by Marie Harte
“Joy, can you get off me now?”
“Oh, sorry.” She stepped off Miles and moved back to Quince. Danville had his hand on Quince’s neck and his eyes closed. “Is he okay?”
“He’s in pretty bad shape.” Danville opened his eyes, then smiled. “But he’s a fighter and he’s newly mated. He’ll survive.” He turned to Miles. “Well, pride leader? What do we do with them?” Danville nodded at Ayers’s group.
“Wait. What?” Miles blinked at the judge.
“Good thinking.” Danville nodded and said over his shoulder, “Nettles, secure Everton. He colluded with Ayers to cheat. Jace and the rest of you, handle these idiots.” He pointed to the group Willow watched over. “Put them in the cells underground.” The judgment cells located under the House, where offending felines went while waiting judgment. It had been a long time since Michael had imprisoned anyone. But she supposed the time had come to totally clean house, so to speak.
“Well, young lady. Do you want to explain things or should I?” Danville asked her, his voice gentle.
“I…” She looked down at Quince and had to work not to cry. He looked so still, so vulnerable lying there. “Could you, please? I have to see to my mate.”
A rush of voices and the scent of more cats poured through the woods. She leaned down to lick Quince’s injured face, remembering it wasn’t so long ago that she’d done the same in Cougar Falls. Then she sat by his side and waited for Doctor Hicks to reach them.
Miles stared in confusion at the chaos around them and shifted back to human. “What the hell is going on?”
From Quince’s provoking note and that fight, to Greg Ayers lying dead in cat form, to the battle he’d stumbled over tonight, nothing made sense. What were three judges doing presiding over this mess, and in the challenge ring no less? And why was his sister licking that bastard like he belonged to her? Fuck, that scent. They’d mated. Yet Joy looked proud to be by Quince’s side. And Jace, Ellis, Rain… They’d all been loyal to Michael and remained protective of Quince, keeping a watchful eye over him and Joy.
“Well, son. It’s like this,” Alan Danville, one of the most respected members in the pride—and with Michael gone—probably the most respected, answered. “You beat Quince in a Pride Fight. That makes you pride leader. Did you or did you not win? You’re standing. He’s not, correct?”
“I, well, yes. But I didn’t know it was a Pride Fight.” Those antiquated battles for supremacy still happened? “And now that I think about it, something wasn’t right with Castille. It wasn’t a fair—”
“Nonsense. You won. I witnessed it. So did Nettles. Ignore Everton.” In a lower voice, he whispered to Miles, “Everton overlooked Ayers’s cheating. My guess is Ayers drugged Quince somehow, because the boy doesn’t smell right. And he didn’t fight at top speed either. A little sloppy, if you asked me.”
“Huh?”
In a louder voice, Danville continued, “You see, Ayers has been pushing to take over where Lex left off. Quince, naturally, wasn’t having any of it. So he asked me to settle the score by watching over a Pride Fight. An old tradition we rarely use anymore. Mostly we vote as a council, of course. But our council’s been pretty messed up since Michael died, I’m sorry to say.” Danville sighed, then smiled. “But hey, we’re good now, aren’t we Miles?”
“Good?” As reason returned, he started to make sense of it all. And he realized Quince had never been or done all those bad things of which he’d been accused.
He glanced at the group of Ayers’s supporters moving past him. Alissa scowled at Joy as if she wanted nothing more than to wipe her off the face of the planet.
“You lied to me,” he said softly to Alissa, but she heard him because she looked his way.
Alissa smiled through her teeth. “Hey, Miles. Welcome home.”
He glanced back at his sister, who kept a paw on Quince’s torso, protecting what she obviously considered hers.
“See? She’s standing where her loyalties have always been—with the enemy.” Joy sniffed. “You owe me and Quince a big apology. Oh, and I want my bracelet back. I gave it to Quince. It’s his.”
