Carnal Secrets

CHAPTER TWO

SIX MONTHS LATER

I won’t aim this hairspray at her eyes. I won’t aim this hairspray at her eyes.

Shaya Critchley chanted it to herself over and over as she made the finishing touches to her client’s hair, pointedly ignoring the irritating woman at her side who was delivering snide remark after snide remark. It wasn’t that Shaya gave a shit about the peroxide blonde’s opinion. It was kind of hard to care what a person thought of her when said person’s face was so caked in makeup that she looked like a warrior going into battle. But after a long, busy day spent mostly on her feet, Shaya simply didn’t have the tolerance required to deal with Paisley right now.

Each of her fellow hairstylist’s insults had been delivered with the most patronizing tone and the falsest smile, and the message was clear: Shaya’s hair was too red, her body was too thin, and her skin was too pale. Yeah, well, at least Shaya wasn’t smeared in fake, blotchy, unevenly applied tan. The girl looked like she’d rolled in Doritos.

Having Paisley hanging over her shoulder as she worked only served to increase Shaya’s annoyance, and she had a feeling that Paisley was well aware of that. And why would she be so set on driving Shaya insane? Simple: Although Paisley had been working at the salon for four years, Shaya had more clients than her. Sensing Paisley’s distaste, Shaya’s wolf bared her teeth—she could be sassy and snippy like that. Though her wolf wasn’t a fan of confrontation or the type to begin brawls, she was quick to defend herself or those she cared about and had little tolerance for petty people like Paisley.

If Paisley knew that Shaya was a half-shifter, her attitude toward Shaya would be even worse. The girl and her family were all strong supporters of the human extremist groups that had been calling for certain laws to be put in place to monitor, control, and isolate shifters. There would be a court hearing in four months’ time to address the matter. If the human extremists were successful, all shifters would be chipped, placed on a register like child molesters, forbidden from mating with humans, and confined to their own territory. It also meant that any lone shifters would be forced to live outside human society in what had been referred to as “gated communities”—it was simply a way to contain and isolate them.

As such, Shaya had ensured that no one other than Kent—her boss, friend, and a fellow half-shifter—knew what she was. Not even the local shifters were aware of her mixed blood, as she had ensured she was never close enough for them to sense it. Why? Easy. Members of the Sequoia Pack had a nasty habit of “disappearing.” Given that their Alpha was a drug lord, it wasn’t difficult to guess who was responsible.

“How’s that for you, Mrs. H?” asked Shaya, angling a handheld mirror at the back of the middle-aged woman’s head so that the reflection would be seen in the large mirror opposite.

Mrs. Harley turned her head from side to side, touching her perfectly straight dark hair as she examined the reflection. Then she shot Shaya a beaming smile as she stood. “How you manage to make my hair look so smooth when it’s usually like straw, I have no idea, but I love you for it.”

Shaya laughed, removing the black waterproof cape from Mrs. Harley’s shoulders. “It’s not like straw.”

“Oh it is, honey. Not like your beautiful hair. What I’d give to have curls like yours.”

Paisley made a face at that comment, while Kent nodded his agreement and reached out to tug on one of the corkscrew curls. “They just make you want to play with them.”

Shaya scowled playfully as she swatted his hand away. He did that a lot—mostly because he knew it irritated her. If he wasn’t such a good friend, she might have chopped off his spiky blond hair. Years ago, she and Kent had studied hairstyling together at college, and they had clicked instantly—not sexually, though, seeing as he was gay and all.

They had never once lost contact over the following years, and he’d asked her to visit him plenty of times. When she had called six months ago and asked if he would allow her to stay with him for a while, he’d been delighted. More perceptive than Shaya was comfortable with, Kent had immediately sensed that it wasn’t simply a social visit. She had admitted that she was hiding from someone but hadn’t wanted to say more—she had promised herself that making a new start would include not dwelling on having been rejected by the Prick of the Century, otherwise known as her true mate, Nick Axton.

Being as fabulous as he was, Kent hadn’t pushed her for more information. Instead, he had helped her find a place to live and had given her a job at his hair salon. In other words, she owed him big-time. But she still often found herself yearning to go back to California. She missed all her friends, especially Taryn, Jaime, Dominic, and Caleb. She often spoke with them over the phone or Skype, but it wasn’t the same. And, though she would never admit it to Taryn because her friend would come to collect her, she wasn’t happy.

