by Renee Rose
“Mmm—what is this?”
“It’s my version of lemonade. I don’t like Nolan to have too much sugar, so I make it with fresh lemons, stevia, and a little basil.”
I gape at her. Smoking hot single mom is also managing to pull a Martha Stewart existence? I drink the refreshing liquid down in three gulps and smack my lips. “That was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
She beams at me. “I’ll get you some more.”
My phone rings and I pull it out. Parker.
“Hey Alpha,” Declan sings out in a lilting brogue.
“Not your alpha,” I mumble for the gazillionth time, watching Nolan pretend not to watch me as he plays with a little train set on the coffee table. I crouch down to help him fix where the track has come apart as a queasy feeling moves through me. Who am I kidding, interacting with this kid? I’m not even fit to be alpha to a bunch of fucked up shifters—how fucking far does that make me from being fit as a dad?
“Did you find her?”
I glance back at Denali, coming in with a fresh glass of lemonade. Her long, sleek legs and elegant line of bare neck make the most mundane movements graceful. “Yeah.”
A cheer greets my words. Not just Declan—it sounds like a roomful of people.
“And? How’d it go?” Parker chimes in.
“You’re on speaker,” Declan informs me.
I pinch the bridge of my nose with a thumb and forefinger. Fuck, my head hurts.
“Alpha? Alpha?”
“Not your alpha,” I growl. Denali shoots me a worried glance and I turn away. I’ve got to get my animal under control.
“You’re in Temecula, right?”
“Yeah,” I answer just as Parker adds, “We’re close. We’re coming to see her.”
“What? No—”
“It’s a party,” Declan crows.
Laurie says in the background. “Can we order pizza?”
“No. Stay where you are,” I order with all the force I can muster.
“Sorry, no can do. Alpha mojo doesn’t work over the phone. Yell at us in person all you want,” Parker says,
“He won’t yell at us,” Declan reasons. “He wants to impress his mate.”
“We’ll be there in ten.”
“How do you know where I am?”
“Laurie bugged your phone,” Parker says.
“See ya soon, Alpha!” Declan shouts and the call goes dead.
Fuck.
“Everything all right?” Denali stands a few steps away, her brow furrowed. I resist the urge to throw the phone and curse.
“Fine. Just... we’re about to get company. Not like that,” I add when she tenses. “Friends of mine. Housemates actually.”
“They called you Alpha.”
Fucking shifter hearing.
“I’m not their alpha. They’re not even lions. They’re not fit to be a pack anyway—bunch of rejects. Leftovers from the Data-X experiments.”
She pales. “I see.” When she darts a worried glance at Nolan, the fist in my solar plexus tightens.
“He’s safe, Denali. I give you my word.” For what it’s worth.
She nods, once, and the tightness eases when I realize she believes me.
Twenty minutes later, a white Camaro roars up. I step out onto the porch and Denali and Nolan follow me.
“Brace yourself,” I mutter as Parker, Declan, and Laurie make their way to us. Someone says something to Declan to set him off, because he starts mock punching his companions.
“Not now,” Parker shoves the Irishman into Laurie. The tall, long limbed shifter’s glasses go flying and he almost keels over.
“All right, Jay-sus.” Declan grabs Laurie and helps him retrieve his glasses. “I’ll behave.”
“This is your pack?” Denali asks in disbelief.
“Not mine.” I shake my head.
“Parker.” I point as the grey-headed guy approaches. My fight manager stops in his tracks, but Declan and Laurie keep going, almost bowling him over.
“Declan.” I jab the air, pointing each one out. “Laurie Lawrence.”
“It’s like the three stooges,” Denali murmurs as Parker turns on Declan and Laurie pretends to bash their heads together. “Only one is thin.”
“And they’re shifters,” I agree with a sigh.
Denali sniffs the air, her eyes glinting with her lioness. “What are they?”
“Parker’s a wolf. Well, mostly wolf. Laurie’s a... well, you’ll figure it out. He’s pretty shy. I’m not sure what Declan is.”
