by Celia Kyle
Ryland slumped onto the seat with a moan and then a soft sigh, not focusing on her until he’d settled fully.
“Ryland, what…” His injuries were gone, dried blood the only reminder of his recent battle.
“The wolf,” the words were more of a growl than anything, “doesn’t like being hurt.”
No one liked being hurt., but that didn’t mean they could… She reached for the hand resting on the tabletop and carefully encircled his wrist. With infinite care, she turned it over, hunting for any hint of the deep gash that’d marred the flesh only moments ago. And found… nothing. Not a damned thing.
“But…” Disbelief wouldn’t leave her.
He turned his hand in her grasp and tugged against her hold until she released him. Then it was he who captured her hand. He clutched her, holding tightly as if she’d fight to get away from him.
Never.
“This is what it means to be mine.” His yellow eyes bore into hers. “I’m different. Better and worse. I’m not like the rest of your pride and they’ll either accept me or—“
“They will.” They wouldn’t have a choice.
“You don’t know that.” He sounded so tired. So defeated and exhausted and… they still had a body to deal with. A dead body, questions, and then her family.
She had to tell them.
Dammit.
“Ryland,” she whispered his name and leaned closer, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze to ensure he was focused on her. “They don’t matter. At all.”
“But your father…”
“Will still be my father. Even if I don’t live on Buchanan land.”
He shook his head, brow furrowed and mouth turned down in a frown. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re my mate. Where you go, I go. And if that’s not Buchanan land because the pride members are assholes, then we stay in Deals Gap. Carter is here. Bethany is here. You have a thriving business here.” She reached for him, cupping his red-painted cheek. “We can be happy here, and if my family wants to visit their grandpups or grandcubs, they’ll just have to drive to Deals Gap.”
And that was all there was to it.
Ryland froze. “Grand…”
Hannah gave him a small smile and hunted for words to lighten the mood. If she didn’t smile, she’d cry. The adrenaline from watching the battle was quickly deserting her and shock slowly encroached on her mind. She could have lost him. In those minutes that felt like hours, she could have lost him. “I assumed we’d have children at some point. You know, after we take care of all the drama.”
Then, as he sat there, bloody, injured, and looking half-dead, Ryland gave her the best kiss of her life.
That also happened to be the moment someone knocked on the front door.
14
Hannah reluctantly pulled away from her mate, keeping their lips connected until the last possible moment. Her lioness whined with the loss of his touch, but there was no avoiding the visitor. Not when she knew it was probably someone from town—one of the police officers or Greer.
She wasn’t sure which she preferred, but she figured neither were unavoidable. There had to be some sort of discussion about… about the dead body in the front yard. People would need to be called, statements taken, and then there was the question of Ryland being put in jail. No. That wasn’t happening. Over Hannah’s cold, dead body. She would call in every favor known to furland if she had to.
“I know y’all are home,” a booming voice filtered through the door. “The dead cat is a giveaway.”
Greer. She just had to remember he’d been reasonable when Carter killed a lion intent on murdering Bethany. Hopefully he’d be just as accepting now. Funny how the Buchanan family managed to screw things up when Bhric was gone.
Ryland growled and she immediately sought to soothe him, palm stroking his cheek and fingers caressing the tense lines of his face.
“Everything will be fine,” she whispered. She’d make it fine.
Her mate grunted. “Right.”
“C’mon.” She pushed to her feet and held out a hand, ready to help him rise. He gave her a look that said she was crazy if she thought he’d take her help.
Men.
Hannah padded toward the front door, intent on letting Greer inside. Being a good hostess—especially considering the circumstances—could only help them. Except the growl that came from her mate told her Ryland didn’t give a damn about being polite.
“Clothes,” he barked at her.
She glanced down at her body and it hit her that she was naked. “Ryland.” She rolled her eyes and turned. “We’re shifters—“
“Clothes.” This time he snarled.
“Fine.” With a grumble, she stomped toward the laundry room and rummaged through the basket. Freeing a baggy t-shirt and cotton shorts, she tugged them on. “Happy now?” His narrowed eyes told her he wasn’t, and the way he focused on her breasts then pussy told her why. “I’m not hunting up a clean bra and panties. Get over it.”
Next, her thudding footsteps took her to the front door. Hand on the knob, she tightened her grip but paused before she turned it. A glance over her shoulder showed her that Ryland was still naked.
“Clothes,” she barked at him this time, and he widened his eyes in surprise. “If I’m not allowed to be naked, you aren’t either.”
Ryland rolled his eyes. “It’s not like Greer is gay.”
“Clothes.” It was the principal of the thing.
He reached into the laundry room and grabbed a pair of clean sweats folded atop the dryer and tugged them on. “Happy now?”
“I’m fucking ecstatic. I’d be deliriously happy if you’d open the fucking door.” Greer’s booming snarl cut through the annoyance in the air and Hannah sighed.
At least their tiny argument had distracted her a little while. Taking a deep bracing breath, she returned to the door. It took no time to turn the knob and allow the panel to swing wide to reveal an angry, bed-headed shifter.
“What the hell?” That snarl remained in place, only to be joined by Ryland’s.
