The Enforcer's Destined Mate

by T. Cobbin

  Stepping outside, the breath she had been holding blasted from her lungs. Both of her parents were in the garden in their tiger forms. Each of them asleep and curled up to each other, they didn’t even move or stir. A strange scent filled the air. She knew that aroma. Shaking her head, she decided to ignore it.

  A small tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. She could automatically tell which tiger belonged to her mother. The poor thing looked emaciated and fragile. Its fur that had been so fine and luxurious was now tatty and even missing in places. She now knew just how ill it was.

  Belle quickly turned, pushing Shawn back into the house. He tried to push back at her, a question on his lips, but she placed her finger on his lips, not letting him speak. She didn’t want to intrude on her parents. It seemed like a private moment between them. Almost like they were saying goodbye to each other? No, she didn’t want to think that now.

  She walked back into the kitchen and turned the radio on, which was a way to let her parents know she was there when they woke. She pottered around the kitchen, and decided to make a pan of soup. She clattered the cutlery and banged the pots, basically making a lot of noise.

  She paused, a laugh escaping. It wasn’t a normal, happy laugh; it was one very close to the hysteria she felt inside her. She’d just pushed Shawn into the house with her finger on his lips, telling him to be quiet, and yet there she was making as much noise as possible. What a screwed up situation.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Shawn looking at her. He didn’t say anything though, just watched her. Sam Smith’s Lay Me Down came on the radio. The carrot she’d been peeling blurred as big, fat tears began falling from her eyes. Images of her parents’ beasts curled up next to each other replayed in her mind, and she could see the love between them.

  Even with her mother’s tiger being so sick and no longer looking good, her father’s beast accepted it like it was nothing. Her parents had never married in the human way. They had merely met, mated, and her mother had changed her name. As far as they were concerned, they were married, shifter style. It meant more to them than a piece of paper saying they belonged to each other. They didn’t need that; they knew it in their hearts and souls, and of course, their mating scars. In fact, a lot of the elder shifters in the community shared that feeling. Belle wondered what Shawn would want to do.

  Arms slipped around her waist, and the warm body of her mate settled behind her. Shawn’s heat felt good against her, and she needed the comfort at the moment. He lay his head on her shoulder.

  “They have a deep love for each other. They were always touching, or if one walked into the room he or she would seek the other out. They couldn’t be apart for long. I’m afraid my father will die along with my mother.” She hiccupped. “No.” She shook her head. “I know he will.” She paused, dread filling her, and she knew what she had to do. “We have to go check on them, don’t we?”

  She felt Shawn nod. When shifters died in their animal forms, they didn’t shift back. She had kind of known in her heart what to expect when she’d walked into the garden. Being shifters, their hearing was way better than a human, and she’d walked into her parents’ house and not disturbed them. It wasn’t right. What had confirmed her fears was the fact she’d been pottering around in the kitchen and had music on and they still hadn’t come in. The scent in the air outside had been death. She’d smelled it before.

  “I don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered through racking sobs.

  “I’m here, right beside you. I’ll even go out there for you if you want.”

  For a second she wanted to accept his offer. But she knew if she didn’t do this, it would forever play on her mind. “No, I need to do this. But I would appreciate it if you came with me.”

  Shawn moved from her back and stood beside her, holding his hand out. She placed the carrot and the knife she’d been holding on the chopping board and took his hand. Together they walked to the garden.

  Neither tiger had moved, and deep down she knew they weren’t going to. She gulped down a breath, tears falling freely. It felt hard to breathe. Taking a few more steps, she kept her eyes on the beasts’ chests, searching for any breathing movements. Nothing. She was close enough now to touch them. The same scent from before hit her nose—death.

  “Mom. Pop?” she squeezed out, knowing full well they weren’t going to answer, and they didn’t.

  She fell to her knees and ran a hand over each of the beast’s fur. They were still warm, but she knew now for certain, these were just empty shells her parents had used. They’d chosen to die together in their animal form.

