by Scott, Talyn
Tatum paused, sensing her heart kick, and waved a diaper in Bren’s direction. “He’s here to see the baby or me?” For any female in their Pack, Mike Carter would be a prime male to have as a Mate. Tatum would easily agree, if…
“Both, I’m sure.”
“I thought he was going to stay away.”
“No.” Bren walked to the changing table, took the diaper from her hand and finished the job, giving her a moment or two to align her thoughts. “You didn’t think he was going to stay away at all.” In his natural speed, he lifted Ardan in his arms, kissing his chubby cheeks. “After you bargained with Mike to aid in Rebecca’s release, then applauding as he went to Scotland to assist Ciaran’s overwhelmed Pack, you went on from there pretending as if Mike never existed, Tatum.”
When she opened her mouth to say something, anything, all she could do was to shake her head. Did she not expect Bren to know her deepest thoughts? Then another kick in her chest started her heart racing ahead, until it would surely explode under pressure. Mike was finally here. Did he still want another chance after he’d stayed away? No, it couldn’t be that. It had been far too long since they had even spoken. “He hasn’t phoned in months,” she finally whispered.
“I know. Mike said as much when I was in Scotland visiting Rebecca.” He placed Ardan against his broad chest, swaying him to sleep. “Before he had headed to Ciaran's, I thought you had determined Mike would eventually find placement in our lives.” Steadying their son with one hand, he adjusted the blinds to darken Ardan’s room. “Now, I hear your heart thundering, your escalated breathing, and your adrenalin spiking.” His eyes snapped to hers, burning indigo fire in the dimness of the room. “Why would you be afraid of anything or anyone when I’m standing under the same roof as you?”
A grave insult was experiencing fear while standing in the proximity of a powerful male who was also your Mate; therefore, she had truly offended him. “Bren,” she whispered, standing on her tiptoes and waiting for him to lean down for her kiss. His lips instantly warmed hers, and in his fleeting kiss, her Mate threaded his strength through her insecurities.
When she pulled away, he arched a brow. “Well?”
“While you were in Scotland,” Tatum accused, “you grew soft regarding Mike.”
His jaw noticeably tightened. “We discussed you almost daily, if that is what you're driving at, Tatum. However, if you’re looking for some conspiracy-based relationship between Mike and myself, you are mistaken.” He thrust fingers through his long hair, tugging. “Maybe this should wait another month or so, after you have adjusted to motherhood. I’ll take Ardan downstairs instead.”
Nicely putting it, Bren thought her recently whirling hormones might play a role in her thoughts concerning Mike, which was far from the truth. She had never felt this well adjusted since becoming a mother. Even so, the last thing Tatum needed was to worry for another month. “The whole situation seems like a lifetime ago.” Bren was right; she couldn’t continue avoiding Mike. “Very well, I’ll go talk to him.”
He smiled approvingly. “I’ll give you a bit to clear the tension, before I bring Ardan in the room. Unless you would prefer I join you now and have Renee bring him down later.”
Tatum smoothed her shorts, not because she wanted to appear presentable for Mike. On the contrary, him finding her attractive wouldn’t help matters. Per usual, she fidgeted when she grew nervous. “No, Dru wants to feed. He’s on his way here for Renee.” Stroking Bren’s forearm, she grew calmer with the simple contact. “He’s already out like a light. You have such a way with our son.”
“I love him.”
“I know you do.”
“And I would die without his mother.”
“Right back at you,” she whispered, tugging his hair so he would bend down for another quick kiss. “I already miss you inside me.”
“I’ll try to keep my Beast tethered next time,” he said without apology.
“Why try?” she quipped, forcing her legs to move to the door. “You are what you are, and I love every part of you without conditions.”
She left Bren with a smile on her face, though he knew her heart, could hear it thundering. Turning the next corner, she stopped at the second floor landing and stared through her favorite oval window that gave her a picture-perfect view of the gulf. If only the water could swallow her up now, she wouldn’t have to walk down those stairs. Taking in a steadying breath, she descended them, stumbling on the last step. She clenched her fists. How could she allow Mike to shake her like this? She was the queen of the North American Werewolf Pack, had grown stronger during her marriage to the best males in the world. They gave her strength where she was weak, so how could she feel weak now?