“Don’t talk to her that way.”
She glanced at her mate and sucked in a quick breath when silver fur emerged to coat his arms. So not good. She moved so her body remained between the two males. With the scent of Jeremy’s blood still coating his body and adrenaline gradually fleeing him, she had no doubt he was still very much on edge.
“Hey.” She reached for Ryland, fingers skating over his chest. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
Yellow eyes met hers, the hues transitioning from wolf to lion and back again. “He shouldn’t…”
She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m fine. You’re fine. Take a deep breath.”
Ryland jerked his head in a short nod and she gave him an extra few moments to get himself under control. When he looked like he wasn’t ready to kill the world any longer, she turned to face Greer. She retained the connection to her mate, her back to his front, but focused on the other male.
“Greer.” She pasted a fake smile on her lips. “What brings you here?”
He quirked a brow. “Really? That’s your angle?”
A girl had to try to lighten the mood, didn’t she? “The thing about it is…”
Strong, warm hands came to rest on her shoulders and Ryland pulled her back until their bodies were flush. A gentle squeeze was the only hint of affection, and then her mate released her. He stepped in front of her, blocking her view entirely.
“I acted alone.” Only because she’d let him, dammit.
“But he—“
“She didn’t touch him.”
“Ryland,” she growled. “He—“
“He died beneath my claw. Hannah wasn’t involved.”
There was protecting and then there was being an idiot. “He started it!”
Ha! She got the words out anyway. So there.
The porch groaned and she peeked around her mate. Greer braced
his legs, shoulder-width apart, and crossed his arms over his chest, a look of pure menace and intimidation filling his expression.
Did he really think to cow them into submission with that blustering face? He had nothing on her father and she’d spent decades under that man’s roof. “How about someone tell me who he is and how he ended up dead.”
Hannah hated to make light of the situation. A man died tonight, fallen beneath her mate’s claws, but she couldn’t help but be happy at being alive. And she refused to let Ryland dwell on Jeremy’s death.
“It’s all my father’s fault. Really. You should drive on over to Buchanan lands and arrest him instead of Ryland. Oh!” She pasted on the fakest smile known to man but didn’t care if Greer saw through it. “You should arrest our attorney, too. He drew up the paperwork. And the notary—who’s also his secretary, but still. Her too.” Her heart hammered, pounding a mile a minute, and she was sure it’d blow right out of her chest at any moment. “And Jeremy’s father because he was in favor of the match as well.”
“Hannah,” Ryland murmured, his serious stare colliding with her own. “It’s fine.”
She shook her head and refused to acknowledge that tears stung her eyes. Emotion clogged her throat, stealing her voice, and she swallowed past the large lump that’d formed.
“Yes, it is.” And to add a cherry to the morning, that was when her father strolled up.
15
Hannah’s father nearly glared a hole through Ryland when she’d announced their need for a shower. He’d grumbled as he took each stomping step up the stairs. And he’d snarled when Ryland even hinted at joining her. If she wasn’t thankful for his presence, she’d be annoyed. But she was, so she tolerated her overbearing daddy.
And sneaked a kiss when he wasn’t looking.
Now, fresh, clean, and coffee-d, they were ready to talk. Her father sat at the head of the oval shaped table, her mother and Katie to his right and Hannah on his left. Ryland took up the space between Hannah and Greer while giving the other male threatening glares. As if she’d leave him for a chopped liver guy like Greer.
The heavy thud of a vehicle door slamming shut announced that the coroner was done—Jeremy’s body was to be taken from the scene and spirited away to his family.
“Now,” Greer’s voice was a quiet drawl. “Would someone care to tell me what’s going on?”
Not particularly.
No one spoke, so Hannah figured she’d have to be the one to start. Unfortunately, (thankfully) her twin sister had other ideas. “The thing about it is…”
Greer groaned and dropped his head forward.
“I did that already. He doesn’t appreciate our humor,” Hannah leaned forward and murmured to Katie.
“Is his funny bone broken?”
“No,” Greer broke in. “My give a damn is broken. Now tell me what’s going on here.” The male glared at her father. Oh, that wasn’t a good idea. “Buchanan, every time your family comes here, someone dies. I’m starting to not like you.”
Her father grunted with a half-snort that she easily translated. And?
“What Angus means is—” There went her mother, ever the peacemaker. And Dad translator. Though in all honestly, her mom tended to flower things up more than a little bit. “We can understand your frustration due to the difficulties related to the Buchanan clan.”
Another grunt. The fuck I do.
Though she hadn’t ever heard him curse, that’s what she imagined.
“And we appreciate your understanding in this.”
Understand twice in two sentences. She must really want him to understand something. Heh.
Her dad grunted. Understand my ass. Do as you’re told.
“In this instance, there seems to have been a slight bit of hostility between the Lachlan clan and our own.” Her mother pasted on a smile then, flashing her pearly whites.
“Slight bit of hostility?”
Dad snorted. Boy, one body is hardly anything to sneeze at. I wouldn’t wipe my ass for one dead Lachlan.