  Had they known? Why didn’t they phone her? What could she have done if they had? So many questions ran through her mind. One second she was angry for them leaving her behind, the next she felt like her heart would stop from grief.

  She threw back her head and howled into the air. She hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. She didn’t let them know just how much they meant to her. How much she loved them. Her cat cried with her. Deep inside she howled along with Belle.

  She didn’t know how long she knelt with her parents, or how long she cried pain-filled tears. At some point she recognized the voices of Harris and Felix and a few others. When Shawn had tried to pick her up, she’d screamed at him, fighting to stay with her parents. She wanted them to know how much she loved them.

  She smelled Ben when he came close to her, but she didn’t care. Even when the prick to her upper arm made her feel drowsy she still didn’t care. Too much pain. Too much grief. When Shawn picked her up again, she didn’t have the strength to fight back. Her heart was breaking. She gave in to the sleep calling to her, curling up against Shawn’s heated chest, and cried until she couldn’t cry any longer.

  Chapter 20

  A week later

  It was Saturday morning and Shawn had had enough. Belle had ignored him all week. She’d still been in shock, so Shawn had made arrangements with Harris for her parents’ wake and funeral. The Grants had been laid to rest in the same white casket, which wasn’t an unusual request for the village. The undertaker had explained that a lot of the mated pairs who were elderly often died together. They had spent so long together that even death didn’t keep them apart.

  After the wake, Shawn had taken Belle home where she’d fallen into a fitful sleep. The next morning when she awoke she decided it was time to go back to work. Shawn had tried to argue with her, telling her it was too soon, but Belle just ignored him and walked out the door.

  That night when she had returned home, she’d refused to eat the meal he’d made, and she’d taken a shower then gone straight to bed. He kept asking himself what he’d done. What was she punishing him for? How the hell was he going to get back on her good side?

  Over the week the same questions ran through him on an hourly basis, and it was making him ill. He’d even resorted to asking Ben and his Alpha for advice. Both of them had said to give her time, be patient.

  It was Harris who informed him that the Grants had left their house to Belle and her mate. They wanted her to live a happy life where she grew up. They also wished that she fill it with many kits like they had hoped they’d be able to do. But yet again when Shawn had tried to talk to her she ignored him.

  Shawn actually wanted her to shout at him, scream even. The silent treatment was worse than whatever Rosie had put him through. It was frustrating as hell. Even his cat was feeling it; it had apologized so many times to Shawn for leaving him when he’d been in trouble.

  I always talk now. No more silence. It hurts.

  They were all hurting, and Shawn had finally had enough. With permission from both Harris and Felix they’d decided to get some kind of reaction from her. During the morning’s training, Felix had pushed Belle beyond her limits, hoping she would drop. She didn’t. Each time she fell or was taken down by him or another enforcer, she got up and went back for more. In the afternoon Harris read her the riot act. Told her it was time to snap out of this whatever s
he was in. She had to face the fact that her parents were no longer around. He’d asked her if this was how her parents would want her to be. He also tried to drum in that Shawn, her mate, needed her. Her silence was killing him. But she just remained silent. Harris sent her home and told her if she didn’t buck up, she wouldn’t be making beta while Felix was away. Afterward he’d told Shawn everything he’d said and what had gone on during the day, then said it was up to him and he’d have his full backing for the plan Shawn had come up with.

  During the day he’d boxed up all their belongings and moved them to their new house; he hoped he would get some reaction from that. And he planned to make sure that by the end of the night he had her screaming, shouting, or crying a few tears; anything just to let out the anger and tears that she’d bottled up. He wanted Belle back. The mate he’d met who had helped him heal, the mate he wanted to grow old with. This one, who was being a total stubborn bitch and bringing a lot of bad memories back, wasn’t her.

  As Shawn returned to his now old flat, he heard footsteps coming up the path behind him, so he ducked behind a lush bush with purple flowers. He could tell each step she made and knew which one it was, being her right trainer let the water in and it squelched slightly when it was wet. Right foot, left. Right foot, left. Then silence.