“Nice looking couple, aren’t they?” Ellis asked as he joined Danville and Miles. “I’m thinking we’ll be back to three lieutenants again. And boy, am I glad about that. So Miles, we’re going to take the guilty into the cells. Dana and Willow are drafting a notice to all the pride. We need a meeting, big time. But I think we should hold it in the House once Quince is on his feet. You need him and us for solidarity, but I don’t see anyone protesting your appointment.” He glanced at Danville. “That sound about right, sir?”
“Yes, yes.” Danville waved him away. “I’ll pass the word to the other judging council so we can at least tell everyone that there’s been an official change. ’Course, the others will spread the rumor.” More cats filled the area, everyone talking at once. “And boy,” he said to Miles. “You’re going to have to move into the estate. With Jace, Ellis and Quince working for you, you’ll have the pride whipped into shape in no time.” He slapped Miles on the back. “Now I’d best be going. Talk to you tomorrow at two in the conference room. Don’t be late.”
Miles watched, dumbfounded, as Danville walked away whistling. The field was abuzz with cats and people staring at him, nodding and smiling. Ellis and the others rounded up Ayers’s group, dragged the dead away and tended the wounded.
A few cats had gathered around Quince and carried him back to the House while Joy trotted by his side. Miles changed back into his cat form and hustled after her, full of questions needing answers.
Quince had told Miles to meet him here, knowing he’d be involved in a Pride Fight. Was Miles there to defend Joy in case things had gone sour? Then why had Quince egged Miles on with all that smack talk about Joy?
Had Miles actually inadvertently become pride leader? The others acted like he had, but it made no sense. He followed Joy into the House, scenting Quince’s blood and that odd taint that didn’t belong on him. A poison or sedative of some kind.
Miles felt guilty for having smacked around the half-conscious asshole, even though Quince had asked for it. For so long he’d thought Quince guilty of awful crimes, only to find out it had been a lie.
Yet, would his sister, the smartest of them all, if truth be told, really stay with a male who raped and killed to rule? No way in hell. Joy had a temper and a definite idea about right and wrong. Like the rest of his sisters, she wanted to be treated with dignity and respect. And love.
He wondered about the bracelet Quince had left with that letter. The bracelet was old. He remembered Joy trying to foist one on him years ago, before he’d tossed his in the trash. But Quince had his still. What did that mean?
He followed his sister and Quince into the room that Michael had used. Now it belonged to Quince, the pride leader. Past pride leader, according to Danville. Shit.
“Joy?” She sat in the corner, still as a statue, watching the doctor and two assistants cleaning Quince’s wounds.
He remained a large black cat, but his chest rose and fell evenly.
“He’ll be fine, Joy,” Doctor Hicks assured her. “A lot of bloody cuts, but they’re pretty superficial. Well, except for the one on his abdomen.” The one Miles had made. “I’ll stitch him up. He’ll need a few days to rest.”
“And that drug in his system?” she asked, sounding nervous.
Miles moved to sit next to her, not saying anything. Just for support.
“Myron?” Doc asked his assistant. “Smell like Forissol to you?”
Myron nodded. “I tasted a bit of his blood. Yeah. Forissol. Crappy-ass Hunter sedative. He’ll be out for a good twelve hours, but it’ll slow his system enough to heal better, actually.”
“Okay.” Joy sounded relieved.
“You stay with him,” the doctor ordered her. “He’ll be out of it for a while. I’ll be here tending the others. Myron’s going to hang around for the next few days to check on him. I’d stay, but I’
m needed for Annabeth. She’s due to give birth any day now.”
“I know.” Joy nodded. “Thanks, Doc, and tell Annabeth I’ll be seeing her soon.”
“I will. Anytime you need help, just ask.” Doc Hicks glanced at Miles and nodded. “Pride leader.” Then he left with Myron close behind and shut the door after him.
Joy walked to Quince’s side and put her head next to his. She licked his nose, then rubbed her cheek against him, moving slowly and gently.
The obvious love between them humbled Miles, and he lowered to his haunches to sit and wait without speaking. His questions could hold. While Joy looked over her mate, he’d look after her.
That’s what big brothers were for.
Chapter Ten
Five days later, Quince sat up in his bed in his own bedroom, tired of lazing around—which was saying something for a cat—and swore at Miles, glad Joy wasn’t around to hear him. “Look, shithead, I accept your apology. You’re on my last fucking nerve. Get over it already. I have.”