“I’m Irish,” Declan offers, grinning wide, showing off crooked canines.
“I’m an owl,” Laurie raises his hand with a sheepish smile. His head twitches like he’s being electrocuted.
Denali sucks in a breath and the scent of cinnamon fills the air.
“Lioness.” Parker eyes her with satisfaction.
A growl rumbles through me, and I move closer to Denali.
“Mom?” says a small voice around our knees. “I thought we couldn’t talk about our animals.”
Denali whirls, crouching to grip her son’s shoulders. “That’s right baby. That’s safest. Go inside and play now, while momma talks to Nash’s friends.”
Nolan trundles back inside, but the three newcomers got a good look at him. Parker and Laurie’s mouths hang wide open.
Declan makes a choking sound. “Holy fecking—”
“Stop swearing,” I growl. “No foul language, no inappropriate topics. Understand?”
Laurie nods vigorously, eyes huge behind his thick glasses.
“Is that…?” Parker points and I swat his hand. The boy isn’t a freak show. Nolan still watches us through the screen door, curiosity written on his face. A bunch of strange guys showing up to ogle him—this kid is gonna be traumatized.
“He looks just like you,” Laurie murmurs.
I can’t help whirling to see if it’s true. On further study, the line of Nolan’s jaw, his nose, the gold tints in his hair—he does look like me.
My organs seem to shift and rearrange inside me.
“Nash? What’s going on?” Parker asks.
“This is Denali. My mate.”
She shakes off my hand. “Our mating doesn’t count,” she tells the crew. “It happened under duress.”
My lion growls again.
Parker sniffs the air, which is tinged with our mingled spice scent. No shifter can come close to Denali and not know I’ve marked her. “I think it still counts.”
“It’s complicated,” I say, and Denali shoots me a grateful look.
“Understood,” Declan says. “For a simple soldier, Nash is pretty complicated.”
I glare at him to no effect.
“How did you all meet?” Denali asks.
“Cage fighting,” Parker says. “Shifter style.”
I curse at Denali’s shocked look. This is not how I wanted to break the news to her.
“His lion needs to bleed someone on a regular basis. Almost nightly now, isn’t it?” Declan continues blithely.
“Shut up.”
“I’m Parker, ma’am,” Parker extends a hand. “Manager at The Pit. I arrange Nash’s fights.”
“And Laurie and I bet on them,” Declan says. “We’re bookies, too. Your mate’s made us a lot of money over the past few months.”
“I see. And you’re his pack?”
“He’s our alpha even though he says he’s not,” Laurie says.
“How does that work?” Denali’s brow wrinkles.
“We call him Alpha and he tells us to feck off—hey!” Declan breaks off as Laurie elbows him in the ribs.
“Don’t swear,” the gawky shifter reminds him.
“All right, all right, birdbrain. Jay-sus, your elbows are like daggers.” Grimacing, Declan rubs his chest where Laurie jabbed him.
“Who wants dinner?” Parker rubs his hands together. “Pizza?”
I clear my throat just as Denali says “Actually—”
“Pizza,
momma?” Nolan pops out from behind her. “Can I have pizza?”
Denali sighs.
“O’ course, little cub,” Declan declares. “Ya can have all the pizza ya want. What?” he pulls an innocent face as all but Nolan glare at him.
An hour later, we’re sitting in Denali’s living room, ten empty pizza boxes stacked on the porch. Shifters eat a lot. Declan and Parker fight over the last slice.
“So you two only met once before?” Laurie asks. He lounges on the floor, his long form stretched out where he’s been playing with Nolan for the past twenty minutes. He isn’t twitching so badly.
“Yes,” Denali says. She and I share a couch, and every nerve in me is alive, wanting to scoot a few inches to the right and touch her.
“You probably want some time alone then,” Parker speaks up.
“Aye, that’s a grand idea,” Declan says. “We can babysit—”
“No,” Denali and I almost shout together.
