Date: 2020-03-26 04:00:00+00:00
Description: Cole Harker, son of an alpha werewolf, is bigger and more powerful than most wolves, tongue-tied in groups, and gay. For twenty-four years, he’s lived to please his family and pack—even letting them promise him in marriage to female werewolf Analiese to secure a pack alliance and help save them from a powerful gangster who wants their land. Then Cole meets Analiese’s half-brother, panther shifter Paris Marketo, and for the first time, Cole wants something for himself. When Analiese runs off to marry a human, Cole finally has a chance with Paris, but the solitary cat rejects him, the pack, and

THE PACK OR THE PANTHER

Tara Lain

Tara Lain Books

Copyright

Published by Tara Lain Books
www.taralain.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The Pack or the Panther © 2020 Tara Lain

Cover Art by Lex Valentine

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

Tara Lain Books

1875 Dragon Fly Lane

Ashland, OT. 97520

Printed in the United States of America

Blurb

Cole Harker, son of an alpha werewolf, is bigger and more powerful than most wolves, tongue-tied in groups, and gay. For twenty-four years, he’s lived to please his family and pack—even letting them promise him in marriage to female werewolf Analiese to secure a pack alliance and help save them from a powerful gangster who wants their land. Then Cole meets Analiese’s half-brother, panther shifter Paris Marketo, and for the first time, Cole wants something for himself.

When Analiese runs off to marry a human, Cole finally has a chance with Paris, but the solitary cat rejects him, the pack, and everything it represents. Then Cole discovers the gangster wants Paris too and won’t rest until he has him. What started as a land dispute turns into World War Wolf! But the bigger fight is the battle between cats and dogs.

Dedication

To Saritza -- Thank you for opening doors and my vision!

Author’s Note

Hi! Thank you for reading The Pack or the Panther. This book is a rerelease of my very first werewolf romance. This book contains one of my favorite heroes, Paris Marketo, the panther shifter. Paris is a total cat – solitary, independent, selfish, and totally intriguing. At least I think so. LOL There are two more stories in the series coming up, all loosely connected, but also standalone reads. Those stories, Wolf in Gucci Loafers and Winter’s Wolf, will also be available in KU and on Amazon. The Harker Pack has been so fun to write about that it’s even inspired a spin-off series, Superordinary Society. You’ll find those books on Amazon and at other retailers. I hope you love The Pack or the Panther, my story of the battle of cats and dogs!

Table of Contents

The Pack or the Panther

Copyright

Blurb

Dedication

Author’s Note

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Meet Tara Lain

Books by Tara Lain

Wolf in Gucci Loafers

Prologue

The male’s fat cock stretched out in his suit pants. Yes, good. That dancer did it for him every time. Sipping his scotch, he ignored the panting, screaming, lusting crowd, both male and female, around him, and focused on the boy—the creature—on the stage. He danced like something otherworldly. Like he was an angel and the rest of the room was packed with mere animals. Of course, the boy was the sexiest angel alive—all silk and sinew. And some of the rest were literally animals—like him.

He wet his lips and waggled his fingers at the pretty blonde waitress.

“Yes, sir.” She looked scared. Good. Nothing made him hotter than fear. Except that boy.

He opened his palm and extended the five hundred-dollar bills to her. He nodded toward the stage. “For Anthony Moreau.”

Her eyes widened. “Sir, he doesn’t come to the table, uh, or….” Her face flushed a pretty pink. Like a well-beaten ass.

He smiled. “I know all about him. Just see he gets this and knows it’s from me.”

“Yes, sir.”

He’d lied, of course. He barely knew anything about the boy, despite a lot of well-placed investigative money. Not where he lived. Not who he really was. “And when you’ve delivered it, why don’t you come back here and have a drink with me?”

What fun watching panic flit across her face. She couldn’t say no. He was too powerful. Too rich. He smiled. Too dangerous.

She gazed out of wide blue eyes. “I’d love to, sir.” But she swallowed hard.

“Good.” He flicked his fingers in dismissal and she left, carrying the money. But she’d come back. Oh yes, and shortly after that he’d be holding her bound arms as he shoved his fat, throbbing cock into her ass and listened to her scream—and thought about the dancer.

Chapter One

“I’m doing what?” Cole Harker stared at his father. The man had lost his frigging werewolf mind.

Landon Harker leaned forward in his easy chair. Shit. Cole wanted to turn the huge recliner over on his head.

His father pointed a finger at him. “You’re twenty-four and you haven’t found a mate. This treaty protects all of us. The Marketo wolves don’t just border our lands; they share business interests, as you damned well know. We’re a small and independent pack, which makes us fortunate but also vulnerable. And Eliazer is ruthless. I don’t have to tell you what he can do to us. You’re alphanta. I’m asking you to do this for me and for the pack.”

Cole shook his head. Words. He needed words. He never could find them when he needed them most. His wolf wanted to take over and rip up the drapes. He gritted his teeth. “I can’t marry Analiese Marketo.”

Landon lunged forward so his booted feet hit the floor. “Why the hell not?”

Take a deep breath and try not to bash your own father’s head. “You. Know. Why.”

His father waved a hand. “It’s not a problem.”

Cole clenched his fists. He could feel his eyes bulging. “It’s not a problem that I’m gay?”

“Give it a break, son. There’s no such thing as a gay werewolf.”

His mouth fell open. “Bullshit! You know that’s not true. It’s just a myth werewolves want to believe. It’s time we grew up.”

Landon shrugged. “Why do you think you’re gay?”

Cole walked a step toward his father. “I like men. I want to stick my cock in men’s asses. How much gayer do I need to be to convince you?”

“You’ve had plenty of girlfriends.”

God! “I was trying to be who you and the pack wanted. I didn’t like it.”

His father stood to his full six foot three, but he was still two inches shorter than Cole. Landon stared up. “Well, the females certainly did. I heard all kinds of great shit about what a terrific lover you are.”

Cole sighed. “Hell, compared to most of those idiot males, all I had to be was nice to be Casanova in the females’ eyes. Those guys have cock for brains. They don’t care where they stick it.”

Landon chuckled. “Yep. I remember those days before I met your mother.”

Cole fell into the chair on the other side of his father’s study. “Your reminiscences are charming, but this is my life you’re messing with.”

His father’s face sobered, and he took the chair opposite Cole. “Yes, it is your life. I want you to be alpha after me, Cole. You’re smart, strong, honest, and not afraid of much. And you have skills like no other werewolf in either pack. You’re alphanta. The next generation leader. The pack needs that. But the gay thing is an issue. If I could just name you my successor I would, but alphas are chosen, not born. Our wolves are not likely to choose a gay alpha. But this treaty and your marriage to the Marketo girl will seal the deal. You’ll be the linchpin in the fortunes of the whole northwest pack alliance.”

“It’s a stupid fraud.” He threw the pillow from the chair at the floor.

“No, it’s not. Since you and that female aren’t mates, you have to marry in the courts. Make it legal. Then we do the blood ceremony. After that, you can both have dalliances of your own. No one will care. The alliance is what counts. It will save us all from Eliazer. Besides, it’s a great match of packs. We’re comparable in strength and values. Think of this like the marriages of European royalty back in the day. Nobody married for love. It was all for politics. And nobody does politics like a werewolf.”

A growl rumbled past Cole’s lips. “I don’t do politics.”

“Learn.”

Cole’s jaw hurt from gritting his teeth. “You married for love.”

Landon smiled. “Yes, my mate came early and there was no denying it. I might have wished for a few more years of wild oats, but that’s not what the powers had in store for me.”

His throat felt tight. “What if I want to feel the same way?”

His father looked at him directly. His expression was hard but the deep-blue eyes were soft. “It’s better this way. If you were to mate a man, a lot of the pack would never accept it. You’d never be alpha.”

Cole stared down at his hands. “Maybe that would be better.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Probably not. He sighed. He could feel the ground slipping out from under his feet. “I’m no great leader. Hell, I can’t even talk in groups.”

“You lead when it counts, Cole. The pack needs you, the alliance needs you, and you know you need the pack. It’s a part of you.”

Trapped. What a crappy situation. He wanted the alliance as much as his father did, and his father knew it. That was the problem. Uniting the packs in marriage was a dream come true. With marriage he’d be a part of the Marketo pack, almost as much as if he’d been born in it. And the alliance would make Pack Harker strong enough to fend off the threat. But shit! He had to spend his life with a female to make it happen.

He got up, and his father stood beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “The betrothal party is tomorrow night.”

He shook off the hand. “Don’t I even get time to think about it?”

“We can’t wait on this. Merced Marketo said yes, and I want blood and ink on the page before the full moon. He’s canny, but he can be mercurial. Who knows how the girl feels, and she has him wound around her paw. We need this done. Eliazer Pack gets stronger every day. Do you want to give up a third of your territory to those crooks? Or more? Do you want gangsters for neighbors?”

Shit. “No, sir.”

“Make your peace.”

He clenched his fists. “But if the girl doesn’t want me either?”

Landon waved a hand. “It’s done.” Cole was dismissed.

* * *

Shit! His skin burned and tingles of acid pain flicked over his body. Ow. Ow. Never shift when pissed. Cardinal rule of wolfiness.

Cole picked himself up off the grass and stumbled toward the hedge where he’d left his clothes an hour earlier. If someone caught him out here stark naked, he’d have some serious explaining to do.

He didn’t want to tell his father he’d been shifting near home. Most wolves could only shift at the full moon. They all piled into semis and headed for the backwoods of New Hampshire for the pack runs. Around here they were just humans with high body heat.

He kicked the dirt. Sometimes he couldn’t stand being a human, and, since his pure alpha blood let him shift whenever he chose, he could sink into his animal brain and run. Like when he considered spending his fucking life with a female partner. Of course, he’d never really gotten a chance to be gay. Just some back-alley hookups with random humans. No male werewolf admitted to liking guys if he could help it. At least Cole had declared his orientation out loud, even if his pack pretended he hadn’t. Him and Lindsey. The oddballs.

He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on commando. Niceties like underwear often went missing in the wardrobe of a werewolf. He pulled the long-sleeved T-shirt over his head, then sat on the ground to lace up his sneakers.

What would become of him? He hated werewolf politics. Yes, he was a lawyer like his father and knew every angle of the rights and laws governing their holdings and businesses. But all the political screwing around made him nauseous.

He got up and walked across the grass toward the club. Maybe Lindsey would be there. At least he’d understand how Cole felt.

He pushed open the door to the Way Station, the “unofficial” werewolf club. Noise—voices, music, billiard balls clacking. He looked around at the crowd. There were a few humans. They had no idea they were sitting next to supernaturals at the big bar. A werewolf owned the Way Station, and the wolves felt comfortable being together.

Pack was pack.

Lindsey stood up at a table halfway across the room and waved. His best friend. By inheritance, Lindsey was a very rich man. The thought made Cole smile. Not many people knew that the leading families of New England harbored a few secret wolves.

Cole waved back and started scooting through the tables, but this was the hard part. The part he hated. The crowd.

A hand grasped his shoulder. “Hey, Cole.”

Cole nodded at the big male. “Hi, John.”

A couple more people hailed him, and one slapped his butt.

He smiled and nodded as he walked by groups from the pack, but he could feel himself blushing. He got jumpy in front of too many people. That’s why he didn’t litigate. He just sat with his books and papers in an office and made shit happen.

A human looked up at him. The man’s eyes widened and he looked away real fast. Crap. Talk about wanting to fade into the woodwork. He’d spent his whole life being stared at because he didn’t track as human. Even in this group of big wolf males, he stood out. Not that he was huge at six feet five and two hundred twenty-five pounds. Sure, he was one of the bigger males, but mostly it was his hair and eyes that made him weird.

Officially his hair was light brown, but shine a little light on it and the color became wolfy silver, thick and shiny around his face. He wore it long because cutting it was a pain; it grew so fast. And then there were his eyes. He had to wear glasses when he was out at night so his eyes didn’t shine in the headlights. Indoors, they just looked strange. Intense, people called it. Strangers glanced at him and looked scared. No wonder he was so tongue-tied. Being a freak did that to you.

He finally got through the crush and pulled out a chair beside Lindsey.

Linds looked up and smiled. That handsome, refined, almost-human face, so different from Cole’s, crinkled in affection.

Cole nodded at the other two wolves sitting at the table. Alf Cotswale and Jim Joyner. Good guys. Not gay like him and Linds, though. Alf and Jim kind of knew that Cole and Lindsey liked guys, but they didn’t talk about it.

“I need a drink.” Cole sat heavily.

Lindsey waved the waitress over. She was pack, so she came quickly. “What’ll you have, Cole?”

“Beer. Two would be good.”

“Right away.”

Linds put a hand on his arm. “You don’t look good, darling. What’s up?”

Should he tell? Landon hadn’t said to keep it secret. “I’m getting married.”

Lindsey had a martini glass to his lips. The contents splashed across his hand as he sputtered. “What the fuck do you mean?”

Cole took a deep breath. Even saying it out loud gave it more reality than he wanted to deal with. “Landon promised I’d marry Marketo’s daughter as part of the pack alliance.”

Alf sat forward. “Cool. That’s fantastic. It’ll be amazing for the pack.”

Cole took a breath. That was the way most of the wolves would feel. It was true. The alliance would make them strong—virtually unassailable even by the Eliazers.

Lindsey slammed his glass on the table and surrendered more vodka to the wooden surface. “Shit! They can’t do this to you.”

At least Linds understood. “He already has. The betrothal party is tomorrow night.”

“Holy fucking crap.”

Jim leaned in. “Have you met her? Is she pretty?”

Linds gave him a look of pure disdain. “What difference does it make? She could be Angelina Jolie and Cole wouldn’t care.” He flipped some money on the table as the waitress served the beers.

Alf looked down at his drink, and Jim grabbed a swallow and stared off into the room. Their response to Lindsey might as well have been “la la la.” His father was so right. In their minds, there was no such thing as a gay werewolf. They’d seen Cole with females and that was enough for them. Lindsey tested their disbelief because he was pretty flamboyant, but the whole pack just considered him eccentric. After all, he wasn’t just rich; he was part human, a relative rarity. That was bound to make anybody a little weird.

Lindsey leaned in. “What can I do?”

Cole shook his head. “Nothing I can think of.”

He lowered his voice. “We could run off together. Remember how we said we’d end up together if we didn’t find our mates?” He grinned.

Cole ruffled Lindsey’s bright-blond hair. “You’re my friend. I’d never wreck your life like that. We may be different from the others, but we’re pack animals, buddy. Besides, you’ll find your mate. I know you will.” He chugged half of one of the beers.

“Unlikely.” Lindsey knocked back the rest of the martini. “It seems to me your having all that pure alpha blood ought to have some advantages. All I ever see you make are sacrifices.” He laid a hand on Cole’s arm and squeezed. “And I can’t even come to your charade party tomorrow. I have to travel for the family.” Lindsey handled marketing for a number of his family’s companies.

“Damn. I sure would like you there for moral support.”

“Sorry, darling. I hate the idea of seeing you led to the slaughter in the name of some wolfy mystique, but you know I’d be there for you if I could and—” His mouth fell open and he closed it slowly. “Holy fucking shit. Who, or maybe I should say what, is that?”

Cole turned toward the door as Alf and Jim looked up. Alf shrugged. “Those are Marketo wolves.”

Lindsey grinned. “That ain’t like no Marketo wolf I ever saw.”

Cole faced the entrance to the club. Three big males and—oh my God. Standing in the middle of the protective circle was a creature, a male. A wolf? Like Lindsey said, not like any he’d seen. This male was maybe six feet tall—the height of a short wolf. But wolves were muscular. This creature was sinuous, lean, and graceful even standing still. He had long legs, narrow hips, and a slim chest, though his shoulders were wide. The black jeans and pale-green leather jacket he wore accentuated the long V of his body.

But most amazing was his face. “Exotic” barely described him. Fair skin set off black shining hair that fell below his shoulders, although the section around his face seemed shorter, like a frame. The hair caressed his high cheekbones, slim cheeks, and lips too large for his narrow jaw. And his eyes? Even from halfway across the room, Cole knew they were weird. Like his own but maybe more so.

What the hell was this guy? Cole wanted to smell him. Heat flashed up his spine in waves, and he shifted in his chair. Shit, he wanted to fuck him.

Lindsey laughed low. “I think you like that.”

“What is it?”

“No idea. But whatever it is, it must be precious the way those big Marketos are guarding it.”

One of the Marketo wolves speared Cole with his gaze, and Cole turned back to the table. “I wonder if this has something to do with the betrothal.”

Lindsey laughed. “What? You think the guy is a priest?”

Jim frowned. “You want me to try and find out something?”

Cole shook his head. “No. It doesn’t matter. The creature doesn’t look dangerous.” That was a lie. The guy might be very dangerous to Cole’s libido.

He drank the rest of his beers and tried to think about something else.

Lindsey leaned over. “I think I’m done for tonight. If you’re ready, I’ll walk you out. We could make a pass by the Marketo table.” He grinned, his dimples flashing.

“Okay. I’m game.” Cole glanced back to where the Marketo wolves sat with their unusual treasure. “But their table’s not exactly on the way to the front door.”

“Ah, I have a plan, my dear. We have to pee and, like true girlfriends, we have to go together. Coming out of the men’s room to the entrance will lead us right past the pretty creature.”

Cole grinned. “Excellent plan.”

Cole said good-bye to Alf and Jim and followed Lindsey to the men’s room. He did a quick stop at the urinal, washed, and waited for his friend to fish hand lotion from his pocket and use it. Cole held his nose. “The smell of that stuff may cover up their scents.”

“Not likely, darling. You can smell a tadpole at the bottom of a river.”

That was true. Another gift of his pure alpha werewolf genes.

“Of course, to my inferior nose, this stuff smells divine.” Linds waved the lotion toward Cole, who jumped back against the sink. “My human DNA may make me a poor wolf, but it does have its pleasantries.” He grinned and put the lotion back in his pocket. “Though I would love to be able to shift anytime I wanted instead of waiting for the moon.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a mixed blessing.” Cole pushed away from the sink. “Let’s go see what this thing is.”

Lindsey led the way out of the men’s room. They threaded through the tables, and just as they got to the Marketos, Lindsey oh-so-casually stopped to greet a woman at an adjoining table. “Darling Clarisse, how are you doing? How’s the family?”

Cole stopped behind Lindsey, who was madly air kissing. Trying for long-suffering, he leaned against an empty table.

He breathed deeply. What?

Another deep breath. Holy shit. No. It couldn’t be.

Again. He sorted the strains of scent coming from the table. Powerful wolf smells. Those males must be top Marketo enforcers. But under that smell. Potent, acrid.

Wow.

“Well, kiss-kiss, darling. So good to see you.” Lindsey hugged the woman and headed toward the door.

Cole followed to the entrance. How could it be? He glanced over his shoulder and froze as eyes met his—golden eyes that gleamed like someone was holding a light on them. A yank on his arm pulled him away and into the cool night air.

Lindsey turned him around on the porch. “I thought I’d lost you for a minute there, darling. What, pray tell, did you learn?”

Cole leaned against the pillar in front of the club. “It’s hard to believe. I must be wrong.”

“What? Tell me.”

“He’s got wolf all right.”

“He sure doesn’t look it.”

“That’s because he’s not all wolf.”

“Oh, so what kind of human produces a creature that looks like that?”

Cole shook his head. “No human at all.”

“But you said he’s only part wolf.”

“Right.” Cole stared at Lindsey. “I think he’s at least half panther.”

Lindsey’s blue eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. And they say dogs and cats can’t live together.” He could joke, but this was one hell of a mystery.

Linds shook his head. “Seriously, I’ve always been told that shifters can mate but they don’t produce offspring.”

“Yep. That’s what I’ve been told too.”

“So how did this guy happen? I mean, if you’re right, and that nose is seldom wrong.”

“I don’t know. It’s pretty amazing to think about….” He sniffed the air. What the hell? Tingling in his spine usually meant danger. Was there danger here? He turned slowly and glanced across the street. If he hadn’t been an alphanta werewolf, he never would have seen the two men ducked down low in the nondescript gray car parked on the other side of the road from the club. He inhaled deeply. Humans.

Lindsey stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Humans with guns.” He stared directly at the car. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and he knew the streetlights might give his eyes an eerie glare. Good. Scare those assholes.

“Shall I go in and get the Marketo enforcers?”

“No. Not yet.”

The car engine started and the gray coupe moved slowly down the road. A hundred yards away, the headlights finally came on.

Lindsey sounded a little breathless. He didn’t fight a lot in the rarified air of Connecticut society. “What do you suppose that was about?”

“No idea. But I don’t like the weapons.”

“Maybe they’re just crazy human gun fanatics.”

Cole stared down the road. “Maybe.”

Maybe not.

Chapter Two

Cole paced outside his father’s study. The crisp gray suit and blue tie chafed his spirit more than his body. He wore suits to work a lot, but this one felt like a straightjacket. Yeah, and he should be committed for agreeing to this wedding.

He leaned against the wall. How important was the whole panther thing? What did it mean for the alliance and the pack? When he’d come home last night, Landon had already retired, and Cole didn’t think it was enough of an emergency to bother him. But now he was antsy.

The door opened and Landon leaned out. “Come on in, son.”

Cole walked in and stopped. Crystal Harker sat on the couch opposite Landon’s desk, looking fiery and elegant at the same time, with her red hair smoothly arranged. “Good morning, Cole.”

He smiled. “Good morning.” His mother always made him warm, fuzzy, and nervous. His pack called her the Queen of the Werewolves, and that was no understatement. Tall, beautiful, and fierce, she’d battle for pack and litter more powerfully than any alpha male. She could easily have been the leader of her own pack, but she loved Landon and was content being his alpha female. She also loved her single pup, but no one expected more of him than his mother.

Landon sat behind the desk. “Sit. What’s up?”

He glanced at his mother. Technically, he didn’t need her permission to speak, but everyone knew it was wise to get her approval. She nodded slightly.

“Something odd happened last night. I went to the Way Station. Three big Marketo enforcers came in.”

Landon nodded. “It’s mutual territory.”

“Yes, sir. That’s not the unusual part. They were escorting another male. A really different guy. He looked, I don’t know, unique. Not like a typical wolf male. Slim and real pretty. They were guarding him like he was made of gold, so I wanted to get a whiff. We passed their table and—I know this will sound weird, but I could swear the guy was part feline.”

“Feline?”

“Yeah, like he was half wolf and half panther.”

Landon turned his head slowly toward Crystal. Talk about your significant looks.

Cole looked back and forth between them. “What?”

His mother leaned back on the couch. “We’ve heard stories about a liaison between Merced Marketo and a panther female back in the day.”

Landon nodded. “But since he married Trixie in that alliance he made twenty years ago, and they had Analiese, we thought it was just a wild fable.”

Cole nodded. “Most say wolves can’t produce offspring with felines at all. I don’t see how this guy could be half and half.”

His mother frowned. “There are known cases of mixed shifter offspring, though it’s rare. I’ve never seen a feline/canine mix, however.”

“I probably made a mistake. Maybe he’s just from some remote pack that eats differently or something, so I mixed up his smell.”

“Maybe.”

Landon nodded. “But if he’s Marketo, chances are we’ll see him today.”

He could gag thinking about the day.

He didn’t hide his feelings very well. His mother leaned forward. “Cole, I want you to know that I’m truly sorry. I would spare you this marriage if there was any other way. But Merced believes in marriage alliances. Most wolves do. And he demands this ceremony in return for their support. We might hold out against Eliazer on our own—”

He blew out breath. “But not without war, and we’d lose a lot of pack.”

“And run the risk of attracting human attention.” She got up and walked over to his chair and brushed his forehead. “You’re a fine male and a smart one. You’ve always done what the pack needed. I’m sorry we must ask this of you. But you’re our only child.”

God, he wanted to bury his head in her skirt and cry. All he could manage was a headshake.

Landon leaned in. “And it’ll all go very fast. The betrothal tonight and then a bachelor party—”

Crystal shook her head. “Actually a bachelor and bachelorette party together. I guess it’s the new thing. Very progressive.” She shrugged elegantly.

Landon nodded. “And then the wedding will happen Sunday.”

Oh God. Breathe.

His mother rubbed small circles on his shoulder. “It’s probably better than stringing it out. Besides, I’m sad to say this alliance must be set up immediately. Our spies tell us the Eliazers are infiltrating into the Stony Ridge area. Setting up camps. We need patrols, and we can’t spread our people too thin.”

He swallowed hard. “I understand.”

She nodded at Landon. “We should go. We want to give Cole and Analiese time together before the betrothal ceremony.”

Landon rose from his desk.

Cole shuffled his feet. God, he felt like he weighed a thousand pounds and his legs wouldn’t hold him. Finally, he managed to stand. His mother patted his tie and smiled. But her eyes were sad.

He took a step toward the door, then turned back. “I forgot something that might be important. Outside the club last night when Lindsey and I left, there were two humans in a car parked across the street. I smelled weapons. Guns. And the whole thing looked professional.”

“Professional?”

“Yeah. Like human professional.”

Landon frowned. “What in the hell would humans with guns want in this town?”

His mother looked at the alpha. “Could it be Eliazer?”

“They’re gangsters but very suspicious of humans. I doubt it, unless they’ve changed their methods a lot.”

Cole shrugged. “Maybe a little wolf hunting?”

* * *

“Where is my dancer? Do you have word of Anthony?” Nikel Eliazer paced the living room of his high-rise condominium. He pulled the rose from his buttonhole and started picking the petals. “Everything is ready. I need the boy.”

Karl, his second in command, shook his head. “I don’t know about that, sir. I wanted to finalize plans for the invasion of Harker Pack territory.”

He threw the rose at Karl’s feet. “What do I care about the takeover of some rural woodland, for God’s sake? You’re my second. You should care about what I care about.”

“I do, sir.” His military posture got more pronounced. “But I know the Harker takeover is just the beginning of your plan to rule the Connecticut packs and later all of New England. As I understand your vision, Harker is a key. Sir!”

Eliazer stared at the handsome enforcer. He’d made him second because he had more brains than most of them and the other pack members respected him. Right now the wolf was talking sense. Nikel was thinking with his cock, not his wallet. And he needed a big wallet if he was going to keep his pack of mercenary wolves loyal. He’d promised them land and running space and the chance to loot smaller packs. He had to deliver. Still, he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted Anthony.

He took a deep breath. Control. “Excellent. I’m glad to see you so attuned to what I’ve taught you.” If Karl knew he was being had, he didn’t twitch a whisker.

“Then we should move in?”

Eliazer shook his head. “Keep sending small parties into the territory. First we’ll set up camps. If we can claim it without losing any soldiers, all the better.”

A slight crease appeared between the light brows. “Harker has deeds to the land and a good lawyer looking out for their claims.”

Nikel smiled. “I didn’t say there’d be no blood. Eventually, we’ll kill all their key pack members and the rest will join us, bringing the land with them.” He’d gotten to be an alpha by being more ruthless than other wolves and by rewarding ruthlessness in others. The formula worked.

“I see.”

He waved a hand. “So continue the incursions.”

“Yes, sir.” He turned and moved toward the door.

“And Karl.”

The enforcer stopped but didn’t turn.

“As soon as you contact those humans who are looking for Anthony, tell me. Immediately, do you understand?”

Karl almost hid his sigh of disgust. “Yes, sir.”

Perhaps Nikel would rethink Karl’s position.

* * *

If there’d been a firing squad on the other side of that door, Cole wouldn’t have felt this awful. Hell, he might feel pretty good about the firing squad. His escort was certainly somber enough for one.

Merced Marketo and his wife, Trixie, flanked Cole on one side, with Landon and Crystal on the other. The Marketo alpha was imposing. Almost as tall as Landon, and broader, Merced looked as powerful as his reputation. His wife, not an alpha female, was small for a werewolf, blonde and delicate. Merced seemed very protective of her. She kept glancing at Cole with what looked like accusation. Shit, he hadn’t asked to be here. She should talk to her husband.

At the door to the back lounge in the meeting hall, the whole honor guard stopped. Marketo pulled a folder from a case he carried and handed it to Cole with great solemnity. This whole thing felt so strange.

Trixie opened the door and held it while he walked into the room. Once he took a step inside, the door closed emphatically, like he shouldn’t let it hit him in the ass while he left their august company.

But after all the buildup, the room was empty. No female werewolf.

He walked over to the faux-leather couch on the far wall and sat, setting the folder on the glass coffee table in front of the sofa. He flipped open the cover.

It was a resume. A rundown on the Marketo female. Weird. And she was probably looking at a similar document on him right now. Even weirder.

Oh well. He had it, so he’d better look and not be at a disadvantage.

It only took a glance to appreciate that he was about to get engaged to one prime piece of werewolf real estate. Analiese Marketo was an alphanta like he was. That meant she had the bloodlines, power, and promise to be alpha. Of course, it didn’t guarantee it would happen, but it gave her a big leg up. Eight out of ten alphas elected by packs were alphanta, and in the independent packs like Harker and Marketo, it was nine out of ten. So Analiese could run her own pack much like Crystal could. Putting her with Cole, another alphanta, gave a pack power. Plus, this female had a degree in political science. With his law degree, the alphas must figure they had a dynamite combination. And they would be right, except for a few details—all of which were that he was gay.

He looked down at the page. Born in Connecticut. Graduated from Yale. Siblings. One half brother. What?

A side door to the room opened. Cole looked up. My, oh my. Analiese Marketo clearly got the best of both worlds—her father’s height and power, her mother’s delicate blonde beauty.

He stood. “Hello.”

Tension radiated from her tall, slender body. “Hello.”

He tried to smile and held up the resume. “I was just reading about you.”

She nodded. “Likewise.” She didn’t move from the spot two steps into the room that she’d reached when she entered.

“Would you like to sit down?” He motioned toward the chairs opposite the couch.

She nodded curtly, walked over to the chair, folded her black skirt under a gently rounded butt, and sat. Interesting what her mother’s features looked like on a powerful creature. Refined but still bold—wide gray eyes, a stronger jaw than Trixie’s, a nicely shaped mouth that she’d compressed into a taut line.

He cocked his head. “I’m gathering that you didn’t have any more say in this wedding than I did.”

She expelled breath in a hiss. “No, dammit. And I don’t like one thing about it.” Her eyes flew up to his. “Sorry. That came out wrong. You’re obviously an accomplished male. I just didn’t plan on an arranged marriage throwing my whole damned life into turmoil. My father is usually more considerate of my wishes.” She crossed her arms tightly over small breasts.

He nodded. “I can see why they thought it up.”

She sighed. “Yes, my father and mother had an arranged marriage, and they think highly of the institution.”

“We’re both alphanta.”

Her face crumbled a little until she pulled it back into her firm mask. “Yes, much is the pity.”