Miles sighed. His humility had been fun the first two days, but Quince couldn’t handle it any more. He wanted the arrogant, annoying, fun-loving Miles back. The guy he used to be able to pal around with. Not this sap.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I just hate that I believed something like that about my best friend.”
Best friend. Inside, Quince was overjoyed. God, he’s missed Miles more than he’d thought. “Yeah, well, I’ll guilt you about that for years. But you’ve played out the ‘I’m sorry’ card. Get lost so I can bang your sister when she gets back, would you?”
Miles stared down at him, still with the sad eyes, then socked him in the gut, right above where the bastard had left his mark days ago.
“Ow!”
“Watch your mouth,” Miles growled. “She might be your mate, but she’s my little sister. You treat her right or I’ll reopen that cut and strangle you by your intestines.”
Finally. The real Miles Bermin had returned. “Yeah, yeah. You know, Dean Chastell gave me the exact same warning not too long ago.” Miles’s scowl delighted him. “Come on, bro. Joy is hot. And she’s finally mine.” He wiggled his brows.
“I can’t believe you’ve had that scraggly thing for so long.” He glanced at the frayed string bracelet beaded around Quince’s left wrist. “Just don’t tell anyone it’s a Bermin design. That’s embarrassing.”
“Okay, Nancy.” He flipped Miles a finger and chuckled. “Now remember, you can’t over-task my fiancée.” He and Joy were going to make it super official. Mated and married in another six months. He didn’t care what she wanted, as long as she loved him. “Between her job as liaison and working with that new bathing suit crap for your lady line of clothes, she’s barely taking care of me like she should.”
“Please.” Miles snorted and sat across from him in a leather reading chair. “She’s been by your side for the past week. I’ve never seen her coddle anyone the way she’s been taking care of you. It’s a little sickening.”
“Yeah.” His smile left him. Sickening sweet. The woman wouldn’t respond to his more amorous overtures either. “I’ve shifted a few times, even hunted a wild boar. But she just won’t believe I’m totally recovered yet. Who knew she had that mother hen instinct?”
“She’ll be a good mom.” Miles smiled wryly. “You as a dad… yeah. Between your protective instincts and her mothering, your kids are set.”
Quite a compliment.
“And of course, with me as his or her uncle, the child will be blessed beyond anything.”
“Of course,” Quince said wryly, knowing Miles meant it.
“So onto more important things…”
“Meaning you.”
“Meaning me,” Miles agreed. “How the hell do I get out of being pride leader? You were doing such a great job.”
“No. I stepped in because Michael asked me to, but I never wanted the position. I’m perfectly content being your lieutenant.”
Miles cringed. “Danville keeps arranging meetings. I’m having to talk to lions in France, Burke in Montana and some assholes in San Francisco. They want a big pow-wow next summer. Hell, I have businesses to take care of. They don’t run themselves.”
“Too bad.” No way in hell would Quince ever go back to being in charge. “Hire more employees. The pride needs you. Trust me. I tried to find someone suitable months ago. There is no one better suited to run things. You’re not on a power trip, you don’t need money and you won’t let the fuckheads in the pride ruin the good thing we have going. Everyone’s happy again. Did you see everyone at the House the other night?
“All that hunting and purring and laughter? This is the way life is supposed to be.” Quince smiled.
“Alissa didn’t look too happy.”
“She won’t be unless you decide to mate her. Woman wants power.” At Miles’s disgust, Quince chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Ellis and I will keep an eye on her. You need to figure out how to manage things without me next week, though. Joy and I are taking some alone time.”
“She didn’t mention it to me.”
“Mention what?” Joy asked as she entered the room. Dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a bright red tee-shirt, her hair wild and her eyes bright, she looked absolutely beautiful to him.
“Our vacation, baby. We need time alone.”
“Oh. Okay.” She smiled and punched her brother in the arm. “How’s it going, pride leader?”
Miles groaned. “You keep telling me I owe you, but you owe me. Not nice to trick your wonderful brother into the position from hell.”
