by Jessica Sims
“So,” a voice drawls next to me and in the next moment, Gracie thumps down onto the bench at my side. She leans toward me and tugs on my scarf. “When are you two gonna be official?”
I slap her hand away. “When we feel like it.”
“You know if it was up to my brother, you two’d have been official the moment he fertilized your eggs.” The look on Gracie’s face is sly and she crosses her bare brown legs under her short skirt, swinging a bare foot. “You do realize he’s been nuts about you for forever, right?”
I slide a hand over my big belly absently. My babies are active today, bouncing and kicking. “The heat does that to a person—“
“No, I mean for forever,” Gracie says, leaning in. “He’s had a thing for you since high school.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “But you were off limits because of pack shit. Didn’t mean I didn’t catch him staring at you every chance he got. Maynard used to give him such shit about it.”
I stare at her in surprise. “High school?”
She nods. “You used to walk past the football team on your way to study hall, right?” She clicks her tongue and thumbs a gesture at Connor, who’s busy loading up a second paper plate for me. “He was a senior when you were a freshman. The pack tells me that he used to hang out and watch you even after he graduated, until Levi stomped it out of him.”
Oh. I smooth my hands over my belly again, not sure what to make of that tidbit. Connor’s loved me for…that long? For some reason it makes me feel warm inside. Good. Like this thing with us was meant to happen, messy parts and all. “Huh.”
“Here’s the thing you need to remember with my brother,” Gracie says in that lazy, drawling voice of hers. “He’s alpha which means it’s hard for him to give up control. It was a real bitch to get it, and now that he’s got it in his claws, it’s gonna be hard for him to give up any of it. The fact that he’s letting you call the shots instead of going all caveman on your ass and hauling you away by your hair? That should tell you how hard he’s trying.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me again and then hops to her feet, her panties flashing under her short skirt. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make a few more croquet innuendos at my adoring fans.”
She fluffs her hair and puts a hand on her hips, sauntering away like she’s Mae West and not a girl barely old enough to be legal. She’s not wrong about adoring fans, though - the Primordials are watching her like they’ve never seen anything like her before.
Heck, they probably haven’t. Gracie’s as forward and sly as they come, and she loves attention. She sashays over to Diarmid and Lir and takes a croquet mallet from Lir’s hand, making sure to drag her fingers down the length of the wooden shaft.
Connor returns to my side and the scent of sweet pickles and deviled eggs and pickled okra and other delicious things fill the air. My mouth waters and I press a kiss to his mouth in thanks before grabbing the plate from his hands. “Your sister’s gonna be trouble,” I murmur to him between bites.
He leans in and licks a bit of pickle juice from my thumb. “What do you mean, ‘gonna’?”
The man has a point.
Chapter 22
SAVANNAH
The barbecue is delicious and I’m completely unashamed to admit that I eat three plates full of it and then pick at Connor’s food when he’s talking. He only grabs my hand and licks the sauce off my fingertips, which makes me blush and a few other people snicker. But…I don’t care. I’m happy and I’m having a wonderful time.
We eat and talk for what feels like hours, and then the football game picks up again. After a while, people start to disappear into the woods and Beau looks over at me. “You gonna be okay for a clan shift?”
I nod, taking one last sip from a bottle of water. “I’m fine.”
A group shift is a family thing. It cements a shifter pack - or in the case of cats, a clan - together. Everyone runs in the woods together and there’s something about shifting and hunting as your animal with the rest of your clan that is just the best bonding experience ever. This might be my last one before the babies are born, and I’m already itchy with the need to shift.
“Should we leave?” Connor asks quietly. “I’ll understand if you guys don’t want the wolves around during cat-time.”
Beau just wipes his hands and gets to his feet, then presses another affectionate kiss on his wife’s head. “We have more Primordials here than were-cougars. What’s a few wolves added to the mix?”