“You don’t want to be alpha female?”

She straightened her spine. “Only if I can run my own pack and marry whomever I choose.”

She was tightly contained, but he could smell the sadness. “And is there someone you’d choose?”

Just a tiny intake of breath came before the tears that pushed out of her wide eyes. “Why discuss fantasyland?” She swiped at her wet cheeks. “But I must ask if the rumors about you are true.”

“Yes.” What else could he say?

She nodded. “I see.”

“It’s been suggested that we can make our own liaisons once we’re officially wed and the alliance is sealed.” He shrugged.

A furrow popped out between her brows. “Do you enjoy living a lie?”

He stared at her and gritted his teeth. “I don’t enjoy any of this charade. I’m a gay man and, just like you, would like to live out my life with someone I could love and make love to. Maybe even find a mate. I’m not a political animal.” He laughed at his own joke, but it sounded harsh. “I prefer life to be honest and straightforward. Perhaps you can imagine how seldom I get to do that.”

Her eyes widened and tears glistened again.

He took a breath.

“I understand the importance of this alliance. If I was in my father’s shoes, or your father’s for that matter, I’m not sure what I’d do.” That was true. How ironic that he should be sitting here defending his father’s position. Crap on all pack animals, himself included. He sighed. “I haven’t found a mate. Apparently, neither have you. We’re ripe for political machinations. And, as my father said, it’s done.”

A muscle jumped in her jaw. “You’re not going to fight them?”

Was he? If she wanted to, would he? If Eliazer Pack took two regions of their territory, they’d have to go to war to keep the rest. Their wolves needed sustenance, places to work, regions to hunt. Cole felt that need in his soul. “I’m pack, Analiese. I’ll fight them if you can show me another way to protect the pack.”

She shook her head wildly. “You protect them even though they deny you? Won’t let you be who you are?”

He sighed. “Even though.” He looked at her. “Don’t you feel it too? You’re alphanta. Isn’t pack blood your blood?”

She put her face in her hands and cried.

He stood and walked over to her. No touching. She wouldn’t like that. “I’m so sorry. I wish we could think of another way.”

She looked up, tearstained. “There has to be.”

“We’re the only offspring of the pack alphas. The alliance needs a marriage seal. Like your parents.”

Her eyes got wide.

The door opened and Merced Marketo came in. “The reception is beginning.” He looked at his daughter’s ravaged face and frowned. “Enough of this, Analiese. Get yourself together.” He extended his hand to Cole. “Come along, son. Say hello to your guests while Analiese fixes her makeup.” He gave her a look that would have frozen fire and escorted Cole out the door.

Chapter Three

Wham. The noise, energy, and heat of the crowd in the meeting hall hit Cole like a wall. How could he be a werewolf who loved pack but hated crowds? He did okay at the club because he knew no one expected him to talk or lead. Here, it was different. Shit, he hated being the center of attention.

Pack members smiled, patted, stuck out their hands. Heat rose up his neck until his face felt as shiny as his hair. He wished he could be as comfortable and easygoing as his father, but no such luck.

Marketo wolves stared at him with what looked like interest and maybe a little derision, since most of them knew the rumors about his sexual orientation. But he didn’t smell any hostility. No, this alliance helped everyone. No member of either pack would vote against it. Nobody was coming to save him.

Marketo kept a hand on his arm and led him through the crush. The big, open space of the hall had been set up with tables and chairs, plus a bar and huge buffet table at opposite ends. Werewolves liked to eat. Everything had been decorated with blue and red, the colors of the two packs. It looked more like a political rally than a betrothal celebration. Appropriate.

They headed toward a table at one end of the room. Though it might be called a “main” table, it wasn’t raised because no matter how powerful the alphas were, werewolves were egalitarian. This was the table for the families. Landon and Crystal were already there, along with Trixie Marketo and a big male who must have been Marketo’s second and—Cole stopped walking, which halted Marketo’s forward motion like a boat anchor.

Sitting at the table talking to Landon was the male Cole had seen at the club, the one that smelled like cat. And somehow he managed to be even more beautiful than he was the previous night. “Who’s that?”

Marketo looked up at him, then glanced at the table. “That’s my son, Analiese’s half brother.”

“He smells like a panther.”

Marketo frowned. “How do you know that?”

“I saw him at the club last night and, since he looks so different, I smelled him.’

Marketo laughed. “So your reputed sense of smell isn’t a myth.”

“How did he happen?” Cole took a breath. “Sorry, that came out rude.” He dragged his eyes away from the beautiful guy and looked at Marketo. “How do you happen to have a son who’s half panther?”

“My mate was panther.” Pain lingered in his eyes.

“What the hell?” Cole stared at the big man.

He frowned. “I’ve already explained this to your parents, but I respect you and will repeat the story. I met her when I was very young. She was a panther domme, the equivalent of our alpha.” He looked around and moved a few steps from some pack members nearby. Clearly, he didn’t share this story with many people. “Of course, she was solitary, as panthers are. For some reason known only to the almighty powers, I recognized her as my mate. Panthers don’t take mating seriously like we do, but she accepted me. Perhaps because we were mated, we were able to produce a child. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s happened before or since, but it happened to me. Birthing the child was too much for her, and she died.”

Cole cringed at the fresh hurt in Merced’s face. “I’m so sorry. But why haven’t we heard about him before? Our territories adjoin. Surely, something so extraordinary would get out.”

Marketo looked down at his hands. “Since he’s always identified as a panther, I was afraid of how he’d be accepted, so I sent him away to school very early. Since he’s grown, he’s, uh, lived alone. He’s hardly been with the pack.” His face softened. “I married my Trixie in an alliance arrangement twenty years ago. She and I have visited my son many times.” He took Cole’s arm again. “Come and meet him.”

Cole breathed in. Even from half a room away, he could pick up the sharp smell of cat. Nobody else seemed to notice or be bothered by it. Of course, probably only the alphas knew what it was. Cat odor would be so unfamiliar in human form that few of the pack would know how to interpret it. They’d assume the guy was a wolf who smelled funny.

A deep breath brought that acrid tinge into his nose again. He wasn’t exactly bothered. More like hot and bothered. Something about that pungent odor seemed to slip under his skin and race straight to his cock. Weird. Why would he be attracted to cat?

He looked toward the table as he followed Marketo. Of course, the guy was plain beautiful, so maybe that was the attraction. Cole always liked the prettier humans when he looked for sex partners, and in a black suit and white shirt open at the neck, this creature was a work of art. But damn, the closer Cole got to the table, the more his cock turned into a heat-seeking device. He pulled his suit jacket closed with his free hand.

The cat was talking to Landon, but as they got ten feet away, his head turned. Strange gold eyes stared at Cole from under thick black lashes—half-suspicious, half-coy. How like a cat. He raised his head and sat up straight, facing front. When they got an arm’s length away, the guy stood. His eyes never left Cole.

Marketo extended an arm. “Paris, may I present the alphanta of the Harker pack, Cole. Cole, this is my son, Paris.”

The guy just stared at him for a moment. Cole’s heart beat so hard it felt like it would escape his chest. Paris. A beautiful place to visit.

The cat extended a slender hand.

The gesture was so feminine that Cole almost did the fingertip grip he might have given a woman, but instead he grasped the hand, swallowing it in his big paw. Heat ripped up his arm, attacked his heart, and shot down into his balls like lightning. He grabbed his hand back like he’d laid it on a stove.

Paris smiled. Smug was the word that came to mind. “How lovely to meet you.”

Cole’s mouth fell open and he had to use will to snap it shut. God, that voice. Like chocolate melted in a pot and poured over strawberries. Soft, a little breathy, and the perfect balance between low and high. Cole wanted to curl in a ball and have the cat read him a story. A very sexy story.

Marketo smiled. “Paris lives in New York, but wanted to participate in his sister’s betrothal and wedding, so he’ll be here a few days. I hope you two will get acquainted.”

The guy laughed, every note a symphony. “It only took the tiniest coercion to wile me out of my ivory tower.” He glanced at his father.

Bet there’s a story there. Cole looked at those golden eyes and then quickly glanced back at Marketo. No way was he going to tell Marketo that he and Paris getting acquainted was a very bad idea.

Landon leaned over the table. “Come sit, son.”

Mrs. Marketo jumped up, staring past Cole. “Oh, darling, good, you’re here.”

Cole followed her line of sight and saw Analiese walking toward them. Her eyes were still puffy and she looked strained, but she put on a small smile for her mother.

Paris moved away from the chair he’d been occupying next to Landon, and walked to the other side of the table. Goose bumps rose on Cole’s arms watching the guy move. Panther was right. Shit!

Two chairs were empty at the center of the table. Oh no, talk about on stage. He took a deep breath, smiled, and stepped back to offer Analiese his arm. She gave him a hard look for a second, then seemed to decide he meant nothing by the offer, smiled tightly, and took his arm. God, was even a simple gesture going to be war?

He led her around the table to the open seats that put him next to his father and her next to Marketo. The alphas were beside their wives. Cole glanced down the table. The cat named Paris sat beside his stepmother.

He helped Analiese into her chair and leaned down. “Can I make a plate of food for you?”

A crease appeared between her fair eyebrows. “I can get it myself.”

He sighed as quietly as he could. “I know. I just thought you might like to avoid the crowd.”

Again, he got that direct stare. Assessing. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”

“What do you particularly like? I guess I better find out.” He smiled.

She frowned, then nodded. Lighten up, lady. “I like roast beef quite well.”

“Any other kinds of meat?”

“Turkey.”

“Great.”

He moved back around the table the opposite way from the cat and took a breath before plunging into the crowd. If it had just been for him, he would have waited for the enthusiastic crush at the food table to die down.

He got to the end of the long line. The wolves around him turned and smiled. One male from Marketo pack, who was standing with a pretty female, pointed at the table. “Nice spread. We can have weddings every week if we get food this good.” He laughed.

Cole nodded. What should he say? That he didn’t even want to have one wedding? He didn’t mind chatting with one or two people, but God, he hated being the subject of everybody’s conversation.

A firm hand gripped his forearm. He turned and felt his breath stop.

Paris stood beside him. “I had a friend hold a place in line for us.” That chocolate voice melted down Cole’s spine. Paris looked at the pack members around Cole. “Will you forgive me if I steal him away? He needs to be back with his intended quickly.” He winked and two of the female wolves giggled. He pulled on Cole’s arm. “Come.”

Man, if the guy had just said jump off a building in that voice, he probably would have done it. He followed as Paris led him to the head of the line. A beautiful, young female Marketo wolf stood there staring at Paris as if she’d just seen an angel. Paris kissed her cheek. “Thank you so much, darling.” Melted wolf. The girl about fainted. It was easy to understand why. Paris stepped in front of her and pulled Cole in front of him.

Cole cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

Paris smiled just a little. “You didn’t appear to relish the crowds. Odd for a werewolf, but I sympathize.”

“I’m a little, uh, crowd averse.”

“Tell me about it.” And this time the smile had teeth. Straight, white, with slightly prominent canines. Or in this case, felines. Oh shit, what would a bite from those fangs feel like?

Cole grabbed two plates and began to pile on food. Roast beef, she said, right? Having that cat next to him was giving him a very different kind of appetite and that was not good.

“Don’t forget the turkey.”

Cole looked at him.

The golden eyes glittered. “My sister loves turkey.”

“Oh yes.”

Cole speared a big slice of white meat, then added some vegetables and rice.

He glanced over at Paris, who chose only the rarest cuts of beef and nothing else.

“Not eating your veggies. Uh-uh.” Cole smiled. It was flirtatious, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I’m more of a carnivore than you, wolf.” He smiled again, but it looked more like he was baring his teeth. His eyes started at Cole’s feet and slowly traveled up. “I like my meat raw.”

Damn. He forgot how to breathe.

Paris just stared into Cole’s eyes and never dropped his gaze. Cole gave in first and looked at the floor. Was it hot in here?

He grabbed some flatware and napkins, balanced the two plates, and headed back to the table, leaving Paris to finish his carnivorous activities with others. That feline was full-on dangerous.

He served Analiese, sat, and fell on his food, a good excuse for not talking. People came to the table to wish them well. He smiled, nodded, and chewed. Werewolves understood hunger.

Finally, he’d stuffed all the protein he could get down his throat, and it was time for the official announcements and crap. Could they just do this part without him?

The alphas walked to the middle of the room, and all the pack members turned their chairs toward them.

Landon smiled. “Since this is Harker Pack Hall, allow me to speak first and say how honored we are to have Pack Marketo with us here. I don’t have to tell any of you how valuable an alliance between our packs can be to all concerned, and sealing that alliance with a marriage is the wolf way. We’re all deeply moved that Pack Leader Merced and his beautiful wife, Trixie, would entrust their lovely and accomplished daughter to our son in marriage.”

God, he was good. Landon handled that crowd like each pack member was a personal friend. Who wouldn’t love him? Cole’s tongue got tight. Mouth claustrophobia.

Landon talked a little more, then turned over the floor to Marketo.

The alpha stepped to the center of the floor. “Thank you, and welcome Pack Harker and Pack Marketo.” He had a different style. A bit more formal, gruff, but totally in command. As he talked, he asked that a stand be brought in with the legal betrothal documents.

Cole’s hands were sweating. Maybe he wouldn’t have to say anything. He let out a long breath. Fat chance. Weird that he was about to sign away his free will, and his biggest fear was public speaking.

As her father talked, Analiese glanced at him with that crease he was getting to know between her eyebrows. She had to feel his jitters. Hell, he could so easily run out that door and just keep running, never look back. He stared back at her. Get over it, female; your betrothed is afraid to talk in groups. He’s a big tongue-tied pussy.

You had to be a gay man when the word pussy made you think of a guy, but he looked at Paris. The cat gazed at him intently. What was he thinking??

Merced Marketo smiled, finished his welcome, and with a grand flourish of his arm called the “happy couple” up to sign the betrothal documents. Cole wanted to put on a good face for the pack. He tried to smile. With an extended hand, he helped Analiese get up and guided her around the table to the small stand in front of her father. God, you could hit a golf ball off her back, it was so stiff. Trixie walked beside them, and Landon and Crystal stepped into the circle as well.

Marketo pointed at the papers lying on the stand. “What we have here is a marriage agreement between Pack Harker and Pack Marketo. The two packs agree to an alliance.” A lot of pack members started to cheer and clap. Marketo nodded and smiled then motioned for silence.

“This agreement says that the alliance will be both symbolized and realized by a marriage between the two clans. In this case, of course, that will be a marriage between my only daughter, the Alphanta Analiese—” More cheering. She nodded but didn’t smile. “—and Pack Leader Harker’s only son, the Alphanta Cole.” He paused while the Harker Pack bellowed. “The alliance is agreed upon by this document but will not be finalized until the legal marriage contract is signed. However, it is in motion!” He gave another flourish and handed a pen to Cole.

The whole place erupted in cheers and applause.

Cole stared down at the paper. All he could see were years of that stiff back and pretended civility and back-alley liaisons. His stomach turned.

“Yay, Cole.” Someone cheered and Cole looked out at the laughing, applauding wolves and let their needs wash over him. For them. Not for him. It was his duty. Deep breath. He leaned over the document, glanced at it with a legal eye though he knew exactly what it said, and signed his name.

When the chips were down, he’d chosen pack.

He turned to Analiese. She was trying. He could see her body shaking but probably none of the pack members could. She took the pen from him and stepped to the stand. She laid her hand holding the pen on the paper—and froze. Her blue eyes got wide. Deer in headlights came to mind. Marketo stepped closer to the stand with a big smile and made a show of putting his hand on the paper to hold it in place as she signed. Cole also saw his very pointed look.

Like automatic writing, her hand moved. Cole glanced down. She’d signed A. P. Marketo. And that was that. A promise was made. His life as a gay man was over, or at least seriously compromised. Someday he’d get over the nausea.

Marketo held up the pen grandly and stepped back with a wave of his arm to Cole. The message was clear. Take the floor and inspire them.

Cole felt his eyes widen. Shit. Landon hadn’t told Marketo that Cole’s oratory couldn’t inspire a raccoon.

Cotton bloomed in his mouth like the fields of Tara. He could try thinking of them all in their underwear like they always told people who were afraid of speaking. Except most of these wolves didn’t wear underwear, and he’d already seen a lot of them naked.

Eyes. Eyes all over the room stared at him. Some looked compassionate. Some Harker wolves knew he was a man of few words and suspected his fear. But the Marketos looked expectant and a little challenging. Show us something.

He opened his mouth. “Uh, uh….” He swallowed. “I, uh….”

Oh God. He would vomit.

That voice like honeyed chocolate came from behind him. “I think Cole is shy of expressing his feelings at a milestone such as this. So perhaps he’ll let me share the thoughts he told me earlier.” The golden gaze leveled at Cole, and his beautiful lips curved in a small smile.

What the fuck had he told the cat earlier? Nothing. Hell. But no way was he getting words out of this Sahara of a throat, so whatever the feline said would be better than this. He nodded.

Paris stepped to the center of the circle. All the eyes moved to him. Who wouldn’t watch him?

“Cole said that even though he just met my sister, he already feels a great kinship with her. They’re both alphanta and value the well-being of the pack above all things.” The crowd murmured. Approval for sure. “At the same time, he knows of her exceptional personal gifts—her intelligence, talent, charm. And he knows what a great partnership they can have sharing their skills and passions on behalf of the new alliance.” That brought a cheer. Cole didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. All he wanted to do was listen to that silky tenor.

Paris put on a small smile. Naughty schoolboy. Devastating. “And then he whispered to me that she was a pretty gorgeous female with a seriously, hmmm, hot body and he was going to be the envy of every wolf on both sides of the Atlantic. I know I should have beaten him up for leering at my sister, but he does outweigh me by a hundred pounds.” He stared at Cole with wide eyes, grinned, and a huge wolf howl went up from the group. Paris laughed as they calmed down. “Altogether, he thinks he’s a pretty lucky wolf.”

What had the guy done? Saved his fucking ass, that’s what. Why? No idea. Maybe to make sure the pack didn’t think Marketo had made a bad deal?

Cole breathed deeply and cleared his throat. “Uh, couldn’t have said that better myself.” Man, was that the truth. Cole grabbed Analiese’s limp hand and reached toward the ceiling. Everyone cheered. The pack leaders beamed. Home effing free thanks to one confusing cat.

Chapter Four

Keep moving. Keep moving. Get as far away from that pack of wolves as possible.

Paris walked five steps and paused, then took two more slow steps and stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Yes, he wanted to get away, but his skin was on fire, his balls too full, and his damned cock had taken up a permanent half-mast condition. That’s because there was one wolf he didn’t want to get away from at all.

Move, feline. Thou shalt not covet thy sister’s gay fiancé. He took two more steps.

Merde. The wolf was gay. What were these insane canines doing marrying a gay male to his sister? How to wreck both their lives in one easy step.

“Hey!”

The big voice came from behind him. He didn’t even have to look. He already had goose bumps on his prick. He turned slowly.

Cole, the ridiculously sexy werewolf, walked toward him. Dear God, look at that. He must be six four or more. Powerful but not bulky, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His face would have been classically handsome, chiseled like some movie star, if it weren’t surrounded by the thick silver mane that screamed “wolf.” And, of course, the eyes. Humans had to feel how supernatural he was, even if they didn’t have a clue that werewolves existed. Paris understood that “otherness” down to the ground. It made you special. It made you alone.

Cole stopped a few paces away. Good, because Paris was likely to bite.

“Hey, I didn’t know if I’d see you again and I wanted to say thanks for, uh, you know.”

Paris laughed. He was cute. “Saving your hot ass?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, not hot, but bailing me out.” He cocked his handsome head. “Why did you do it?”

“You were tongue-tied. I couldn’t let you just stand there and wither.”

The lights from a car passing on the highway reflected off Cole’s silver eyes. And Cole probably saw the gold in his.

Cole narrowed those eyes. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why couldn’t you let me wither?”

Well, that was a helluva question. “No idea.”

Cole looked down at his feet and shuffled a little. “I guess you’re a Marketo too and want to see the alliance work.”

Paris shrugged. “I don’t care shit about the alliance. I think it’s a recipe for disaster to marry my sister off to a gay husband.”

“But the pack—”

“Ah, there you see. I detest big piles of furry wolves.” He cocked his head. “You know what I am?”

“Yes.”

“My father told you?”

“I smelled you first, then he told me how you happened to have been born.”

Paris raised an eyebrow. “Ah. Happened to have been born. A fitting appraisal for a freak of nature.”

Cole frowned. “I didn’t mean that. Hell, you’re a phenomenon more than a freak.”

Paris gave a little twirl like a ballet dancer. “Ah yes, I like that much more.”

“But you’re still half wolf.”

“Yes, and I wish wolves well, but all of them together give me the heebie-jeebies.” He laughed. “As a small child, I shifted early and turned straight to panther. That’s when my father decided I’d better not grow up with the pack and sent me to school. I came home on holidays but never spent much time with the pack. Most of them don’t even know what I am.”

“So you grew up with humans?”

He blew out his breath. “Yes. I had no one to show me how to be a panther. There aren’t many panther shifters on this continent. But instincts are wonderful. Besides, you don’t have to learn a lot to be alone.” Hell, this line of discussion was not sexy at all. “I live my panther life away from all that wolfiness.”

“So we’re back to the question. If pack means so little to you, and you think this marriage is ridiculous, why did you bail me out?”

Paris took a step forward and Cole stepped back. He smiled. Scaredy wolf. “I suppose it could have something to do with the fact that I wouldn’t mind a big pile of wolf at all if it was you on top of me.”

Cole’s silvery eyes widened. “You’re gay.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, but I’m sure you already knew that. With your famous sense of smell, can’t you detect my attraction to you?”

Cole’s head kind of moved in a circle. “No, uh, kind of. I’m not used to cat smell. It throws me off.”

“Do you find it unappealing? My smell?”

“Uh, no, not really.”

Paris stalked forward two more steps. Cole mirrored the move backward. Paris laughed. “If we keep this up, we’ll be back in the meeting hall, dancing.” He stuck out a hip. Teasing this wolf was just too much fun. “You can lead.” He took another step.

Cole stood his ground but held up a hand. “This is weird. I just got engaged to your sister.”

“Surely you’re not planning on being faithful to a person to whom you’re not even attracted?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” The pup was damned confused. He shook his head. “I’m not the unfaithful type.”

Well that was a little spike to the heart. The boy told the truth. This was a big, honest, faithful, true creature. Why in the hell was Paris attracted to him? He didn’t do earnest. “Nature’s a bitch. If there was any justice in the world, you’d be straight and irresistible to Analiese and the two of you would live happily ever after.”

Cole nodded and looked quickly at his feet.

Were those tears behind his luminous eyes? Damn, the guy was sweet. Still, this was not an amusement park ride.

Paris crossed his arms. “But the fact is, you’re gay. Sex with my sister is not going to do it for you, and I seriously doubt that you’re made of celibate stuff.” Paris walked closer and Cole stared. “So why not keep it in the family? I’ll be happy to drop these Armani trousers right here, bend myself over that available tree branch, and show that cock of yours where it was meant to be.”

Cole’s throat worked and he pulled his suit coat closed.

Paris grinned and stepped closer. “Don’t hide, baby wolf. Show me the goods.”

Cole shook his head.

“Aww. Let me see.” Paris reached out and pulled up the edge of Cole’s jacket. Ah yes, a fine wool tent. He grinned. “So you like that idea a lot.” He stepped in close. The wolf had inches on him, but he was hanging his head. Good.

Come to daddy. He took one more step, rose up, and captured Cole’s mouth with his. The big body went rigid. Paris wrapped a hand around Cole’s neck, then pulled his mouth a tiny bit looser so he could slide his wet tongue across the wolf’s slightly parted lips, back and forth.

“Mmmmffff.” Cole pressed his lips tighter.

Paris kept caressing. Oh my, wolfy tasted so wonderful. Like a forest and ice cream all at once. He sighed and pressed the tip of his tongue harder against the seam of Cole’s mouth. A soft little “ummmm” escaped.

Everything happened at once.

Cole pulled away and yelled, “Shit!”

Whoa! Then Cole’s hand whipped out, ripped Paris off his feet, and pressed that pretty mouth right where he wanted it. Well, one of the places. Tongue, teeth, heaven. But he was dangling with his very expensive loafers in the air. And he knew just what to do with his legs. He wrapped them tight around Cole’s hard, slim waist and swallowed that tongue as far into his throat as he could get it. Oh damn, damn.

Growls and moans rumbled around them. From whom? Who cared? If he could eat the guy alive, he’d do it.

He had to get closer. But pressing tighter just got his cock rubbing against Cole’s waist. He couldn’t quite get to the guy’s dick. Damn. Frustrating. He slipped his hands into Cole’s silky, silver hair and slid one leg down that hard werewolf ass. Closer. Closer. Almost there.

Cole sucked Paris’ tongue hard and deep. The boy knew what he was doing when he got down to it. Paris slid his hips until their cocks made contact. Oh God, huge and hot and—

Down! Crap. Falling. Untethered from his partner, he dropped like a stone, and hit the asphalt on his ass. Ouch.

“Unnnnnh.” Cole half moaned and half screamed as he turned tail and ran across the parking lot, onto the grass, and into the trees. Clothes went flying. Cole’s jacket landed on the edge of the lot next to a BMW.

Well, damn. Paris pushed himself up off the ground. Ow. He didn’t have enough meat to take a fall that hard. Cats were supposed to land on their feet, not their asses. That was one freaked werewolf.

Rubbing his butt, he walked slowly across the lot and picked up the suit coat. Cole might regret the loss of such a nice suit tomorrow. A white shirt lay a few feet farther on the grass. He picked it up, then followed his night vision into the trees, where the trousers lay. Poor guy. Where would he end up with no clothes to wear?

He picked up the pants. His nose twitched, and he held the soft gabardine fabric against his cheek and inhaled deeply. Wolf and man seeped inside his nose, his head, out his limbs, then dive—straight to his cock. A very unsatisfied cock.

Stupid. Never set out to fuck a sincere werewolf.

* * *

Pine, cedar, grass, earth. Rabbit! Pine, decaying leaves, ants, crickets, frog, frog. Dew, mist, earth, earth. Fast, run, fast, faster. Wait. Slow, slow. Home. Slow, home.

Fire! Heat, ow, ow, pain. Shit. Naked.

Cole lay on the damp grass outside his home. The shift-fire felt like your basic bath in acid. Damn. He had to calm down. Every inch of skin hurt. His joints screamed. But that wasn’t the only thing screaming.

He raised his head and sighted down his body. Sinew, muscle and one very prominent flagpole blocked his view of the trees. How the hell could that—that damned erection—have survived twenty wolf miles of flat-out speed and two screaming seconds of shifting agony?

Oh crap! He had to get rid of it. Walking into his house nude with a tentpole between his legs wasn’t an option.

He grabbed his hot, rigid meat and began to pump. Don’t think. Just come. Just come. Forget how you got this way. Forget those bright, laughing cat eyes and the hard ass waving in your face. That one second of amazing cock connection. Don’t think about it. Just come, damn it. Come. Pump, pump. His hands tightened and stroked, hand over hand. Squeeze hard. Harder. Harder. Shit, yes. Shoot it. Straight down that damn cat’s throat. Shoot it. Yes. Yes!

Spunk spurted from his cock, flew into the air, and splattered all over his abdomen and chest as it landed.

His breath came in pants, from running as a wolf and jerking off as a stupid-ass man. Oh great. Now he got to sneak into the house naked and covered in jism. He took a deep breath and rolled on the lawn like the big dog he was.

Finally, covered in the bits of grass now stuck to his cum, he crossed the lawn and headed up the back stairs to his suite of rooms. They’d added the staircase for him when he became a man. Some man he was. Couldn’t even decide his own future and stick with it.

He made it down the short hall, into his big bedroom, and had piled his bare ass into the shower before he smelled Landon and heard movement in the bathroom.

At least he didn’t have to explain why he was shifting in Connecticut.

“Hey Cole, sorry to bother you, but your door was open and your mother and I were a little worried when you disappeared.”

Okay, explain that. He turned off the water, grabbed a towel from the high rack above the glass surround, and wrapped himself in it. What? You think your father can tell just by looking that you’ve been whacking off over a damned panther?

He stepped out and grabbed another towel for his hair. “I went out to thank Paris Marketo for bailing me out. That was a pretty amazing thing for him to do.”

Landon cocked his head. “You mean you two didn’t work that out in advance?”

Cole shook his head, then scrubbed his wet hair with the towel.

“Interesting.”

“Anyway, we talked for a while and I decided I’d just leave.”

His father’s expression held a world of diplomacy. It didn’t suggest that he knew that Paris was gay and so was Cole and what the fuck happened when they were “talking.” It just made Cole squirm. God, why couldn’t he be that good at politics?

“So tomorrow night is the bachelor party.”

Cole sighed. “Yeah. But it’s for males and females together, so how is it different from tonight?”

Landon smiled. “No parents.”

Cole walked to the mirror and ran a brush through his chin-length hair. It looked brown more than silver when it was wet; then, as it dried, it got fuller and wilder and shone in the light. “So is that what you wanted? Just to see where I went?” There was a little accusation in his question.

“No. I want you to come to Stony Ridge in the morning. We need your nose and tracking skills. The Eliazers keep moving their encampments, and we have to know how many there are and how armed they are. I can probably do the numbers, but I can’t smell weapons as well as you.”

“No problem. I want to come.” Maybe a good day in the woods would get the smell of cat out of his nose.

* * *

Cole stood by the cars at the edge of the clearing with five other males and watched his father come out of the trees with his team. He and Landon had the best noses in the pack, so they’d split up. Hopefully, his father’s findings were less scary than his.

He nodded toward Landon as the big men approached, all in dull-green clothing designed to blend into the foliage. “How’d it go?”

Landon shook his head. “I smelled at least three different groups of wolves that had been there. Probably five or more males to a group. A couple humans, but I think they were just hunters who happened through that area. What about you?”

“At least fifteen individuals, all armed. I think mostly hunting-style rifles and handguns. I figure they wanted plausible deniability if someone caught them. They could always say they were hunters. And the handguns can be hidden.”

Landon frowned. “If Eliazer can spare that many males to infiltrate this little territory, he must be better manned than I thought.”

Mike, a big wolf, stepped forward. “Why the hell does he want this land that bad? I mean, I understand him needing a little more space for his wolves, but this is more serious.”

Landon nodded. “Most of his territory is urban. He’s a gangster. Drugs and weapons. He may want running space.”

Mike’s big blue eyes widened. “But you don’t let us run this close to home. It’s too dangerous.”

“Right. But it’s not close to their home.”

