by May Sage
Yep, she was rambling.
Niamh was one of the children the Pride had adopted into their fold; she’d just turned thirteen, and, from a vantage point of view, Clari saw just how bored and frustrated she was, stuck in the middle of nowhere, without meeting anyone her age. She expressed her annoyance by buying tight, revealing clothing and rolling her eyes at the first provocation, knowing full well that it made the adults want to strangle her pretty neck.
Clari felt uncomfortable in her shoes as Ace’s amber eyes focused on her, unblinking. She didn’t often see it, but right now, it was obvious that she was dealing with Aisling, the Alpha that could dismember a man twice her size with one hand tied behind her back.
“Hm,” was all she said, before calling out, “Rye!”
Oh, shit.
Clari froze. She didn’t fear Rygan Wayland, not exactly, but he was a dominant, powerful Alpha, and, unlike his mate, he wasn’t her personal friend. Why did Ace want him here?
She forced herself to breath in and out. Of course she called him. This was a pride decision; she wasn’t going to jump in without speaking with her partner first.
Ace laughed a little.
“You know, for a human, you’re very attuned to the dynamic of prides. You always act like a shifter when you see Rye.”
“A submissive shifter, you mean,” she grumbled, annoyed by her own reactions.
It wasn’t like Rye was going to do anything to her. Hell, she was pretty sure that the man would actually protect her if she ever needed him to. Jas and Ian liked to call her an honorary member of the pride. Mostly because they loved cake.
Ace shook her head.
“No, I don’t think so. Submissives are normally appeased by high levels of dominance because shifters don’t tend to attack them. Well, sane shifters, anyway. You act like a dominant who doesn’t want to be forced into submission. Me,” she said, pointing to herself, “you defer to. But the others; Jas, Ola, Ian, Coveney- you try to push when you can. It’s just Rye who makes you squirm because you know he tops you and it’s bugging you.”
Clari lifted a brow, intrigued, and flattered. She hated the idea of submission, so it was comforting to know that Ace didn’t think it was in her nature. Not that it mattered. She was human, so, whatever.
“No comment on the fact that I didn’t mention Daunte?” Ace teased her.
Although she hadn’t actually spelled it out, her friend had caught on early about her unrequited admiration for the dick who treated her like trash.
“I’ll tell you what I think, regardless. You’re going around in a circle, ready to pounce. Someday, one of you will take the first step and determine who comes out on top.”
Clari opened her mouth and closed it a few times in a row, not finding her words. Finally, all she could say was, “Whatever.”
Chapter 3
Status Quo
Rye made it downstairs right then, a phone in hand, smoothly speaking about the stock exchange or something equally boring. His cold blue eyes twinkled as he took in his mate, and a lazy smile settled on his lips. He bent to touch her extended tummy with one hand, and pressed his lips on her shoulder. Clari felt almost voyeuristic, but couldn’t avert her eyes because that was so damn cute she wanted to bottle it.
“Coffee?” she mouthed, desperate for something to do.
The Alpha male smiled at her gratefully, acquiescing, and Ace glared. Coffee was one of the many life necessities she’d had to forgo for the good of her unborn baby.
“Decaf vanilla latte,” Ace growled, visibly resenting each word.
Clari walked out of the entryway and into the open-plan living room, where most of the pride members normally gathered in their down time. Right now, there was only Ian on the sofa, which meant Coveney was probably patrolling, and, as the rest of house seemed quiet, someone had taken the kids out - Ola, or Jas.
“Hey, Ian. Coffee?”
“Please.”
Their kitchen had the very latest tech, producing the very best drinks in town. Which, come to think of it, may be another reason why she was here so damn often.
Rubbing her hands together like the average cartoon villain, she got the coffeemaker started and prepared four cups.
“Hello, Beastie,” she greeted the lynx who’d strolled in the kitchen area and come to rub against her leg.
Beastie didn’t acknowledge the presence of any of the shifters except Ace, but he tolerated Niamh and Clari when he wanted food or a scratch. She got a pouch of wet food out and served His Furry Highness at her feet. The animal consented to eat without clawing her tights first, this time.
Beastie and their coffeemaker were just a couple of the many things that make Clari love hanging out at the pride house.
“You still need to explain why your coffee is so much better than when anyone else makes it,” Ian called from the living room.
And there was also that; the fact that most of them liked to make her feel welcome.
“Secret,” she lied.
Her reason wasn’t exactly glamorous. She’d worked as a barista during her four years away at college; her family had always been very generous with their wallets, but Clari hated asking for money. It had helped pay for anything extracurricular, like her impressive collection of shoes currently collecting dust in her cupboard. Lakesides wasn’t exactly the sort of place where one wore Louboutin.
In all honesty, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure why she’d come back to her home town. Or rather, she’d known why she’d come back – but it had been meant to be a quick visit. The reason why she stayed was a mystery, though. She’d left as quickly as she could, and she’d loved it in the city, but here she was. She’d told herself it was temporary at first – a break until she knew where she wanted to land for good, but that became more of a lie every day. She felt comfortable here.