It wasn’t just because of Nick’s rejection. Despite having a job, it didn’t exactly pay well. Although the home she rented was cozy, it was also slowly falling apart. Shaya did not specialize in DIY. Of course it was her landlord’s responsibility to fix the problems, but he was extremely good at dodging that responsibility. Then there was her hypochondriac of a mother and her constant calls to deal with. Each call was the same—she would moan about all her “ailments,” complain that no one cared, send Shaya on a guilt trip for leaving, and then become insulting when Shaya refused to return. It wasn’t that the woman was pissed about not knowing Shaya’s location or even that she missed her. She didn’t even care that Nick hadn’t claimed her. The woman just didn’t like not having someone to fuss over her and cater to her every whim. How nice was that. Shaya had taken to ignoring the calls altogether.

And then, of course, there was the fact that she missed the social touch her packmates had always provided. Her wolf, too, missed that closeness. Nonetheless, Shaya had no intention of returning to California. No intention of ever again coming face-to-face with Nick, even if he was the other half of her soul.

Shaya had already lost part of her soul before she was born. That was exactly what Mika, her twin who had died in the womb, had been—an integral part of her. All her life, Shaya had felt an emptiness inside like a part of her was missing…because it was. She had always felt the sense of being “alone” much more acutely—something that had been worsened by the incident that happened when she was four.

The guilt had lingered deep inside—guilt that she had survived and hadn’t been able to save her twin, despite how little sense it made. “Vanishing twin syndrome” people called it. During her teens, that guilt had led her down a path of self-sabotage as Shaya had felt that she hadn’t deserved to be happy. With support, she had eventually given herself permission to live a full and healthy life, honoring her twin and using her as her motivation. But the pain, the emptiness, was still there.

Losing Nick before she’d even had the chance to know him was exactly like it had been with her twin. She hadn’t had the chance to know Mika, to have a life with her…and now she would never have a life with her mate either.

Her wolf was going through a similar pain. She didn’t understand why Nick hadn’t staked his claim, and she viewed his actions as a rejection. But although her wolf was angry with Nick for rejecting her, she was also angry with Shaya. Her wolf still wanted to be in close proximity to her mate, not understanding that Nick had no intention of ever claiming her and that he would make life difficult. Awkward animal.

Snapping out of her ponderings, Shaya walked to the reception desk to say good-bye to Mrs. Harley, who was at that moment taking her receipt from Paisley. When Mrs. Harley tried to give Shaya a most generous tip, she shook her head. “That’s too much.”

“Honey, I’ve been going to have my hair done regularly for a long time. Usually, my stylist patiently listens as I moan and groan about all the trouble going on in my life—things that were always difficult to talk about with family members.”

“You don’t moan,” objected Shaya. If anything, the woman was a delight.

“Not around you,” agreed Mrs. Harley. “Because for the two hours that I’m with you, I totally forget all about my problems and find myself laughing and joking with you. What’s more, you always have me walking out of here feeling good about myself. So, honey, you will take this tip.” She forced the large tip into Shaya’s hand, winked, and walked right on out the door.

“You have a way with people,” Kent told her. “They like being around you, even seem to gravitate toward you. Considering you haven’t been here very long, you’ve built yourself a nice clientele. You should be proud of yourself. I’ve never known anyone to form connections with people so easily.”

Yeah, she was quite good at forming connections with people—lasting ones, in fact. She just had a really hard time forming deep connections. Although she craved one, she was too distrustful and guarded to allow it to happen. Was that really any wonder when her first real relationship had been an absolute mind-fuck?

She’d been just sixteen when she met Mason. She had been infatuated with him, practically worshipped him. He had told her he felt the same, that they were true mates. Still plagued by a feeling of emptiness after losing her twin, she had been so desperate to feel some sort of connection that she’d bought it hook, line, and sinker. Later she had realized that she had given her virginity to an asshole who liked to target young females and convince them they were true mates.

After that, she had flitted from guy to guy, never letting anything deeper develop. Not that she’d been a slut or anything, but she hadn’t been in a serious relationship—determined to wait for her true mate…a guy she had spent the past half year trying desperately to hate. She was failing miserably with that. How could she possibly hate her mate, even if he was a prick?

Well, at least she didn’t cry herself to sleep anymore. That was an improvement. She’d even started dating again. Not that the dates had amounted to anything, as apparently she was flypaper for losers lately. The world seemed to be against her meeting a decent guy. As much as it would make sense for Shaya to want to keep things simple and stick with meaningless encounters or short affairs after Nick hurt her the way he had, she wanted more than that.