Cole frowned. “Maybe that’s part of his plan. If he can cause our pack to be discovered by humans and killed as wolves, he can take over most of Connecticut. That would give him city and country territory. It would attract a lot of wolves. Grow his pack.”

“Make the rat respectable.” Landon squared his shoulders. “But this is just conjecture. Let’s get on with the alliance. We’re known as an independent pack. Eliazer won’t expect us to ally with Marketo. And with our two packs and Cole’s special talents, he’ll have a tough time trying to bring us down.” He started walking toward his truck.

“By the way, Dad.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t be sure, but I think some of the weapons I smelled were ones that were in that car the other night.”

“I thought you said those were humans.”

“They were. But the males I smelled in the forest weren’t human.”

“Odd. Maybe Eliazer bought the guns from humans?” He shook his head, then walked over and put an arm around Cole’s shoulders. “Let’s get you to that party. You don’t want to be late.”

Want to bet?

Chapter Five

Oh God. Center of attention again. Cole angled his way through the crowd gathered on the porch of the Way Station. He got big smiles and handshakes of welcome from both Harker and Marketo wolves. The groups seemed to be mingling, which was good. He could sure use a beer.

He pushed the door open. Slammed by heat and sound, he backed out and took a deep breath. One more time. He opened the door again and stepped inside. A big Marketo wolf plowed into him.

“Hey, watch—oh, sorry, Cole. Too noisy in here. I think the females are making the most racket.”

Sure enough, female screams of “Take it off, baby” and “Kiss her again” pitched over the lower bass of the band.

Cole peered over the other wolf’s head. “What the hell is going on?”

“The she-wolves have a couple of the guys up on the stage and are egging them on to perform.”

Cole nodded. The packs had rented the club for the night. The par-tay seemed to be in full swing without him.

A hand grabbed his arm. Even in the big crowd, he could pick out the friendly smell. Lindsey. He turned. “Hi.”

“Hi, darling.” Linds gave him a kiss on both cheeks, then held out his hands. “So where is the fabled fiancée?”

“Be nice. Actually, I called her and suggested we should arrive together, but I’m told she wants to come on her own with some girlfriends or something. Isn’t she here?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Any chance of getting near the bar?”

“For the Lancelot of werewolves who is saving the pack from annihilation? But of course.” He swept a bow toward the watering hole.

“Galahad.”

“Excuse me?”

“Lancelot fucked Guinevere and split up the kingdom, remember?”

“Oh right. Still could happen.” He grabbed Cole’s elbow. “Come on, Galahad.”

As predicted, the sea of wolves parted for the conquering hero, and he got a beer with little effort.

He stepped away from the bar to let seven anxious drinkers get into his place. The wolves were howling. Even though their high metabolism burned up alcohol fast, the young canines seemed to be challenging their adrenals to keep up with them. “Rowdy crowd.”

Lindsey sipped a martini. “I think they’re celebrating not having to fight Eliazer’s pack. That’s premature, if you ask me. And I think the females on both sides are pretty happy to have some new blood in the ranks.”

A change in the noise behind him made him turn. Analiese walked toward him with three other females. They were all good-looking, as females went, but Analiese was the pick of the litter.

Cole walked toward her and held out a hand. “Hi. Come meet my best friend.” She let him take her hand and moved over toward Lindsey. “Analiese Marketo, may I present Lindsey Vanessen.” Cole placed her hand in Linds’s and he bowed over it for a kiss. Too much!

When he stood back up, she raised an eyebrow and looked him over, from his Italian shoes to his lavender silk neck scarf. “I would have guessed that you two would be best friends. I’m sure Cole admires you greatly, Lindsey.”

Lindsey froze for only a heartbeat, but Cole saw it. The bitch sounded polite and charming to everyone around, but the nasty glitter in her eyes said she thought they were both flaming queens.

Lindsey smiled. “Yes, well, it’s lovely to be someone Cole has chosen.”

Her smile faded. She turned to Cole. “Get me a drink, please. Vodka martini on the rocks with a twist.”

Lindsey put a hand onto Cole’s arm. “Oh, darling, allow me.”

With a definite sway to his hips, Lindsey pushed through the crowd toward the bar.

The PA system squeaked. “Okay folks, grab your drinks and get settled, because we’ve got some red-hot entertainment for both the men and the ladies tonight. Show starts in three minutes.”

Should he call Analiese on her snarkiness? Linds had done a pretty good job on his own. Maybe just leave it alone. “Shall we get a seat?”

She nodded but wouldn’t meet his eyes. Good. Maybe she felt embarrassed for being mean to Cole’s friend.

“Hey, Cole. Over here.” Jim Joyner stood down in front of the many rows of seats set up at the foot of the small stage. “Here are seats for you.”

Cole led Analiese down the aisle and took the two seats in the front row that Jim pointed to. “Thanks.”

The band had switched to background music because they couldn’t compete with the clamor of the happy, drunk wolves. One Marketo wolf—Eddie something—leaned over with a heavy hand on Cole’s shoulder. He put his other hand on Analiese. She glared at it, but he didn’t catch the signal. “Wha shoo are doing is so cool, and I want you to know thatsh so cool and all us woofs appreesiates it.”

Cole patted his hand. “Thanks, buddy.” Gently, he disengaged the guy’s hand from Analiese, and Eddie went staggering toward his seat a few rows back.

Analiese brushed her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Of course.”

The music got louder and the crowd quieted a decibel or two.

The announcer came on. “Annnnnnd now for the gentlemen in the house, we have our own sister of sin, the treasure of tease, the only girl guaranteed to tame the big bad wolf—Little Red.”

Cole tensed. The announcer was human. What did he know?

Out on the stage strutted a tall, redheaded female who was definitely a she-wolf. Good, she’d probably given the announcer his patter. He’d only read it. A howl went up from the males as she slithered around the stage, strategically dropping goodies from her basket piece by piece. Not bad-looking, with an opulent body to please either a human or a wolf. A straight wolf, that is.

Through the magic of Velcro, she managed to get her dress off while leaving on her cape and hood. The red fabric flapped around her body, showing glimpses of pasties on her big boobs and a tiny G-string under her garter belt and stockings.

The announcer yelled over the howling and screaming. “There’s one really bad boy in the group, and Little Red has to punish him.” Hmm. They seem to have their fairy tales mixed.

Red danced her way down the center steps to the stage and headed straight for Cole. No, they mixed up their fairies.

The guys went crazy as Red straddled Cole’s lap and leaned forward, opened her cape, and shimmied her boobs in his face.

“Ahhhhoooooooo.”

“Whoop-whoop.”

“Go get him, Little Red.”

Okay, if he played along this would all go away. He threw his hands in the air as if pleading for mercy and surrender. Everyone laughed. Little Red gyrated on his lap. She leaned over and stage whispered, “Ooooh, what big, uh, teeth you have. All the better for me to eat you with.” She made a great show of chewing on his neck.

Cole glanced at Analiese, who sat in stony silence with her arms crossed and head pointedly turned away. He looked up at Red and made eye motions like get up or my girlfriend will kill me.

She caught on and finally hopped off him and moved on to another candidate. She ended her act by whipping off the cape and tossing cookies in the shape of cocks into the audience. Clearly, she must have developed those for humans. The wolves would have done better with beef jerky.

He leaned toward Analiese. “Sorry. That must have been somebody’s idea of bachelor party fare. Shall we—”

The announcer rumbled, “And nooooow, something for the ladies.”

Cole glanced at Analiese, but she looked as confused as he was.

The lights got very low and a mist crept across the stage. Some instrument like a flute started to play. Where the hell did that come from?

Something moved in the mist. Undulated, prowled.

The announcer’s voice got soft. “Straight from New York City….”

The flute got louder as a dark but shining arm broke through the mist and gyrated like something between a bird and a snake. It vanished. A bare leg, also sparkling, appeared, the foot pointed and revolving; then another leg flashed up and seemed to capture the first and pull it down. A few laughs sounded through the room, but otherwise the rowdy wolves were silent. Amazing.

The announcer did his big pitch. “…Annnnthony.”

Analiese shifted in her seat. “I don’t like this.”

“Why?”

“Because—”

Oh God. The creature arched up into the light, his black hair falling down a bare back and his perfect profile outlined against the black backdrop.

She hissed between her teeth. “Because my damned brother is an exotic dancer and apparently couldn’t wait to embarrass me in front of my friends. I’m going to the restroom.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Cole couldn’t stand up for her. Too busy trying to breathe.

Paris leaped up into the light, his sinuous body coated in black, glittering body paint like stars at midnight.

Crash. The flute drowned in a cacophony of hard rock music as Paris flew into the air and grabbed a pole that had barely been visible against the black backdrop.

On one arm and foot, he spun around the pole. Wolves gasped and murmured. Wow. Just wow.

And the body. Sweet God. Lean. Every muscle like its own private work of art, but not made of marble. More like silk, swirling and flowing around the pole. He circled to the ground, lifted himself into a handstand, and bent backward. Oh man. A nice, hard mound of cock outlined against the soft light. A woman behind Cole gasped, and a couple giggled.

What the hell was he wearing under that paint? Maybe some kind of black G-string and nothing else. Cole wiped his hands on his pants.

Paris flipped in front circles across the stage, grabbed the pole again, and twined his way to the top, upside down.

And then he did it.

Both legs separated in a wide split, showing off that package like the crown jewels. He slid down the pole a few feet, stretching out his legs in a V. Holy crap. Paris wasn’t trying to embarrass Analiese. He wanted to teach her fiancée a lesson about what it took to turn him on. And shit, baby, this was it. If he didn’t get out of there, he’d come in his pants. But no way he could leave. His erection was taking over the planet. Everyone would see it.

His cock throbbed and his balls felt too heavy, ready to blow. This was so bad. He slipped a hand into his lap and tried to apply pressure to his cockhead through his slacks. Strangle the damned thing. Cut it off when all it wanted was to jump on that stage and push itself into that cat’s ass. Any werewolf in the room with half a nose could probably smell his lust. Except maybe his scent got lost in the smell of throbbing pussy from all the females drooling over the cat. And the disgusting thing was, he felt jealous of them looking at Paris! He was so screwed.

Paris twined to the floor, legs apart, then flipped and landed in a split. He pressed his chest to the ground so his perfect and perfectly bare ass faced the audience. And then, with just the strength of his ass muscles, he pulled that butt up like a target. God, Cole could practically see his hole. Or at least he dreamed he could. It had to stop. Let it stop.

Crash. The music crescendoed. Paris upended into a handstand, came to his feet, bowed low, and ran off the stage.

All around him the wolves were panting. Not just the females. The level of pheromones in the room would have propagated the rain forest. Sex on a stick.

Cole couldn’t move. His hard-on pressed like a flagpole between his legs, and he’d never walk again. He could hear males whispering propositions to the females. The woods around this club were going to be busy tonight. If he could just get to the men’s room and jerk off—but no suit coat could cover King Kong down there.

Lindsey slipped into the seat beside him. “Well, that was pretty colossal.” He cocked his head. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Uh-uh. This is Lindsey you’re talking to. I can spy that Olympic-record erection.” He laughed.

Cole glanced around. “Shh.”

“Where’s Her Nibs?”

Oh hell. Where was Analiese? “Embarrassed by her brother. She said she was going to the restroom.”

“So that’s the brother.” Linds glanced over his shoulder. “She must have fallen in.”

“I should check on her.”

Lindsey pointed to Cole’s crotch. “Just send him, why don’t you?”

What the hell. He laughed.

“I’ve never seen you react to any male like you do to that feline. I will admit, he is one adorable piece of ass if you like them waaay pretty.”

Cole shrugged. “I guess I kind of do.”

“Convenient, his being in the same family.”

Cole’s back stiffened. “No, I can’t do that. Hell, I can barely stand the idea of cheating with some nondescript human to get my rocks off. I can’t”—he lowered his voice—“fuck her brother.”

Lindsey held up a hand. “I know. I’m kidding.” His smile faded. “But it is a shame to finally find someone you really get off on, only to have to walk away from him for this stupid sham of a wedding.”

God, it felt like his insides were pushing out through his chest. “I know.” He shook his head. “But it’s probably just as well. That cat is trouble.”

“So, you look up to walking.”

Cole nodded. Thinking about the wedding was a sure way to get rid of a hard-on.

“Want to check on your lady love?”

“Be nice.”

“Always.”

Chapter Six

Cole got up. His cock felt like somebody had strangled it with a steel wire. He shook his legs, trying to get some circulation back. He must have been frozen the whole time Paris was dancing. Better not think about that.

He slid out of the now empty row of chairs and walked toward the front door of the club to where the restrooms were. Not so many wolves around. Paris-inspired backseat fucking had taken them all away, no doubt. A picture of that guy in the parking lot thrusting out his hip and asking Cole to lead made him stop dead. Shit. He had to survive seeing Paris again at the wedding, and then the cat would go away and maybe he’d never see him again. And that made him want to cry or scream. He put one foot in front of the other.

The scene in the entry was weird. A group of Marketo wolves gathered in a huddle, whispering. A couple of female Marketos stood on the outskirts of the huddle with their arms crossed and petulant expressions on their faces. But he smelled fear. Come on, guys, no fair. All one big happy family.

He stepped up to the group. “Hey. What’s going on? Anything I can help with?” As the alphanta of Harker, and the groom-to-be, he had much seniority, and this pack of Marketos knew it. But they reeked of panic.

Cole smiled. “Come on, we’re almost pack. You can tell me.”

The most senior of them shook his head. “No disrespect, Alphanta, but I need to talk with our alpha.”

One of the other wolves stepped up to his senior. “But that will take some time, and it could be too late. Tell him now.”

Cole frowned. A couple of guys shifted their feet and turned their heads submissively. They knew alpha when they saw it. “What should you tell me?”

A sassy little bitch werewolf stepped up. “Oh my God, you guys, just tell him she’s gone, for God’s sake.”

What the hell? “You mean Analiese? Where did she go?”

The senior wolf finally showed some backbone and looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry to report, Alphanta, that the Alphanta Marketo seems to have, uh, run away.”

A crowd was gathering. Cole stared around at a lot of confused faces. “What do you mean ‘run away’? Where the hell did she go?”

The female shouldered past the big male. “She ran off to be with her lover. She said don’t look for her and no way is she coming back, so just figure out this whole alliance thing without her.”

Hysteria. Wolves who a moment before were laughing drunkenly got very, very sober fast. They knew what “no alliance” meant. And so did he. War, death, or at least diminished means. Bad news for all.

Lindsey took his arm. “I’m truly sorry, Cole.”

Cole looked at the female, who was slinking away, now that several wolves appeared ready to kill the messenger. “Wait.” She turned back, but her sulky face looked really scared. “This lover is someone she’s known a long time?”

She nodded.

“Do you know who?”

She shook her head. “I never met him. He’s human.”

More hysteria. “What?”

“How could she do this?”

“She’s alphanta?”

“The bitch, I could kill her.”

The female cowered. Cole took her arm. “It’s all right. Not your fault.” He raised his voice. “And it’s not, uh, Alphanta Analiese’s fault either.” Oh crap. Instant panic. Cotton in the throat. All those faces staring at him. He couldn’t. He had to try. “It’s, uh, not reasonable—” He gasped for breath. “It’s—”

A milk chocolate voice came from behind him. “It’s not reasonable to ask a modern female to give up her lover for politics, no matter how valuable the alliance.” Paris stepped up beside Cole, body paint replaced by a slim gray designer suit. “Think about it. What would you do if someone told you to give up your beloved to live your life with someone else whom you barely know? It’s easy to say, ‘Let the alphantas do it.’ But they’re no different from the rest of us, really. Just more dedicated. Is it fair to ask such a price, even of an alphanta?”

A voice came from the crowd. “But Cole was prepared to do it.”

Cole shook his head.

Paris nodded. “He’s not in love with someone else.”

The male’s eyes got wide, and he pointed at Cole. “Yes, but you’re—”

“Hsss.” Paris actually bared his teeth and hissed. That shut the wolf up. “Yes, but—he’s a dedicated leader who will do a lot for his pack. Still, it’s not even fair to ask it of him.” He took hold of Cole’s arm. It might look protective, but the heat from those tight fingers made a beeline south. “Go home. The news has no doubt already traveled to the alphas. Maybe they’ll decide to confirm the alliance without a marriage. It’s in good hands. Go home.”

Paris raised those gold eyes to him. “And you, my wolf, come with me.”

Cole pulled back and glanced around. Everybody knew or suspected he was gay, even though they ignored it. He was being led away by an obviously gay guy. They were going to think the worst. Besides, he needed to get to Landon and Crystal and figure out what the hell to do now.

He glanced at the other wolves, then stared at Paris. The male was a dream walking.

Well, shit, the truth was the truth. He was gay, he’d just been rejected by a female, and Paris wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to Cole—he was the best. The alphas had made up this alliance shit without him. They could do it again.

He fell in beside Paris, the guy’s hand still tightly clutching his arm.

They hurried through a side door and into the kitchen. Empty, thank God. Paris pulled him around the prep tables and out the exterior door into the cool night air. Then he broke into a run. Cole loped beside him. “Where are we going?”

Paris nodded toward the trees.

Cole took a deep breath. Yes, oxygen. The sounds of night.

Paris broke through the trees and just kept running. These were the trees Cole figured all the wolves would be fucking in after Paris’s dance. Fucking. That sounded way too good.

Finally Paris stopped in a tiny clearing surrounded by huge oak trees and some newly flowering shrubs. Moonlight filtered through branches. Magic. The cat wasn’t even breathing hard. Cole was, but not from running. Watching Paris move was like porno art. Cole shrugged off his suit coat and hung it over a branch, then pulled off his tie.

Paris purred. “I like the way this is going.”

Cole smiled but speared Paris with his eyes. They were probably glittering in the moonlight just like the cat’s were. “Did you know anything about this?”

Paris grabbed a few leaves on a bush and pulled them toward him, then let them snap back. “About Analiese’s disappearing? No. I barely know her. She’d never confide in me. But I did sense that she was a lot more upset than my parents were admitting.”

“Yeah. I got that too. What do you think they’ll do now? This alliance isn’t a joke.”

“So I gather.” He looked up, and the moon shone off his irises. “I’ve heard bad things about Eliazer. He comes into the club where I dance. Leaves me big tips. Gives me the creeps.”

“No shit.” Cole took a few steps toward Paris. “You need to be careful. He’s dangerous.”

Paris shrugged and leaned against a low-hanging branch. “I’m just an exotic dancer. No skin in the game.” He laughed. “Just a lot of skin on the pole.”

“How did you happen to become a, uh, dancer?”

Paris frowned. “I got a degree in political science from Georgetown. But I’m a frigging panther. I hate groups.”

“You’re one hell of a natural politician.”

He sighed. “I know. Feline. Naturally sneaky. Able to charm my way in to the best meal or place in the sunshine.” He twisted himself around the branch and, man, did that bring back memories of his dance earlier.

“You remind me of your father. He’s a good politician too.”

Paris frowned. A lot. “I’m not like him. I’m just like my mother.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but how do you know? Didn’t she die when you were born?”

He speared Cole with his glistening gaze. “Yes. But people have told me. And I just know.”

“People? You mean your father?”

Paris ripped at some leaves, batting them like a cat. “Yes, but I know I’m like her without being told. I look like her and I—feel like her.”

Whoa. Emotional topic for the feline. Cole leaned against a tree truck. “You don’t like groups, but isn’t your dancing a big group thing? All those humans screaming for your body.”

Paris raised his fine, arched brows. “It’s like being alone in the middle of a crowd. Everyone looks, nobody touches.”

“Why do you do it? Your pack is well off. Good businesses and income, I’m sure.”

“Spoken like a lawyer. And you’re determined to find out about me, aren’t you?”

Cole shrugged. “You interest me.”

The cat’s lips twitched up. “And I’d never want to discourage your interest.” He slipped off his jacket, leaving him in a soft white shirt that gleamed almost as much as his pale skin. “I don’t like being dependent. I get huge tips for my dancing. The club is high-end, exclusive, and I have an agreement with management. Nobody puts their hands on me. I’m unique enough that I can demand that and get it.”

“I’ll say. Do they know what you are?”

He shook his head. “The owners are human.”

Cole took hold of a branch a few feet from Paris. “Do you think the alliance will stand?”

He shrugged. “Hard to say. I know everyone hopes so, so I hope so too.”

Cole pulled his eyebrows together. “But you don’t really care.”

Paris looked up sharply. “Yes, I care. I care about my parents. They’ve been good to me and I owe them a lot. I’m a freak by wolf standards, and my father has never abjured me. I honestly believe he kept me separate for my well-being more than his own. He acknowledges me as his son even though I remind him of his greatest sorrow.”

“Your panther mother.”

He nodded. “And Trixie isn’t a brave female. My existence is difficult for her, but she’s been nothing but good to me. She had to stand against the combined disapproval of a lot of other females for me. They didn’t know what I was, but they knew I was Merced’s first wife’s son. They weren’t kind. She was. I value her and want the best.”

Cole nodded. If there was one thing he understood, it was loyalty.

“And then there’s you.”

Cole glanced up. Look at that mischievous face. He’d switched from deeply serious to court jester in one second flat.

“What about me?” He grinned.

The cat danced around his tree, unfastening buttons on his shirt with intricate skill. “You want the alliance and I want you. Isn’t that an Aristotelian principle? If A equals B and B equals C, then Paris wants Cole to have his alliance so Paris can have Cole’s big yummy cock in his ass. An ass, I might add, that’s been throbbing like a voodoo drum since I first looked in your silver eyes, wolfman.” He whipped off the shirt, leaving his upper body bare.

Wow. Even knowing what was coming, that sight was hard to believe. The cat’s skin glowed in the moonlight like so much alabaster formed into a work of art. If you liked bulky, you wouldn’t like Paris. But if the look of a black leopard stealing along a branch stilled your heart, this sight would do it for you down to the ground. Not really slim. More like lean, with muscles just where they should be, but as if they were made of silk rather than stone. Fluid.

Paris reached and grabbed a branch, then pulled himself up one-armed until he leaned over the wood on his belly. Flip. He circled and came up to sitting, his upper body glowing and long legs dangling. He spread his arms out for a second as if balancing on a tightrope. Then he reached in and started to unfasten his belt. Slowly, he slipped it from his trousers, then swung it over his head until it caught on an upper branch.

He pulled himself to standing and used one hand to slowly lower his fly.

White showed in the gap. Oh my. Not white underwear. White skin. Cole shuddered. He wasn’t used to this kind of sexy. Hell, who was? This cat was one of a kind.

Paris wiggled his hips and the pants started to descend. Lower. Lower. Oops, they got caught on a prominent appendage. He grinned, did a big hip roll and a bump. The fabric flew off its sticking point and fell unencumbered. Shee—it.

Cole stared at the very erect cock sticking out from between those slim haunches. He licked his lips. He never wanted much in his life, at least not for himself. But damn, this he wanted.

Paris started a little bob that made his cock dance. “Here, puppy, puppy.”

Yeah, why not. Cole’s body throbbed, and even the fabric of his pants was too much pressure on his cock. Ready to blow. He unfastened his belt as he walked slowly across the clearing to where Paris danced on his branch.

He looked up. “If you want me to suck that thing, you better get it down to lip range.”

Paris danced and laughed. “Oh no, my puppy. You put one fang on this dick and it’s bye-bye, Charlie. I’ll blow so hard, they’ll give me a tropical storm name. I have a better idea.”

He squatted on the branch, with his trousers still pooled around his legs. The position made his cock stick up like a pole between his knees and put one very cute and seriously shaved butthole on display. Cole could come just watching.

The cat fished in a pants pocket and pulled out what looked like a couple of tubes of lube. Whoa. Talk about your good ideas. And they didn’t even need condoms since they were both shifters. That would be a first for him, since he always fucked humans. Cole took two more steps toward the tree.

Paris kicked the pants to the ground. “Heads up.” He tossed the tube to Cole. “Put this where it will do the most good.”

Oh. My. God. He dropped the lube, his hands were shaking so hard, and he had to do a quick grab.

“A little anxious, are we?” That amazing cat lay down on the branch on his back and propped a leg against a higher branch. Somehow he opened the lube packet with his teeth, squeezed some into one hand, and started pushing it into his hole with the other without even wobbling on the branch.

“How do you do that?”

“Ummm. Well, sometimes I use two fingers, but you’ve got me so hot I could push a fist in there and it would fit fine.”

“That’s not what I—” He laughed.

Paris looked sideways, still idly pushing lube and humming. “Where’s my treat, Puppy Boy? I’ve been wanting to see it for ever so long.

“You want it, you got it, cat.” He opened his fly, reached into the boxer briefs he’d managed to wear today, and hauled out his cock. Just like Paris had said, barely touching it made him want to come on the spot.

Paris grinned. “Glad I have room for a fist. That should be just about right. I didn’t know you were an elephant shifter.”

Could he blush and swagger at the same time? He walked toward Paris with his cock out but pants still fastened at the waist so they didn’t fall down.

When he got close, Paris turned on the branch, grabbed the one above, and pulled his legs back to his ears. Target ahead! One asshole poised for penetration.

Just the sight was an orgasm. Cole grabbed his cock and strangled it hard. He had to last a few more minutes. Needed into that hole.

“Get over here.”

Cole unfastened his pants and let them slide down. He stepped out of them and then ripped the bothersome briefs down his legs and kicked them aside. His cock pressed hard against his abdomen. He ripped the lube packet with his teeth, tossed the paper, and slopped some on his throbbing elephant cock.

Paris slid his hips way off the branch with his legs in a wide V. Oh shit, this is so sexy. The cat grinned. “I hope you’ve got good aim.”

“Try me.” Cole grabbed his cock, stepped up to that ass, and pulled Paris off the branch and to his waiting dick. Paris wrapped those hard-muscled legs around Cole’s waist, and Cole positioned his cock at his back door. “Ready when you are.”

Paris tightened his legs and pulled himself straight onto Cole’s cock.

“Ohhhhh.” No description. No word for how it felt. Hot. So tight he could strangle happily. Squeezing every nerve on his dick perfectly, like the penis and the ass had been designed together and then taken apart and distributed. Perfect.

Cole opened his eyes to see Paris staring at him with glazed gold eyes. “You’re all the way in, Puppy. Get ready.”

“Hell, yeah.”

Paris grasped the branch tight with his hands and started to thrust his hips hard against Cole, back and forth like some electric swing. Fire flashed up Cole’s spine on every push. He pulled back and rocked forward until their timing perfected and their hips met in the middle. Bam, bam, bam. Fuck!

Paris threw back his head. Some keening, screaming sound never made by a wolf poured out of him. “Fuuuuck. I knew it. I knew you’d be this great. Fuck me, my wolf. Fuck me senseless.”

Easily said. Happily done.

He grabbed Paris’s legs for leverage and hammered his ass. Long strokes, then in for a pound, pound, pound. Back to long and slow. Not a nerve ending got missed. In, out, in, out. The sizzle started in his cockhead and seared up his shaft to his balls, where it started to boil. Every particle of awareness shot straight to his cock, like watching a volcano and waiting for the eruption.

Paris grabbed his own cock and stroked it, then squeezed it hard until his knuckles turned white. “Oh God, Puppy, gonna come. Want it to last forever, but no go. Oh shit, oh shit. Ohhh.” He released his hand and spurts of thick white jism shot out of him onto the cat’s silken skin.

This. Was. It. “Ohhhhh.” Cole howled and slammed his rod so far into that hot ass it should have come out Paris’s mouth. “Ahooooooo.” It felt like more than cum poured out of him. Some internal parts must be liquefying and melting into the cat’s body. Amazing. All he saw was black, then white, then stars.

Both their bodies trembled and shook together.

Paris sagged against him. Cole reached out and supported his weight as the cat drew his arms around Cole’s neck. His legs weren’t working well enough for one, much less two. He staggered over to a fallen log and sat on it, still carrying his beautiful burden.

Hot breath warmed his ear. Hold this guy tight.

Extraordinary. In all his adult life, he’d only had sex with human males he picked up for a quick fuck and seldom, if ever, saw again. This felt so different. So—real.

So nice.

The silky voice whispered against his ear. “Well, aren’t you all that and a bag of chips.”

What did that mean?

He must have tensed because Paris leaned back and looked up into his face. “Sorry to sound snarky. This was great. Really great.”

“Yeah.”

Paris snuggled back against his neck. “You smell good too. Not like some wolves. You’re fresh and sweet.”

“I’m not sure that compliments my alpha male credentials.”

“Right. We’ll take out an ad. ‘Vote for Cole as pack alpha. He smells good.’”

Cole shrugged, which moved Paris against him. “Doubt if I’ll ever be an alpha anyway.”

Paris pulled back again and stared at him. “Why ever not? You have alpha written all over you.”

He shrugged. “I’m a gay werewolf. No one will accept that happily. It would have been okay if I’d married Analiese. Everyone would have been so grateful for the alliance, they’d have accepted my weirdness. But as it is, nah. Doesn’t matter. I don’t really want to be alpha.”

“Is that true?”

“Pretty much.”

Paris kept staring.

Cole ducked his head. “I’d like to do the good stuff. You know, protect the pack. Make sure things run well and everyone thrives. But I hate speaking and motivating and all that crap. I hate the politics. Hell, you’d be a better alpha at that part than me.”

Paris laughed. “Right. You think you’re weird. I’m a gay panther half-breed. Besides, I hate packs. I’m o sole mio, Puppy.”

“We’re a couple of freaks, all right.”

Paris licked Cole’s neck. Goose bumps attacked Cole’s arms and Paris laughed and rubbed them. “Guess we better get dressed and face whatever music is playing.”

Shit. Here he was hanging out. “Yeah. I need to see Landon and figure out what to do about Eliazer. If there’s going to be a war, we need to prepare.”

Paris’s eyes widened. “War? What the hell? Is it that serious?”

“Probably. With no alliance, we’re sitting ducks if we wait it out. We’ll have to arm up and look tough. Hope he thinks we’re scarier than we are.”

Paris swung off his lap, pulling Cole’s now very relaxed cock out of him. Cole felt cold without that warm body next to his.

The cat gathered clothes from the ground and various branches and started dressing. “I hate to think about you having to fight. You should be a lover, not a fighter.” He winked a golden eye.

Hard to tell when the cat was sincere and when he was kidding. Cole picked up his trousers and briefs and pulled them on. “I’m probably better at fighting.”

Paris stood up straight and stared at Cole. “Then you must be one hell of a fighter.”

Chapter Seven

Cole pulled his car up in front of the Marketos’ stately mansion. “My folks are here. That’s their car.” He nodded to the black town car.

Paris raised an eyebrow. “Word of Analiese’s defection has clearly reached all quarters. Maybe you should come in.”

“Yeah. They may want my opinion.”

