form.” He lengthened his stride to catch up with her, forcing himself not to limp. “I must, in order to be the Voice of the Empress. Different types of sea shifters cannot talk with each other in our native forms, so we gather in Atlantis in order to speak with human voices. I am accustomed to walking.”

  Unfortunately, this stony dirt trail was a far cry from the smooth, coral-paved streets of Atlantis. The resort guidebook had described this as a ‘short, easy hike.’ If that was true, then he dreaded to think what a dry-lander might consider a difficult trek.

  Martha poked him in the center of his chest with one finger, still looking unconvinced. “Well, you just say if you want to take a break, okay? No shame in admitting you need a rest.”

  She trotted ahead again, her sneaker-clad feet flashing easily across the uneven terrain. She looked as fresh as she had two hours ago, when they’d first started off. Watching the glide of the muscles in her strong brown legs, he was strongly tempted to suggest they did indeed take a break…though not to rest.

  She cast him another glance over her shoulder, but this time her eyes were mischievous rather than concerned. “I’m beginning to think you’re lagging behind deliberately, you know.”

  “I am admiring the view.” He let his gaze drift over her curves, enticingly displayed in cut-off shorts and a filmy top. “You said that was the purpose of a hike.”

  “Oh, you.” Nonetheless, there was an extra sway to her hips as she turned away. “Come on, keep up. We must be nearly there.”

  He could hear the familiar murmur of the sea now, under the foreign trills and squawks of dry-land birds and insects. The scent of moisture in the air grew stronger as they followed the trail up the last few switchbacks.

  “Oh my.” Martha sighed in delight as they finally emerged out of the jungle and into the sunlight again. “Would you just look at that.”

  A glittering waterfall tumbled down the cliffs, casting sparkling rainbows over the worn rocks. Fifty feet below them, freshwater met the ocean in a spray of white foam. A tiny, perfect cove surrounded the waterfall, the lush emerald jungle spilling over onto the narrow strip of silver sand.

  Martha’s warm hand crept into his. They stood for a while in silence, just looking.

  Land and sea, water and air. The stream needed the rock to turn its eternal movement into beauty; the shore would be bare as bone without the water. It all came together in perfect union.

  He looked at Martha, and knew that he needed her as much as the land needed the water, the water the land.

  I will not give her up. There must be a way.

  “Would you shift for me?” he asked.

  She glanced up at him in surprise, startled out of her rapt contemplation of the waterfall. “You want to see my animal? Here? Now?”

  He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I have never seen a coyote.”

  If he better understood her nature, perhaps he would see a way forward for them. He needed to know her secret soul if he had any chance of finding a way to bridge their two worlds.

  Martha ducked her head, looking a little shy. “Well…okay then. But don’t set your expectations too high. Coyotes aren’t exactly majestic.”

  Stepping back into the shade of the tree line, she kicked off her sneakers. His blood surged as she pulled her top over her head. It was all he could do to stay still. His hands clenched at his sides, itching to reach for her lush breasts.

  From the swift downward flick of her eyes and sudden smug smile, she knew full well the effect she was having on him. She took rather longer than was strictly necessary about unfastening her bra, sliding the straps slowly down over her brown shoulders.

  “You sure it’s my coyote you want to see?” she teased him.

  “Yes,” he growled, hanging onto his self-control by his fingernails. “First.”

  She turned her back on him, casting a coy glance over her shoulder. Bending at the waist, she pulled her shorts and panties down over her soft thighs. Her round backside rolled seductively at him, her scent beckoning from her exposed pink cleft.

  That he could not resist. Without conscious thought, he was behind her, pushing her down to her hands and knees. She let out a triumphant giggle that turned into a gasping moan as he slid his fingers through her inviting folds.

  She was already wet for him, slick and eager. She ground against him as he pushed into her with two fingers, his other hand reaching round to find her hard nipples. He clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to sink them into her shoulder as she shuddered around him.

  She whined, spreading her legs wider, backside thrusting into the air. “More, Finn. I need you.”

  He needed her, more than he could ever say. Shoving down his own garments, he mounted her, too blind with need to be gentle. Her hot depths welcomed him. She enfolded him like the sea itself, powerful and irresistible. The rhythm of her pulsing tides swept him helplessly to his own climax.

  “Martha,” he gasped, spilling himself into her, coming home. “My mate!”

  He collapsed down against her, only just managing to catch himself on his hands and spare her his full weight. Breathing hard, he leaned his forehead against her shoulder. She let out a contented hum, arching back against him.

  “I win,” she said smugly.

  He let himself smile, since she couldn’t see his face. “I would still like to see your coyote.”

  She laughed, wriggling out from under him. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

  Pushing herself to her feet, she took a few steps away, holding eye contact. He drank in the sight of her naked, sweat-beaded skin, the soft curve of her belly, the beautiful lines that crinkled around her smiling eyes.

  She shook herself, a whole-body shimmy. And in an instant, the woman was gone.

  The breath sighed out of him. “Yes. That is who you are.”

  She had the same laughing amber eyes, the same proud tilt to her head. Her alert ears were made to catch every sound, her slim muzzle to follow the faintest scent. Her lush fur hid a thousand subtle shades of sand and rock. She would be swift and silent in the hunt, subtle and relentless.

  Her long tongue lolled out in an unmistakable smile. She trotted over, nudging her nose under his hand. He tentatively stroked her head, astonished by the texture. He’d never touched a furred creature before. Soft, so soft, but all strength underneath. So warm.

  She half-closed her eyes, leaning into his touch with evident pleasure. He ran his palm over her neck, exploring the thickness of her ruff, her hard, muscled shoulders. Her plumed tail thumped on the ground.

  She was made for open skies and wide desert. For running all night, slender legs and strong feet devouring the miles. Oh, they were well matched indeed. Though their forms could not have been
more different, they were both made for speed, and stamina, and the hunt.

  And that made their situation even worse than he had thought.

  He had feared that they were too different from each other. Instead, they were too alike. What would she do in the enclosed, underwater walls of Atlantis? She would be a shark in a tank, unable to express her true nature. Endlessly circling, endlessly yearning. Trapped.

  One pointed ear cocked in his direction. She nipped at his wrist, not breaking the skin, but a clear press of teeth into his flesh. Growling deep in her throat, she shook his arm, as if to drag him out of his spiraling thoughts.

  “My mate.” He pressed his face into her warm fur, breathing in her clean, dry scent. “You are beautiful.”

  Her eyes gleamed sidelong at him. Without warning, she sprang, knocking him backward with her front paws pinning his chest. Her broad wet tongue licked his face from chin to forehead.

  He spluttered, laughing out loud in surprise. She froze, head cocked down at him, and he froze too.

  He’d forgotten himself. He’d exposed his teeth.

  She shimmered, and the warm fur turned into warm skin, pressed against his. Still straddling him, Martha gently touched his mouth.

  “Show me again,” she said.

  His jaw tightened. “No.”

  She leaned down, pressing her mouth against his. He closed his eyes, unable to withstand her gentle insistence. Parting his lips, he allowed her soft, sweet tongue to explore the serrated points of his teeth.

  He had a triple row of them, like all his kind. Shark teeth in a human mouth.

  She pulled away again, with a last, lingering kiss. “I like your smile. You should do it more often.”

  “I do.” He could not help the ironic curl of his mouth, though habit kept his teeth safely hidden this time. “When I wish to alarm people.”

  She brushed her thumb across his lower lip. “You don’t alarm me. Finn, this isn’t going to work if you keep trying to hide who you really are.”

  He dropped his head back with a sigh, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. “You have always seen me as I truly am. I do not want you to start seeing me as others do.”