And it might have something to do with the pride of young feline shifters who made it feel like a fun version of home.
“Where’s everyone?”
“Water park. The lucky buggers managed to rope Tracy, Coveney, and Christine into taking them, so Ace and Rye said they could go.”
Ian sounded grumpy, and she guessed it was because he’d been left behind; unlike their domestic counterparts, most big cats loved water, and, well, anyone living in Lakesides in the summer could appreciate the benefits of an afternoon playing in a pool.
“Well, more Bakewell tart for you, then.”
That seemed to cheer him up; he got up, looked in the box she carried, and gave her a goofy smile as he piled three pieces in one of his hands.
“You’re a beautiful creature, Clarissa,” he told her, pointing right to her face, before stuffing a tart in his mouth.
Men and their stomachs.
She was rolling her eyes when she caught something at the corner of her eye, and stiffened.
Daunte had put a shirt back on, although his hair was still wet and waving a little, like Superman’s. He stood close to the door and glared like it was going out of fashion.
Any other day, she would just have pretended to ignore him, or glared right back, but something Ace had said made her want to push him. Cats circling each other, waiting to pounce? That seemed accurate enough. And she had every intention of being the one on top.
“Coffee?”
Chapter 4
Hell of a Day
She was talking to him. Why was she talking to him? It wasn’t how their dynamic worked.
Shit, he loved her voice. “Coffee,” that’s all she’d said, and he was hard. She was looking directly at him, her emerald green eyes blazing defiantly. She knew what she’d done. She knew she’d broken the status quo.
Why? Why today? As though Daunte didn’t have enough on his mind already. Clarissa Thompson didn’t have to do anything to mess with his brain; the fact that she existed already achieved that. He thought of her every day since he’d first seen her, inhaled her scent, heard that damn voice.
And now, she asked him if he wa
nted coffee. Made by her. He grunted something that he hoped resembled a yes, while Ian attempted to hide his shit-eating grin behind a newspaper. Daunte flipped him off as soon as Clari turned her back.
“Done with your truck?”
Again. She was doing it again. The talking thing.
“Yep. All spotless.”
“One might wonder why you cleaned it again; didn’t you get it done just last week?”
Daunte shot Ian a cautioning look; he could understand why the man would tease him about his awkwardness in front of Clari - he could have a look in the mirror and see just how fucking laughable he was. If it had been another guy, he would have been just as ready to take the piss - but this was different. The problem with his truck was a serious issue that concerned the pride’s safety, and he hadn’t even had the chance to speak to Rye about it.
Ian immediately dropped it, catching on to the difference in his expression; Daunte didn’t take most things too seriously. The one and only notable exception was pride business.
There wasn’t anything too obvious about him being overzealous with his truck, but the problem was that they were cats - by nature, they wanted to know every single little detail. If the wrong person heard that, and caught his reluctance when he replied, he was screwed.
Ace and Rye walked in, and immediately the atmosphere of the room changed; everyone involuntarily straightened up a little. Their Alphas didn’t demand that sort of deference, but they naturally commanded it.
The couple had spent the afternoon with their midwife; they’d religiously attended training meetings that were supposed to somehow help when his sister was going to push the balloon she was carrying around out of her teeny, tiny body. Daunte winced every time he thought about it. Now that she was only a few days away from giving birth, he felt positively sick. He’d never do that to a woman.
“How’s everything?” he asked Ace. She opened her mouth, but he held his hands up. “That was mostly rhetorical. You’re just meant to say, you’re good.”
The damn woman took a vicious pleasure in giving him details when he didn’t stop her. He’d thrown up as much as she had during her first trimester.
“We’re great,” Rye replied, sparing him. “They say we’re good to go in about ten days now.”
He was smiling from ear to ear.
Then his intense gaze looked around, and fell on the most vulnerable thing in the room.
A tray in hand, Clarissa came out of the kitchen area, and walked right to them; he didn’t think anyone had given her a Shifter 101, yet she always did the right thing. She went to serve the Alphas first.
“Ace told me you thought of asking Niamh to work at the bakery this summer?”
Clari nodded enthusiastically.
“Yep. I could train her on weekdays when we’re quiet, and she could help on weekends. She’s a bright kid, I’m sure she’ll make herself useful. Plus, it would be a change of scenery, you know?”
“What?” Daunte growled, completely baffled.
That was the worst idea of the century. Niamh was a witch - a teenage witch, just discovering her powers, and with a mile-long attitude. They wanted a human to supervise her?
Yet, ignoring him, Rye nodded.
“It’s brilliant.”
“I’m actually ashamed I didn’t think of it myself,” Ace piped in. “Baby brain, maybe. She’s bored here, and she makes us pay for it. Plus, we could pay her some money, which means she’ll have her own playtime fund. I loved that at her age.”
“That’s the most stupid idea I ever heard of,” Daunte proclaimed, but somehow, everyone ignored him. Again.
“She might be a little too young to be on the books legally,” Clari admitted, and Ace shook her head.