Paris raised an eyebrow. “They certainly won’t want mine. I think I’ll go in through the kitchen and head for my room.” He leaned across the console. “Thank you, Puppy. I may joke, but this was one of the best nights ever.”

Cole leaned in and gently pecked those soft lips. “For me too. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow, I guess. No reason to stay. I can go back to work.”

He kissed him again, more deeply. “I’ll miss seeing you.”

“I’ll miss fucking you.” Paris laughed. “I never miss people.”

A little pain in the heart. Get over it. Cole smiled. “Okay, cat. Be alone, but remember how great my cock felt in your ass.”

Paris shifted elaborately to one ass cheek. “That’s not something I’m likely to forget for quite a while.”

They both laughed. So maybe Cole’s was a little forced, but he couldn’t make the guy give a damn.

“Good night, Puppy. Stay safe, okay?” Paris opened the car door, slipped out on little cat feet, and melted into the trees at the side of the house. Even Cole’s night vision couldn’t keep track of him.

What an amazing experience. Maybe this was the best night he’d ever have in his life. That made him kind of sad. But hell, if it was his best night, at least it was amazing.

He got out of the car and walked from the circular drive up the long path to the Marketos’ front door.

Chapter Eight

Cole knocked. The big double door was carved teak. Beautiful. He’d seen it from a distance once or twice, but werewolves stayed out of each other’s territory unless invited. Even the friendly ones.

One side of the door opened and a big werewolf stood there. He was dressed like a butler but smelled like an enforcer.

Cole nodded. “I’m, uh, Cole Harker. I thought my parents might want to see me.”

The butler stepped aside. “Come in, sir.” He had the butler stuff down. “Please wait here and I’ll see if Mr. and Mrs. Marketo are expecting you.”

“Uh, not expecting—” But he was gone.

Cole walked over to the central table in the large entry hall. Beautiful tropical flowers spilled out of a vase. The walls above him were decorated with formal portraits of people. Werewolves, likely, but no telling without smell. The place was altogether more formal than the Harkers’ big friendly house with its door always open to any wolf who wanted to chat or have a bite to eat. Still, it was nice.

The wolf butler came back in. “They would like to see you, sir. Follow me, please.”

They walked past what was clearly a formal living room and down a hall to a closed door. The butler opened it and stepped aside. “Right in here.”

Cole walked in and the door closed behind him. He was in a big office, or maybe they’d call it a study. Marketo leaned back in a leather chair behind a huge wooden desk. Cole’s parents sat opposite in upholstered guest chairs. Trixie seemed only barely part of the action. She’d settled on a banquette by the windows and held her knitting.

Marketo practically leaped out of his chair and rushed to Cole with his hand extended. “I’m so very sorry, Cole. This is the most terrible breach of contract, to say nothing of a shocking disregard for all our family’s values and traditions.”

Cole took his hand. Yeah, it was pretty bad by werewolf standards. “I didn’t know when I signed the contract that Analiese was in love with someone else. I wouldn’t have agreed.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t take her statements of affection seriously. She’s had other crushes, and I thought this was just one more.”

Trixie made a little snort. Apparently, Mama had known otherwise.

Landon pointed toward a third guest chair they must have dragged from the conference table. “Sit, Cole. How did you know we were here?”

He sat. “I didn’t. I brought, uh, Paris home and saw your car.”

“Paris?”

“Yes, he drove to the party with another member of the pack and needed a ride.” God, he hoped his face wasn’t too red.

Marketo sat back in his desk chair. “Where’s Paris now?”

“He said he was tired and going to his room.”

Landon looked up at Marketo, then over at Crystal. What the hell was up?

He waited.

Marketo leaned forward. “Shall I ask him to come down?”

Landon looked at Crystal and she shook her head.

Cole took a breath. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

Crystal sprang out of her chair and paced to the fireplace on the side wall. “Haven’t we learned our lesson? Can’t we just sign an alliance pact without blood?”

Marketo frowned. “We need both packs to respect him and follow him. He’s got to be bound. And he’s got to sacrifice.”

She threw up her hand. “He already did.”

What the hell was happening?

“Yes, and they were willing to lay down their lives for him. But without binding, they’ll forget.”

Crystal shook a finger at him. “It’s a constant reminder that he’s not like them.”

Marketo frowned. “Blood is blood.”

Cole put up his hand. “Excuse me! But what the hell are you talking about?”

Marketo hit a button on his desk and the butler opened the door instantly. “Yes, sir.”

“Ask Paris to come down here right away, please.”

Cole looked from face to face. “Will someone please tell me?”

Marketo nodded. “Soon.”

Silence. Except for the sound of knitting needles.

Crystal burst across the room in five steps and ended up next to Trixie. “Do you agree with this?”

The pretty little blonde looked up almost serenely. “It doesn’t matter. He won’t do it.”

Marketo stood up and slapped the desk. “Yes, he will. Dammit, female. You’ll help.”

Crystal bared her teeth at the man. His eyes widened. You didn’t mess with Crystal Harker.

Shit, this was crazy-making. “What is it, Mom? Tell me.”

She turned to him—and the door opened.

Be still my heart. Paris Marketo in a tailored suit was heart-stopping, but in tight jeans and a slouchy white sweater he could have starred in an A&F ad. Damn, the cock effect. Cole straightened his jacket.

Paris looked around the room questioningly. His eyes met Cole’s, and he glanced up as if to ask What the hell is going on? Cole shrugged.

Marketo nodded to his son. “Thank you for coming, Paris. Grab a chair.”

He walked over to the round table and pulled a chair over beside Cole.

The sweet, acrid, ridiculously sexy cat perfume hit Cole like smelling salts. Hell, maybe they all knew he and Paris had fucked. Could that be what this was about? He wanted to reach over and touch Paris. Not a good idea.

Marketo walked out from behind his desk. He cleared his throat and looked very nervous. This smelled bad. Literally.

Marketo nodded toward Paris and Cole. “You both know the fix that my daughter has left us in.”

Paris frowned. “Forgive me, sir, but it was a dumb idea to begin with.”

Marketo stopped his pacing and stared at his son. Their eyes locked. “Be that as it may, we are now in a crisis. We set up the packs for an alliance sealed with blood by marriage. The papers were signed and we are in default.”

Cole shook his head. “There’s potential breach of promise, but the agreement isn’t finalized until the marriage takes place.”

Landon stood up and walked over beside Marketo, facing Cole and Paris. “Let me lay it out for you. Harker is in danger from Eliazer Pack. We all know that. The alliance may discourage Eliazer, but no guarantees. Without the alliance, we’re sitting wolves.” He smiled at his own joke, but it was grim. “And if Eliazer beats Harker, he’ll go after Marketo. Take us down one at a time. We must have the alliance.”

He picked up a crystal globe from the desk and turned it in his hands. “If war comes, Cole has to lead and the pack has to follow. Merced and I agree that Cole is the best tactician we have. His instincts and his senses are unmatchable. A lot of the Marketo enforcers are great fighters, but Cole is the general. Along with the two of us.” He took a deep breath. “But he’s gay.”

Cole glanced up. “I thought there was no such thing as a gay werewolf.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved a hand. “Unfortunately, our werewolves—most werewolves—have never been taught to respect or accept different sexual preferences.”

Paris frowned. “Whose fault is that?”

Marketo spread his hands. “Whatever may be true, I don’t want energy wasted on werewolves fighting for dominance between our packs. You need to be Pack Marketo, Cole.”

What the fuck. He leaned forward. “I seem to recall trying that and it didn’t work so damned well. Have you got some other female I can marry?”

“It won’t work if it’s not alpha blood, you know that. Plus, there’s a signed contract.”

Okay, enough. “So what do you want me to do? Track her down and bring her back over my shoulder? Because I won’t do it. I won’t.” He pointed at Marketo. “You should have known more about your daughter.” He switched to his father. “And you shouldn’t have been in such a damned hurry to pawn me off.”

Paris shifted in his seat. “And may I ask why it was so important that I witness this Monday morning quarterbacking event? I’m tired and would like to sleep.”

Landon took a big breath and looked at Marketo.

Crystal made a whimpering sound.

Marketo faced Paris. “Because we want you to marry Cole.”

Stunned. Silence.

Paris leaped up. “What the fuck? You can’t rope me into your wolf politics.”

Landon sounded placating and reasonable. “Same-sex marriage is legal in Connecticut and most of the surrounding states. We can get an official to conduct the marriage tomorrow with no problem.”

Paris’s gold eyes widened. “I don’t care if it’s going to be conducted by the fucking queen, I’m not getting married.”

Marketo put out his hand. “Paris, it’s perfect. The contract will even stand. Analiese signed it A. P. Marketo.”

Paris stared. Cole looked from face to face. “What does that mean?”

Marketo glanced at him. “Paris’s first name is Anthony. He’s also A. P. Marketo.”

Paris hissed, “Did you plan this? Did you ask her to sign that way?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Paris waved his arms. That voice wasn’t silky anymore. “You already said your wolves hate gays. They would hate this marriage double.”

Landon stepped forward. “No, don’t you see? If it’s for the alliance, they’ll accept it.”

Marketo nodded. “And then they will accept you. You could be a part of the pack.” He smiled.

Cole cringed. If ever there was a wrong thing to say.

Paris’s mouth fell open. “Accept me? Are you mad? I’ve spent my life trying to get away from werewolves, and you want your pack to accept me?”

“It works well. It was an accident, but a fortunate one.”

The cat practically bounced off the walls. “Fortunate! Fortunate for whom, wolf? You can take your contract, your war, and your fucking alliance and”—he slapped the wall hard—“and shift it.”

Well, hell! Cole stood up. “Wait. You said you wanted the alliance. That your parents are important to you. That—” Shit! He bit his tongue.

Paris stared at him, wide-eyed. “Sure. For them. For you. I know what pack does. It kills you young, just like my mother. Count. Me. Out.”

He ran to the door, ripped it open, and slammed it behind him as hard as that lean, all-muscle body could muster.

Marketo looked shell-shocked. “Don’t worry. Trixie and I will talk to him. He’ll come around. I’ve never asked anything of him before. He’ll go through with it.”

Cole stared at the closed door. Could he even breathe? He rose slowly.

His father reached for him. “Cole—”

Cole shook off his hand. “Go through with it. Yes. Apparently marrying me is the worst possible thing any Marketo would ever have to do.” He took two steps toward the door and stopped. He didn’t turn around. “I’ve lived my whole life for the pack. Denying who and what I am so as not to upset any fucking wolf—excuse me, Mother. I agreed to cancel my life to make this alliance happen.” He took a deep breath. “I think the amazing thing is not that I’d do it.” He raised his head and looked back at his father. “The amazing thing is that you’d ask me to.” He walked out the door.

* * *

Nikel Eliazer held the gun to the wolf’s head. He looked over at the guy’s companion on his knees between two of the Eliazer enforcers. “You I’m letting go. Tell your pack not to anger me.” He pulled the trigger. Brains splattered across the warehouse floor. In the opposite direction, of course. He loved this suit. He nodded at his males. “Take him back to his pack territory and let him go.” He looked around as a wolf dragged out the body and two enforcers escorted the terrified pack member beside him. “So what’s next?”

He pulled off his gloves and walked over to the table on the other side of the big, open room. He didn’t mind staying in here for his next audience. The smell of blood turned him on, and he loved being excited.

His second stepped up. “The two human investigators.”

Nikel nodded. Good, his favorite subject. He sat at a folding table.

The sliding metal door opened and one of his wolves escorted the two humans in. They always looked nervous around him. Appropriate. What were their names? Didn’t matter.

He showed some teeth. “So, how is my boy? More particularly, where is my boy?”

Human One cleared his throat. “He’s in Connecticut, sir. Or at least he was when we left.”

“Why?”

Number Two took his turn. “It appears to be a contract for dancing.”

“Dancing? Where would he dance in Connecticut?” Not exactly a hotbed of erotic expression.

Human One looked at a notebook. “A club called the Way Station.”

Odd. Very close to Harker territory. “I know that club. It’s nothing special. Why would my boy be interested in a place like that?”

“Uh, it appears he danced at some kind of wedding thing. A, uh, bachelorette party or something. Some big wealthy families.”

“Ah. Yes, I suppose someone like that could afford his fees. Whose wedding was it?”

“We couldn’t tell too much. There weren’t any signs or programs or anything, and you said we shouldn’t be too obvious.”

Nikel waved his hand. “Yes, yes. All right.”

“But we did hear some guy say Marketo. That might be it.”

Well, shit. Interesting. Marketo had a daughter. “I see. And you don’t know who the other family was?”

One guy shook his head while staring at his shoes. Silly human coward.

“And where is my boy now?”

Human Two ducked his head. “Sorry sir, we lost him. He went in wearing his costume for dancing. We never saw him come out. There were a lot of people coming and going. Really sorry.”

“Hmm.” The men cringed. Nikel smiled. “I appreciate your report. Extremely interesting. Please remain on call, as I may need you again.” They practically passed out from relief. It was all over their faces. “Turn in your guns for new ones. I never like anything to be traceable.”

“Yes, sir, thank you.”

Human One stepped a little closer and placed a photo on the table. “Here’s a shot of him going in the back door of the club.” The guy stepped back quickly.

Nikel picked up the photo. Instant hard-on. The dancer, Anthony, stood outside a plain door. His skin appeared to be covered with black, sparkly paint. But it was all about the body. Oh God, look at those shoulders, the lean, long legs, and best of all, the bulge of his cock in the skimpy G-string. Nikel’s dick filled and lengthened. Nothing, not even brains on the floor, did it for him like this kid. This extraordinary being.

He looked up. The humans were staring down at the floor. They probably weren’t comfortable with his lust for a male. “You’ve done well.” He reached in his pocket, pulled out his money clip, and peeled off ten hundred-dollar bills. “This is a little something extra for your special efforts.” He looked down at the photo. Oh yes, these humans knew he liked the pictures. He held the bills out and Human One walked up and accepted them.

“Thank you. Thank you very much. We really want to do a good job for you, Mr. Eliazer.”

“Yes, yes.” He flicked his fingers and the wolf male stepped up beside them. The humans were average size and the enforcer towered over them. Their eyes widened. Of course, they didn’t know that this six-foot-five giant was wearing pink lace underwear.

Nikel turned away as the humans were led out.

He’d let them live a bit longer. It was useful to have humans following Anthony. Nikel still wasn’t sure what the boy was. He smelled something like wolf. Not that Nikel’s sense of smell was all that great. Dope even did in a werewolf’s nose. And Anthony sure didn’t show any pack tendencies. Solitary, that kid. But no matter what Anthony was, it was better he not know there were wolves after him.

And now these idiots had stumbled on something that could be important. If Merced Marketo was marrying off his daughter, it could mean nothing. A happy occasion. But what if it meant more? What if it was an alliance? And one logical ally would be Pack Harker. They had an alphanta. But wasn’t the guy gay?

Hell, he had to know, because this was one happy marriage that was about to end in divorce.

* * *

Cole walked into his room, threw his suit coat on the chair, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed on the bed. He’d managed his big exit. Said the perfect line. What for? He understood why Landon asked him to marry for the alliance. If he was alpha, he’d be asking the same thing of his son. If he had one. Which he never would.

But truth was, the cat had hurt him, and Cole had acted like a child and wanted to make someone else hurt.

He rolled over on his side. Couldn’t Paris have paused just for a second? Considered the thought of marrying Cole, rather than vomiting his frustration and running out of the room? Sure, it was stupid to think of him and the cat marrying, but was the idea that disgusting?

It was funny, really. These werewolf arrangements were supposed to be set in stone. An established tradition. And he’d been repudiated twice. He couldn’t even get someone to take him when they got a whole pack alliance along with him. Not very good for a guy’s ego.

He swiped at his cheeks and fell asleep.

* * *

The sleek, black panther slipped into the bushes. Deep breath. Another. His mind—turned inside out. Body, scent, movement, deep breath, awareness, mind, consciousness, breath, self—yes, self-awareness. He stretched. Human. He sat up and dropped his head onto his bare knees.

Insane. Wolves were crazy. And Cole had said he was like his father. God, what could be worse? Like some hive mind from science fiction. He was no damned wolf. He’d never met his mother, but he knew he was just like her. Not a wolf, dammit. And he’d never tell them what he could do. Never.

He threw his head back. Move it, cat.

He untaped the plastic bag containing his wallet from his chest—he’d discovered years ago that his little travel pack would survive the shift—and then reached behind him for the packet of clothes he always kept there in the bushes. Sometimes a child or homeless person found them before he did. Those were creative moments, trying to get home nude. But they were there now. Don’t think. Dress.

A couple of minutes later, he crawled out of the thick foliage, stood up in his sneakers, brushed off the jeans and sweatshirt, and headed toward his car. Every few days he moved the car to a new parking place. This time he’d chosen a rest stop off the parkway.

He shook his arms as he walked, getting used to being human. There was the nondescript, piece-of-shit car. A quick search inside the wheel rim, and he had the keys in hand. Home. Only his dad had the slightest idea how to reach him, and that was just a cell phone number. No one knew where he lived. Not family. Not employer. Not friends. Friends? He spat out a laugh. He certainly didn’t have to worry about that problem.

He turned on the ignition and put the American sedan into gear. Nobody wanted to steal this little loser. That’s why he felt safe leaving it around town. He pulled out onto the parkway and kept it at the speed limit. Never attract attention.

Wasn’t it ironic that those idiot wolves wanted him to save their fucking alliance by marrying into the pack? The very pack he’d spent most of his life trying to hide from.

Marrying Cole. He sighed.

He shook himself. He was a cat and that was all he wanted to be, so he couldn’t marry any fucking dog.

He turned on the radio. Christina Aguilera. No. He changed stations. Some rapper. Good. He turned it up. Hos and blades and guns and—Shit! He flipped it off.

How could they ask him? Why did they ask him? Damnation, his hands were shaking. Too many people clamoring at him. Too many demands. He pulled the car to the side and stopped.

He hammered his fist against the steering wheel. Fuck! It hurt. They had no right. No right. They’d never asked him to do anything before. Just a hint that he might come to his sister’s wedding. And he’d felt like some big magnanimous hoo-ha showing up.

And then they’d sprung this. If he hadn’t done the first thing, given that inch, they never would have tried to take a fucking mile. The only time they ever needed him and it was something impossible.

He closed his eyes and shivered. Silver eyes stared back at him. Silver eyes reflecting the golden light in his own.

Chapter Nine

“Cole. Come on, wake up.”

One eye opened. Oh crap. Daylight. Cole closed it again. “Why?”

“Shit is hitting fans and we need to discuss it.” Landon’s voice sounded worried.

Okay. Try two eyes at once. Semisuccessful. He squinted. He reached down for covers. None there. Oh right. He was still wearing his suit pants and a white shirt. He raised his head. And he was still lying on the end of his bed.

Landon stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips. “I came to check on you last night, but you were so sound asleep I didn’t want to wake you up just to undress.”

Cole sat up. Oh man. Places hurt he’d forgotten he had. Like his cock, for example. Sex with that feline could replace a fortune in gym memberships. Sadly, he wasn’t going to get that kind of exercise again.

He cleared his throat. “So what ever happened to Paris?”

“He vanished. His mother went up to talk to him just a couple minutes after you left, and he was gone. The only thing he’d taken that she could see was his wallet.”

“He probably shifted.”

“Yeah.”

“Check the news for panthers in New York.” He shrugged. “Those Marketos may not need an alliance. They’re so good at disappearing, maybe they can escape Eliazer that way.”

“Don’t take it personally, Cole. The female had someone else. As you said, her father should have known better. And as for the panther… well, I guess we were clutching at straws. Merced suggested it and I thought, hell, at least you could be married to a guy. So I went along with it. I apologize.”

Cole’s throat clutched, so he just nodded. They didn’t know. Landon couldn’t guess how forcing the cat’s rejection had hurt. Stupid. Stupid.

Landon sat on the end of the bed beside Cole. “Sadly, this whole thing has combined to undermine Merced Marketo’s position. His wolves don’t like losing face to us, and some of them are saying he made a mistake in attempting the alliance. They say we’re the ones in danger and that Eliazer will probably leave them alone.”

“That’s fantasyland.”

“Yeah, even the ones saying it probably don’t believe it. And, of course, some of them are saying he made a mistake trying to marry his daughter off to a gay werewolf.”

Cole punched his fist on the mattress. “They didn’t care so damned much when it was about to happen.”

“Yeah. Well, those are the facts.” Landon sighed.

Cole gritted his teeth. “It’s not like I chose to be fucking gay.”

Landon put a hand on his thigh. “I know, son.”

Cole stared at his father. Maybe it was too much to ask the alpha to be happy about having a gay son, but it sure as fuck was hell feeling like an imposition because of being who you were.

Landon stood. “Anyway, here we are with no alliance, so we better prepare for whatever the hell comes next.”

Cole started unbuttoning his shirt. “It would help if we knew what Eliazer was planning.”

“I agree. And for that, we need your nose, eyes, and ears.”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty conspicuous.” He stood, stretched, and headed toward the bathroom.

“Yeah, but you’re the best and we have to use it. Come downstairs after your shower.”

He tossed his clothes in the hamper and stepped under the hottest water he could stand. The heat felt good on his crimped back. God, how long had he held Paris around his waist? Not long enough. Just the thought made him shiver.

It would have been nice to remember the cat leaving his car after that sweet kiss. A perfect memory. Not the shrieking feline who slammed out of his parents’ living room, practically tearing down doors at the thought of being stuck with Cole.

He slid the soap over his body, did a fast run of the razor on his face, and got out of the shower. A fluffy towel soaked up the water in his hair.

Now his gayness was toppling the whole Marketo pack. And he’d never be alpha of Harker. Talk about liabilities. Shit. He should just leave.

He stopped in mid-towel-stroke. Leave. Yes. Not now—he had to help with the reconnaissance—but after that he could just leave. Lone wolf. He shuddered. But hell, he hated crowds anyway. Then Landon could groom one of his seconds for alpha status without having to push aside a clumsy alphanta. God, had his life ever been so up for grabs? Pack usually meant stability. No more.

He dressed quickly. Hell, he might as well hurry to war.

He rushed down the stairs, but as he approached his father’s office, he heard voices. Familiar smells. He knocked on the doorjamb and looked in. “Hi, Lindsey.”

Landon smiled at him. “It seems we’re not alone. Lindsey’s volunteering for the war.”

Cole walked into the room. “What? Hey. I thought you were a lover and not a fighter.” Whoa. That was too much like Paris’s parting words in the car.

Lindsey shrugged in that elegant, English-drawing-room-comedy way of his. “Us gay werewolves have to stick together. Besides, Landon says you need information, and I know a lot of people.”

Cole sat in the guest chair beside Lindsey. “That’s brilliant, actually. I was thinking about where to start. We know so little about Eliazer or where to find him.”

Landon nodded. “Yeah, we know he frequents a warehouse by the docks, but he moves around and—”

Cole held up his hand. “When I was talking to Paris Marketo”—he swallowed and tried to keep his voice even—“he mentioned that Eliazer comes into the club where he dances a lot and gives him big tips. I think we can start there. I can go to that club and watch for Eliazer. Maybe follow him. Or at least sniff out his mood and intentions.”

Linds leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “And how, pray tell, do you plan to get into the most exclusive erotic club in Manhattan?”

Cole smiled. “Uh, maybe you could help?”

Lindsey laughed. “My relatives are valued members of the Black Leopard Club. If you speak to me very nicely, I will escort you in with bells on, dear.”

“I don’t want to put you in danger.”

He smirked. “Well, you’ll just have to, won’t you? Because you won’t get in any other way.”

“God, thanks, Linds. I can’t imagine how I can ever repay you.”

“We’re pack, dear. But much more important, we’re friends.”

Now that was a lesson to learn.

Landon cleared his throat. “The Black Leopard Club. Is it named for Paris Marketo?”

Lindsey shook his head. “No, the owners are human. They have no idea, I’m sure, what they have in their midst. I suspect the attraction may have been the other way around. The Marketo pup might have been attracted to the irony.”

“I understand Marketo is quite a dancer.”

Cole swallowed hard.

Lindsey laughed. “That would be a yes.”

* * *

“Do I look okay?” Cole turned to Lindsey in the limo as it slowed in front of the club.

Linds laughed and smoothed Cole’s silver tie. “Are you worried about fitting into the club or impressing the cat?”

Damn. That was a joke. It shouldn’t hurt so much.

Lindsey’s teasing smile faded. “Sorry. That feline is really a sore subject, isn’t he? Well take a deep breath, my friend, because you are about to get a face full of your furry friend, I suspect.”

Cole’s eyes widened. “He doesn’t shift.”

“Oh no, not into fur, but I hear he transforms into some kind of aerial sex god. I’ve been asking around. I think this may be a test of those great-looking trousers.” He nodded to Cole’s trim-fitting dark-blue suit that Lindsey had picked out.

Cole shrugged. “I just want to get information.”

Lindsey patted his shoulder. “Yes, dear, I know.”

The car door opened as the limo driver stepped back to let Cole out. Lindsey put a hand on his arm. “Ready? Show time.”

Deep breath. He wanted to do it just the way Lindsey told him. He adjusted his glasses so the camera flashes wouldn’t reflect off his eyes and stepped out. Whoa. People crowded against red velvet stanchions on either side of the walkway. Pop. Pop. Pop. The cameras recorded his exit. He faced the crowd and then pulled himself up to his full height, just as Linds had instructed him. Give them a second. Look important. It worked. A little “ooh” went up from the people. His height, hair, and expensive suit were giving him credit for a lot more celebrity than he deserved, but tonight it worked in his favor. He glanced up at the marquee where it said Anthony Moreau. Cole shivered.

With a flourish, he turned to the car and extended his hand. Lindsey took it and slid out of the limo. Cole didn’t know what “dressed to the nines” meant, but Lindsey clearly had done it. Maybe dressed to the tens. A white dinner jacket with a deep-blue ascot to match Cole’s suit and dark trousers set off Lindsey’s trim figure. Though he was tall himself—about six two—he still fit nicely under Cole’s arm. He waved to the cameras, flipped his blond hair off his forehead, and put a guiding hand around Cole’s waist, nudging him forward.

When they got to the door, the doorman practically fell over himself opening it. “Good evening, Mr. Vanessen. Good to see you back, sir.”

“Good to be back, Charlie. This is my good friend, Cole.”

“Good evening, sir.”

Cole nodded, but no way was he getting a word out of his mouth in this crowd.

Inside was not at all what he expected. A small, elegant waiting room. A beautiful, young, Asian, human woman walked over to Lindsey. “Mr. Vanessen. Welcome back. I don’t have a dinner reservation for you but will be happy to make one.”

“Thank you, Margo. No dinner tonight. My friend and I want to see Anthony.”

Cole’s muscles jumped at the name. He had to remember to call Paris Anthony.

She smiled. “Oh yes. I don’t believe you’ve ever been to the show, have you?”

“No. But I’ve heard so much about it from my friends. He’s quite the rage. We’d love to meet him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Anthony is very reclusive. But I’m sure you’ll love the show.”

So he managed to stay aloof. Interesting.

She tapped a few things onto her tablet and pointed toward an elevator door. When she hit the button, it opened. “Todd will take care of you. Enjoy yourselves.”

They stepped onto the elevator and it immediately closed. Cole started to speak and Linds touched his hand and glanced up. Cameras. Discreet but there. Cole pulled Lindsey against him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. That should make the proper impression.

The doors opened. Now this was what he’d expected. Noise, heat, and the smell of hot lust. Not just human either.

A good-looking young man stepped forward. “Good evening, gentlemen. Let me show you to your table.” Linds smiled and extended a hand. Cole knew that hand contained at least one hundred dollars. “A good view but not too close, please.”

“Pleasure, sir.” He walked them around the perimeter of the room that surrounded a stage on three sides. On the stage, two human females revolved on their poles. Cole inhaled. A few wolves in here. Maybe one or two other shifters. He glanced around. He’d seen pictures of Eliazer. Big male, fat but tall, with thinning hair he wore to his shoulders. Nobody like that here. Damn.

The maître d’ pointed to a comfortable leather booth, and they slid in until they were side by side. They ordered drinks. Cole leaned into Lindsey. “I don’t see Eliazer. What if he doesn’t come in?”

“Then we come back tomorrow. After all, we’re passionate fans of Anthony.”

That was kind of true.

The two females finished and a male dancer took the stage. Funny. He was talented, but obviously a “stripper,” while what he’d seen of Paris put the cat in a whole different category. Art. Sexy art, but art.

The pretty blonde waitress brought drinks and some snacks, even including pâté with crackers and some caviar. Cole smiled at the girl, then nodded at the appetizers. “Fancy hors d’oeuvres.”

Linds pasted a little goose liver on a cracker. “Fancy club.”

People walked by their table. Chair by chair, the place was filling. Waiters brought in a few more chairs to fit around some of the cocktail tables. Cole leaned back and looked around. One booth like the banquette he and Linds occupied sat conspicuously empty. Every other table and chair seemed to be filled.

The dancer exited the stage. A general hum filled the room. The curtains closed and everything waited. The lights in the audience, which had been at about one-third brightness, now darkened very slowly. As the lights dimmed, noises came from over Cole’s shoulder. He didn’t even have to look. One sniff did it. Yes! Wolf! Powerful wolf. He bumped a hand against Linds’ and cocked his head toward the back, then nodded. Lindsey smiled but didn’t look.

The room went black, like someone in the light booth had been waiting for Eliazer to arrive. Maybe they had. A female voice started crooning in a wordless singsong and the curtains pulled back. The smoke that had filled the stage at the Way Station looked puny next to this. The backdrop shone like a night of a full moon and brilliant stars.

Wham! Cymbals crashed. A figure ran onto the stage and leaped until he grabbed the second of three poles now on the set. He spun like a pinwheel in a single brilliant spotlight, with his mane of black hair streaking behind him. The whole audience gasped, although most of them had likely seen the act a dozen times.

The spinning slowed and Paris grasped a strap at the top of the pole and let his body hang with one leg pressed against the pole to thrust his hips forward.

Oh my God. He’d worn little in Connecticut. This was virtually nothing.

He wore black stripes, in sharp contrast to his pale, white skin. One of those stripes was a tiny G-string that held the considerable bulge of his cock, and that was it. He was clothed in nothing but stripes and his long hair.

The music changed and he began to undulate, still hanging from one arm. Then his legs spread and he turned upside down, spinning like a wide leaf in the wind. The hair whipped out, and he moved his head so it wrapped around the pole by itself. He held the pole with the strength of his arms and arched his body out like a fountain, pointing his barely covered cock right at the audience.

Cole’s heart beat like a hammer, and his cock sprang to attention. Not good. All his senses needed to be sharp, not clouded with his own hunger.