Squaring her shoulders, Tatum turned another left and walked straight into the media room. Immediately, she faced Mike’s muscular ass encased in soft-fitting jeans. His body tensed and he turned away from the side table in werewolf speed, though resettling a framed picture of Ardan with agile hands.
“He looks just like you,” he said in a deeper voice than she remembered. But his voice wasn’t what caught her attention. Mike was covered with face metal, just like Ciaran, both eyebrows, two lips rings. There had to be more than a dozen piercings in his face, and she was aghast to notice they were silver. And he was bigger, if that were even possible, than before he left for Scotland. A static power, similar to what she encountered when near Jayce, swirled around his body and they stood at least fifteen feet apart.
She smiled. "Hello, Mike."
"Hello, Tatum." Mike stared past her shoulder, his expression hopeful. “I want to bond with Ardan. Where is our son?”
Our son? Tatum’s heart gave another stutter, causing Mike to cock his head in a wolflike way, his concern over her evident. Maybe he was here only to see Ardan, not hoping to rekindle something they never really had. “Bren,” she had to stop and clear her throat, “has him.” She braved another step inside. “He’s, um, napping.” They looked into each other's eyes for a long minute. His werewolf-blue irises were dotted with silver flecks. She could tell there wasn’t a lick of human blood inside the facade of a man.
He took a tentative step closer. “You look incredible.”
Tatum hadn’t showered today. Her greasy hair was falling out of its clip, no concealer covered the newest circles under her eyes, and her T-shirt bore Ardan’s latest spit up on her right shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Shall we.” He gestured toward the white long couch Jayce insisted on for this room, where the three dog-piled while watching movies…and doing other things. She felt strange sitting there with Mike, but she found herself sinking into the luxurious leather from sheer exhaustion. Her males helped her with Ardan, but he fed so much that breastfeeding was kicking her ass more than she expected. To her surprise, Mike settled into a chair opposite of her, giving her space. Of course, she probably smelled, especially to his sensitive nose. “I’ve wanted to call you every hour of the day, every damned day.”
Had she even thought of him while he was away? If she had, it wasn’t in a good way. “I could have answered one of those calls.”
He raised a dark brow but kept his tone even. “Without me having to talk to Gage MacGelton?”
She deserved that, but was caught off guard by those silver balls embedded in his tongue. “I-I was pregnant and hormonal.”
“I gave you space,” his calm tone remained, though she could see a muscle start ticking in his jaw. “You must know that I needed the sound of your voice for assurance. Anyone can tell me you’re doing okay, but I want to hear you for myself, even if I can’t see you for myself.”
“I’ll answer your calls again,” she said hastily, tugging at her neckline, her upper lip beading with sweat. Did he ever smell like this, so… male? “In fact, I’ll call you myself next time.”
Meeting her eyes directly, he leaned his elbows on his knees and gently cupped her sweaty hands. “Tatum, you’re under the misassumption that I’m leaving.”
“You’re not visiting the baby.”
“Not visiting anyone,” he stressed, his eyes growing bluer by the second.
She had to break eye contact, searching out the window at the surf. Tatum hadn’t seen a more determined male since she’d first came back to Fort Myers when Jayce and Bren had claimed her.
When she stayed quiet, he gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “We had an agreement. You were going to give me a chance, and I was going to earn your trust.”
On the shoreline, a gull swooped down, fighting with another over a dead crab. In that moment, she felt like that crab with two birds yanking her back and forth. Would she go this way or that way? Yes, she had agreed to give him a chance, but earning her trust seemed impossible. On top of that, accepting him as her Mate in all physical ways juggled her emotions freakishly. Jayce and Bren were everything to her, and now Ardan, their family was solid as it was. Where did Mike think he would fit? In her side vision, she could see he was staring at her hard, waiting for her to turn around and stop being a coward. She needed another five minutes, or perhaps another year.