“All right,” Connor agrees, but I can tell he’s pleased. The tension’s gone out of his voice. He gets to his feet and then offers a hand out to me to help me to mine. Around us, everyone is tossing paper plates and I hear Sara telling Ramsey a teasing joke as she starts to strip out of her clothing. I put my hand in Connor’s and he pulls me against him with a quick kiss. “Be right back,” he whispers. “I need to tell Gracie she needs to change in private. Not sure I trust the Primordials and…she’s young.”
I agree. Gracie also likes to play with fire and the Primordials might not even realize that she’s just playing. “Hurry back and I’ll wait for you.”
His eyes light up and the smile he sends in my direction feels…like perfection, really.
I see the others beginning a shift, the men casually stripping off their clothing and talking about football. Off to one side, Ramsey is herding Sara away, and I notice Josh is keeping Marie separate from the others. Lily, Ellis, and Ryder have all retreated inside the house, presumably to avoid shifting with the group until they’re comfortable. That strikes me as wise and I move to the trees to strip down and shift on my own. Normally no one would care about a female shifter stripping down to shift forms, but the Primordials are, well, unpredictable at best. I know they wouldn’t harm me, but it also doesn’t make sense to torture them with what they can’t have. So I move behind a thick copse of trees and begin to take my dress off.
A strange chemical smell wafts on the air a moment before something is pressed over my nose. I gasp, but that only makes the stink go into my mouth and lungs that much faster. The sweet yet musty scent envelopes me and I struggle against the hand holding the cloth over my face.
“Shhh,” a voice whispers in my ear. “I’ve got you, my sweet mate. I’ll make you see things my way.”
Mate? I blink languidly, trying to turn the concept over in my fuzzy mind. This…this isn’t Connor. Who thinks I’m their mate?
The sweet, strange smell invades my senses. Then everything goes dark and the last thing I see as I fade out is the ugly pattern of a sweater sleeve.
CONNOR
Gracie, of course, wants to argue every point I make at her. That’s just how my little sister is. She’s ornery, but she’s also excited and a little agitated at all the male attention she’s been getting today. Because I’m the alpha, I get my way of course, but it takes a few minutes of her whining at me before Gracie caves.
When I return to the picnic, it looks like Noah’s Ark exploded all over the lawn. There are lions. There are tigers. There are bears. There’s a woolly rhino and a mammoth, some enormous pig-looking things, and a god-knows-what-the-fuck-that-is that I think is Artur. My wolves linger at the edges of the group, tails wagging.
I don’t see Savannah, but I don’t see any of the women. I cross the picnic field, lifting my head to catch her scent, and frown to myself when it’s nowhere. “Savannah?”
Buck bounds up to me, tail wagging, and then bounces away a step, looking back. I follow him and he leads me to Savannah’s discarded clothing, piled in a mess at the foot of a tree. Her scarf flutters on a branch. “So she came here to change?” I put her scarf in my pocket, smiling. I look around for her but I don’t see a slinky cat - with a big, pregnant belly - lingering in the woods, and I haven’t been gone for long. She didn’t run off to hunt without me, did she?
There’s an odd scent on the air that makes my nose twitch, and I can’t find Savannah’s light, delicate cat scent amongst all the other scents in the air. The smell of all t
he different shifters, mixed in with the food? It’s a mishmash of scents.
I instinctively want to shift and join her, but she’s very pregnant with twins and it might be wiser for me to remain human while she has her fun. So I snap my fingers at Buck, who’s watching me with an eager, panting grin. The pack’s really enjoyed the picnic today and having one of my chuckleheads eager to help instead of being an ass? It’s a nice change. “Where’s her scent?”
Buck bounds off eagerly, nose down as he searches the ground. Long moments pass. He circles back, and then looks again, and then turns back to me.
He can’t find it.
Cold fear washes over me. Buck trots around the bushes again, circling out wider, but his tail is no longer wagging with excitement at pleasing me. His body language is tense, his tail flicking. I rip off my clothes, determined to transform and pick up her scent.
It has to be here. Has to. Buck just can’t pick it up because he doesn’t know her like I do.
The moment my jeans are off, I’m transforming. The change rips through me, hard and violent since I’m rushing, but I welcome the pain. I want Savannah. Need her. I need to fill my nose with her scent like I need air to breathe.