Then he smelled it. Lust so dense it filled his nose. God. He swallowed back the bile in his throat. That wolf wanted badly. Not just sex but more. Violence. Torture.

Cole’s hands knotted into fists. His wolf screamed in his ears. Kill him. Kill the bastard who threatens your—

Lindsey’s hand gripped his forearm. “Are you okay? Your eyes are glowing.”

“Uh, sorry.” Just breathe.

He dragged his mind away from the stage and focused on the presence of the wolf behind him. Deep, sharp, pungent, sickening.

Blood. The man had blood on his body, perhaps in his hair or under his fingernails. He carried a gun and some other metal. A knife, probably. Hard to smell anything over the reek of his desire for Paris. A lot of people in this room coveted the dancer’s body, but this was different. Like ownership. Possession. Sick and hungry. God, Cole wanted to throw himself on the stage and cover Paris’s body with his own. Maybe he was no better than Eliazer, wanting to own that cat.

Oooooh. The audience sucked a collective breath. Cole looked back at the stage. Holy…. Paris hung by his ankle and spun and revolved, his hair making figures against the flashing lights. He leaped from one pole to the other with a full circle in between. Such artistry. But Cole’s cock wasn’t interested in art. It remembered that cat wrapping muscular legs around his ass and fucking him senseless. Yeah, and his cock wanted more.

A vibration. A phone. Eliazer’s. God, the noise in the room had reached the threshold of pain.

He had to hear, but no chance. Even his sharpened senses couldn’t do it.

He needed wolf ears.

Could he do it? He’d managed it once before, just playing around, trying to spy on one of the cute guys of the pack. He’d shifted just his hearing to wolf. But no fur. Just the senses.

He took a deep breath. Focus. A little trickle of fire burned in his ear canals. Itchy, but working. It was like every sound stood out by itself, isolated, crisp. He could choose which sound to pay attention to.

A low, rumbling voice talking softly stood out in the noise. Like hearing a rabbit in a windstorm.

Listen. “Good. Yes, we’ll move in—” A roar went up from the crowd. Damn. It quieted. “—a few more days won’t hurt. Get them ready.” The voice stopped. Just breathing. The smell of lust rose.

Cole looked at the stage. Paris was in a full split, shifting from leg to leg, his cock framed by the V of his legs. The voice hissed, “Don’t bother me now. We go in a week.” And the voice stopped.

Could he be talking about Harker territory? Eliazer was a gangster. It could be anything, anyone he was moving in on. But maybe, just maybe this was a lead.

Applause rocked the room. The audience leaped to their feet, cheering. Lindsey stood and Cole rose beside him as the houselights came back up to half. People stomped their feet and cheered as Paris bowed low on the stage. He rose up and spread his arms like a ballet dancer, smiling. And then it happened. The gold eyes locked with Cole’s. Shit.

Paris’s face went blank, then drew into a frown. He seemed to realize where he was, smiled, and ran off the stage.

Lindsey leaned over. “He saw you, didn’t he?”

“Yes. I’m so damned tall.”

Lindsey laughed. “Oh, poor baby. What should we do?” He looked over Cole’s shoulder. “It looks like Eliazer is finishing his drink. Probably not wise to just march past him.”

“Yes, I agree.”

“Perhaps we should get another—”

“Can I get you gentlemen a drink?” The young waitress smiled, but her eyes were very wide. She smelled scared.

Lindsey laughed. “You took the words out of my mouth.”

She held up her tablet to place the order and wiggled a note that she was holding under it. She glanced at Cole. Linds got the drift. “Why don’t you bring me a Kir Royale and a French 75 for my friend?”

Cole reached up and grabbed the note. Her eyes glanced to the side as if she could see behind her. Eliazer. Was she afraid of him?

He looked at the note. It was written in lipstick and probably not by Paris. Go to men’s room. Someone will get you.

He looked at the girl and spoke very softly. “This is Pa—Anthony?”

She nodded. “That’s great, sir. I’ll have those for you right away? Can I get you any food?”

Lindsey made a wide gesture. “No, I think the drinks will be fine.”

“Be right back.” She smiled and practically ran toward the bar.

Lindsey spoke through his teeth. “What the hell.”

Cole slid to the edge of the booth. He spoke just loud enough for effect. “I have to go to the men’s room. I also have a phone call to make, if you’ll forgive me, darling.”

Lindsey caught on quick. “Not another guy, I hope.”

“Never.” He leaned in and gave Lindsey a peck on the lips. “I’ll be a few minutes.”

Linds held up his phone. “It’s okay. I have some stock reports to check.”

Cole kissed the air and walked toward the men’s room. Had that been enough of a show? Heat crept up his back. Was Eliazer watching him? A human waited by the men’s room door. He didn’t say a word, just wagged a finger and led Cole down the hall to a closed door, then turned and left.

Cole’s heart beat so hard he couldn’t hear.

Chapter Ten

His heart beat so hard he couldn’t hear. Damn the puppy! Paris stalked around his plush dressing room. He should calm down. But Cole standing right there in the audience! Who had sent him and what the hell was their game? He turned and paced the other direction, his dressing gown flapping around his legs like a tail.

A knock on the door stopped him. Cole. He walked over and conspicuously unlocked the door, but he didn’t open it. Let the wolf figure it out. A few paces took him to the opposite end of the dressing room. He turned and crossed his arms over his beating heart.

Slowly the door opened, like maybe Cole had turned the knob and hit the door and it traveled in on its own. The big wolf stood outside the door looking—Paris sighed—so ridiculously delicious it made his cock ache.

He waved a hand. “Don’t leave the door open, for crap’s sake—come in and shut it.”

Cole walked in and closed the door behind him.

Paris waved his hand again. “Lock it!”

Cole complied, then turned and looked at Paris. “You took off your stripes.”

“I don’t exactly go around striped on the streets.”

Cole’s lips turned up just a smidge. “Uh, you look good. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“What the fuck?” He threw his hands in the air and collapsed in a wingback chair. “You came to my show. Of course you expected to see me.”

“Uh, I mean I didn’t expect to see you off stage.”

Paris frowned. What kind of game was this? “What in the hell are you talking about? You came here to get me.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I didn’t come here for you at all. I remembered that you said Eliazer came here to see you, and it was the only place I knew to look for him. That’s why I came.”

“Not for me?” He wanted to scream and he wanted to cry. Which one would win?

“No. You said to leave you alone.”

“You son of a bitch!” Paris leaped out of the chair and hurled himself across the room at Cole with his fingers extended like claws. He hit the wolf like a missile and scratched at his face. “You bastard. You sucked me in and got me involved with your ridiculous pack crap.”

“Wait. Hold on.” Cole wrapped a huge arm around his middle, pulled Paris’s back against his chest, and held him with his feet off the floor. The big, dumb, bastard!

Paris kicked his feet, which was humiliating. “Let me go.”

“And let you scratch me? No way.”

Paris shook his head wildly. Frustration. “Why did you—? Why didn’t you—? Shit!”

“Uh-uh. You’re just a confused kitty.”

He had to stop this. Heat pushed behind his eyes. Damn. What was going on? The words flew out. “You didn’t come for me.”

For a second Cole said nothing. “You said you didn’t want me. Hell, you practically tore down your parents’ office door proving it.”

Paris frowned. “That’s right. I don’t.”

Cole loosened his grip just a little and let Paris’s feet hit the floor, though his strong arms still held Paris’s body tight. It felt way too good.

“So why should I come looking for you?”

“Because you want me?”

“What gave you your first clue?” His voice held laughter.

“The nine-inch steel rod sticking in my butt?”

A big hand slid down the front of Paris’s robe. “Oh, like the tentpole I see you’re sporting?”

Cole’s fingers brushed the silk robe aside and closed around Paris’s erection. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I don’t.” But his hips were thrusting his cock into Cole’s hand. Liar hips.

Cole pressed tight against Paris’s butt. That big cock nestled between his ass cheeks. More!

Oh hell. He was burning up! He turned in Cole’s loosened embrace and grabbed his face, pushing his mouth hard against those carved lips. He reached down, managed to pull Cole’s zipper past that hard-on from heaven, and stood on tiptoe so he could rub their dicks together.

Cole pulled back, gasping. “I don’t have long. Lindsey is outside waiting for me.”

A low growl trembled past Paris’s lips. Shit, where did that come from?

Cole’s eyes widened. “Linds? He’s just my friend. But Eliazer is out there. I don’t want to put Lindsey in danger.”

Paris heard his own breath, hot and hard. “Fuck me quick. I can’t stand it if you don’t.” He ran to the makeup table, fished in a drawer, and grabbed some lube. “I use this for jacking off.” His main form of release. But at this moment he had the best cock he’d ever had on a silver platter, and he wasn’t passing it up.

“Hell yes.” Cole unfastened his belt and pulled his trousers down, freeing the very big junior wolf.

Time for naked. Paris threw off his robe. Cole’s eyes widened. Good. Pant, wolf. He squeezed lube on his fingers and shoved it in his own hole, then handed the tube to Cole, who slicked his cock.

Paris turned the chair around and bent over the back of it. “Like what you see, wolfman?”

“Let me at it.”

Paris reached back and spread his ass cheeks. Cole’s cock fit into the space so nicely.

Cole leaned over and whispered, “Breathe out, cat.”

Paris did, and as the breath went out, the cock went in. And in. And in. Oh God, he’d almost forgotten how much there was of it.

Cole pushed in to his balls, then rested on Paris’s back and breathed.

“What happened to that need for speed, Puppy?”

“Hold on.”

Wham. Those hips pulled out and slammed back in. Shit, yes! Perfect.

Again.

And again.

Paris pushed back as Cole pressed in and the rhythm shot fire through his veins. Cole grabbed the back of his neck. Shit! Paris threw his head back and snarled. But oh God, he loved it. He loved it. This was it. Flaming, out-of-control passion like he never got it. He ran from it! Why the hell did he keep running to this dog? Yes, to get this.

Those agile hips kept hammering and every thrust connected to nerves that lit him up like a Fourth of July celebration. Light and fire shot through his hole and into his balls, which were already bubbling with cum. This. Was. It.

“Eeeeeeeowwww.” A ribbon of joy burst out of his cock as streams of hot white spunk. Oh God.

That wolf paw dug into his neck. “You like it, cat? You want this?”

“Yes, oh yes.”

“Good!” He pounded like a pile driver until gasps and tremors rocked that big body. “Oh yeah. Oh God, yeah.”

Paris could picture the river of cum filling his ass. He’d probably drip for days. Good.

Cole collapsed over his back, gasping. “How can you do this to me?”

Paris shook his head. No chance of speaking yet. And thinking was a regular field of land mines.

Silence. But not quiet. His brain might explode any minute, and he could feel Cole’s head practically bursting. Why, oh why, could he not resist this damned wolf?

The puppy rose off his back. Man, he hated the cold. He just hung there over the chair back. Maybe if he didn’t move, he wouldn’t have to think or speak.

That deep, hesitant voice. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Paris sighed and pulled himself up from the chair. Cole had already tucked in his shirt and closed his trousers. Pristine. Paris grabbed his robe and slipped it on. “No, it’s okay. It’s better, actually. Nothing’s changed. We both know we’re hot for each other, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a pack animal and I’m not.” At least not that he was telling anyone.

Cole swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “So that’s it? Thanks for the fuck?”

“What can I say? You wanted it too.”

Cole frowned. “Yeah, I wanted it and I still do. But what I don’t want is to leave you in this place. It’s not safe. And people stare at you and scream at you and—” His voice caught.

Is this what he’d wanted? Had he been hoping Cole had come to rescue him like some wolf in knight’s clothing? Back to fantasyland. “I’ve made a life here. I work hard to stay safe and nobody messes with me. I like it.” He picked up his powder puff and patted it on his nose, then looked over his shoulder. “Why don’t we turn the tables? You stay here with me. They don’t accept you in the pack. You’re just a big bundle of nose and eyes and biceps to them. Some superwolf commodity to be bought and sold.”

A flash of pain passed over Cole’s face, so crushing that Paris almost stopped. Almost.

“You’re as much of an outcast as I am. You just don’t know it.”

Cole stared with anguish in his eyes; then he straightened his back. “Actually, I do know it. But unlike the fucking Marketos, I keep my promises.” And he walked out the door.

What the fuck? Paris reached up to feel the tears on his cheeks.

* * *

Cole hurried out of the men’s room hall. Another act was on stage and the lights were low, so he had to skirt around the edge of the audience. God, he felt kicked in the stomach—and the cock—but he could still walk. He circled the room. People barely noticed him as he threaded between tables. Hell, the two blonde goddesses entwined with each other on the stage were far more interesting than him. And Eliazer’s table was empty.

As he slipped into the booth, Lindsey looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry, uh, dear. My phone call just went on and on.”

“I thought you fell in.” He said it for show, but it had that hint of Lindsey acid in it. He leaned over and kissed Cole’s cheek and whispered, “Darling, I have no nose at all and I think you smell like a porno movie set.”

Cole felt heat in his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“My, you have no willpower when it comes to the kitty.” Linds looked up for the waitress and made a scribbling motion. “We need to get you out of here before someone with a real sense of smell gets close to you.”

The cute blonde waitress hurried up to their table. “Can I get you something else, gentlemen?”

Lindsey shook his head. “Just the check, please.

She hit a button on her tablet and showed Lindsey the total. “They’ll have a receipt for you at the door, sir.”

“Excellent.” He put five hundred dollars on her tablet. “Settle up for me, will you?” He put another hundred on top. “Keep all the change.” He flicked the edge of a business card he had secreted in the bills. “What’s your name?”

“Helena, sir.”

“You’ve given us excellent service, Helena. I’ll be sure and tell them so at the desk. And if I can ever do anything for you”—he looked at her steadily—“you have only to ask.”

“That’s very kind, sir.” Her eyes glanced up to where Eliazer had been sitting, then back to Lindsey. “Very kind.”

She walked away as they slid out of the booth and moved toward the elevator.

Cole leaned in. “What was that about?”

“She looks like someone who may know where the bodies are buried around this place. Quiet, unassuming, and pretty. Good for loosening men’s tongues. Speaking of which, I want to hear everything about your kitty encounter.”

* * *

As the two men got on the elevator, Nikel stepped out of the space behind the banner advertising next week’s big act. Wolves. They had to be. Even he could smell them, and he had no nose. Or at least he could smell that big one. That one had alpha written all over him, but Eliazer had never seen him before. The slim, pretty one was a well-known businessman. His waiter had told him the guy was Lindsey Vanessen. Hellishly rich. Interesting. Maybe he was a wolf too. He’d heard a rumor that there could be shifters in a few of the prominent families, but this was his first real evidence.

But the big one. That guy made Nikel itch. He’d seen that handsome face before, but where? And why were two wolves seeing Anthony’s show when the rich one had never come there before? The whole thing made him nervous. He needed to know who that big wolf was, but his waiter hadn’t known. Apparently, Vanessen hadn’t given the guy’s name at the door. They appeared to be lovers. Maybe. But there was no room for screw-ups.

He’d waited so long. Planned so carefully. No strangers were going to deny him what was his. All he needed was for Anthony to make one mistake. Maybe tonight?

Chapter Eleven

Paris paced the dressing room. He could use a drink. That damned wolf turned him inside out. He looked at his watch. Another hour before the club closed. Before it was safe to shift, go out through his secret hole, and get home. Until then, he stayed out of the halls, away from the humans.

He threw himself into the comfortable chair and picked up a book. Shit! He jumped up. All he could smell was sex. Puppy sex. The very best kind.

He walked to the dressing table and fiddled with his jars and sticks of makeup. Maybe he could ask Helena to bring him something. A glass of champagne would be nice. It might calm him down.

He started to the door, then stopped. He never went out of his dressing room after a show. As far as anyone knew, he left immediately after performing, or he lived in the dressing room. Keep ’em guessing. That’s how he’d managed to maintain a life separate from the pack and the rest of the world for years. And the solitude was fine with him—except when he saw the damned wolf. Cole made him yearn for shit. Shit he couldn’t have and knew he would hate if he got it.

He walked back to the chair and sat. Just read until the club closes. Calm down. He picked up a book of poetry and flipped to Tagore. He usually did the trick.

That vague fragrance made my heart ache with longing, and it seemed to me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.

I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.

Damn! He threw the book across the room, rushed to the door, and threw it open. The hall lights had dimmed. Close to closing. “Helena? Are you here? Could you get me something?” He stepped out and looked toward the entrance to the club. “Helena?”

The voice came from behind him. “Did you need something, Anthony?”

“Oh, yes, I—” He turned. A human. Had he ever seen him before? “Sorry. I was looking for Helena.”

The big man smiled. “I’ll be glad to find her for you.”

Shit. Human smell. What—?

The hand with the heavy cloth came over his head and across his nose. Sharp, acrid odor filled his lungs. Limbs heavy. Falling. What had he done? Cole. Cole.

* * *

Ow. His belly bumped hard against someone’s shoulder.

“Be careful with him, you idiots.”

Paris knew that voice. He’d heard it outside the door of his dressing room when he was pretending to be gone. Eliazer. Nikel Eliazer.

Soft light filtered through some kind of bag over his head. Someone was carrying him like a rug over their shoulder. Where the hell was he? He sniffed. Carpet, wood polish, soap, and perfume. It had to be a house or residence, not a club or commercial space.

“Put him there.”

Look asleep. He relaxed his body as it flew through the air and landed on a soft surface. Probably a bed. Shit. He wanted to jump up. No way was he lying on any bed with Eliazer around. He’d seen the way the man looked at him. But if he just stayed still, he might learn something.

Footsteps moved around the room. Eliazer spoke. “You did well. Send me your bill and I’ll have a bonus for you.”

The human who had spoken to Paris in the hall answered, “Thank you, sir. We appreciate that.” More shuffling, then the sound of the door closing.

A soft beeping sound. A phone? Eliazer spoke again. “The two humans just left. Kill them. I want no one alive who knows where Anthony is—except you and the other guards, of course. You’ve chosen them with care, I assume? Good.”

Paris shivered. Try to stay still.

More footsteps. The cloth moved over his face. Very gently it was stripped away. Bright light shone through his eyelids. He moaned a little for effect.

A hand touched his hair softly. “There, there, my baby. I know this has been awful for you. But it’s all over. No one will hurt you anymore. Nothing bad will happen to you—ever again.”

Paris shuddered.

* * *

Cole leaned forward in the guest chair in front of his father’s desk and rested his elbows on his knees. Landon had said wait here. He waited. God, he felt beat up, internally and externally. If he could get this done, somehow help make the pack safe, he could leave. Get the hell out of Dodge. Find a new life. He glanced over at Lindsey in the other chair. What a good friend. Maybe he’d tell Linds where he was when he finally found a new place to settle. Just Lindsey. No one else.

Linds looked up and smiled. He reached out a hand and massaged the back of Cole’s neck a couple of times. “I know you don’t want to talk about last night, darling. But I’m offering advice anyway. That cat is something special to you. I think you need to go back and try to work something out.”

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“From the smell of you last night, I’d say that isn’t true. He just doesn’t want anything to do with the rest of us.” He chuckled. “So wake up, darling. Do something for yourself for a change.”

Landon’s voice called out to someone down the hall as he walked in the door. “Sorry to keep you waiting, boys.” He sat behind his desk. “So how did it go?”

Cole straightened. “We saw Eliazer. Armed and dangerous. The wolf reeks of blood.”

Lindsey nodded. “And he also has a passion for Paris Marketo.”

Landon leaned forward. “What?”

Cole sat back. “Paris told me when he was here that Eliazer gives him huge tips and comes in often to watch his show. He didn’t think anything of it. But I smelled lust on him way beyond a turn-on at an erotic act.” Cole swallowed hard. Killing the wolf might be fun. “He wants to possess Paris. He’s serious.”

Landon frowned. “Perhaps I should tell Marketo. He might want to send some enforcers to keep the boy safe.”

Cole shook his head. “I think that would drive Paris away and Marketo would never see him again.”

Landon nodded. “Probably true. Besides, the Marketos aren’t our problem. Did you learn anything else?”

“I overheard a conversation. Just a few words, and it could have been about anything. But he said something about starting in a week.”

“Do you think he meant us? Coming here?”

Cole nodded. “I don’t know why I think it, but I do.”

Lindsey’s phone buzzed. He looked surprised. “Sorry. I thought I’d turned it—” He glanced at the phone and quickly put it to his ear. “This is Lindsey Vanessen.”

He looked intently at Cole as he listened. “Of course I remember you. Thank you for calling.” He frowned. “Is that unusual? Yes, of course. Wait a moment, please.”

He put his hand over the phone. “It’s Helena. The young lady who waited on us at the club yesterday. She says Paris—uh, Anthony—was expected for a rehearsal of a new act today and he didn’t show up. She says it’s very unusual and she’s worried.”

Ice tracked down Cole’s spine. “Maybe he freaked at seeing us and left town?” Crap, he didn’t even believe that himself.

Lindsey went back to the phone. “Helena, is there a chance that Anthony might have decided to leave town? He and my friend had kind of an argument. Maybe he wanted to get away.” His frown got even deeper. “I see. Do you have any idea where?” Lindsey’s eyes looked wide and scared. No. Not Paris. “Thank you so much. Is it safe for me to call you? Text? Okay. Keep yourself safe. Or tell me immediately if you feel you’re in danger. I’ll send someone for you.” He clicked off.

Cole grabbed his arm. “What did she say?”

“She said none of Paris’s things were missing from his dressing room. It looked like he had just been there and the door stood open.” Lindsey glanced at Cole then down at his hands. “She saw some strange guys lurking around backstage.” He looked up. “She says she’s seen them before. They always stay close to Anthony’s dressing room. She thought they might be guards assigned by the club, but now she’s worried that they could be Eliazer’s men. She says the man is obsessed with Anthony. He might have taken him.”

Cole couldn’t catch his breath. He shook his head. “Oh God, where would he take him?”

Lindsey leaned over and put his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Helena said she was forced to have sex with Eliazer one time. He took her to a high-rise down by the river. She said they blindfolded her, but she’s really good at directions. It’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got.”

“Could she find it again?”

“I got the impression she thought she could.”

Cole stood up. “Text her and ask her to meet us somewhere. Hell, where?”

Linds held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll have her meet me at one of my family’s buildings. I’ll tell her not to worry. I’ll have a new and better job for her so she should just walk out.”

“Thanks, Linds.”

Landon stood behind the desk. “Cole, I’m calling Merced. This is really his job. His pack should go.”

Cole’s hands tightened. “The fuck it is.”

Landon’s eyes got wide.

Lindsey smiled. “He’s not altogether rational on the subject of the cat.” He started texting.

His father frowned. “So you’re going after Paris yourself?”

“Yeah. I’m getting ready.” He started toward the door.

“And I’m calling Marketo.”

* * *

Paris stared out the window of his upscale prison. Fifteen fucking floors. Even a panther would end up squashed. Why the hell was he here? Damn, he had a good idea, and he felt sick.

He paced to the palatial bathroom and back to the window. A sitting room, bedroom, and a rooftop deck complete with running track comprised his total world. Oh yeah, and a pole. Every room had multiple peepholes. They were easy to spot. He felt like college porn online. After years of isolation and total privacy, someone was now watching him shit.

He shuddered. He could make fun of this, but the sad fact was he hated being confined. Even in a giant prison like this. Maybe it had something to do with being trapped in his mother’s womb while she was dying. Shit, don’t think about that.

Take a deep breath, cat.

There were five of them out there. Big wolves. He could smell them. His nose told him two of them wanted to fuck him until he bled and the other three would gladly cut him into small pieces and eat him as an appetizer. But they weren’t in charge. He knew who was. He’d heard the man after they brought him here last night. He’d been awake then, but for some reason fell asleep again. Shit, sleeping was dangerous.

The handle on the door to the sitting room moved. Paris dove for the couch and sat cross-legged. Be cool, cat. It could mean your life.

The door opened and a big head came around the corner. Eli-fucking-azer. Cole had said to be careful of this male. Paris hadn’t listened. This looked like the price of his ignorance.

Eliazer smiled and walked into the room, then turned and carefully closed the door behind him. Paris had only seen him in a suit. The jeans and sweater looked odd on his big, stocky body. His thin, shoulder-length hair had to be an affectation of someone clinging to earlier days, because it sure didn’t look good.

“So, dear Anthony, you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

Okay, sound confident. “Comfortable? You have an odd idea of comfort. Drugging me and dragging me like a sack to”—he waved his hand—“wherever the hell this is.”

“Ah, this is your home now. I’ve spared no expense to make you happy and to keep you well.”

Too much! He leaped up and stalked a step toward Eliazer. “Happy. Have you lost your fucking mind? How can you imagine I’d be happy being kidnapped?”

Eliazer waved a hand. “In time you’ll come to see the value of your new home.”

Paris clenched his fists. Don’t think about it. “Time? You can’t expect to keep me here? People will notice I’m gone. They’ll come looking for me.”

Eliazer laughed. “Ah, dear Anthony, you flatter yourself. I’ve communicated with your work and let them know that you have decided to move on to other opportunities.”

Ice pick in the eye! “What the fuck?”

“Yes, and beyond them you have fewer connections than anyone I know. There’s no one who seems to care about you except me. You’re truly the loneliest man I’ve ever seen. Who would come looking for you?”

He wanted to gasp, scream, roll on the floor, but he held rigid. Punched in the stomach by fucking truth. Paris sat back on the couch. Eliazer was right. Who would even notice he was gone? Gone from the life he’d chosen.

Eliazer smiled. “There, you see. This will be much better for you.”

Forget being sad. No time. “What do you want from me?”

“Ah yes. To be all those things you’ve been missing. Your friend, father, teacher—and, of course, lover.”

Ice. “In a pig’s ass!”

Eliazer laughed. Slowly he unzipped his jeans and pulled out the shortest, fattest cock Paris had ever seen. Also fully erect, such as it was. Eliazer got off on this whole thing. He stroked it lovingly. “In time, this will start to look very appealing, since it’s the only cock you’re likely to get.”

“Yeah, well. Monkhood looks more appealing.”

Eliazer frowned for the first time since he’d come into the room. “By tonight or tomorrow morning with no food, I imagine this will start to look like a full meal.” He narrowed his eyes as he pushed the fat knob back into his pants, then smiled. “I can force you, boy, anytime I want. But I’d rather have your cooperation, and I know it’s only a matter of time. I’m very patient where you’re concerned.” He walked to the door. “Get comfortable, Anthony. You’re not going anywhere.” He walked out of the room and the click of the lock echoed.

Trapped. Locked in. His hands started shaking. He couldn’t stand it. Cats and traps didn’t go together. At least not this cat and this trap. All he wanted to do was curl in a ball and whimper.

No. Shit no. He squeezed his trembling hands into fists. They hadn’t beaten or killed him. He hadn’t even been raped—yet. And he had one tiny thing on his side. For some bizarre reason, Eliazer did not know what he was. He hadn’t even asked the question. He didn’t seem to know that Paris was a werewolf, much less a panther shifter. Eliazer had no nose. Human blood, probably. What about his henchmen? Didn’t they know? But in truth, even his own father’s wolves didn’t pick up on the truth. He was too rare. A wolf might smell it and not believe it. Only Cole had smelled him out. Cole. It hurt just to think of him.

Paris got up and paced into the bedroom. Feeling eyes on his back gave him the willies. Being locked in gave him double willies. Look hopeless. Like you’ve given up. Hell, that wouldn’t be hard. He threw himself on the bed and put a hand over his eyes.

Alone. Just like Eliazer said, he’d separated himself so much from everyone no one would even miss him. Would he miss them?

His father? Yeah. He didn’t see the alpha much, but it was kind of nice knowing he was there. Comforting, maybe. But his father wouldn’t think to look for him. Why would he?

And then there was that damned, sincere, tongue-tied werewolf. Would he miss Cole? Some weird heat pressed in his head and made his eyes water. The answer was yes. He’d miss that big guy. The wolf made him feel wanted and safe. But Paris had screwed that pooch—twice. Why? Maybe he couldn’t stand to let anyone care about him? Wanted and safe had never been in his vocabulary.

He flipped over on his stomach. Now his captors were staring at his ass. He took a breath. Some ice ball in his heart said Go to the window and jump out. But he didn’t even have that freedom. He tried to focus his mind on the problems at hand. No time for this psychological bullshit.

One slim panther against five—no, six—big wolves wasn’t a match he’d want to sign up for.

Looking hopeless wouldn’t be very hard at all.

Chapter Twelve

The limousine inched through the evening traffic. River on one side, tall buildings on the other. Cole’s mouth was dry and his hands kept clenching and unclenching. Save Paris. Save him.

Helena pressed her nose against the window like she was desperate not to miss a clue. Lindsey looked relaxed but smelled scared. Cole put a hand on his arm. “Thanks, Linds. Who knew you were Sam Spade.”

“I’d rather be Kinsey Millhone, dear.”

“Seriously, thanks.”

“Thank me and Helena when we have the boy back.”

“Yes. Thank you, Helena. You’re very brave.”

She kept staring. “Anthony’s always been so good to—there! That’s the building, I think.”

Cole leaned over and looked at the high-rise condominium. “Why do you think so?”

“I remember the car I was in stopped at a stoplight or sign. I heard sounds like that harbor cruise place down there.” She pointed toward the water. “I know it seems crazy, but when I was a kid, we used to close our eyes and try to draw maps of places we traveled to. I was the best. When Mr. Eli—uh, him—when he sent for me, I was really scared, but as soon as my eyes were covered, my brain just started collecting data.”

“That’s great, Helena.”

Lindsey smiled. “Actually, it’s better than great.”

“Why?”

“Because my family owns that building.” He laughed.

“No shit? Excuse me, Helena.”

She shook her head. “I almost said it first.”

Lindsey pushed a button and spoke into a microphone. “Alan, please pull over onto a side street and park. We need to get out.”

“Yes, sir.”

He sat back.

Cole looked at Lindsey. “So what does you owning the building mean exactly?”

Lindsey shrugged. “It means I can waltz in there and ask where Mr. Eliazer lives, and if they have no name like that, I can ask some off-the-record questions about comings and goings of big, tough-looking men.”

“No shit.”

Lindsey laughed. “So, are we waiting for Paris’s pa—uh, family to get here?”

Cole shook his head. He wanted to jump out the window and run into the building. He knew why Eliazer wanted Paris, and it wasn’t for dance lessons. “Hell no. But I hate to put you in harm’s way.”

“Darling, you’re the one diving into the macho male pool. I’m just asking a few questions and providing, shall we say, backup? Let’s go.”

Cole looked at Helena. “Stay here, no matter what, okay?”

She nodded.