“Well.” Hannah’s mother nibbled her lip. “The Buchanans and Lachlans have had some passionate—“ Bloody.”—meetings over the years. Hannah mating Jeremy was supposed to put an end to the difficulties.” Her mother was the one woman in the world who would turn a centuries-old feud into a difficulty. “Unfortunately for the clans—but fortunate for our sweet girl—“ Ryland snorted at that and Hannah glared at him. Hell, even her parents and Katie glared at her mate. “Hannah found her mate and someone—“ the glares turned to Katie “—wasn’t the kindest in notifying Jeremy and the Lachlans about the change in circumstances.”
“So the scorned ex came up here to reclaim Hannah?”
Ryland growled and she reached for him, resting her hand on his knee and giving him a gentle squeeze.
“The Lachlans are a proud—volatile—group,” Fiona continued.
“If you call crazy volatile.” Katie snorted.
“Which is why antagonizing them was a mistake,” her mother snapped at her twin.
Daddy scoffed and… Hannah almost gasped… spoke. “Lachlans have more pride than sense. Katie or no Katie. The boy woulda been here making my daughter a widow so he could claim her as his own. Here or our lands, he woulda done the same.”
“And how did you all know to hightail it up here?” Greer raised his eyebrows.
Fiona flashed Hannah a mix between a glare and a smile. She was happily angry? “After Katie spoke with Jeremy, she also came and told us the good news. We packed up everything and came over.” Her mom frowned. “Your father broke every speed limit when we found out Jeremy was on his way. We didn’t want your new mate dy—“
Hannah tightened her grip on Ryland’s leg. Trying to keep him silent and still instead of roaring his objection to her mother’s words.
Her father’s huff silenced her mom. Thank God. “She wouldn’t mate a weak boy. Took out the Lachlans’ son, he did.” He pulled his gaze from Greer and let it rest on Ryland. “You’ll take care of my girl. Make a good leader, too.”
Everyone in the room froze, and then as a group, their eyes landed on Angus.
Ryland was the first to find his voice. “Leader?”
Her recently talkative father grunted and quirked a brow at Hannah. Of course. And then. You really want this one? Not too bright.
Hannah reached for Ryland’s hand and connected the dots her father had already tied together. “You killed the son of the Lachlan leader and he’s got no other family,” she whispered and turned her gaze to Ryland. “You killed the heir. Unless someone in the clan challenges you, you’ll inherit the clan when the Lachlan leader dies.”
“But…” Ryland’s eyes went wide and a slight tremble overtook him. She could practically read his mind as the emotions glided across his face. Fear was first. Unease. Worry. And… hope. “I’m a…”
“Lion.” She finished for him, refusing to hear him say anything else.
“Hybrid.” Apparently he didn’t realize he was supposed to be quiet. His attention shot to her father. “I’m a lion and wolf.”
Her father just shrugged. “You look like a lion?”
“Yes,” Ryland immediately responded.
“Then a cat is a cat.” Angus Buchanan—the Buchanan—leaned forward and knocked his knuckles on the table. “Done here.”
Greer. “Look, Buchanan, you can’t just—“
A rolling growl vibrated the air and Hannah relaxed. She leaned against Ryland and snuggled into his side. They were down to the pissing contest portion of an argument, which meant things were just about done. She wasn’t sure why Greer argued. Her father would win anyway.
Greer snapped his teeth together and took a slow, deep breath. “Shifters have laws, Buchanan. We can’t—“
“He’s the heir.” Daddy looked to Ryland. “You think the fight was justified?”
“Yes.”
Daddy focused on Greer once more. “There, the heir says it was justified. So it was. Just par
doned himself.”
He stood and rolled his shoulders then took a deep breath. His shoulders broadened with the movements, and she was reminded why Angus Buchanan was the Buchanan. Even with salt and pepper hair, he was a bad ass, scary as hell lion.
Also, her bad ass, scary as hell daddy.
“I don’t like it.”
“Don’t gotta like it. Just gotta follow them rules.”
“But doesn’t the law leave an heir open to assassination attempts?”
Hannah always had that question herself. And always got the same answer from her daddy.
“The idiot was weak enough to get killed. He didn’t deserve to live.” Angus pointed at Ryland and snapped his fingers. “You, boy, we got some talking to do and you got a question you need to ask me.”
Dear God, it was the most she’d heard her father talk in forever. Then the words finished filtering through her mind and she knew exactly what question her father referenced.
Hannah jumped to her feet and propped her hands on her hips. “Daddy, it’s not the eighteen hundreds. We’re in the two thousands. He does not have to ask you for my hand. We’re mates. Whether you like it or not, we’re mating.”
A low growl vibrated the air, her father’s eyes narrowing and flashing gold. Ha! It was all bluster. He wouldn’t—
She squawked when she suddenly found herself spun, lifted and then placed behind Ryland. Her mate crossed his arms over his chest and his growl countered her father’s.
“You’re not gonna growl at her.”
“I’m her father.”
“I’m her mate.”
Oh, this wasn’t gonna end well at all. The growls continued, as did the stare down, and Hannah held her breath through it all. Cats could clash like this for hours, and she prayed they wouldn’t be standing there that long.