Yes, part of it was that she wanted someone who could cancel out the mating cravings, someone who could fill the space that her true mate would never fill. But another part of it was that seeing her friends so happily mated made her hunger for the same. She wanted a guy who would care for her, a guy she could trust and depend on. Was that really so bad?

Apparently so. Either that or he simply didn’t exist. Ah, maybe that was it.

Shaya almost banged into the reception desk as a ticked-off Paisley accidentally-on-purpose bumped into her as she passed. Oh, for the love of God. Shaking her head, Shaya went over to her station to clean and tidy it. It was as she was sweeping up the hairs that were scattered on the floor that Paisley returned to her side.

“I was just wondering, have you always suffered from gingervitis?”

Shaya rolled her eyes. The red hair comments were a regular thing, and she was used to them at this point, though she was tempted to point out again that her hair wasn’t ginger in any case.

“I guess it must be nice being Ron Weasley’s sister, though.”

Sigh. “Seriously, Paisley, you don’t need to keep this up. I honestly couldn’t like you any less than I already do.” Shaya walked to the trash can and emptied the clump of hair into it before returning the brush and dustpan to the cupboard.

Paisley trailed behind her. “As if being a carrottop isn’t bad enough, you’re—”

Shaya sighed again. “Can’t you see I’m trying to pretend you’re not here? When you speak, you kill the illusion.”

Paisley curled her upper lip and made a move toward Shaya, but Kent was suddenly there. “That’s enough,” he told the blonde.

“She’s only been here, like, two minutes and everyone’s fussing over her!”

Shaya shrugged. “If what you want is the same treatment, maybe you could try working. Just sayin’.”

Snarling, Paisley sharply twirled and returned to the reception desk, but the comments didn’t stop. By the end of her shift, Shaya had come close to stabbing the blonde with her own scissors. Instead, she grabbed her things, gave Kent a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and left. As her car had died recently and she couldn’t afford to fix or replace it, she made the fifteen-minute walk to her home. For a change, her closest neighbor—who was a hundred yards away yet still managed to be a pain in her ass—wasn’t holding a house party that could wake the dead.

She let herself inside her home, secured the door shut behind her, hung her jacket on the coatrack, and kicked off her shoes with a groan of relief. The fluffy, magnolia-colored carpet felt amazing under her throbbing feet. Although coming back to an empty house never gave her any pleasure, it was certainly nice to let her feet breathe.

She had only walked two steps into the living area when she realized she wasn’t alone. At the same time as it registered just who the familiar scent belonged to, a deep, rumbly voice spoke.

“Do you always leave your windows open when you go out?”

Abruptly, she turned to the corner of the room and gaped at what she saw. A contradictory mixture of shock, pain, anger, and—though she hated it—a slither of happiness hit her, almost stealing her breath. Sprawled on one of her cream leather armchairs, with his arms crossed behind his head as if he owned the space around him, was the last person in the world Shaya wanted to see. Holy fucking shit.

So beautiful. She was so damn beautiful that it almost hurt Nick to look at her. Despite not being small, she was petite and almost pixie-like with her heart-shaped face, small nose, clear skin, and clusters of adorable freckles that he wanted to trace with his tongue. His wolf was pacing—content yet also restless, and more alive around Shaya than in any other situation. Nick was feeling much the same.

He’d found her. He’d finally found her.

A fierce longing—both emotional and physical—pounded through him, making his body roar to life. He raked his gaze over her, reacquainting himself with every line and curve. “Hello, Shay.”

Shaya almost jumped as that goddamn masterful voice snapped her out of her stupor. He had the most authoritative voice she had ever heard. It didn’t demand compliance, it expected it. And it called to the submissive side of her nature. “What are you doing here?” He looked as he always did—dangerous, alluring, and deceptively relaxed. Nick Axton was never totally at ease.

Nick shrugged. “You’re my mate. You’re here. Where else would I be?”

He’d said it like it was a mathematical equation. Shaya’s irritation was overshadowed, however, by the lust creeping over her. His appraisal of her was so thorough and intense that she felt as if he’d touched her. It reminded her of the night they had first met—he had barely taken his eyes from her, had watched her like a hawk. The difference was that there was now a determination in his gaze, a promise that she didn’t understand.