He threw open the door and got out onto the sidewalk with Lindsey behind him. They’d have to walk around the building to the entrance.

Even though Cole had changed into black jeans and a sweatshirt, Linds remained elegantly casual. Good thing, considering the “rich guy” image he needed to convey. Cole touched his arm. “Should I wait for you out here?”

“No. I expect there’s no easy back way into this building, so I think the security guards should see you with me. Then if you’re caught on any cameras, they won’t call out the cavalry.”

They started walking toward the entrance.

Linds looked over at Cole. “Have any ideas what we’re doing?”

“Nope. Playing it by ear.”

“Have you got a gun?”

“Hell yeah.”

Lindsey grinned. “Me too.”

* * *

What a beauty.

Nikel pressed the button again and peered at the monitor, watching Anthony on his bed. Release just a little more sedative into the air and he’d be out. The dancer’s eyes closed, and slowly that lean body relaxed. Good. He’d been fighting sleep for an hour. He needed to sleep. Nikel needed him to sleep too.

He turned to the enforcer watching the surveillance screens. “Turn off this monitor now.”

“Yes, sir.” The wolf got the tiniest smirk on his lips. Good cause to replace him as soon as he’d finished with Anthony. Killing might be in order.

Nikel watched as the monitor went dark; then he opened the hidden door into the bedroom and slipped in. Anthony didn’t move.

Nikel pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the walky-talky feature. “Hit the suction.”

A soft hiss indicated that the remainder of the sedative spray was being vacuumed up. Anthony might wake up in the middle, but that wouldn’t be the worst thing. He might fight, which could be fun.

Nikel undid his belt and fly. He’d told Anthony he had patience, but he’d lied. He’d waited for this dancer long enough, and his cock ached. A good hard fuck would set them both to rights. Wooing could come later.

He kicked off his shoes, pulled his jeans off, and threw them on the chair beside the bed. A quick search of the bedside drawer turned up the lube he’d stashed there hoping Anthony would jerk off with it. That would be fun to watch.

He sat on the bed and opened the lube with his teeth. A glop on two fingers ought to do the job. Of course, he did have a fatty. He smiled and rolled Anthony farther on his side, pulled up the robe, then inserted the fingers in his ass. The boy moaned but didn’t wake.

Oh God! That was heaven. Hot and tight like the boy didn’t get nearly enough fucking. He’d change that in a hurry. He shoved the fingers in and out quickly. Enough lube. He started to shake. Damn, he needed his cock in there—

A buzz came from his pocket. Shit and damnation! Someone would die for sure.

He lay on his side and positioned his cock.

Two buzzes.

Hellfire. Obviously they wouldn’t stop until he killed them.

He slid to the side of the bed and fished his phone from his pants. Damn, his erection was softening. He grabbed hold and yanked as he hit reply. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Sir, I’m so sorry, but the owner of the building is here and wants to speak to you.”

“The owner of the—what the fuck! Do you think I care? Why would you bother me for some tradesman?”

The wolf sounded frightened and lowered his voice. “Sir, this is a, uh, real gentleman who says he has to speak to you about refunding your deposit. He’s not taking no for an answer.”

Refund? The rent on this building was astronomical. He could use a refund. “Tell him to wait.”

He looked longingly at Anthony. Oh well, the boy could stand a little more sedation later. And he’d never be able to relax with this idiot owner hanging around.

He grabbed his jeans, pulled them on over a flaccid penis, and slipped on his loafers. Okay, Mr. Owner, let’s see who the hell you are.

He opened the secret door and walked back into the surveillance camera room. “Show me the floor lobby.” The operator hit a button and the image came up on the big screen.

“Son of a bitch.” Standing in the lobby outside his apartments was the elegant wolf he’d seen at the Black Leopard. Vanessen. Did he own this building? He wouldn’t be surprised. “Widen the view.” No one else but his three enforcers. But once again this wolf showed up around Anthony. That was no fucking coincidence.

He pulled out his phone and buzzed the guard. “Don’t let that man get away—” As he spoke the words, he watched the elegant wolf casually remove a gun from his jacket pocket. Through the phone, he heard the wolf say, “I would suggest all of you remove your weapons and drop them on the floor, and if you think you can best me being three to one and all, know that I’m an expert shot and my gun has special, ah, shall we say wolf-killing ammunition.” His smile on the monitor looked cold.

Nikel screamed, “Kill him, you idiot!”

One guard ripped a gun from his shoulder holster, but before he could get it aimed, a soft pop sounded and the gun flew out of his hand.

“Oh, did I forget to mention my companion?” The elegant wolf stepped back and aimed intently at the other enforcers as the big wolf from the club stepped into the picture. Damnation!

His guards looked like cows, not wolves. They removed their weapons and dropped them. The guard in the surveillance room looked up at Nikel. “Uh, shall I go out there or stay here and protect you, sir?” His eyes clearly said he preferred the latter.

Damn, he should kill the coward himself. He should kill them all.

* * *

Cole pressed his gun against the back of the enforcer. “Open it or you’re a dead wolf.”

The man did as requested and keyed open the door to the apartment. Cole pushed him toward the floor. “Sit there and don’t move.” He looked up at Linds. Amazing. What a friend. “Okay?”

Lindsey smiled grimly as he pointed the gun at the big wolves sitting side by side against the wall. “I’ve got this.”

Cole shook his head. Who knew the guy was an expert marksman? But right now, he just hoped he wasn’t too late.

He stepped into the foyer of the plush apartment with his gun ready. Nobody. A few steps down the entry hall, he peered into an open living room. The place had to be monitored. He looked up. Yeah. But cameras couldn’t shoot. He rushed across the carpet toward what seemed to be the bedroom door, partly closed. He shuddered. What would he find?

Trying not to squeeze the gun too hard, he nudged open the door with his knee. No movement. He stepped in. Oh shit.

Paris lay on his side on the bed, dead still. The same robe he’d been wearing when Cole last saw him was bunched around his hips, and his slim, taut ass shone like pale marble in the dying light from the window.

Cole took a step forward like he’d been pulled by a cord. He stopped and looked around. No one. His heart beat too hard, but he couldn’t breathe. Two steps. Three. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. And he knew. He didn’t want to breathe ever again if Paris wasn’t breathing. Weird. The cat didn’t want him. Maybe he didn’t even want the cat. But he couldn’t live if Paris was dead.

Slowly, he lowered his head and pressed it to that unmoving back.

Shhh. Ahhh. So soft. So slight. But alive.

Cole sat up and breathed. Drugs. Eliazer had put Paris to sleep. Shit! How had he hurt him?

He stared at that bare butt. No marks, no semen. He could smell a lingering scent of lust but not enough to suggest rape. Still, the shine of lube streaked across Paris’s ass. Cole’s wolf growled, teeth bared, in his heart. Eliazer deserved to die, and Cole loved giving people what they deserved.

But there was no time for hate. He had to get Paris out of there.

He put his gun away, leaned over, and gathered the robe around the slim body. Come on, kitty. Mmmff. He was heavier than he looked. All those dancer’s muscles. The sleeping body reeked of fear, anger, and frustration. But he still smelled like one sexy cat.

Cole hefted Paris, walked to the other side of the room, and looked out into the living room. Still no one. Where the hell was Eliazer? He’d been here. The enforcer had called him. It really seemed like they had arrived literally in the nick of time. It gave him the heebies to think about it. But probably just as well Eliazer wasn’t there. Cole might want to take on an army single-handed, but as a tactical strategy it was a crappy idea.

He looked down. The beautiful sleeping face looked troubled. Cole whispered, “It’s okay, cat, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

A long, deep sigh. With his eyes still tightly closed, Paris pressed his head against Cole’s shoulder and smiled.

At the door to the hall, he listened. Voices, wolf smell seeped under the door. Landon. Marketo. He pushed the lever down with his elbow and kicked open the door.

The rumblings of ten Marketo enforcers plus the alpha himself hit Cole like a wall. They might be pack, but they were still a group. He tightened his arms on Paris.

Lindsey’s voice cut through, elegant and commanding. “Step back and let him through, for God’s sake.”

Cole put his back to the wall and stared at the Marketos. Interest, challenge, maybe a little derision. After all, he was holding a barely dressed male beauty in his arms. Fuck ’em all.

Merced stepped closer. “Is he all right? Did they hurt him?” He reached out his arms as if to take Paris from Cole.

Cole felt the rumble in his own chest. His lip rose in a quiet snarl.

Merced’s eyes widened.

Lindsey stepped up and put a strategic hand on Merced’s chest. “Not wise, dear fellow. Cole’s not too reasonable when it comes to your kitty.” He stared down at Paris’s face. “I’m no doctor, but he looks asleep. Probably drugged. Now step aside and let us get Paris to someplace he can be cared for.”

Merced frowned. “And where might that be?”

Lindsey laughed. “Wherever Cole decides.”

* * *

Nikel gasped for breath on the last flight down. Shit, fifteen fucking floors. But he had to get out of there. After all, wolves ran in packs. Where there were two, more were sure to follow.

How the hell had someone found him there? And who were they? Why did they want Anthony? The boy must be even more special than he’d thought. All the more reason to get him back.

He opened the emergency door a crack. It would sound in the building’s security office, but he’d be long gone before they got there. A step out and a quick glance. All clear. He moved down the side of the building toward the entrance. Yes, he should escape, but he had to know who had robbed him of Anthony and made his enforcers look like little girls. He had to know who to kill.

He stared around the corner, then pulled back. Merced fucking Marketo. What did he have to do with this? He glanced again. That big wolf was holding Anthony. God, he wanted to kill him now.

He turned and hurried back toward the private lot where they’d put his car. It didn’t really matter how Marketo was involved. He was a dead wolf anyway. But what was the connection?

He grabbed his phone and hit speed dial.

“Yes, sir.”

“Kurt, what do those humans say about that marriage of Marketo’s daughter? Was it to the Harker alphanta?”

“They think maybe that was the intention, but it never happened. The female ran off with some human.”

“Good.” He clicked off. So no alliance for the Harkers. He could destroy them first and then deal with the Marketos at his leisure. Or maybe he’d kill them all at once in a big statement. His enforcers would love that. Give them more females to fuck. He smiled. Of course, some of them liked to fuck males. And some of them liked to screw with knives. They could have their fun. It would endear him to them further.

But he had his priorities straight. Get his dancer first, then kill the Harkers.

Chapter Thirteen

Paris opened his eyes. Soft light and the smell of wolf. The right wolf. He breathed deeply and tried his body. It moved against fresh, clean sheets. No pain. Dear God, he’d been rescued. He couldn’t believe it. His hands trembled.

He raised his head. He’d never been in this bedroom before, but he’d know it anywhere. Simple, spare, comfortable. Big fireplace and a couple of easy chairs. It spoke so loudly of Cole. More loudly than the wolf ever spoke himself.

Paris sat up. Aha. The wolf himself—lying on a big, soft-looking couch, sound asleep.

How the hell did he get there? Warm, safe, and—free. Oh God, free.

The shaking traveled from his hands to his heart and moved out. Trapped. He’d been trapped. Eliazer. The gangster could have beaten and tortured him. Raped him. But nothing could have been worse than closing him in. Nothing.

The moan seeped out by itself like some cat in pain. Was that him? Oh God, cold. “Ohhhh.” He’d been trapped. Alone. So alone. “Noooooo.”

The big body landed next to him with a thud. “Paris. Are you okay? What hurts?”

He looked up into those huge, silver eyes. “You saved me.”

Cole nodded. “I helped.”

“He trapped me.”

“I know. But not anymore.”

Paris’s head swung back and forth on its own. “Can’t be trapped. Can’t be closed in.” His body shook but he couldn’t make it stop. Tears ran down his face. So embarrassing. “Noooo.”

Big, warm arms came around him. “It’s okay, cat. Nobody has you.” His voice got so soft Paris could barely hear it. “Not even me.”

He tried to breathe and hiccupped instead.

Cole held him tight. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe and free.”

Free.

Safe. He sucked in a breath. Not because he was a brilliant cat who could take care of himself. Fuck no. He burrowed farther into Cole’s arms. “Th-thank you for coming for me. I didn’t think anyone would come.”

Cole held him and rocked a little, and he gradually stopped shaking. Some brave, fucking independent cat he was. He took a deep breath and felt energy move out into his arms and hands. Not bound, not trapped. Free. Free because of Cole. Nothing he’d ever done had earned him the kindness and devotion of the big wolf. And yet, here it was.

The idea leaped into his mind like Athena from the head of Zeus—or one of those Olympian dudes, anyway. He sat back, pulling himself out of the big wolf’s arms. “Is my father here?”

“Yes. He’s downstairs with Landon and Crystal. Your mom’s here too. Merced came to save you with part of the pack.” He smiled. “Lindsey and I just got there first.”

Paris frowned. “Lindsey. It seems I’m beholden to him more and more.”

“He’s a good guy.”

Paris raised an eyebrow. “But much too pretty.” He took a deep breath. “So now I suppose you’ll be going to war with Eliazer because of me.”

Cole shrugged. “We would have anyway. Now I just have more reason to kill him.” He bared his teeth.

Paris breathed in that lush wolf smell. All home and hearth and shit he hated. “Could you ask Merced and your father to come up here, please?”

Cole looked surprised. “Sure.”

That big back with the wide shoulders, narrow hips, and killer butt looked mouth-watering walking out of the room. Speaking of which, he’d better cover his own bare butt.

He jumped out of bed and saw a pair of jeans that looked like his and a sweater folded on the arm of the couch. He slipped them on, then looked for shoes. It might be June, but his feet were cold. A pair of sneakers peeked out from under the couch. He slid them on and laughed. Clearly designed for paws much larger than his. He sat on the couch and pulled his bare feet under him.

Okay cat, think. What the hell are you doing? He sighed. The only thing he could do. He’d never be free with this kind of debt hanging over him.

He heard sounds outside the door. They were coming. Inhale. Exhale. He could do this.

Cole opened the door and stepped back. Merced guided Trixie through the door and followed her, with Landon and Crystal behind them. He hadn’t counted on the mothers, but what the hell.

Trixie gave a squeal, ran across the room, and threw her arms around Paris’s neck. Whoa. His mother was usually not this demonstrative. He patted her back and kissed her cheek. “I’m okay. Really. Thanks to Cole.”

She pulled back and looked at him closely, smoothing his hair away from his face. “Yes, thanks to Cole. And no one else.” She frowned and looked pointedly at Merced, then sat back and settled in on the couch beside him.

His father stuck out his hand and Paris took it. “Glad you’re safe, son. I never dreamed that our pack problems would put you in danger.”

Paris shook his head. “They didn’t.”

“What?”

Paris motioned toward the chairs. Merced sat across from him, and Landon took the other guest chair. Crystal sat beside Trixie on the couch. Females united.

Cole opened a drawer in his bureau and pulled out a pair of socks that he tossed to Paris. Sweet wolf. Worried about his feet.

He pulled on the socks and laughed when they flopped over on the end. Everyone joined in and the tension in the room dropped a decibel or two.

Paris looked at his dad. “Oddly enough, I don’t think Eliazer has a clue who I am. In fact, I’m not sure he even knows I’m a wolf. He kidnapped me for reasons having nothing to do with wolf politics.” He shuddered.

Trixie pressed her head against his arm. “Oh God, did he hurt you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Cole leaned against the arm of his father’s chair. “The doctor says—” He dropped his eyes.

Oh shit. “What?”

Landon nodded. “Go ahead, Cole. Everyone here wants to know.”

Cole swallowed hard. “Someone penetrated Paris’s body, but it appears to be with their fingers. I can confirm that by smell. When I found Paris, I caught the scent of lube but no semen. And the smell of Eliazer.”

Merced leapt to his feet. “Shit!”

Cole nodded. “Technically it’s rape, but thank God it wasn’t worse.”

Paris shuddered. The whole thing gave him the creeps.

Trixie wiped her cheek. “Thank God you got there when you did.”

Hell, that was true. Okay, get to it, cat. Paris leaned forward. “But even if Eliazer can’t find out what I am, it’s only going to take him a couple minutes to discover that Cole is alphanta of the Harker Pack and that Lindsey is also a pack member. This means he’ll bring twice the army to attack you. Rather than just stealing some of your territory, he’ll try to destroy everything and everyone.”

Landon wiped a hand across his eyes. “I already came to this conclusion.”

“So the alliance is of paramount importance.” He nodded toward his father.

“Chances are Eliazer knows you were there. We only captured four of his enforcers. One must have been in a surveillance room, and he got away. Even if Eliazer didn’t see you and the pack arrive, that soldier did. That means you’re as much a target as Harker Pack.”

Merced shifted in his chair. “I know that’s likely true. We all have a reason to hate Eliazer. But I don’t know if I can convince my top males to go along with a war. They feel like tying our fortunes to Harker may be asking for trouble.”

Paris shrugged. “So convince them.”

Merced stared at his hands. “I lost some clout when your sister ran away. If I push the issue, I could be challenged.”

Shit, he’d left his father a sitting duck. “But if the alliance is in blood?”

Merced shrugged. “It would have been unassailable. As it is—”

Paris let out his breath then sucked it in. “As it is, you’ll have to settle for me.”

Cole pushed off from the chair. “What the fuck? Excuse me, Mrs. Marketo.”

Merced frowned. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Get a justice of the peace and marry me and Cole. That will cement the alliance. Then you have him as your general. I’d suggest you line up that Vanessen wolf for some strategy, since he seems pretty damned smart to me.”

Cole’s face looked like he’d been hit. “And you?”

Paris sighed. Yeah, what about me? “Since Eliazer is likely to move a few mountains to grab me, I figure I better get out of town. Away from this mess. If he can’t find me, he can’t have me, and your war will be about the issues of land and power. Not quite as passionate as sex and power.” He wiped his palms on the jeans. “So let’s get the marriage done, because I’m pretty sure Eliazer will attack as soon as he musters the wolfpower.”

Landon frowned. “Why are you doing this now?”

Paris stared at him steadily. He seemed like a good wolf. “I’m not a pack animal. I don’t like obligations, but clearly I have some. And as has been pointed out to me, it’s about time the Marketos started keeping their word.”

Stomping feet. Paris looked up.

The door slammed on Cole’s retreating back.

* * *

“You have to do it, Cole. I’m sorry.”

Cole shook his head.

“I don’t want to remind you that you doubled our jeopardy by rescuing Paris Marketo. This war will be ugly. An alliance is the only way.”

Cole jumped out of the guest chair in front of his father’s desk. “Will you people never stop manipulating my life?”

Landon looked shocked.

Crystal remained stone-faced. “He’s right this time. This is the only way. I’m sorry.”

Cole walked toward the door, turned, and strode halfway back to where his mother was sitting. “Okay, I’ll fight your fucking war. And if I live, I’m done. No alpha. Find somebody else. I’m out of here.”

“Cole—”

He walked out the door.

* * *

Get the fuck out of my way.

Cole strode up to the pack hall and shouldered his way through the gathering of Harker and Marketo wolves. Get this fucking over with.

Males stuck out their hands. He nodded and kept walking. None of the pack members knew for sure why they were there, but the place reeked of fear and anger.

Inside, the crush was greater. This was no pretty pink ceremony. Just a prelude to war.

“Hi, Cole.”

“Hey, Cole.”

“Good evening, Alphanta.”

A few who hailed him were Marketos. Some stepped away as if he was catching.

He nodded. They only had to follow him for another day or two. Then they could all get back to their narrow-minded lives.

Up where the betrothal ceremony had taken place, what seemed like a century ago, someone had set up a stand. Sitting on one side of it was fucking take-your-breath-away Marketo.

Cole wore the same black jeans and shirt he’d saved Paris in. More war than wedding. Paris was also casual, but he redefined the word. He wore a white sweater and pale-tan jeans. The whole thing next to his midnight hair made him look like the fucking Snow Queen or a virginal bride. Cole would have laughed if his cock wasn’t creeping down his leg. It was hard to snark at beauty like that.

Cole sat in a chair halfway back in the room. People milled about, but they seemed to sense they should leave him alone. Good call.

He stared out the window at the trees. He’d like a house in the woods—of his own. Time to be a grown-up. What had Paris said? A political pawn? Yeah. That summed it up. And Paris was the best fucking politician of them all. Obligation, my ass.

He’d felt he couldn’t live if he didn’t save Paris. Paris was saved. Cole could live. Live without him.

He wiped a hand over his head and stared out the window again. Maybe. Maybe he could live without him.

He blew his breath out. Somewhere in the middle of Paris’s godforsaken pronouncement last night, Cole had known.

He glanced up at the cat’s face. What did that blank, beautiful expression mean? So he’d do this thing. Paris would repay his obligation and leave.

Cole sighed. And he would lose his mate.

How ironic. He’d dreamed of finding his one true partner. The one who would mate him for life. And that one true partner was maybe the only wolf on earth who could walk away from that bond and never look back. Cats don’t mate for life.

Landon stepped to the center of the space. “Let’s get started.”

Wolves gathered in chairs and stood against the back walls, mostly staying with their own packs. Rumors of war had spread enough to have the pack members worried. Really worried.

Landon led off. “Most of you have heard that we’re in for a fight. Nikel Eliazer wants Harker land. A lot of Harker land. In fact, I’d imagine he now wants to wipe us out and take it all.”

A big buzz went up in the crowd at that statement.

“He also wants to decimate Pack Marketo.”

This got a big shout.

“Why?”

“What does he want?”

One of the Marketo seconds stepped forward. “Does he want our land too?”

Landon nodded. “Probably. But mostly he wants your alpha’s son.”

Chaos. People turned to each other and the sound rose.

Landon yelled, “Enough.” Gradually the sound died.

The big wolf—probably the one who would challenge Merced in a fight—spoke, and a few others gathered behind him. “So why doesn’t the kid, uh, Paris Marketo just leave? Then we’re out of harm’s way.”

Paris stood up. “I am leaving, but seriously, how naïve do you have to be to think Eliazer will wipe out the Harkers and leave Marketo alone? He’ll take everything you have. The only thing he won’t get will be me.” The sneer in the cat’s voice took the wolf down a peg, and a few pack members stepped away from him. Good sign.

Landon nodded. “Thank you, Paris.” He looked around the group. “As the old saying goes, we hang together or we’ll all hang separately. Our only chance is an alliance.”

A murmur went through the packs.

“The Alphanta Cole has sacrificed his life so that our packs can survive. He’s agreed to an alliance in blood with Paris Marketo.”

The big wolf bellowed, “What the fuck?”

Landon growled and the guy stepped back.

“Since they’re both the firstborn sons of alphas and offspring of mated pairs, their blood will bind. Same-sex marriage is legal in Connecticut and New York, so we have the official here to conduct the ceremony.”

The wolf pointed toward Paris. “That guy’s not even a wolf. I don’t know what the hell he is.”

For the first time, Merced Marketo stood up. “Anthony Paris Marketo is my son by my mate, the alpha panther domme Lazia, who died in birthing him. He is full-blooded alpha beyond anyone in this room except Cole Harker and would follow me if he were not more of his mother’s panther nature. He’s agreed to do this to save our packs.”

The room went crazy. Half panther? Nobody had ever dreamed of it, much less heard of it.

Cole shifted in his chair. Paris had agreed to do it to save the packs. Not because he wanted to marry Cole. Thanks for the fucking reminder.

The big wolf growled. “But gay wolves getting married. What a crap alliance.”

Enough. Cole sprang out of his chair. “Wo-would you l-like to see what a fucking gay werewolf can do?” Well, that got words out of his mouth.

The big Marketo looked shocked. “Uh, no. Sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean you.”

Paris stood up. “Would you like to try me?”

The wolf’s head snapped back to Paris. The cat was half the wolf’s size, but something about him radiated lethality.

Paris stalked a couple of steps toward the wolf. “Or would you rather focus your energies and strength on defeating Eliazer and give this alliance your blessing?”

The wolf stared at Paris. “Uh, yeah, sure. That’s what we need to do. Let’s get on with it.”

Paris had managed to bring the dissenting werewolves all into the fold on the coattails of their leader by allowing him to save face. Wow, what a politician.

Landon gestured to a wolf in the group. “We’re honored to have a member of Marketo Pack to conduct the ceremony. Judge Unger.”

An older wolf walked up beside Landon. “Will the celebrants please join me?”

Oh shit. Could he walk up there? His legs were shaking so bad he felt like he had a disease. He’d dreamed of getting married someday. Having someone to love who would love him back. Someone just for him, not the pack. And now that was gone, like everything else.

How could you feel this sad and still fight? And still live?

Slowly, he took a step forward. All the eyes of all the wolves in the big hall crawled over his skin. Running sounded so good.

He glanced up and found gold eyes fixed on him. What was the cat feeling? The cat who hated pack and was now sacrificing his freedom to it. True, Paris would leave as soon as this ceremony was over, but legally, he and Cole would be united forever. Or until someone ended it. The two of them would wander the world alone with invisible ties of obligation connecting them. Yeah, Cole knew how Paris felt. He hated it.

He inhaled and walked up beside the judge. Paris stepped over to him, and the sweet smell of cat oozed into his blood. What would this be like if it was real?

Don’t go there.

He and Paris didn’t touch.

The judge spoke. “Members of the Harker and Marketo Packs. In the community of wolves, marriage is a revered and honored state, akin to blood in the seriousness of the relationship. We are not humans. We don’t enter this contract with the idea that it can be changed later. Wolves wed forever.”

His right knee collapsed and Cole stumbled. Paris caught his arm. Their eyes met, and Cole felt the tremble in the cat’s paw.

The judge lowered his voice. “Are you all right?”

Cole nodded. Paris let him go.

The judge went on. “This union will not only unite Anthony Paris Marketo and Cole Harker in matrimony, it will unite the Marketo and Harker Packs through blood. If anyone knows of any reason why this union should not occur, speak now.”

The room held its breath. Cole’s throat tightened. For the first time, he actually wanted to speak in front of a crowd. But no sound.

“Anthony Paris Marketo, do you take this man, Cole Harker, as your husband?”

That was it? No loving or cherishing, no sickness or health? The “as long as you both shall live” was already implied.

Paris spoke clearly in that satiny voice. “I do.”

A little murmur raced through the crowd like maybe they hadn’t believed it.

“Do you, Cole Harker, take Anthony Paris Marketo as your husband?”

Gone. Everything given away. “I—I, uh, do.”

“Then by the power given me by the State, I pronounce you married partners with all the rights and responsibilities of the union.”

Landon’s voice came from behind them. “Cole, Paris, please seal the union in blood.”

They both turned. Cole pushed up his sweatshirt sleeve and bared his wrist. His father held a small knife. He made a tiny cut in Cole’s skin and inserted a stylus, sucking up a small measure of blood. Cole took the stylus and signed on the bottom of the contract. Landon repeated the same steps for Paris, who also signed. Then they faced each other.

Cole was supposed to take the knife and prick Paris’s neck. He glanced around the room at the rapt wolves. Tomorrow, he had to lead them to war. He wasn’t much for drama, but hell.

He raised his hand just enough to make it clearly visible to most of the pack members, then sent a ripple of energy into his finger. With a sear of heat up his hand, a wolf claw appeared.

The place erupted. That kind of power seldom happened in wolves. The ability to shift at will down to a finger required incredible control. They’d never seen it before. Cole glanced up at Landon, who winked.

Cole reached out and pricked Paris’s silky neck. A tiny drop of blood welled on the pure white skin. “I am your partner.” He leaned in and licked the blood clean, healing the wound. The sharp, sweet taste and smell of cat, that cat, flashed through his head. God, like a drug. “Ohhh.” Paris shivered at Cole’s whimper.

Cole shook himself. Get over it. He stood upright.

Landon offered the knife to Paris. The cat looked at him with narrowed eyes, then raised his slim, white hand and changed it into a cat’s paw with all claws extended.

“Oh.”

“God, what’s that!”

Wolves jumped back.

Well, son of a bitch.

The sheer impact of seeing a panther, or a piece of cat, manifest in their midst shocked the hell out of them.

Paris reached out the paw, dragged the silky, furry side across Cole’s neck, then turned it and pricked the skin. Cole jumped more from the fur than the claw.

Paris leaned in. “I am your partner.” The cat’s tongue stroked Cole’s neck a second longer than necessary, and then Paris stood back with just a hint of a smile.

Killing the little bastard was an option. Although, shit, he’d probably like to fuck him to death.

Landon held up the contract. “We have the alliance in blood. Pack Harker and Pack Marketo are united.”

Wolves applauded, some enthusiastically and some begrudgingly, but the sound was loud enough to honor the occasion.

Marketo stepped forward. “We have food for everyone, but following our feast we must begin our planning for war. I’m sorry, but it’s unlikely that Eliazer will give us time to party very long.”

Wolves descended on the buffet tables like the last supper.

Cole took a breath and turned to Paris. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Saving the packs.”

“I didn’t save the packs, wolf. I saved my father and mother—and you. Thank you for rescuing me. I would have died in confinement.”

Cole nodded. Words were a problem.

Paris smiled. “Now we’re even.”

Crap, the top of his head was coming off. “Even?” He glanced around at the curious faces staring at them and lowered his voice to a hiss. “I rescued you because I fucking cared if you lived or died. Because I didn’t want to live if you weren’t alive. You married me to wipe out that debt.” He snarled across his teeth. “We’ll never be even.”

And he walked toward the pack chiefs gathering on the other side of the room to plan the war.

Chapter Fourteen

Maybe he could sleep through the war. Cole dragged himself through the door of his bedroom and didn’t even turn on the lights. Hell, it was practically morning anyway. The smell of cat swirled in his head. He hadn’t changed the sheets since Paris slept in the bed. Man, had that only been last night?

He kicked off his shoes and leaned over to get rid of the socks.

They’d set the sentries and had the wolves with engineering experience bulwarking their tree towers, while those with strong backs dug pits. The enforcers had automatic weapons, but Cole would certify those not already approved for arms-carrying in the morning.

Morning. Would he live through tomorrow? Did he care?

He pulled off his clothes, tossed them in a heap, and stumbled across the floor until he could collapse on the bed.

Shit! He jumped back and scrambled for the handgun in his pocket lying somewhere on the floor.

The chocolate voice oozed across the room. “Don’t freak out, Puppy.”

“What the fuck, Paris?”

The cat flipped on a small bedside light.

Paris lay on the bed wearing only his light-colored jeans. His black hair fell over his wide, pale shoulders like a moonless night against the snow. In the soft light, his golden eyes glittered and danced.

Cole shook his head to clear it. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

“We haven’t had our wedding night.”

“Wedding night? Give me a break. We didn’t have a wedding, we won’t have a marriage, and we don’t need a wedding night.”

“I think we do.”

Cole sighed, too tired for this. He sat in the armchair by the fireplace and flopped his legs over the arm. “Why?”