She laughed.
“Speaking of the position from hell…” Quince patted the bed next to him and said in a deep voice, “Come here, Joy.”
Miles grimaced. “I have work to do. Somewhere far, far away.” He walked to the door, then stopped and turned to smile at his sister. “Happiness looks good on you, Joy.”
“That’s because I’m great,” she said.
“And a true Bermin.” Quince snorted. “It’s like the whole family was born with giant-sized egos.”
“That’s about right.” Miles’s smile deepened. “It’s good to have you back, Quince.”
“Yeah, you too, bud.” Quince watched him leave and close the door behind him.
Without pause, he hurried from the bed, locked the door and stripped out of his clothes. Joy’s gaze went immediately to his lower abdomen, where the scar had nearly faded. He’d always been a fast healer, but apparently that Forissol crap wasn’t just a sedative, it had healing properties. Doc Hicks was going nuts trying to figure out how to manufacture the stuff without the sedative part.
“Quince?” Joy had that sly look on her face that he loved.
“Strip. Now, woman.”
“Make me.” She fingered the bottom of her tee-shirt, and he pounced.
Between laughter and breathless sighs, he had her naked and under him in seconds. And then he slid inside her wet heat. Home. Where he belonged.
“I’m yours,” she pledged and kissed him.
He kissed her back, sliding his tongue in time with his cock, plunging into the woman he couldn’t do without. It had taken persistence, patience and a lot of grunt work to get in her good graces. But damn, it had been worth every hardship.
He pulled out of her and kissed his way down her body, not wanting to end things too soon. “I’ve been out of my mind wanting you,” he said between kisses.
She moaned. “Me too. Oh God, that feels so good…” He kissed past her mound and lingered over her clit, licking up the sweetness pooling there for him. He angled a finger inside her and grazed the spot that set her off. Then he sucked her clit into his mouth and gently teethed her.
Joy lit up like a firecracker and cried out as she came. Loving how her cat purred and rubbed against his, he felt that indescribable urge to join fully with her again.
“Oh yeah, that’s it,” he said on a breath and glided back up her body and into her. He thrust in and out with del
iberate slowness, then ceased moving, embedded deep inside her. “How about something different?” he whispered and rotated his pelvis, hitting her hot spots.
She arched into him. “Yes. More. Fuck, you’re good.”
He laughed, then groaned when she clamped down on him. “Shit. Easy, or I’ll come too soon.” As it was, he nearly spent inside her when her clever hands reached for his chest. She stroked and petted him, and he pumped inside her a few more times.
“Witch,” he rasped and hurriedly withdrew. Then he reached into the nightstand and took out a small tube of lube. She’d made him wet, but he wanted nothing to impede her pleasure. After oiling himself, he dragged her ass to the edge of the bed, pushed her legs wider, and angled her hips up.
“Oh, yeah. In me.”
He positioned himself against her anus and slowly pushed. Deeper, slower, the heat enveloping him while he circled her clit with his thumb, stirring her to orgasm once more.
She whimpered and begged him to fuck her while he rubbed her taut bud, and then he was moving with her, faster, harder, his strokes impossibly deep.
“I’m coming. Oh, fuck. Yes,” he hissed and shoved hard one final time. He came just as she shuddered and bore down on him, lost in her own ecstatic release.
After he lost his mind and found it once more, he withdrew, then left her to hurry to the bathroom. He returned in moments to clean her up, loving the fact that each and every time with Joy their scents entwined and grew stronger, deeper. A commitment of love and affection that nothing would change. His cat purred along with hers, and after cleaning himself up as well, he joined her in bed.
“I’d say you’re feeling much better,” she growled in a sexy voice and fingered his belly.
“Yeah. This is exactly what the doctor ordered.” He sighed and hugged her close. “I fucking love you, baby. So much.”
“Nice mouth,” she chastised.
“Didn’t hear you complaining when I licked that orgasm right out of you.” He grinned at her blush. “That’s so sexy. I like when you get all pink. Like when you come and get me all slick, that flush on your breasts makes me want to eat you up.”