“All right,” Declan puts his hands up. “Jay-sus. Ya think I offered to feck—”
“No swearing,” Laurie and Parker both admonish. Parker slaps Declan’s head.
“No hitting either,” Denali adds.
Muttering, Declan tromps out to the porch.
I rub my forehead. “I’m just grateful he didn’t bring his hooch.”
“Oh, he brought it,” Laurie says. “We just wouldn’t let him bring it into the house.”
“Go keep an eye on him,” I order. Laurie follows him.
Denali rises and reaches for Nolan. “All right baby, time for bed.”
“But I’m not sleepy,” the boy says with a yawn.
“I know.” She herds him to the hall, pausing a moment to glance back at me, a question in her eyes.
“I’ll wait for you,” I say. After a moment of hesitation, she nods.
For a while I sit and listen to her getting Nolan ready for bed. His high voice protesting, her beautiful murmur. Simple, domestic sounds that should put me at ease. I rub my eyes. What the hell am I doing here?
As I head to the porch, I realize my lion is still quiet. He’s been that way since I bedded Denali. For once he’s relaxed, but I know it’s only a matter of time before the flashbacks return. Before my lion needs to make someone bleed.
“Good mate you got there, boss,” Parker says as I head over to the white Camaro. He and Declan are smoking. A flask sits by Declan.
“Gotta fight tomorrow at The Pit,” the wolf adds. “You want me to move it?”
Trying to think of an answer, I stare at the slope behind her house, where I chased and conquered her. I’ve lived so long with my lion rampaging, I don’t know any other life.
“We should go.” Declan hops off the car hood, tossing his cigarette to the ground. “You and the missus got a lot of stuff to work out.”
Understatement. As the guys pile into the car, I clench my fists. Usually, they’re torn up from a fight. All healed now. Usually that’s my cue to return to The Pit and pound someone until I don’t feel anything.
Shifter fights, flashbacks, and an unstable lion. What life can I possibly offer a mate and a son?
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Parker says. “Unless we don’t.” A half wave, and they pull out of the drive, and I realize as much as I pretended to resent their visit, the messed-up crew of shifters was the only thing distracting me from my problem.
Denali
“Are your friends going to spend the night? Like a sleepover?”
“No, baby.”
“That’s too bad. They were nice. Especially the bird-one.” Adorable in footie pajamas, Nolan climbs into bed. I scoot behind him to read him a story. He insists on reading parts of the book himself, and I take the chance to cuddle him and breathe in the baby shampoo scent clinging to his curls. I used to fall asleep like this, coming in after a day in the fields where I worked with the other migrant workers, relieving the babysitter and taking the precious moments to hold my boy.
Does Nash even realize what it’s been like, raising a son and trying to survive? My lioness is ready to be with him, but it’ll take more than an afternoon at a playground and a pizza dinner for him to prove to me he should be a part of my son’s life.
“Momma,” Nolan asks in a sleepy voice, “is Nash my dad?”
I try not to stiffen. “What makes you say that?”
“Laurie said I look like him.”
I take a big breath and pray Nolan falls asleep in the next two seconds.
“Is he?”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. I don’t want to tell him. Don’t want his little heart to be broken like mine was if things don’t work out between Nash and me. But I can’t lie. I asked Nash to and it didn’t sit right with me. “Yes, sweetie. He is. He was off fighting for our country and he never knew I had you, otherwise he would’ve been here for you.” That’s pretty close to the truth. Fighting for his life, not his country, but it was his country’s fault.
“Is he going to stay with us?”
“I don’t know yet. Nash and momma are still trying to figure things out.”
“I want a dad.”
I suck in a breath at the sudden pain. I thought I was doing fine by my son, being a mom and a dad for him. I guess I was wrong. “I know, baby,” I squeeze him tighter. “We’ll see what happens. In the meantime, momma loves you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” He pauses a moment, and adds, “I love you, momma.”
“That’s what matters. I’m not going anywhere.”
Nash
The scent of cinnamon hits the room before Denali. I rise from the couch, brushing crumbs from my shirt.