“Sex is what we do best, Puppy.”

He had him there. His cock was ready to stand up and vote, but he wasn’t his cock. Most of the time. He closed his eyes and focused on his heart. “Okay, I’m going to tell you the truth, and that will get you out of my bed and running for whatever hills you plan to inhabit.”

He opened his eyes and stared at the beautiful face. “I care about you, Paris.” He shook his head. “Sorry, that’s the alpha male way of saying I probably love you. I’ve looked into my soul, heart, whatever, and I actually think we’re mates. Strange as that may sound. I know it means nothing to a panther. Or not much. You don’t mate for life. Your mother could have walked away from Merced had she lived. But he would never have left her. And that’s me, you see. Stuck. With you.”

He flopped his feet on the floor and leaned his head into his hands for a minute, then looked up and sighed. “I’d love to have sex with you. As you say, we’re damned good at it. But maybe that just makes the rest of my life harder.”

Silence.

“Shit, wolf, you may not live past tomorrow.”

A flying body, all white skin and silky hair, sailed through the air. Heads up. Cole caught the wriggling feline and pressed their mouths together so hard their teeth clicked. But then his tongue took over. Nothing on earth tasted like this cat. The memory of the acid flash of Paris’s blood hitting Cole’s tongue filled his mind and his cock revved into overdrive.

How bad was this idea?

Crappy.

Didn’t care.

He cradled the cat in his arms and kissed like there was no tomorrow, because there wasn’t. Tongue deep, exploring, and tasting. Feeling that warm, moist heat in Paris’s mouth upped his desire for other hot orifices. His cock throbbed. Damn, the denim rubbing on his dick felt half good and half too much.

Still kissing, he slid down the zipper on Paris’s tight wedding jeans and found a waiting resident primed to escape. Crank that cock. He wrapped his big hand around the hot meat and began to pump.

Paris threw back his head. “Be careful, Puppy. I waited a long time thinking about your cock in my ass while you were playing G.I. Werewolf. I’m ready to blow. And I know right where I want your cock when I do.”

Cole nibbled that smooth chest. “Where, cat? Tell me.”

“So deep in my ass you’ll tickle my vocal cords. When you come, I want to drip for a week.”

“Hey, gotta meet the bride’s desires, right?” Shit! The words were out before he could grab them. Heat flashed behind his eyes and his hands started to shake.

Paris looked at him, then touched his cheek with one finger. “Right, make your bride happy.” He wrapped his arms around Cole’s neck.

Pay attention. You’ll want to remember this moment later.

Cole gathered that beautiful body with the hard erect penis standing up in its lap. He stood and carried his bride across the threshold of—forever and laid him on the bed. He pulled Paris’s jeans off, leaving him perfectly nude. Yeah, perfect was the word.

Paris propped up on his elbows and watched as Cole pulled the black shirt over his head. He smiled. “I tease a lot, but you really are magnificent. So big and beautiful and capable.”

Cole shook his head. “Just a tongue-tied, gay, weird werewolf.”

“That’s just another way of saying strong and silent, loving, and unique.”

Cole looked down into those gold eyes. “If I’m so great, why don’t you like me better?”

Paris sat up. “I like you fine. In fact, I like you better than anybody on the planet. I’m just a cat.”

Cole frowned. “You’re half wolf.”

“Not the half that took.” He patted the bed. “Come on, Puppy, fuck me or I’ll yowl on your back fence all night.”

Crap. Choose between a broken heart and a raging hard-on. But if this was the last, he couldn’t walk away. If this was all he got, he wanted every touch and taste.

Cole pulled off his jeans and balanced one knee on the bed. Paris reached up to the pillow where he’d rested a tube of lube and tossed it to Cole. “Grease up, pup. I did me.” He stuck a finger into his own ass. Holy crap, was that gorgeous.

“So you got bored waiting.” Cole slicked his hands and rubbed the lube on his cock, which felt way too good. Better quit quick.

“I just didn’t want to waste time on fingers. Want to get right to the good stuff.”

“Here it comes.”

Cole grasped his cock. Paris rolled back in a center-ring move until his knees rested beside his ears and his hole gaped open and shone with his self-applied lube.

Stuck, Cole stared. “You are kidding me.”

“Fuck me!”

“My pleasure.” Cole kneeled, poised the mushroom head of his penis right at that hole, and leaned his body weight down. And down. “God, cat, you used so much lube in there they might have to rescue arctic birds in your ass.”

Paris exploded laughing. That tickles! Laughter welled up Cole’s throat and poured out as his hips began to thrust in and out. Heat flamed in his balls. Grunts punctuated the hammering. Crap, so good. So good.

Paris’s giggles turned to wails. “Fuck me, Puppy. Fuck me hard. Oh God, yes. Don’t stop. Never stop.”

Never. Never.

Every nerve in his cock lit up and a stream like lava bubbled and boiled for escape. He fucked and fucked. Every time he connected with Paris’s bundle of prostate nerves, the cat’s whole body quivered like an electric circuit connected to Cole’s cock. Oh shit. Never stopping.

“Puppy, oh Puppy. I love—this. I love this.” His beautiful face contorted. “Don’t want to come. No. No. Oh God, yes!” Cum shot like water out of a fire hose from that perfect dick and splashed on Paris’s chin. Cole leaned down and licked it off. Fuck. Fuck.

“Sweet God, Cole.”

“Never stopping.”

“Come for me, baby.”

And he did. The flash of fire through his head blinded him. White, red, bright flashes. Beautiful, but nothing like the perfect joy that flowed through every molecule of blissful werewolf. Maybe this was enough. To have this always in his heart.

Paris’s legs collapsed beside Cole. The hammering of his heart made the skin on his satin chest tremble. Cole held himself on his forearms, then slid to the side and lay panting. His heart slowed a little.

No wasted moments. He rolled toward Paris and touched his chest gently. Memorize. Nothing had ever felt this soft before. He leaned down and buried his face in the mane of hair lying on the sheet. Cat smell. Paris smell. Best in the world.

He leaned over and touched Paris’s lips ever so gently. Those soft lips caressed him back. It was crap, but he loved this cat. Never stopping.

* * *

Paris walked down the aisle of the plane and slid his case into the overhead, glad they’d had first class at the last minute. It was a long flight. This way he’d get some sleep. Maybe.

Maybe not. He sat in the wide seat and pulled the magazine out of the seat pocket.

“Champagne before we take off, sir?”

He smiled up at the flight attendant. “Sure. That would be great.” Might as well celebrate. It was his wedding night. Yeah, and he was taking his honeymoon alone.

She came back with a stemmed glass and set it on the table beside his seat. “Here’s the menu for breakfast, sir. We’ll collect your order just after we take off. Make your selection and then you can sleep if you wish.”

“Thanks.”

She went on to another passenger. Paris picked up the glass and sipped. To marriage. Something else he was doing alone. But that was no new story. Hell, he numbered his days in solitude. And his nights? He sighed. In loneliness.

Just like his mother.

Wait! What the hell?

* * *

Nikel sat in a chair and watched Karl put the warehouse full of werewolves through their paces. They stood at attention, but there wasn’t any affection in those eyes. He’d bought them. Every one of them. And because he paid a few who were closest to them a lot of money, they helped keep the others in line.

Now he needed more money, more excitement, more sex to feed these hungry mouths. Harker and Marketo would provide all of it. He’d drain them, kill them, rape them, and maybe collect a few of their best fighters to grow his pack. Somewhere in the mix, he knew he’d find his boy. And that would be the sex and excitement he needed.

That big wolf who had stolen Anthony was Cole Harker, which meant this whole setup smelled to high heaven. Harker and Marketo were connected. But they couldn’t have an alliance since the girl had run off. Without blood, the connection would be weak. Good. They could die together.

Karl barked out orders. “Listen up. Graystock, lead the first group to the Harker house. Defeat them, search it—” He glanced at Nikel. Yes, they all knew what he wanted. “Then burn it to the ground. Arcturus, do the same at the Marketo mansion. It’s not as remote, so be stealthy. Get inside and take them out as quietly as you can. No fire.”

Nikel wanted that mansion.

“The rest of you come with me to the territory.” He smiled. “Our territory.”

The wolves raised their guns and shouted.

Karl marched over to Nikel and saluted. Oh, come on. “Sir, we will report back with our successful destruction of Harker and Marketo and the securing of the territory. Sir.”

The wolves shouted again.

A reasonable display. They’d get more excited when they saw the blood.

* * *

Cole opened his eyes and sat up all in one movement. His hand patted the sheets. Cold. Alone. Not surprising. He took a deep breath. Devastating but not surprising.

He glanced at the clock. 5:00 a.m.

Heartbreak later. He had a war to fight. Then he could leave—if he lived. Find something to be besides a too-sincere werewolf without his mate.

He pulled on heavy, dark jeans, a sweatshirt, and laced up some heavy boots. If he needed to shift, this stuff would go flying, but he’d mostly fight in human form since few wolves besides him and the alphas could shift on command, so battles in wolf form had to be planned.

Landon had the weaponry out in a special shed. Cole could get what he needed and monitor the distribution of guns to the other wolves.

He hurried down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Two young females and a young male poured coffee and seemed to be handing out food. He grabbed a handful of bacon, shoved it in his mouth, and took the offered cup of coffee with cream. “Thanks.” He sipped as he opened the back door and went out. Heads turned toward him. Shit. Wars were fought by groups.

An hour later, he’d worked with most of their fighters one at a time and assigned guns to the wolves who were competent with weaponry, both males and females. He grabbed some throwing knives and nunchakus for the more advanced fighters. They piled into trucks and took off for the land in the northern part of their territory. Of course, now Eliazer probably wanted everything Harker Pack had, but the battle would start on the northern land.

Still, Landon had left some serious fighters behind to defend both homes under Crystal and Lindsey’s leadership. The homes were in good hands. His mother could defend a small country. And Lindsey? Who knew he was as much a fighter as a lover?

They pulled into a small clearing off the long dirt path that led onto the land from a little-used back road. Cole leaped out of the truck cab, checked his Sig, and grabbed the AK-101. When he turned, a lot of the wolves from his own pack and a few Marketos were gathered.

He took a deep breath. He’d managed to deal with people in very small groups all morning, but this was a crowd. His throat closed and he looked around for Landon. No sign.

He swallowed hard. “Uh, scouting.” He nodded at the heavy stand of trees and started walking toward them.

“You going out sniffing, Cole?” It was Alf’s voice. Cole looked over his shoulder and nodded, then kept walking.

“Hey, Cole, where’s your husss-band?”

Cole stopped. It was a different voice, but one he knew. A sassy young wolf from his own pack. The Marketo who challenged him at the wedding had backed down, but this kid must figure he knew Cole and familiarity bred contempt.

Shift and run. That’s what he’d like to do, but no such fucking luck.

He turned. The kid was smiling, overly friendly, but several other wolves looked really uncomfortable. His stomach sank to his boot tops.

He did not want to deal with this. He could punch the guy out, but that wasn’t the way to build confidence in the wolves. But talking in front of all these staring eyes—no way.

He took a breath and turned back to the path into the trees. Just let it be. Go do your thing and leave the damned wolf to do his.

Wish Paris was here.

Soft laughter behind him. So familiar and just that bit derisive. He stopped. Gold eyes bored into his soul. What would the panther do? If Cole wanted to lead today, he’d better see that the rest of them followed. Shit!

He turned back to the group. The young wolf was flirting with a couple of the females.

Cole took another step forward. “You. Wh-what’s your name?”

He got some startled wolfy eyes looking at him. “Uh, me? I’m Ray.”

“So, Ray, uh, are, uh, you planning to… challenge… me?” He kept staring at Ray so he didn’t have to think about the others. “Want to lead the battle today?”

The kid’s eyes widened. “What? Oh no. No.”

Okay, you gotta look up. He raised his eyes. More had joined the group, probably to see what the ruckus was.

“Some of you… don’t know me. I, uh, don’t like to talk.” He swallowed.

Alf nodded. “That’s okay, Cole. We’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

Shit, breathe or you’ll pass out. “You know I’m alphanta.” Several heads nodded. “What you may not… know is… I’m stronger, faster….” His heart beat hard. “…and likely fucking smarter than any wolf here.” His voice got louder. “I’m also gay.”

He looked around the group. The group that was willing to take whatever he wanted to give but gave nothing in return. “So what?”

Heat flashed through his head and his tongue felt positively frisky. He stepped forward and several males stumbled back. “Where I like to stick my cock is none of your d-damned business. My life is….” He breathed. “…not at your disposal. My skills are.”

He made eye contact with the males in the front row. “So unless you’re planning to challenge me—in which case, g-get on with it—then g-give me the fucking respect due the alphanta of your pack.” He wheeled on the sassy kid. “And that includes my husband. Is that clear?”

The young wolf swallowed hard. “Yes, Alphanta.”

He looked up and saw Landon and Marketo standing by the trucks. His father had a little smile on his face. Good. Because that speech was for him too.

Cole looked at the assembled wolves. “I’m g-going in to do reconnaissance. Alf, come with me. Jess and Homer, you know where to go. Signal me. No phones.” He looked at the group, now quite serious. “The alphas will break you into two groups. You—you’re not dividing by pack. Learn to work—together. You’re related now. The pack we’re going up against is n-not nice. They’re gangsters. They use guns all the time and like to k-kill.”

He closed his eyes. Imagine Paris is here to say it for you. He raised his lids and gazed at the wolves in his circle. “But they’re b-bound to their leader by fear, not by love, and family, and respect like you are. That makes them weak. I’m sure Eliazer won’t be here. He lets others f-fight for him. So that makes them weaker. No real leader. Never underestimate them, but know that no matter how big or scary they seem, you can defeat them.”

He turned back to Landon. “I’ll meet you at the assembly point.” And he walked into the trees.

Two steps out of sight, his knees almost collapsed.

Alf grabbed his arm. “You okay, Cole?”

“Y-y-yes.”

His friend gave his arm a light punch. “I never heard you say that many words at one time.”

Cole shook his head. That cat sure had his impact. “I didn’t.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Let’s get going.”

* * *

Through the windshield, Nikel saw two big wolves in human form fighting ferociously, and another fifteen or so standing around cheering and throwing money on the ground. That fifteen included Karl, who was supposed to be in charge. The enforcer’s head turned as the SUV pulled in to the clearing. Yes, look worried, you ass.

The vehicle stopped and Nikel got out. By the time his boots hit the ground, the fight had broken up and several of the males moved toward him fawningly.

Karl stood erect. “Alpha. Surprised to see you, sir.”

“Obviously.” He looked around. “I don’t pay you to amuse yourselves. What’s being done to secure this territory? Where is the Harker pack?”

“Sir, we strung barbed wire around the area you indicated on the map, and I posted sentries at height within line of sight.” He shuffled his feet. “No contact with the Harkers.”

“And the units attacking the Harker and Marketo compounds?”

“Moving into place, sir.”

He raised his voice. “Remember, I want every square inch of Harker’s and Marketo’s territory searched for Anthony Moreau, the dancer. I want him found and returned to me. And I’m here to make sure you do it.”

“Glad to have you with us, sir.”

Nikel smiled. That was so not true.

* * *

Cole held up his hand and the line of pack members behind him shuffled to a stop. He sniffed the air. Enforcers. Eliazer enforcers. They were still too far away for most wolves to smell, but he could. That also meant they likely couldn’t smell his pack.

He leaned back to Alf. “Wait here.”

Alf sent the word back.

He handed a string to Alf and the wolf nodded. Primitive werewolf communications to overcome the chance of being heard by sharp ears.

Cole moved forward, as still as his wolf. Funny he could be so clumsy around people. But alone in the woods was home. He stepped without sound, a natural part of the wild. Five minutes later, the smell of enforcer was powerful. He scanned the trees above. There. A sentry. He crouched and watched the wolf. Bored but still pretty alert. The guy raised an arm and signaled. Farther down the tree line… yes, another sentry.

Cole pulled the string three times sharply. Alf would only sense the vibration, no real movement, but that was enough. Cole moved toward where he’d left the pack.

Halfway back, he met Alf and two other pack wolves coming toward him. They stepped close to him. “I saw two sentries in the trees. Chances are they’re all in line of sight, so take them out quietly and stand in their places until we get enough of them handled. Then come down and meet us.”

Alf grinned. “With pleasure.”

* * *

Lindsey pressed the cell phone to his ear as he stared out the window of the Marketo mansion. “You’re sure they’re close? Damn, my sense of smell is worthless. Some wolf I am.”

Crystal Harker’s deep, throaty laugh vibrated through the phone. “You’re all the wolf we need, Lindsey, and yes, I can smell them clearly. I have sharpshooters at all the upper windows. You do too, right?”

“Yes. But be ready to hide those weapons and look innocent as the driven snow when the cavalry comes.”

“We’re prepared. But if I have to take out one or two of those assholes, I’ll explain that as a poor vulnerable woman, I have a licensed weapon for protection.”

Lindsey laughed. “Okay, I’m calling. I’ll talk to you again in a few minutes.”

“Good luck.”

“Hopefully, we won’t need it.”

She hung up. Okay, step one. He dialed.

A woman’s voice answered. “Governor Mendes’s office.”

“Yes, hi. This is Lindsey Vanessen. Is he in?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Vanessen. Hold for a moment.”

Hold music. Come on. He looked out through the dining room window and saw bodies moving behind the stone wall. Odd that the Eliazers would risk a show of force this close to homes and people. Eliazer must want something damned bad. Yeah, and Lindsey knew right what it was.

“Hi, Lindsey. Are we up?”

Thank God. The governor. “Yes, I’m calling the local police right now.”

“Good. I have the state investigators on their way. Want National Guard?”

“I’m hoping it won’t be required. These guys are bad but not dumb.”

“You owe me some more details on this over drinks.”

“I’ll buy. Thanks again, Dave.” He clicked off. He’d have to think up some believable details before they had that drink. But Dave was a good man.

He dialed.

“Police Department.” A crisp female voice.

“Hi. My name is Lindsey Vanessen. I’m a local resident—”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Vanessen. How can I help you?” Coming from a prominent family had its perks.

“I need to speak to the police chief urgently. You should have received a private e-mail from the governor.”

She made a funny “eep” sound. “Uh, yes, sir. Right away.”

Dead air. A pop sounded and Lindsey jumped. The pack sniper must have taken out one of the Eliazers. Shit, hurry.

“Lindsey, what’s going on?”

“Hi, Chief, I’m at the Marketo home and I just heard from Crystal Harker. A bunch of gangsters from New York don’t want a joint venture between the two families to go through. Both homes are literally under attack with weapons.”

“But why—?”

“No time. Get here fast and to the Harker’s place. All your men. I’ve asked the governor for investigators. They’ll be here soon.”

“Shit, okay.”

Lindsey hung up.

Pop. Pop.

He pulled out his handgun and took aim through the kitchen window at two big wolves sliding over the fence. Maybe he had time to do some damage before he had to look innocent.

In the distance, he heard the satisfying sound of sirens.

* * *

World War Wolf!

Shit! Cole dove behind a tree as the rat-tat-tat of bullets firing and the ping of them hitting an inch from his ear drove him backward. Damn. He’d figured these enforcers would be like mercenaries who wouldn’t fight to the death. Instead, his pack had wiped out a handful of them and they kept on coming. What the hell was driving them?

He pressed his back to the bark and took a couple of breaths. At least two of his wolves were down, one a female. Werewolves were hard to kill, but fighters in the know used special bullets. Those things could wipe out your insides so you couldn’t heal. Let them not be dead.

He shouldered the AK, stepped out from behind the tree, and fired on three Eliazer wolves. One went down, not dead. Two sprang to the side. He glanced at Alf beside him. Damnation. He squeezed off two rounds into the wolf about to leap on Alf.

A knife flew at him and he leaped back.

A strong pair of hands grabbed him from behind. No way, asshole.

He flipped the assailant over his shoulder and raised his weapon when more hands grasped his elbow. Damn. He turned and kicked the guy behind him. Two more came at him. This wasn’t random. Shit.

His arm got pinned and the rifle went flying. He pulled one of the attackers off his feet, but two more grabbed him. There had to be five guys on him by now. Shitfire!

They started dragging him into the trees, his heels making ruts in the soft ground.

Where the hell were they taking him? They had him. Why didn’t they just shoot him?

The sounds of the fighting got a little softer as he struggled. The dragging stopped and strong hands grasped him tight. Someone behind him shoved him down on his knees.

He saw feet. Boots. Two got close to his head.

“Where the fuck is Anthony Moreau?”

Cole looked up. Well, shit. Here was the reason for the enforcers’ dedication. The fucking wolf. The pissed wolf. Eliazer wanted Anthony back enough to show up for the fight himself.

Cole shook his head. “Don’t know. Wouldn’t tell you if I did, but don’t know.”

A rifle butt smashed into his head, which drove him onto his hands. Damn! Slowly, he sat up and wiped his hands on his thighs. “Like I said. Don’t know.”

“Why were you following him? Why did you steal him from me?”

How to answer? Paris said Eliazer didn’t know that he was a wolf or a cat. No need to change that. If Cole died and Eliazer prevailed, he’d go looking for Anthony Moreau, not Paris Marketo. “I liked him too.”

Eliazer’s eyes about popped out of his skull. “He’s mine!”

Cole squinted up at the big, fat wolf. “Didn’t seem like he agreed.”

Veins stood out on Eliazer’s neck and temples. “Where did you take him?”

“To his apartment, but he ran. Next day he was gone and I don’t know how to find him. Probably never will.”

“So you’re no use to me at all.”

“Nope.”

“So why shouldn’t I kill you?”

Cole sighed. He’d said he wanted to go away. This could be going away permanently. But damn, he didn’t want to leave his pack without his skills. Still, Landon and Merced were great leaders. They didn’t need him.

Two rifles pressed into his skull on both sides. It was tough to kill a werewolf, but that would do it.

Deep breath.

In one move, he threw up his arms and deflected the rifles so that one enforcer shot straight into the other. The guy screamed, “Owwww. Asshole.” Not dead, more’s the pity.

Cole rolled back, but at least six hands were on him, pushing his face down into the dirt. The hard metal of the barrel pressed on the base of his skull. So he’d given it a shot. Now they’d do the shooting.

Dirt ground into his nose. It smelled good, loamy, like new life. God, he hoped Paris was safe and well. Someplace warm and beautiful.

God, he missed him.

A shriiiiieeeeek vibrated through the forest and echoed off the trees. He gasped. A sound from hell!

Eliazer’s voice. “What the fuck was that?”

The rifle barrel pulled back a little and Cole raised his head an inch. What was it? Whatever, he was damned glad for the interruption.

Shriiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek.

The wolves around him were frozen, staring up at the treetops. One guy had his hands over his ears. “What is it? What is it?” Weird to see a big wolf whimper.

The shooting in the nearby clearing slowed. A few blasts, but that noise had them all in confusion. The hellish scream sounded again. And again. So loud and shrill it hurt to listen.

“Shit!” The hand on Cole’s head was suddenly gone. He looked up in time to see a streak of black flying from one of the trees, and a full-sized black panther hit Eliazer in the back, throwing him to the ground.

“What the hell? Kill it! Kill it!”

One guy aimed his rifle. No way, asshole. Cole punched the wolf in the stomach and the guy fell back.

The black creature leaped onto Eliazer and poised his teeth against the big wolf’s neck. Man, look at those fangs.

Eliazer’s shriek vibrated off the trees. “Get him off me!” He looked freaked. Hell, who wouldn’t be with a panther ready to rip their throat? And so few wolves had ever seen a panther shifter.

Cole’s pulse was setting land speed records. Paris. Here. Here.

Get it together. He took a deep breath and raised his head. “There’s a message here. One move from any of you.” He raised his voice. “One move from any Eliazer wolf and your alpha dies. Kill the panther and his fangs will sink into Eliazer’s throat automatically. Got that? Whatever your alpha promised you goes away if he’s dead, right?”

Lots of murmurs. Eliazer’s pack couldn’t care less about their alpha’s passion for a dancer. They did want the land and the wealth, but maybe not bad enough to die for it. They’d been told this would be easy pickings. Now that it wasn’t, their commitment might be shaky. And with Eliazer dead, chances were good that none of them had the skill or leadership to get the rewards the alpha had dangled.

Cole stared up at one of the gunmen beside him. “Step back or the alpha dies.” The big wolf looked around for help. None came. Finally, he stepped back but still held his weapon at the ready.

Cole got up slowly and brushed himself off. He glanced around the circle. Heavily armed wolves stared at the almost unimaginable tableau in the center of the small clearing. A fallen werewolf with a full-sized black panther locked to his throat. Not only had few wolves ever seen a feline shifter, but this one was in animal form and it wasn’t the full moon. Harker Pack knew that Cole could shift at will, but not many wolves knew it was even possible. The panther was the stuff of legend. A couple of the Eliazer wolves glanced around, like they expected more felines to leap from the trees.

Cole stood up to his full height. He raised his arm and stared at the wolves until he had their full attention.

Then he shifted his arm from flesh to fur before their eyes.

“Holy shit!” One Eliazer wolf dropped his weapon and ran into the bush. A couple of others backed up.

Cole looked around and flexed the paw. “Eliazer didn’t tell you who you were dealing with, did he? He didn’t tell you who we are or what we can do.” He pointed toward the panther with his furry arm.

Dozens and dozens of wolves stared at him. Well, hell, being the center of this circle hadn’t been his plan. But somehow this fucking war had turned him into the captain of the debate team.

He released a long breath and shifted the arm back. It took too much energy to hold it and try to speak at the same time. A murmur went through the crowd.

“Okay.” Deep breath. “There’s no more reason to fight. None of you care shit about this land. Only he does.” He pointed at Eliazer. “And get this.” He paused and raised the same arm he had shifted. “We’ll kill you all to keep it. Is that clear?”

A couple of wolves mumbled.

“Is that fucking clear, or do you want to see what else we can do?”

Paris demonstrated his flair for the dramatic by growling low and long. A couple of the Eliazer wolves dropped their rifles on the ground. Good cat.

He looked around. “Is there a second in your pack?”

A couple of the Eliazer enforcers pointed to a big, handsome, blond wolf. “Him.”

“Karl is.”

Eliazer grunted out, “Not my fucking second.” But the teeth on his neck must have tightened because he shut up.

The male stepped forward. “I’m not officially second. There is none.”

Cole pointed to Eliazer. “Your alpha is a wanted criminal. If we turn him in to the authorities, these pack members have indicated they’ll follow you.”

He looked surprised but nodded once.

“Do you want to continue this fight? This is our land.”

A few grumbles came from the Eliazers who still held their weapons.

Cole looked up. “We’re winning. You know we are. There’s plenty of running land farther north for all of you. You have money. Buy it. Your alpha mostly wants to destroy me and my pack because I took his dancer.”

Wolves nodded and grumbled. They weren’t going to die for their alpha’s lust.

Cole stepped forward for effect. Maybe Paris was rubbing off on him. He swept his arm toward the panther holding down Eliazer with his fangs. “And that dancer is right there, about to rip the throat out of your alpha if he so much as blinks.”

Pandemonium. Wolves stepped forward to get a better look. Eliazer made a weird coughing sound.

Cole picked up his gun and pointed it at the gangster. “Show him, Paris.”

The big cat pulled back and stared at Eliazer. Yeah, with eyes so gold they could only belong to one gorgeous dancer.

Eliazer sputtered. “Anthony!”

“Errrrr.” The cat grabbed Eliazer’s throat again.

All the wolves—Harker, Marketo, and Eliazer—stared at the dents those glistening fangs made in the alpha’s flesh.

“So, what’ll it be?” Cole nodded at their fallen alpha. “Stop the fight and go home. Your alpha lives—but in jail. Keep fighting and he dies, along with a lot of you. Take your pick.”

The enforcer named Karl tucked his weapon under his arm and started walking toward the road. Two more wolves fell in behind him. And more.

A hand touched Cole’s shoulder. He jumped and looked back. “Hi, Dad.”

Landon smiled. “Lindsey has half the law enforcement of the state of Connecticut at Marketo’s house. We can take Eliazer to them to lock up.”

Cole nodded then looked around. The wolves were leaving. Everyone carried their weapons and their wounded. Their big backs retreated through the trees.

Landon clapped Cole’s arm. “Good job, son. No one else could have done this.”

Cole stared at him. “Even though I’m gay?”

Landon smiled, though it looked sad. He patted Cole’s arm and walked away.

Cole watched him go. He was done. Funny, it felt like some collar fell off his neck. “Take him.” He pointed to where the panther still held Eliazer against the dirt.

Two Harker wolves stepped up and pressed their weapons against Eliazer’s head.

The big wolf stumbled to his feet.

Paris the panther crouched and hissed, white fangs gleaming.

Eliazer huddled back against the wolf guarding him and stared at the cat. “I could have killed you, but I didn’t.”

Cole shook his head. “What you had planned for him was worse than death.” He felt the growl in the back of his throat.

Eliazer’s eyes widened. “I would have been good to him. Hell, nobody else wanted him.”

Cole smiled. But not friendly. “That’s where you made your big mistake, asshole. You see, I’d gladly die for him. He’s my husband.”

Shocked, Eliazer stared at Cole as the enforcer yanked him toward the cars. He kept looking like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing until the guards pulled him along and he stumbled. His big back bobbed along the path until he and his guards were swallowed by the trees. Hopefully, this was the last time Cole had to see the asshole.

Cole looked back at his cat.

The panther’s golden eyes glanced up to Cole; then his silken body moved backward so smoothly it looked like he didn’t have bones.

Damn, he hadn’t had a chance to watch the cat until now. Just like his human form, the panther was made of grace punctuated by some really lethal weapons. He looked just like Paris. Beautiful. Oh God, cock in heat-seeking mode.

Why was he here? Shit, he didn’t care. He just wanted to touch him.

The panther slithered toward a tree and was up it in less than a second. He peered back from a branch straight at Cole. Was one of those claws waggling “here puppy, puppy, puppy”? Must be his imagination.

Cole waved toward Alf. The wolf walked over, and Cole handed him his rifle and sidearm.

For a second, Alf looked confused; then he smiled. “Planning on doing some shifting, are we?”

Cole laughed, then pulled off his flak jacket and set it on the ground. He leaned over and unfastened his boots. He had to sit on the dirt to get them off, but they joined the pile.

By this time a few more wolves had started to watch. Shit, he didn’t care. This was his life now. He didn’t owe anybody anything.

The black sweatshirt came off over his head. He looked up at the branch where the panther idly licked his paw. Oh man, he had all kinds of places that tongue could go.

There was no modesty among wolves, but still, flashing his erect cock at the assembled pack was not cool. He didn’t need these pants.