The rest of the pack is circling close as I finish shifting, and I can hear Gracie’s questioning whine. I ignore them, my concentration on the ground and the desperate need for my mate’s scent. It’s not anywhere. Her scent literally ends where her clothes have fallen. It makes no sense, unless she went up the tree. That’s the only way she’d leave no scent trail - if her feet were no longer on the ground. That strange scent is all over the earth where she was standing, and I whiff a drip of it and nearly fall over, woozy. It’s a drug of some kind.
I growl low in my throat. Someone drugged my mate and stole her from me? Rage clouds my mind. Someone’s taken my mate. My children. The blistering anger makes my fur-hackles raise, and my growl deepens.
They’re going to pay.
Nearby, Gracie darts into the bushes and then gives a little yip of excitement, dancing back. She moves toward me and licks at my muzzle, then whines and exposes her throat. She knows I’m furious, but she wants my attention anyhow. I snap at her, and then feel like an asshole for doing it. She’s trying to comfort me. I immediately start to shift back, agonizing over the thought of Savannah in danger. Why would anyone take a pregnant were-cougar? The last ones to steal her were my pack, but they all circle me right now, concern in their wolf expressions. And Uncle Levi and Maynard wouldn’t come back. Not for this. They’d come back to challenge me, but not over a female.
When I transform back to human, I kneel on the ground, slumped. Defeated. I can’t think past the rage pulsing in my brain. “She’s stolen. Someone took her.”
Gracie yips again, even as Tony comes to my side and butts against me gently. Not to challenge, but support. Buck and Wyatt move to my other side, and I feel their cold noses touch my arm. My pack. They’re supporting me. They’re letting me know that they’re here. I feel a surge of pride and affection for them, when in the past I looked at them as a challenge to be conquered. But they’re people, too. They struggle like I do, and I need to remember that. I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to force myself to take calming breaths, but all I can think about is Savannah, unconscious and naked in some fucker’s arms, and the growl starts low in my throat again—
Gracie’s yip has a more urgent note to it. I open my eyes and glare at her. She just wiggles in the distance and trots over to the bushes again, wagging her tail as she turns to look at me.
I get it now.
She’s got the bastard’s scent. I move forward and kneel on the ground, where there’s a shoe print, barely visible in the grass. I kneel low, my wolves crowding around me.
It’s that sweater-wearing fucker. Craig. He’s taken my mate.
But he’s left a trail, and I’m going to find him and rip his throat out. Unholy glee rips through me at the thought, followed by murderous rage. Claws tip my fingers, shooting through, and I feel the change ripple through me again. Fangs threaten to erupt in my mouth, and the growl in my chest gets deeper and darker. I’ll kill that fucking bastard for touching one hair on her gorgeous head.
Tony gently butts me again and when I turn and snarl at him, he rolls onto his belly and exposes his throat, tail thumping nervously.
The sight of him cringing and showing throat is like a splash of cold water. “I can’t,” I murmur, trying to catch my breath even as it pants out of me with anger. “I can’t go after him right now. If I do, I’ll tear his throat out and enjoy every moment of it.” And I’m many things, but I can’t be a murderer. I’ve no doubt in my mind that if I saw that smug bastard in the next moment, I’d tear him to pieces.
And then I’d be exiled. But I have to be here in Savannah’s life, in our children’s lives. I can’t hold on to rage, even though it’s consuming me. Craig won’t hurt her. He won’t. I have to believe that.
But…I can’t let him get away with this.
I’m torn. For the first time in my alpha-hood, I have no idea what to do.
If I go after this fucker, I’ll kill him and lose my mate and children. But…how can I not go after him? How can I not tear his throat out for daring to harm what’s mine? Just thinking about Savannah - confused, frightened, drugged - sends the murderous rage through me again and the growl starts low in my throat. I’m dangerously close to losing my shit.
“Connor?”