“You’re still here.”
“I told you I’d wait for you,” I say. “Besides, you didn’t offer me dessert.” I lift the lid off the cookie jar and take another cookie.
“You’re worse than Nolan.”
“These are so good, I could eat them all. You want one?”
“Hell, yes.” She leans against the counter and goes to grab the cookie I offer. I shake my head and bring it to her mouth. Blue-grey leaps into her eyes as she lets me feed it to her.
“These are your favorite, right? Peanut butter.”
“Nolan’s too, now. I make them all the time.”
“He’s a good kid.”
Her face softens. “The best.”
Slowly, I feed her another cookie. Her eyes dart over my face, filled with longing. There’s a little furrow between her brow, though, when I’m done.
“Nash, what are we—”
I lower my head and stop her words with my kiss.
Denali
“Favorite cookie?” Nash asks. We both sit on the cot, picking at the food the guards sent in.
“Peanut butter.”
Nash raises a brow. “Peanut butter cookies,” he murmurs.
“They’re easy to make, and almost every kitchen has the ingredients.”
The door swings open and I slam my body back to the wall, fear crawling up my arms. What a cowardly, cringing creature I’ve become.
Nash does the opposite. I peer past his huge body as he faces the triangle of guards.
“You’re supposed to breed her,” one orders.
“I already did.” Nash’s mild voice is at odds with the violent tension in every muscle of his body. He had—after turning my body to molten lava with his tongue between my legs.
“Boss wants you to do it again.” Two of the guards raise batons that crackle with electricity. I suppress a whimper and press myself further into the corner.
“You’re upsetting her.”
“We’ll do more than that if you don’t do as you’re told. You both know what to do.”
“Get out,” Nash growls.
The guards are smart enough to keep their eyes glued to Nash. He’s fearsome, even in human form. I’ll bet his lion would make the guards pee themselves. They think they’re invincible with their electric wands, though. “You gonna do what you’re supposed to,
or should we do the job for you?” The taunting guard unzips his pants.
A roar breaks from Nash’s throat and he starts to charge. The first guard blanches and backs away, but his friends are all too ready to wade in with their shock sticks. Nash doesn’t stand a chance.
“Stop,” I scream and scramble to his side. “Don’t hurt him. We’ll do it. Just…”
Nash’s shoulders heave with the exertion of keeping his lion in check. His eyes glow a lethal yellow. “Leave us.” His voice is thick. “Before I tear you apart.”
“Get on with it,” the guard snaps, and the door slams shut.
Nash’s head bows, his fists clenched at his side. So powerful. So helpless.
I’ve only known him a few hours, but I can’t stand to see him like this.
I touch his shoulder.
“Denali... I—”
“It’s all right,” I stop his apology. It’s not his fault. None of it is. I reach for him and run my hand down the hard line of his back, my body heating at the feel of the muscles bunched under my palm.
“Thank you for protecting me.”
He turns, and I almost flinch at the fire burning in his eyes. He wants me. Again. I blink and let the lioness out. Desire pours through me in slow, heated waves.
Nash rumbles with approval—somewhere between a roar and a purr. He cups my nape and claims my mouth, his kiss hungry. Insistent. He’s already used his clever tongue between my legs, brought me to orgasm and fit his length inside me. This time is different, though.
I realize now how much he’d held back before.
Nash’s appreciation for my cooking shouldn’t please me so much. This isn’t the 1950s. I’m not my grandmother, back in New Orleans, showing love through food. I never thought I’d want to win a man’s heart through his stomach. But I love the way he acts like the simplest things I’ve made are a rare delicacy. Kinda how he treats me.
He claims my mouth, much like he did that first night, with a ferocity that makes my knees go weak. It’s like he can’t get enough of me. Or his very survival depends on keeping our lips locked.
That first night I suppose it did.
Maybe it still does—for Nash, anyway. His lion seems calmer, his bruises and cuts all healed.
There’s a power to knowing I healed him.