  He couldn’t see her from where he was hiding, but he caught her scent as the wind drifted toward him. He heard a snort, then the key being inserted into the lock. Did she know he was there? Could she scent him? He’d made sure he wasn’t downwind.

  He heard the click and whirl of the lock and the front door opening. He could see her now. She had paused at the threshold. She lifted her head and sniffed the air, then tilted her head as if trying to hear something. She was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He could see her bra strap through her top, and her butt looked mighty fine in her jeans. Her hair, which was normally spiked on top of her head, lay limp. She hadn’t been taking care of it, or herself, this week.

  “Shawn?” she called out, flicking the light switch in the hallway on and off.

  He’d turned the electricity off, another point made as far as he was concerned. This was no longer home. She walked into the dim sitting room, looking around. He moved closer.

  Now? his cat asked.

  No, buddy. Patience.

  “Shawn? I know you’re here somewhere. Where’s our stuff?” He watched her dart into the bedroom and come back out, and he could scent her annoyance. “Shawn,” she shouted.

  Now, my friend, he urged his cat.

  His feline stepped into the doorway and sat down. Belle’s head swung around to look at him.

  “You’re playing games? Now? For fuck’s sake, Shawn. I’m tired. I’ve had a shit day. For some reason everyone saw fit to make it long and miserable. Now you?” She stomped her foot and growled low.

  Shawn’s cat remained where it was, and Shawn didn’t say a word to her mentally either.

  “Fine, you want to be like that, I’ll just sleep on the bed as it is.” She turned and walked back into the bedroom.

  His cat stood and dived into the room after her. She was just about to throw herself on the bed when he lunged and got there first. He dug his claws into the mattress and shredded it. The material fell apart in pieces, the foam underneath it gathering in a pile for a second, and then it drifted apart, revealing the coiled springs. Shawn could feel such satisfaction from his cat as he ran his claws through the material.

  Oh shit, really? he asked his beast.

  She no sleep on it now. You pay Alpha.

  Thanks. He snorted.

  “Oh my God, you didn’t just do that.” Belle pointed at the bed, a slight red tinge to her cheeks. She was finally showing some kind of emotion. “Fine, you want to play that fucking game, so be it.”

  She turned and headed to the living area. Plopping down on the settee, she curled up into a ball, facing the back of it. Nope, that isn’t going to happen either, he thought.

  Shred the settee too? Shawn’s tiger suggested.

  I like your thinking.

  His cat chuffed, loving the fact he was given permission to pull his claws through something else. With pleasure, it sank its claws into the back of the loveseat and shredded the brown leather. The sound of ripping and tearing filled the room. He moved around the side and repeated the action, making sure he hit the wood underneath enough to make scraping noises. Belle tossed and grumbled, but otherwise didn’t react.

  He moved around again until he came to the cushions underneath her body. Clamping his mouth around the foamy material, he pulled and tugged. His cat moved its head from side to side, until he managed to pull it from underneath her. Foam split from the broken seams and started scattering onto the floor.

  Belle quickly stood, hand on her hips. “You’re joking, right? Fucking men. Fine! I’ll just ask Felix if I can stay at his place.”

  Shawn already knew what Felix’s answer would be, because they’d spoken earlier. He waited, staring intently while Belle spoke to Felix mentally. He could tell the moment the man must have told her no because the frown in the middle of her forehead deepened. She turned her attention back to Shawn.

  “Why? Why are you doing this? Why have you all been ganging up on me today?” She seemed to deflate for a few seconds. “I know what you’re doing, I’m not stupid!” she screamed. “Tell me why.”

  Shawn just sat back on his haunches and stared at her.

  Belle screamed again, a chest-heaving, top-of-her-lungs holler. It would seem Belle hated the silence as much as he did. “You want me to scream? If I treat you the way that fucking ex of yours did, will that get a reaction? Is that it?”