One deep breath. Open mind to the essence of wolf. Fire. Change.

As he shifted, he heard gasps. Good. Be amazed.

Wolf. The brilliant eyes stared around the circle of humanlike creatures. Pack.

He looked up. Cat. Chase—

Forward. Panther smell. So good. Cat run. Fun.

Smell of cat. Trees, dirt, run, run, run.

Cat stopped, turned, hissed.

Wolf stop. Stalk. Circle cat. Cat hiss again. Funny cat.

Lunge. Paw swipe. Ouch.

Lunge again. Good. Catch cat. Grab cat. Neck. Chew. Fuck. Fuck cat.

Fire. Two fires.

Cole’s body burned as he shifted, while under him Paris took form on his knees with Cole’s teeth locked into his neck.

Cole’s searing cock stood straight up and sizzled like a stick of dynamite. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to fuck.

Paris mewled and hissed beneath him like he hadn’t shifted. All cat.

Still gripping with his teeth, Cole wrapped an arm around to Paris’s mouth, stuck two fingers inside, swabbed, and brought them back to that hot asshole. He shoved the fingers inside.

“Hssss.” Good cat, scream. He pulled out, gripped his cock, and rammed it into the only place he ever wanted to be.

Paris shrieked and the sound vibrated through Cole’s balls as he slammed them against that frantic ass. Wham. Wham. His teeth dug deeper and he tasted blood.

Fuck. Fuck.

Paris shoved back as Cole hammered forward. Faster and faster. Paris reached up for his cock and Cole slapped his hand. Mine. He grabbed that hard-as-iron dick and cranked it, balancing his body against Paris’s. A fucking machine. Nothing ever came close. Werefuckers!

Zings of electricity lit up his balls like tree ornaments. Each slap against Paris’s ass threatened to explode their contents, but shit, he didn’t want to stop. Just fuck until he died.

Paris screamed. “Ohhhh. Baby. Fuck meeeeeee.”

They’d die together.

Everything went black; then his eyesight sharpened like when he shifted. Claws grew out of his fingers and dug into that satin skin. He growled and licked the blood oozing from the wound on Paris’s neck. Fuck. Mine. Mine. Mine. “Sheeee-it!” Cum exploded out of him so hard it hurt. Oh God. Might die. Blackout. Hot. Great. Yes!

“Puppppyyyyy.”

Cole reached, cranked, and smiled as the hot jism filled his hand. Good.

Paris whimpered and moaned through the orgasm.

Cole pulled his teeth from Paris’s neck and licked the juice off his hand. So good.

Paris collapsed and hit the ground. Forced to go with him, Cole landed on all that hot, tight muscle.

Air. Need to breathe. Wow. He gasped.

Quiet.

“Uh, Puppy?” The voice sounded muffled.

“Yeah.”

“You’re squishing me.”

“Don’t care. Not moving.”

Quiet.

“Why?”

“Because you’re never leaving me again. I’m staying here ’til we die.”

“That may be soon if you don’t get off.”

“Well, shit.” Cole rolled onto his side. That was one tired cock. But happy. “You came back.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Had to keep you from dying.”

“How could you know Eliazer would try to kill me?”

“Didn’t.” The cat faced him with a grin. “But I figured you’d die without me.”

Cole swallowed hard. “You did, huh? And what gave you that idea?”

Paris sighed. “Because one minute after they closed the doors of my plane, I realized I’d die without you.” His grin got bigger. “I guess I can’t fly on that airline anymore. They were unreasonable about my threatening to kill the flight attendant if she didn’t let me off.” He shrugged. “That little stunt almost made me too late.”

Talk about hearts beating in your throat. God. “Go back to that part about dying without me.”

“Yeah. See, all my life I’ve said I was just like my mother. Sitting on that plane, I suddenly realized that she had given up her independence to be with the man she loved. He was mated. She chose him. She could have left, but she stayed. My father’s told me she was ecstatically happy about being pregnant with me.” He shrugged. “So I figure she would have been willing to die for the happiness she had.” He looked up and the golden eyes looked misty. “Just like I’m willing to die for you.”

Cole grinned. “Shit cat, are you saying I make you happy?”

One bare shoulder raised and lowered as he sighed. “It’s a bitch, but true. So here’s my plan.” He sat up cross-legged with his relaxed cock hanging down on the loamy ground. “I’m going to buy us a house. Real remote. No pack allowed. But still close enough for you to go do your alpha shit, okay?”

Cole hurled himself on Paris, grabbed his head, and kissed him. That got his eyes crossing. “I love you, cat.”

“Yeah, well, I suppose I love you too.” His lips kept turning up.

“Suppose?”

“This is a whole new deal for me. Don’t press your luck.”

Cole laughed and wrapped the cat in his arms. “And I’m leaving the pack, so we can go anywhere we want.”

Paris frowned. “You’re not going anywhere. You’d die without pack. And they need you more than you need them.”

“Nah. But I like it around here. So it’s fine to live nearby.” He tightened his hold. “Where shall we go tonight where I can fuck you for the next twelve solid hours?”

“Motel?”

“Perfect. I know one on the way back to town. Do you think they’ll let us in without luggage?”

Paris laughed. “Of course. We’ve got a marriage license.”

Chapter Fifteen

Cole adjusted the pillow on the couch and stared through the window as Landon and Crystal came up the walkway. The walkway to his home. His and Paris’s. Their first guests, not that they planned on having many.

Paris’s voice came from behind him. “We have just enough furniture for the four of us.” He laughed, and it was a happy, free sound that Cole loved so much. His cat was practically a new feline. There was just one funny little reaction from time to time that felt like maybe he was keeping something from Cole. But hell, cats were mysterious, right?

The doorbell rang. Weird he should feel so nervous. He walked over and kissed Paris softly on the lips. “Showtime.”

Paris put one hand on a stuck-out hip. “I made hors d’oeuvres, for crap’s sake.”

Cole walked through the big room with the sparse furniture to the entry and opened the front door. His parents looked—uncertain. That made three of them. “Hi. Come on in.”

Landon and Crystal walked past him and looked up at the two-story ceiling with its ultramodern light fixture and the open-tread metal staircase.

Crystal made a little whistling sound. “Wow.”

Cole ducked his head. “It’s all Paris. I just smile when they bring in the furniture.” He waved a hand toward the living space. “Let’s go in and sit down.”

There wasn’t much separation between any of the rooms, so the entry was more a space in a big open area. They walked around a half wall and Cole pointed to the long, dark-gray couch with the metal legs. “It’s way more comfortable than it looks.”

Landon walked over and sat tentatively. “Hey, this is great.”

Crystal sat beside him and nodded in agreement.

Paris came through the dining area carrying a plate of some steamy little puff things and napkins. “Hi, all. I brought food. Cole has to do drinks.” Paris passed the nibbles while Cole opened wine and served everyone.

Finally, Cole plopped in one of the two red wool easy chairs. Instead of taking the other, Paris curled up on the floor at Cole’s feet. Never try to predict the cat. If Cole had suggested that sitting position, he might have gotten a hiss.

Crystal sipped her wine. “Your house is beautiful. I’m proud of both of you.”

Yeah, proud of their house. Cole looked into his wineglass.

Quiet. Paris petted Cole’s leg.

Landon cleared his throat. “We’re proud of everything about you, and we’re sorry we ever tried to make you into something you’re not.”

Cole looked up. “You were trying to save your pack.”

Landon nodded. “I know you understand that. But I should have tried to save the pack some other way.” He looked at Crystal. “I should have listened to your mother.”

His mom put her hand on Landon’s knee and leaned forward. “And I should have fought harder. Hell, sweetheart, letting the pack pretend that there’s no such thing as a gay werewolf was inexcusable. Because that made it seem that being a gay werewolf wasn’t okay. Wasn’t something to be proud of.”

Landon covered her hand with his. “You shouldn’t have had to fight that battle alone.”

Cole looked from one to the other. “You’re right. I understood why you were doing it, but I always wished it was different.”

“You’ve made it different now, son.” Landon smiled. “I want you to stand for alpha when I retire. I’ll back you 100 percent. Of course, the pack will have to decide.”

Crystal shook her head. “But only if you want to. Just don’t stay away from us, okay? Be a part of the pack as much as you can. And bring Paris with you.”

Landon jumped in. “If he wants to come, that is.”

They were trying so hard. It felt odd to see either of them unsure, but maybe it was about time. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Paris. He says I’ll die without the pack. He wanted us to live here.”

His mother looked at the cat. “We’re grateful, Paris. We know all of this pack business is foreign to you, and we so appreciate your understanding.”

Paris looked up at Cole with a strange expression. Like those moments when he seemed to want to tell Cole a secret. Then he smiled. “I can’t see Pack Harker doing as well without Cole.” He indicated the house. “We have our solitude and Cole has his pack.”

Crystal smiled. “I’ll bet Trixie is happy to have you closer.”

Paris spread his arms. “She’s ridiculously ecstatic. She’s knitting a throw for our couch as we speak.”

Cole looked at him. “She is?”

“Yep.”

So maybe the cat would get a little more social after all.

Crystal cracked a grin. “So will you continue to dance?”

Paris leaned his head on Cole’s lap and looked up with big, fluttering eyes. “Perhaps later. For right now, my dancing is officially confined to entertaining my husband.”

Landon held up a hand. “TMI, young panther.”

They all laughed, and it felt good.

They took Landon and Crystal on a tour of the house, and then Cole walked them out to their car.

His father gave him a hug. “Full moon on the weekend.”

Cole nodded.

“Your mother and I will be away. Maybe you’d like to run with the pack? Take our place.”

Cole nodded. “Maybe.”

* * *

Paris watched Cole and his parents through the window. God, they were so damned pack. But much of what was wonderful about the man he loved came from that pack mentality, like his selflessness and commitment to doing good. He’d make a great leader. No, he was a great leader. But his guileless goodness would get him in trouble for sure. He didn’t have enough politics in his soul.

Paris stepped back from the window and went over and flopped on the couch. Nah. It took a nasty, selfish cat to handle the politics of a werewolf pack. He grinned. Maybe it was time his beloved found out.

* * *

Cole laughed and rolled Paris across the mattress on the floor. The bedroom furniture would be delivered later. That was later, as in one or two fucks later.

Paris folded his arm behind his head and smiled up at Cole. “What time are you joining the pack for the full moon run?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think I’m going.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve barely seen anybody for three weeks.”

“Except for Mom and Dad.”

“Yes, and you told them you might go to the run.”

Well, shit. “I said maybe. Besides, you’re not coming. Why should I go?”

Paris pushed Cole over on his back and hopped on his chest. Pretty fun since the cat’s cock now rested just out of licking distance. He stared down with his golden eyes. Little shadows played across them. “Don’t be petulant. It’s not like you.”

“Damn. They treated me like I was their commodity. ‘Pretend you’re not gay, Cole, so we can keep our fable going. Marry a female, Cole, so we can have our alliance. Marry somebody you don’t know, Cole.’” He grinned. “That part actually worked out pretty good. But the rest was bullshit.”

Paris petted Cole’s hair. “They apologized.” He blew in Cole’s face. “You know, when I got kidnapped by Eliazer and lay there in that gold-plated prison scared shitless, I realized I’d done it all to myself. My picture of how my life was supposed to be made me paranoid and lonely. I didn’t allow the great stuff that came to me, like you, to change me. Sitting on that plane about to fly away from you, not knowing if you’d live or die, I realized I had to let go of my ideas and accept the good right there in front of me.”

“But I did everything the pack wanted and they still didn’t accept who I am.”

“Did you ask them to? Did you ever say, ‘I’m alphanta and I’m gay. Get over it’?”

Cole nodded. “Yeah, finally, when we were ready to go to war and I’d decided to leave.”

“And what did they do?”

Cole frowned. “They didn’t have any choice. They had to follow me.”

“Okay, so now you need to know how they feel when they don’t have to follow you.”

Sigh. “I suppose.”

Paris kissed his nose. “It’s always easier to leave relationships than to work on them.”

“Ha! Look who’s talking!”

“And that, my fine furry friend, is what makes me an expert.” And he slid that last inch forward and got the cock in the right place.

* * *

Full moon. Cole walked from his car into the New Hampshire woods where the pack liked to run. He had one bad case of butterflies. Turning and leaving sounded real good. Weird. But he hadn’t seen a member of the pack besides his parents in three weeks, and them only once. He should have been rolling on the ground having withdrawals.

A hundred yards into the trees, he saw pack members lounging around and kidding each other. They looked up and saw him and went quiet.

Okay, hell, he was going.

The sassy little wolf who had made the smart remark about his husband stepped forward. “Hey, Cole. How you been?”

One of the females smiled. “Yes, we’ve really missed you.”

Another female broke from the pack and ran over to him. Whoa. Full-on hug. “Thanks so much for leading us against the Eliazers. You were awesome.” She took his hand and led him over to the group.

The sassy young wolf—yeah, his name was Ray—smiled. “Man, when you dropped trou and shifted, I about shi—uh, freaked. I mean, I know a few alphas can do that, but I’ve never seen it.”

Cole gave him a small smile. “You mean when I was shifting to go chase my husband?”

The kid’s feet got real interesting. “Sorry about that. I shoot off my mouth too much. I’m real happy for you.” He looked up. “And that panther was the coolest thing I ever saw.”

Cole laughed. “Yeah, I think he’s pretty cool too.”

The pack members started taking off clothes and folding them in the bushes. Not likely anyone would happen by, but caution was good. Clothes lying around on the ground could attract a lot of questions.

A hand touched his arm. Cole smiled at the scent. “Hi, my friend.”

“Hello, darling.” Lindsey kissed his cheek. The elegant male was already down to just his trousers, and his slim chest and graceful arms looked startling next to the much bigger wolves.

Cole grinned. “Hey, you’re running with us tonight.”

Linds struck a little pose. “I’m pack too, remember?”

“No one ever has to remind me of that. You saved us all.”

He swept a bow. “Glad to help.”

“But you usually take your exercise on the polo grounds, don’t you?”

Linds unfastened his belt. “I thought an evening with some different animals might be in order.”

“Glad you’re here.”

“And how is your little menagerie going? Your diplomatic relations between canines and felines?”

He could feel heat creep up his neck.

Lindsey laughed. “Ah, that good, huh?” He kicked off his loafers. “Where are the alphas tonight?”

“They’re traveling and are leaving this event to the younger generation.”

Linds nodded toward the area where they’d parked their cars. “I’m putting my clothes in the car. I may drop out early since I’m not used to all this exertion, darling. See you in a few.” He waggled his fingers and walked off.

Okay, maybe this would be fun. Cole took off his shoes, pulled his sweater over his head, and started on the jeans.

“Oh!” A female standing near him gasped. He looked at her, then followed her line of sight.

Beautiful. Paris stood at the base of a big tree. The bright moonlight reflected off his shiny hair and flashed back from the golden eyes.

So the cat had decided to come after all. It would be fun to see a panther running with the pack. How would this work? Maybe he’d jump through the trees?

Cole smiled and took two steps forward before Paris held up his hand. Cole stopped. What was that cat doing?

Paris stripped off the white shirt he was wearing. His skin shone just as pale. He unfastened his jeans and let them drop. For once he’d worn briefs. He was already barefoot.

Cole took a few more steps and Paris smiled at him.

When he got close enough to be heard, Cole grinned. “Think you can keep up with me, cat?”

Paris smiled. Damn, it looked beatific. “Oh yes, I can keep up. After all, I’m your mate.”

Cole went still at the word.

The beautiful guy looked up at the moon. He vibrated, like the outline of his body was shaking. And he shifted—

—into a sleek black wolf.

Cole couldn’t catch his breath. All the pack gasped too. Paris. A wolf. A double shifter. An impossible being right before their eyes.

The wolf pack was going nuts. “Is it Paris?”

“Was he the panther?”

“How is this possible?”

The beautiful wolf stalked forward until he got to Cole and gazed up with huge golden eyes.

Cole fell to his knees, threw his arms around the hard-muscled neck, and buried his face in thick, soft fur. “Oh my baby, what an extraordinary creature you are.”

He pulled back and gazed at Paris. His husband. The amazing panther/wolf who had just agreed to be his mate. By his side. Forever.

He smoothed his hand down the lean flank. “I love you, wolf.”

A long tongue caressed his hand.

“Time to run.”

One deep breath. Heat, tingle—wolf. Wolf.

Silver eyes peered into gold.

Run.

He turned. Run. Speed. Fast. Faster. Trees, grass, sky, smell of life.

Wolf beside him. Fast. Joy.

Love.

He raised his head and howled.

Look back. Pack. Pack running. Pack following. Following. Following.

And they ran and ran until all the wolves scattered into the hills and trees.

And in a dense copse of bushes where the light of the full moon barely penetrated, the silver wolf mounted the black one.

Ahooooooooooooooo.

Meet Tara Lain

Tara Lain believes in happy ever afters - and magic. Same thing. In fact, she says, she doesn't believe, she knows. Tara shares this passion in her stories that star her unique, charismatic heroes and adventurous heroines. Quarterbacks and cops, werewolves and witches, blue collar or billionaires, Tara's characters, readers say, love deeply, resolve seemingly insurmountable differences, and ultimately live their lives authentically. After many years living in southern California, Tara, her soulmate honey and her soulmate dog decided they wanted less cars and more trees, prompting a move to Ashland, Oregon where Tara's creating new stories and loving living in a small town with big culture. Likely a Gryffindor or maybe a Ravensclaw but possessed of Parseltongue, Tara loves animals of all kinds, diversity, open minds, coconut crunch ice cream from Zoeys, and her readers. She also loves to hear from you.

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Books by Tara Lain

From Tara Lain Books – Available in KU

FUZZY LOVE

Passions of a Papillon

TALES OF THE HARKER PACK

The Pack or the Panther

LONG PASS CHRONICLES

Canning the Center

Outing the Quarterback

Tackling the Tight End

GENETIC ATTRACTION SERIES

The Scientist and the Supermodel

Genetic Attraction

The Pretty Boy and the Tomboy

Genetic Celebrity

HOLIDAY NOVELLAS

Mistletowed

Be Bad, For Goodness Sake

From Dreamspinner Press --

Hearts and Flour

Home Improvement – A Love Story

The Fairy Shop

Trex or Treat

ALOYSIUS TALES:

Spell Cat

Brush with Catastrophe

Cataclysmic Shift

BALLS TO THE WALL:

Volley Balls • Fire Balls

Beach Balls • FAST Balls

High Balls • Snow Balls • Bleu Balls

Balls to the Wall – Volley Balls and Fire Balls Anthology

Balls to the Wall – Beach Balls and FAST Balls Anthology

Balls to the Wall – High Balls and Snow Balls Anthology

COWBOYS DON’T:

Cowboys Don’t Come Out

Cowboys Don’t Ride Unicorns

Cowboys Don’t Samba

DREAMSPUN BEYOND #15 – Rome and Jules

DREAMSPUN DESIRES #5 – Taylor Maid

LOVE IN LAGUNA:

Knight of Ocean Avenue

Knave of Broken Hearts

Prince of the Playhouse

Lord of a Thousand Steps

Fool of Main Beach

LOVE YOU SO:

Love You So Hard

Love You So Madly

Love You So Special

Love You So Sweetly

A Love You So Anthology – Love You So Hard and Love You So Madly

MIDDLEMARK MYSTERIES:

The Case of the Sexy Shakespearean

The Case of the Voracious Vintner

MOVIE MAGIC ROMANCES:

Return of the Chauffeur’s Son

Love and Linguistics

PENNYMAKER TALES:

Sinders and Ash • Driven Snow

Beauty, Inc. • Never

Sinders and Ash and Beauty, Inc. Anthology

SUPERORDINARY SOCIETY:

Hidden Powers

TALES OF THE HARKER PACK:

The Pack or the Panther & Wolf in Gucci Loafers Anthology

From Pride Publishing –

DANGEROUS DANCERS:

Golden Dancer

Death Dancer

Keep Reading for an Excerpt from

WOLF IN GUCCI LOAFERS

Book Two in Tales of the Harker Pack

Coming Soon to Amazon and in KU

Chapter One

Lindsey stalked his attacker, his nostrils flaring at the smell of fear. Thrust to the arm with the epée, high outside parry by his attacker, riposte. He leaped back, parry, and thrust. Lunge and thrust, feint, lunge again, parry, thrust. On the run! Attack, attack!

“Lindsey! Lindsey! Okay, stop, I give. You win. The student has bested the teacher.” From his position flat against the wall, Rolf laughed and held up his hands.

Lindsey took a deep breath and shook his head to clear the buzz that pulsed through him whenever he faced violence—or sex. Great heavens, this was not the way to keep one’s fencing teacher happy. “God, darling, I’m so sorry.” He pulled off his mask. “I do get carried away, don’t I?”

Big, blond, athletic Rolf pushed himself away from the wall, dropped his epée in the rack, grabbed a bottled water from the case, and flopped on one of the Nelson benches that lined the side of the home gym. He twisted the cap and drank, wiping sweat from his forehead with his other hand. “I swear you crack me up. I don’t know a more mild-mannered human than you. You’re a world-class fencer, I’ll give you that, but where does that vicious streak come in? Sometimes I’m not sure I’m safe.” He laughed again, but it sounded a little strained.

Lindsey fanned himself with his lavender neck scarf. Rolf might sweat, but Lindsey only glowed. “It must be all my suppressed hostility at lack of gay civil rights, darling.” He didn’t mention predatory instincts that went with his genes.

Rolf leaned against the wall. “I’m sure that’s a serious problem for the son of the fourth wealthiest family on the eastern seaboard. Has someone refused your polo ponies access to the community feed trough?” He smirked.

Lindsey narrowed his eyes, and Rolf had the good sense to pale. Lindsey cocked his head. “You wouldn’t know.”

Rolf sat up straight. “Sorry. My mouth ran away with me. I don’t know, and I apologize. I’m sure being gay is tough no matter what your circumstances.”

Lindsey took a breath and fluttered the scarf. Off the hook this time. “Ta, darling. Think nothing of it.”

“Besides, you’ve got nothing on our grandma vigilante. Have you heard about her?” He sipped his water.

Lindsey glanced at his manicured nails. “Something, I think.”

“It’s all over the news. Some woman walks into the police station and says they’ll find this asshole rapist in this alley and some grandma saved her. The cops go where she says, and here’s this guy they’ve been trying to nail for months, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. The woman who I guess he planned to rape says the person who caught this guy was an old lady. Go figure.”

Lindsey fluttered the scarf. “What is the world coming to when a self-respecting villain can’t ply his trade without interference from senior citizens?”

Rolf stared at him for a second, realized he must be joking, and started to laugh, then sobered. “Seriously, between grandma the rapist catcher and the kidnapping, this town feels pretty comic-book weird lately.”

“Lindsey.” His mother’s voice came from behind him.

He turned. “Hello, Mother. You arrived just in time to save Rolf’s life.” He crossed to the door of the huge indoor gym and kissed her pretty, pink cheek.

“Are you torturing Rolf again?”

Rolf stood and tossed the empty water bottle. “Yes, ma’am, he is. But I’m going to tuck my tail between my legs and leave.”

Interesting analogy.

His mother peered around Lindsey at the fencing teacher. “Don’t let me run you off, Rolf. I just need Lindsey to start dressing. He has a hot date.”

Lindsey rolled his eyes. “We’ll see how hot it is, but I do have a date.” He glanced at the Patek Philippe on his wrist. “Really, Mother, even I don’t need three hours to dress for an engagement.”

She looked him up and down. “Since when?”

Rolf laughed. “I’ll see myself out. Have a great date, Lindsey.”

“Thank you, darling. Sorry about the assault.”

Rolf kept laughing and walked out the gym door, which had a pathway that led to the circular drive and the parking lot. The separate entrance, one of three, kept sweaty people out of his mother’s entry hall. It also gave Lindsey an exit on those occasions when he preferred to keep his activities private—aka often.

He racked the epée and came back to his mother. “Okay, love; tell me all about this perfect match you’ve set up for me.” They walked down the hall with its long, Turkish runners.

“You know the Westerbergs, darling. Bruce has come home with his Harvard MBA to take his rightful place in the family business.”

“So how old does that make him?”

“Twenty-three, I think. Just a little younger than you. He graduated at the normal time, not with your superhuman impatience.”

He’d just wanted out of school. One more full moon might have killed him. They got to his suite of rooms, and she stopped. “I so want to see you settled and happy.”

“I know.”

“I know Ga-Ga and Pop-Pop would love it if you were married before they die.”

He crossed his arms. “Okay, reduce the drama, dear. Pop-Pop will be shagging corporate takeovers when I’m old and gray, and Ga-Ga will still head the best-dressed list.”

“Life is uncertain. Look at your father.”

He gazed at her steadily. “Which father do you mean exactly?”

“Lindsey!” She stared at her very chic shoes. “You know full well I mean your father father. The person whose name you bear.”

He kissed her forehead. “Very well. I guess uncertainty is appropriate in either case.”

She crossed her arms tightly. “And with all these horrible kidnappings, I like to know you’re in safe places with nice people.”

“Actually, one of the victims was at home, so I’m not sure the locations are that important.”

Her eyes got huge. “Dear God, who would do such a thing? And the finest families.”

Who indeed, but he didn’t want to scare her. “Point taken. I’ll stay very safe, and I’ll give Bruce Westerberg every chance to sweep me off my feet and solidify my uncertain future.”

That prompted a smile. “You rascal.”

“Always. Now let me get to my bubble bath.”

He watched her walk away in her linen skirt, voile sweater, and second-best pearls. Hard to believe that genteel woman ever threw caution to the winds and drowned herself in one wild night of passion. The night that had produced him. No one knew he was a bastard except him and his mother. He’d been forced to ask her about his father because he was desperate, though he’d never told her why. Finally she’d confessed and saved his sanity. Maybe his life.

He sighed, went into his sitting room, and closed the door behind him. The soft greens and mauve accents always soothed him. He padded across the velvety Chinese rug with its huge abstract flower of pink and green against a background of dove gray.

Inside the enormous closet, he dumped his fencing costume.

Whoops. A couple of curls of his gray wig stuck out from the clothing storage bag at the back of his closet. Damn, he needed to be more careful. The maids weren’t looking for clues, but they weren’t blind either. Now that Granny was famous, he needed to increase his security. He unzipped the bag, pushed in the wig, pulled the old suits to the front to cover the other clothing, and zipped it back up. Better.

Naked, he walked through the side door that led to his bathroom, where the jetted tub dominated the room. Yes, it was so gauche, but it felt so good, especially when his cock needed some serious attention. Like when he didn’t have a boyfriend. As usual.

He started the water and dropped in two bath bombs that smelled like jasmine. With a quick turn, he stared in the mirror. His perpetually slender body reflected back at him. No matter how strong he got, it never seemed to show. Oh yes, his muscles popped out here and there. A lovely twelve-pack, if he did say so himself. But so odd that he wasn’t bulkier. Oh well, he worked with what he had.

With a twist of the leather tie, he unbound his hair and fluffed it out like a golden curtain that reached almost to his shoulders. Damned good thing he’d showed up blond. His so-called father had been blond, which added to everyone’s belief that Lindsey was really the scion of the Vanessen clan.

He’d believed it too, until that terrible, amazing day when everything changed. Adolescents coped with lots of crap. Brain expansion, hormone overload, growth spurts. But waking up covered in fur wasn’t a subject in his prep school health class.

Sighing, he dropped his hairbrush in the drawer.

He would have run screaming to his mother—if he’d been able to scream. By the time he changed back, some piece of his brain had figured out that this new quirk in his development would not go over well at the country club. So he had hidden it. Still did.

Moving over to the tub, he settled his long body in the hot water. Oh yes.

God, he hated lying to his mother. About so many things. She desperately wanted him to settle down and be happy, but it wasn’t going to happen with Bruce Westerberg or anyone else.

He laid his head back and draped a forearm across his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t picture the scene. Him gazing into the eyes of a man he loved and saying, “Honey, I’m a werewolf.”

The phone rang. Nobody had this number except friends. He glanced and smiled. Speaking of werewolves. “Hello, darling.”

Cole Harker’s soft, slightly hesitant voice barely went with the huge, superwolf that he was. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

“I’m reclining in a bubble bath.”

“How decadent. Are you coming to the Way Station when you get out of hot water?”

“I’m never out of hot water, darling. No, actually I have a date.”

“That sounds promising. Anyone I know?”

“A blind date with the son of family friends brokered by my mother.”

“A human?” A slight edge in his voice.

Lindsey sighed. “Yes, of course, darling. What werewolf would date me?”

“Hey, don’t give up hope. I got married.”

“There’s only one Paris.”

Cole laughed. “Is that a nice way of saying there’s only one weirdo gay half-panther exotic dancer around for a werewolf to marry?”

“Of course not. I mean there’s only one incredibly sexy, totally supportive shifter available who happens to be gay.” He chuckled. “And all that other stuff too.”

“Go easy on the human, buddy. Don’t have any dates on the full moon.” He laughed, but it was no joke.

“I’m careful, Cole.”

“I know you are. Hell, you spend more time around humans than any of us. You’re a credit to the pack in every way.”

Lindsey popped some bubbles. “Yes, but no one wants their son to marry me.”

“God, I’m sorry Lindsey. They’re changing. At least they don’t believe there’s no such thing as a gay werewolf anymore.”

“They make an exception for you and Paris. They just think I’m human, so I don’t count.” He stared down at his too-slim-for-a-werewolf body.

“They love you.”

He blew out his breath. “Like their maiden aunt. But it doesn’t get my cock sucked, so I need to get out of this water and get dressed.”

“Let me know how it goes.”

That meant Reassure me that you didn’t go biting the humans, that you didn’t violate the pack law that says no human can know about the existence of the wolves. “Sure.”

“Hey, it’s going to be fun, dammit.”

Lindsey laughed. “Right. Talk soon, darling.” He clicked off and returned the phone to the side table.

He stood, stepped out of the tub, and grabbed a towel from the heated rack.

He loved Cole like his own brother, but he didn’t tell him everything.

Thanks to their recent war against Eliazer and his thugs, Cole had discovered Lindsey had a few more dangerous talents than he’d suspected. Mostly, that he was good with a gun. But one important bit of data remained missing from Cole’s bio on Lindsey. Despite the fact that he was a pretty crappy werewolf, thanks to his human blood, Lindsey had this violent streak. It only came out when he was threatened or very excited sexually. If a guy really turned him on, it was bye-bye Mr. Nice Guy.

He shivered and wrapped the towel tighter. He could kill somebody. Plus, if the pack found out he threatened their anonymity with his wolfy hard-ons, who knew what they’d do to him?

He opened the drawer and ran the brush through his hair. Pretty enough.

This Westerberg would be just one more tepid human. Or at least, he better be.