Shaya inwardly groaned. Why didn’t the universe like her? She didn’t think she was bad, as people went. She recycled, and she donated to charity, and she didn’t use products that had been tested on animals. Why, why, why couldn’t fate have kept her hidden from him?

As Nick stared into those shock-filled bluish-gray eyes that were usually twinkling with an impish benevolence, he raised his brows. “You look surprised. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find you? Did you really think I wouldn’t come for you?”

At those words, a surge of anger shot through Shaya. He had no right to be here, no right to seek her out when he didn’t want her. She didn’t need to have him watching over her and meddling in her life. That wouldn’t be a life. He would never allow her to find someone else and be happy, regardless of the fact that he didn’t want her for himself. He’d proven that by trying to scare off Dominic when he’d mistakenly thought they were a couple.

She knew that even if he mated with another female—a shaft of agony speared through her at just the thought of it—he’d never let Shaya have her own life. He’d left her no choice but to leave, and now the bastard wanted to mess up the life that she’d managed to make for herself here. Unfortunately, her wolf wasn’t moved by those details. Now that the shock had worn off, her wolf’s primary instinct at that second was to go to her mate, to touch him and take him inside her; to allow him to claim her, and to claim him in return. Great.

What Shaya wanted to do was snatch the nearest heavy object and hurl it at Nick’s head. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose it. No. He’d made it clear through his past indifference that he didn’t want her. She’d give him that same indifference now. She spoke in a crisp, cool voice. “Well you’ve found me. You’ve seen me. You know that I’m fine. Now you can leave.” Before he could respond, she headed for the oak kitchen and quickly switched on the coffee machine. She sensed that he had followed her into the room, felt his power almost burning her back, but she paid him no attention as she fixed her drink.

“I didn’t come here to check on you,” he said. “I came here to take you back.”

She chuckled humorlessly. “I’m not going back to the Phoenix Pack just so you can always know where I am and be in my business, scaring guys away. If you think I’m going to live life as a spinster, you’re about as bright as Alaska in December.”

The very idea of her with someone else always made Nick see red. His wolf, who was still pacing predatorily and eager to get to his mate, growled at the idea. Nick’s voice was quiet but dangerous. “Is there a guy, Shaya? You better hope there isn’t, or he’s dead. And don’t think I don’t mean that.”

She knew he meant it, the interfering bastard. Cup in hand, she pivoted to face him. Although he hadn’t taken more than two steps into the room, his large, powerful build practically dominated her kitchen, making Shaya feel cornered. Like a prey by a predator. Involuntarily, her eyes briefly darted to the door. Nick, still staring at her with an intensity that would unnerve any female, stepped in front of it as though to block her avenue of retreat. Wow, did he actually suspect she’d run like a frightened little fawn? He should. She was seriously considering it. “Who I’m with and what I do is none of your business.”

He took one slow step toward her. “You’ll always be my business, Shay. You’re my mate, you’re mine.”

Although his voice had been gentle, there was steel in his words. That steel only served to fuel her anger. But the anger wasn’t enough to drown out the lust heating her body. Hell, lust wasn’t a strong enough word. The closest word she could think of was desperation. Yes, she was absolutely desperate to jump on him and run her fingers through his short ash-blond hair; desperate to feed the need, feed the urges, and to answer that yearning for total completeness that she knew he could give her. She was actually shaking with it.

Shaya wished she could say that the only reason she wanted him was because he was her mate, but that would be a lie. No, this male who radiated authority was walking temptation with his powerful muscular build, sensual mouth, and penetrating dusky-green eyes that demanded total attention. Power hummed around him, and he exuded dark, primal, animal energy. Moreover, he was charged with a raw, magnetic sexuality. His natural dominance was like a magnet to her submissive side, and it promised to answer every craving she had. In other words, he was her personal wet dream…which meant it was vital that she got him out of her home.

Giving herself a mental slap, she returned her focus to the conversation. “Yours?” She snorted. “I don’t think so.”

Nick arched a brow. “I might not have claimed you, but you’re still mine.” His voice was soft and controlled, but even he heard the menace in it.

The possessiveness practically emanating from him pleased and seduced her wolf, just as his natural dominance that promised total safety did. But it wasn’t enough for Shaya—her submission wasn’t something he’d earned on any level. “I never had you down as the delusional type. Huh. I guess you never can tell. You can let yourself out.”