“Tatum, look at me,” he insisted, his hands still clasping hers and his thumbs moving up to her inner wrists and circling the sensitive veins found there. Tingles made their way up her arms, but not from nerves. Mike, somehow, was relaxing her, unknotting her shoulders, her neck.
“Stop,” she demanded, tugging them from his grasp while meeting his eyes again. Jayce could do that to her, Bren to a far lesser degree, but this was entirely too intimate for them to share. Tatum stood and walked over to a small wet bar and grabbed a bottle of water. It took her three times to unscrew the lid. When she finally touched the bottle to her lips, she swallowed greedily, downing it. “Spell it out, Mike.”
He was behind her now, powerful hands circling her upper arms, long fingers curling until they overlapped one another. His lips found her ear. “I’ve already earned your trust by staying away during your entire pregnancy, by staying away the first month of Ardan’s life so you weren’t unduly stressed. Instead, I hunted rogue Gryphs who were after your Alpha Mate, you, and certainly our son.”
“You hunted them?” She sat the bottle back on the wet bar but didn’t turn.
“I killed all I could get my claws on,” he breathed, pressing his chest against her back. His heart was racing but she hadn’t a clue whether it was due to their close proximity or his memory of his kills. Werewolves lived to avenge their Mates, protecting them was a driving force. “I would have brought their heads to you, presenting them at your feet. But you were brought up in the human world, and Jayce thought you would find that distasteful.”
Jayce knew her so well, but what hadn’t he been telling her? “You talk to Jayce often?”
“Daily, unless I speak with Bren.” His voice dropped an octave, the press of his arousal hitting her lower back. It didn’t shock her. Males were always horny. “Like I said, Tatum, I needed reassurances that you are okay. And now, I need to know that our son is also well. Of course, from now on,” — he cupped her shoulders and turned her so quickly that she didn’t see it coming — “I’ll know firsthand.”
Tatum attempted to back away, shivering, though she was sweating profusely. “Because you’re not leaving.”
“Because I’m not leaving,” he confirmed, his hands finding her waist with a firm grip and pulling her against his hard body. Dipping his head for a kiss, she turned hers away. So he took the opportunity to place his open mouth against her throat, sliding his moist tongue against her sweat-drenched skin. “I’m famished for you, My Mate.” Circling his tongue over the column of her throat, she felt those silver balls working her, imagining what else they could do, and tensed everywhere. Her stomach clenched in need.
Suddenly, he bent his knees to accommodate their great height difference and pressed his forehead against hers. Mike’s hot breath was drugging, and her knees had softened to jelly. “I suspect when you let your guard down, Tatum, when you truly trust me as you do Jayce and Bren, I’ll lick your pussy the way I just licked your throat. Can you imagine how eager I am to do that? It’s been so long since I tasted you, felt your walls fluttering around my starving cock. I’m dangling on a thread here, and it’s unraveling at an alarming rate.”
She pushed against his chest, breaking most of their contact, and stared up at him. His werewolf was glowing through eyes lined with thick, sooty lashes, his gaze sweeping over her before landing on her pebbling nipples. “You can’t mean that you’ve gone this long without a female.” Lack of sex for werewolves was impossible. “I won’t believe you.”
With a bitter laugh, his eyes left her breasts and stared at her head-on. “Holding you this way, this shock of intimacy is almost foreign, considering how long I’ve suffered without a female’s touch. Damn, such horrible need is unbearable on a good day. Think on this, Tatum: Werewolves want no females besides their Mates. I couldn’t grow hard for another if I so desired. Daily, my werewolf howled against my skull with a specific and profound need so intense that it shot through every cell of my body.” A low growl left his throat, his lips parting again to reveal his lowering canines. He started panting, closing his eyes briefly to gain a measure of control. “I haven’t forgotten the only night we were together. How I shackled you and licked the soft flesh between your soaked folds.”
Neither had she, her hands curling into fists at the reminder. “Don’t speak of that night.”