“Shifter laws are a little different. We’re expected to raise our kids to take their place in the pride when they’re ready. I can write her in; it means applying for a license but it’s a simple formality.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. Daunte took a step forward, placing himself between the Alphas and Clari, arms crossed.
“That’s a no. Ace, you’ll be in the shop even less when the baby gets here. That means you’re asking a human to take care of one of us. A powerful, young, volatile, one of us.” Without turning, he could feel anger radiating from Clari, and he ignored it, concentrating on his Alphas. “What if Niamh hurts herself and gets upset?”
He didn’t need to spell it out after that. Rye and Ace exchanged a glance, knowing exactly what he referred to. Niamh fought the other kids, learning to defend herself, and she’d twisted her ankle on a one on one with Jasper a few months back. She really hadn’t meant it, and she’d stopped herself immediately, but they’d all been shocked by the strength of the wave that had followed. The humans in town had written it off as a weird natural phenomenon, an earthquake, but they knew better.
“You’re right,” Ace sighed.
“What?”
“Damn, it’s hard to remember Clari isn’t really one of us,” Rye conceded.
“What?”
Daunte had every intention to carry on ignoring her, but Clari shoved his shoulders to walk past him, planting herself on the other side of him to face the Alphas.
“What is that all about? You think I’m so irresponsible I can’t take care of a damn kid? And you’re listening to him?” she sounded furious.
It probably didn’t help that Daunte was smirking. He knew he’d won. The Alphas would put her safety before anything else.
“Of course not,” Ace dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. “But Daunte is right, there’s more to Niamh than meets the eye. And, frankly, she needs to be around someone who can knock her out if needs be. That’s why we’ll have to homeschool her until she gets it under control; or we’ll have to send her to a sup academy. It’s really not about you. Teenage sups and humans don’t mix.”
Clari appeared to be slightly mollified. Daunte was practically certain the matter would have been dropped, if Ian, who generally kept to himself, hadn’t piped in, “We could always set a bodyguard outside of the store when Niamh is working. I don’t mind doing it. And if she makes it without incident this summer, maybe she can even try a semester at the local high school.”
Daunte opened his mouth and closed it again, because there were no words to express his displeasure. Instead, he turned his gaze on Ian, and locked it threateningly, promising reprisal. Next time they had training together, the tiger shifter was going to pay for that.
Daunte faced a conundrum. Like his father, he had no inclination towards the role of Alpha, but his level of dominance meant that he didn’t like to be told what to do, and he hated when things didn’t go his way. To put it simply, he was controlling as fuck. Thankfully, it generally wasn’t a problem in this pride; Rye was a great Alpha, and their opinions practically never clashed.
Recently, they had - more over the last three seasons than over the last decade. And every single time, it was somehow related to Clarissa.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what was happening. He’d seen it with his own eyes more than once; he’d seen it just a few months back when Rye had met his sister. He liked the girl. More worryingly, his animal was interested in her. Women didn’t have to be their fated mate to hold their cat’s attention.
If she’d been one of them, he would have done something about it, but she was human, so Daunte ignored it. He ignored her. Which, by the way, wasn’t easy, given the fact that the woman making his animal attempt to claw his way out was at their pride house every day. Every. Single. Day. He could literally not catch a break.
Needing to think about something else - anything else, he turned to Rye and told him, “We need to talk, by the way.”
Of course, that got Ace’s attention; she took her mate’s forearm and looked at him expectantly, visibly ready to face a hoard of dragons, if necessary. As their Alpha female, she had every right to be included in any conversation - especially the serious ones that started with we need to
talk.
But, knowing full well that if she ever found out, she’d kick his ass for it, he did what he had to do; he lied.
“It’s not pride business. Just something about a potential investment.”
As he expected her to, Ace immediately rolled her eyes and walked to the sofas, disinterested.
He'd played his cards well. Now, he just needed to make sure she never heard that he had hidden something from her. Ever.
Chapter 5
little white lies
Daunte Cross wasn’t often ashamed, but as he explained to his Alpha what had occurred in the morning, he couldn’t help but feel that he’d been an ass. He’d been on his way to look at woods close to their territory - an extension they were considering purchasing - when he’d come across one of them, a sup, in distress.
“She came out of nowhere; I almost hit her with the Jeep. When I looked at her, she was wet, dirty, sweaty, and terrified,” he said, pacing around Rye’s office. “She said she was kidnapped, but didn’t want to go to the cops. I picked her up and got the hell out of there. As soon as she got into the Jeep, I smelled wolf on her.”
“And where is she?” Rye growled, tense.
“Safe, I think. Hopefully.”
He’d helped, he knew he had; but he hadn’t done as much as he could have. He might have brought the girl to their territory and protected her there - they had plenty of alliances and she would have been safer. She was on the run today, by herself. But he hadn’t wanted to lead problems to his pride. Simple as that. Any other time, he might have at the very least considered it, but while his sister was pregnant and vulnerable? No way, no how. Instead, he’d called Knox, the most resourceful loner he knew of, and asked him to help.