Her dismissal pissed Nick off, but he’d known this would happen. He’d anticipated her resistance and anticipated that she would be eager to get a few things off her chest before even considering leaving with him. He could sense that, despite how calm she looked, she was absolutely livid. “This is a nice place,” he said as he took a turn around the dining area that was attached to the kitchen. The house was warm, stylish, and bright. “How’ve you been?”

The genuine interest in his voice surprised Shaya, considering the impression he’d given her was that he saw her as nothing but an object to whom he had rights. Sipping her coffee, she watched through narrowed eyes as he strolled around like he owned the place. His casual body language displayed a quiet, relaxed confidence; there was no fidgeting, no wasted movements, no twitchy motions with Nick. Every single movement was sure, fluid, and deliberate. God help her, she found all that confidence and control sexy as shit.

It galled her that she was drawn to this person whom she would happily shoot right in the head. She forced a chirpy tone. “Great, thanks. I’ll feel even better once you’re gone.” Her wolf, on the other hand, didn’t like that idea. A little voice in Shaya’s head insisted that she didn’t either, but she ignored it.

“Aren’t you going to offer me a coffee?”

“No. You’re not a guest, you’re an intruder. Plus, there’s no point, since you’re leaving right this second. Have a safe journey.”

Nick grinned. He liked her sassy attitude. “Sure. I’ll leave. Get your stuff together.”

He’d clearly been held back a few grades if he thought that would ever happen. “Whoa there, did you not hear me before, Beavis?”

“Beavis? Are you saying I’m dumb?”

“It’s not your fault.”

Seeing the pain in her eyes that her aloof tone was trying to hide, he sighed. “Baby, I know I hurt you, so I don’t blame you for being severely pissed at me—”

“I’m not pissed at you—although I’ve visualized you sliding down a barbed-wire banister a couple of times.”

He winced. “That bad, huh?”

She nodded slowly, her voice hard. “That bad. But hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ll do that.”

Nick believed her. There was that temper he’d heard all about. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Once I get you back to California, we’ll—”

“I already told you, I’m not going back to the Phoenix Pack.”

“I didn’t come here to take you to the Phoenix Pack.”

Okay, he’d totally lost her. Something in his expression made her wary. “I don’t understand. What do you want from me?”

“I want you. All of you.”

The flash of determination in his eyes made her suck in a breath. No, he couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he might. “What does that mean?”

“I’m here to claim you.” The last thing he’d expected was for her to hurl a teaspoon at his forehead. Shit, that actually hurt.

“Claim me? Now there’s a fucking joke. I’d rather French kiss a goddamn barracuda than mate with you!”

Nick cursed in surprise as Shaya lifted one of the wooden breakfast stools and launched it at him. He barely ducked in time to dodge it. When he stood tall again, it was to see another stool coming at him. He caught that one, using it as a shield against the next stool. Then she was racing out of the room.

Before she could escape from the house, Nick dashed after her. But she didn’t open the front door. She reached behind the rack of coats in the hallway, pulled out a baseball bat, turned sharply, and swung it at his head. Motherfucker. He jumped backward, barely avoiding it. “Dammit, Shay!”

Where had his sweet mate gone? Having a bad temper was one thing, but the female in front of him was a merciless psycho. Proving that, she swung the bat again—this time at his abdomen. Although he jerked away, he only managed to dull the impact of her swing. It still connected hard with his abdomen, making him instinctively bend over as the breath whooshed out of him. That was when the bat came flying at his head again.

Pissed-fucking-off, Nick caught the bat and yanked it toward him. He’d expected Shaya to try to keep hold of it, expected that his move would have tugged her to him. It didn’t. She let go of the bat and made a dash for the living room—God knew what weapon she was hiding in there. Not wanting to find out, he flung the bat aside and dove at her.

When a hard body folded around Shaya and tackled her to the carpet, she growled a string of profanities. Unsheathing her claws, she twisted her body slightly and took a swipe at Nick’s face. The prick was fast—he dodged the move and then clamped his hand around her wrist, pinning it above her head. Most likely suspecting she would try the same move with her free hand—he would be right—he shackled her other wrist. Then he locked his teeth around her shoulder in a very dominant move. Not biting, not breaking skin or marking…just cautioning her, snatching her full attention. It worked; both she and her wolf froze.