“You don’t want me to speak of that night for two reasons. One, you are frightened because the heart of you remembers responding to my touch. Two, you know any horrors that happened did so after you came in my mouth, again and again, quite easily.”
“Stop,” she demanded hoarsely, stumbling backward but he caught her by the elbows.
“Not to worry,” he rasped, “soon I’ll be in you so deep that you’ll never say stop again.” His thumb reached over and flicked a traitorous nipple, making her back arch on its own violation for him to take her throbbing mound in his hand. “And, by your profound arousal scent wafting to my nose and the magnetism of your body seeking mine, you want me stroking that memorable cunt of yours as much as I want to be there doing it.”
Oh, he said the ‘c’ word! “You’re crass,” she pulled away again on a shocked gasp.
“Tatum, you’ve no idea.”
Chapter 8
“Should we come back later?” Bren asked, lounging against the doorway and bouncing a very awake Ardan in his arms. “He napped all of five minutes. I don’t know how long our son can wait since he’s rooting around on my chest for something I can’t give him.”
“Someone has to be lying to me.” Tatum groaned, “Isn’t there any formula out there for werewolves?”
Bren shook his head no. “Mason said he could start on small bits of red meat, though.”
“What?” He must be joking.
“You are perfection and strength, my son. I can feel your power even now.” Mike reached out for Ardan, his smile beaming. “I have much to teach you. First off, remind your ma you aren’t human.” Ardan reached for Mike’s lip rings but Mike caught his curious fingers and kissed them. “And also, though we enjoy delicious milk, real males eat meat.”
Tatum couldn’t believe how peaceful Ardan was while in Mike’s arms. “He’s only napped fifteen minutes,” she managed another complaint, her sight catching on the cook setting up a bountiful lunch inside the South lanai. Jayce had brought in extra help — all werewolves, and had given them strict orders that Tatum was to do nothing whatsoever around the house, and they’d adhered to their Alpha’s rules. No matter how tired she was, she felt uncomfortable with the excess pampering.
“Let’s get some food down you, as well, Tatum,” Bren said, casually studying the circles beneath her eyes while tugging her through the French doors leading to the lanai. Mike walked alongside them, speaking to Ardan the whole way. He didn’t croon as Jayce did, but spoke to him as if he were already a young boy who could understand
every word spoken. Her son seemed intrigued by the difference.
Ten minutes into lunch, Ardan had gobbled a thin slice of steak and smashed a watermelon cube between his gums, with the tips of new canines poking down. “How could teeth erupt this early?” she asked, hiding her horror behind a smile.
“No matter how you smile, Ardan can still scent your adrenalin,” Mike said as he placed the baby in her lap. He was rooting again, and now she was afraid he would bite her.
“He won’t,” Bren answered her unspoken thought.
She found herself unfolding a linen napkin and covering herself for his feeding. Mike sighed and Bren rolled his eyes, muttering something about misplaced modesty in human society. Still, Mike turned his body toward Bren in a way of respect and asked about Jayce’s meeting, the two speaking as if it were an everyday thing. Leaving Tatum to wonder if it were as Mike had said earlier. Did they go back and forth, even while not living together, discussing her, discussing the Pack?
Something caught her attention. “What about the territorial Betas?”
“They work under Bane, policing soldiers for districts across the country,” Bren said surprised. “You know the hierarchy under Jayce.”
“Yes, I remember,” she replied, waving a dismissive hand. “You said there was disgruntlement brewing since the Gryphs attacked the Den. What’s going on?” Her heart thundered for Ail, Molly, and Heath. “Wait a minute. Are those flying, vampire assholes after Ail again? I swear I’ll go to Maestru himself, if I have to.”
Bren glowered. “You won’t go anywhere near him! Besides, it wouldn’t do much good since all who attacked the Den were supposedly rogue. At least, that’s what we’re supposed to think because Prince Volos said so.”
“Supposedly,” Mike continued, “we have the rogue count down to two or three. But that hasn’t stopped the questioning of Jayce’s leadership.”
Bren growled low in his throat. “Off topic, Mike.”