I turn with a snarl. It’s Ryder - pink, perky Ryder, a cup of coffee in her hand. She’s got her big bruiser of a mate next to her, his hand clamped down protectively on her shoulder. Behind him are several naked Primordials, and it’s clear that people are changing back to human form to find out what’s going on.
“He took my mate,” I snarl. “Craig stole Savannah. Was this your fucking idea?”
“Me?” Her voice is a squeak of surprise, and a moment later, Hugh surges forward, pushing Ryder protectively behind him.
“You. All of the Russells.” My deadly growl has returned, even though Gracie’s whining and showing belly in front of me to try and get me to calm down.
“Now just hold on,” says a calm, authoritative voice, and Beau strides through the gathering crowd. He’s naked - we all are - and there’s displeasure and coolness in his expression. “Someone explain what’s going on.”
At my side, Wade speaks up. I didn’t even realize he was back in human form. Another person - Buck? - puts a hand on my shoulder. My pack’s a unit, no matter what. If I tear out of here to get justice for Savannah, they’ll support me even if it means making the entire Anderson pack outlaws. They’ve got my back…and I’m going to have theirs.
“Craig stole her?” Beau frowns, arms crossing over his chest.
“He thinks she’s his,” someone says. It’s Austin - Savannah’s brother. “Dude’s fucking unbalanced or something. We need to get her back.”
“We will.”
“And this isn’t your idea?” I throw at him. “Isn’t this what you want? Savannah with another cougar?”
Beau gives me an icy, arch look. Why isn’t he raging like I am? She’s his cousin. She’s fragile. She’s pregnant. The urge to kill rises inside me again and I have to fight back another snarl. This time, Gracie puts a hand on my shoulder, calming me. She’s changed back, too. “Why would I let someone take my cousin again?” Beau’s voice is wintry, but controlled. “I may not like the fact that you’re a wolf and one of her former kidnappers, but it’s clear you’re going to be in Savannah’s life and she’s a smart girl. If she loves you, that’s good enough for me.”
“Good,” I snarl, “Because she’s mine. She’s my mate.”
“Then we need to bring her back.” Beau turns to the side, looking at Ryder, and for the first time I see the cords of strain in his neck and arms - he’s struggling to hold back his anger as well. Good. I want the entire fucking world to rage at the thought of that…that…asshole touching my sweet mate. “Ryder. Pull u
p files on Craig. Get his address. He just left not too long ago so he can’t have gone far. He wouldn’t have planned on taking her—“
“He drugged her,” Gracie chimes in. “You think he keeps that shit around for recreational usage?”
Beau’s mouth thins. “Okay. Fair point. We’ll send a group to stake out his place, and we’ll call the private detective we keep on retainer.” He turns to the Primordials. “Who’s got the best nose of your bunch?”
A hand raises.
Hugh nods. “Uileog. Cave bear.”
Beau points at him. “Uileog. I want you to find his scent and stay on it. Austin, you take Hugh and Ryder and two other Primordials and go with him. The rest of you, I want to comb the woods just in case we’ve missed something. If anyone finds him, you’re not to harm him.”
An angry snarl escapes me at the thought. He’s mine to harm. Mine.
Beau points at me. “You included.”
Then they’d better not let me be the one that finds the bastard.
Chapter 23
SAVANNAH
There’s a seat belt buckle under my cheek, and the hard metal edge of it is what wakes me up. I blink awake slowly to realize that I’m in the back seat of a car with a blanket tucked around me. The awful chemical taste is everywhere - in my mouth, my nose - and I have an incredibly insistent urge to pee. I peer blearily up at the front seat of the car.
It’s Craig, drinking a cup of coffee and staring out the dashboard window. There’s soft music playing on the radio - Kenny G, I think. Strange. I sit up blearily, my hand going to my belly. “Where am I?”
“I kidnapped you,” Craig says in an oddly calm voice. He takes another sip of his coffee. “Thirsty?”
I nod and he hands a bottle of water back to me. I take a sip from it and hold the blanket around my body. This is…weird. He kidnapped me but I’m not tied up. “Why did you drug me?”