  She picked up one of the shredded cushions and threw it at him. It missed him by inches. Oh, he was getting a reaction now. He felt both satisfied and guilty at the same time.

  She needs this, his cat reminded him.

  “Come on,” she said with a long sigh. “I have had one shit day. It tops off one fucker of a week. Why are you doing this? Want me to talk? Well, screw you!”

  She grabbed the other cushion and threw it at him. This one bounced off his head. His feline chuffed and still sat in the same spot.

  “Don’t just sit there,” she yelled. The scent of her emotions now rolled off her. White hot anger.

  She looked around for something else. A few ornaments sat on the fireplace, and Belle walked toward them, gathered them up, then propelled them one by one at Shawn’s beast. This time his tiger reacted. He stood up, walked calmly to the front door, and outside. Shawn hoped their gamble would pay off and Belle would follow him.

  He was actually pleased with himself. Not only had he instigated this fight, but when Rosie started, he tried to placard her in any way, shape, or form, which normally meant he kept his head low, his mouth shut, and curled up into a ball when the feet or fists came out to play.

  “You can’t just walk away now. Talk to me. Tell me why you’ve done this. Tell me where my stuff is.” She screamed again at the top of her lungs. “Shawn!”

  With his hearing so in tune with his surroundings, he heard the slight tearing of material.

  Finally! Mate is coming. His tiger took off at a fast run, knowing full well his tigress was following him.

  Shawn’s cat ran the length of the village, running between buildings and around them. It took all his energy to keep a fair distance between them. Occasionally, when he thought she’d lost him, he would rub against something, leaving his scent behind. At some points he swore Belle’s beast had caught up to him, and his cat stiffened, waiting for the pounding he would take if she landed on him. It never came. Was he sure she was still following? Yes, he knew she was. Belle was a very curious person, if she didn’t follow him and find out what he was up to, it would forever bug her.

  “Shawn, you fuckwad. Stop running and face me. Why have you done this? What the hell is going on?” She ranted away in his mind, a curse word inserted every few words.

  He ran for near an hou
r until finally her ranting began to get slower and he knew she and her feline were getting tired. It was time to end this misery both she and he were suffering. He came to her parents’ place and crept inside the back door, which he’d left open earlier. Reluctantly, his cat withdrew, he wanted to make sure his mate was more than tired. Shawn had to promise as soon as Belle was ready, he would let him out so he could sate his mate. Randy bastard.

  Seeing the pair of jeans he’d left over a chair, he picked them up and quickly dressed, while keeping his eyes on the door. He caught the whiff of her scent before he saw the beautiful lavender eyes belonging to her tiger.

  Chapter 21

  Belle’s cat sat on the back door step of her parents’ house and held her head up.

  “Shift and come talk to me,” Shawn said gently.

  The cat didn’t move.

  He stepped forward, hoping she’d decided not to pounce on him. Claws and bare skin didn’t go together. “Shift, Belle,” he ordered.

  Still the feline didn’t move.

  He knelt down and sat just on the door’s threshold opposite her. Raising a hand, he carefully moved it toward her. She flicked her ears, but let him touch the fur behind her them. He stroked her until he felt her muscles relax slightly. A gentle purring could even be heard.

  “I know how you’re feeling,” he said. “You know about my parents. I was so numb for ages I didn’t want to talk, or to face anyone. I didn’t want to believe they were gone. I remember looking at their caskets and thinking they couldn’t be in there. I didn’t get to see their bodies, I just saw the two boxes. As silly as it sounds, in my mind, I thought they’d made the story up because they didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

  He wrapped his arms around his knees, never taking his eyes off the cat in front of him.

  “It hurts so bad it feels like someone has stabbed you in the chest, and no matter what, you can’t find the knife to stop it from twisting.” A lump in his throat made it hard for him to swallow. “You have to let it out, babe, or it will hurt more. You are hurting yourself. Do you think your parents would want this?”