Putting his mouth to her ear, Nick spoke quietly. “I know you’re pissed at me, and I don’t blame you, but we need to talk. I’m going to sit you on the sofa, and we’ll discuss this like adults. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Choose.” When she sank her teeth into his arm, he got his answer. Of course he could throw his dominant vibes at her and suppress her, but he would never do that to his mate. Not seeing any other option to calm her down, he used his free hand to put pressure on her baroreceptor in the carotid artery at the base of her neck where it met her shoulder. Pretty soon, she was limp beneath him.

As Shaya woke to find herself slumped across the sofa, she frowned in confusion. That frown deepened when she saw that Nick had moved her armchair so that he was now directly opposite her and watching her with shrewd eyes. It took only a split second to recall what had happened—he’d sent her into the land of the fairies when she wouldn’t talk with him. She was actually kind of surprised he hadn’t simply used his dominant vibes to suppress her. Huh.

Abruptly she sat upright. And that was when she realized something else. Her wrists were secured together in front of her with black fur-lined cuffs. She gaped at him. “Oh, you sick bastard.”

He winced. “I was hoping I wouldn’t need to use them…but I can’t say I don’t like the look of them on you. Notice that I didn’t pin them behind your back. I don’t want you uncomfortable. I just want us to be able to talk without you grabbing a bat and swinging it at my head.”

“Thanks for the small mercy,” she spat with heavy sarcasm.

Wearing a forlorn, hopeless expression that plucked at Nick’s heart, she dropped her head and her shoulders sagged. Then she was sniffling. Shit. Guilt prickled his skin. He did the only thing he could do. He rose from his seat and went to her. Shocking the shit out of him, she suddenly sprang to life; she stomped hard on his foot, used her wrists tied in front of her to deliver a mean blow to his jaw, and then kicked his kneecap hard, making him stagger backward. Before Nick could reach for her, she was up and heading for the kitchen.

Nick should have been pissed—not only had she played him by acting the sad, stoic victim accepting of her fate, she had run from him. Instead, he found himself smiling at her deviousness. He could respect deviousness.

He was going to catch her. Shaya knew it. That didn’t mean she was just going to lie back and take this shit. That wasn’t who she was. Still, it was no more than five seconds later when a hard body folded itself around her from behind and she was tackled to the hardwood floor, pinned onto her stomach with her arms squashed beneath her. This was familiar. “Get off me, you son of a bitch!”

“You’re fast, I’ll give you that.” Nick grunted as she jammed her elbow into his rib cage. He placed more of his body weight down on her, but if anything, that only intensified her struggles. “There’s no point in doing this, baby. Stop.”

She snickered, forcing herself to ignore the authority in his voice. “Fuck you!” She reared her head back, smirking as it connected hard with his forehead, and he cursed again. When wooziness momentarily came over her, she realized that that might not have been wise.

“Christ, woman, will you stop!” That move had hurt like a bitch. Ignoring the trickle of blood he could feel spilling from the top of his forehead, Nick trapped her cuffed wrists above her head. “I swear if you don’t stop struggling, Shay, I’ll spank your ass.” She didn’t stop. Of course she didn’t stop. So he slid his free hand down to rest on her ass. Well, “rest on” wasn’t quite accurate. More like he’d cupped her ass. He could say with all honestly that it was the hottest ass he’d had the pleasure of touching.

“What the fuck?” Shaya wished she felt as outraged as she sounded.

“Stop trying to fight me or I will spank you. Don’t test me.” He was hoping she did. “I never make a threat that I don’t intend to follow through.” Did she stop? No. She tried to head-butt him again. Nick tsked and sharply brought his hand down on her ass, smiling when she gasped and froze. “I told you not to test me. Or maybe you wanted me to do it.” He placed his mouth to her ear and spoke in a teasing tone. “Maybe you like that. It’ll be no hardship for me to spank you again, so if you don’t like it, quit fighting me.”

As much as she hated to acknowledge it, there was no way that Shaya could get out from under him. She was just so tired, and he was so strong, the asshole. Her wolf lowered her head and tail, acknowledging his dominance. Shaya couldn’t bring herself to openly admit defeat to him, so rather than speaking she simply went lax beneath him.

“Very good.” Nick’s voice was thick with the lust he felt at watching her submit. “Now, we’re going to slowly stand up.” He should have known that she’d try to run again. He should have expected it merely because the female could clearly be counted on to do the exact opposite of what he told her. Being much faster than she was, he caught her easily enough, looping an arm around her and pulling her back against him. “Now that wasn’t very good behavior, was it?” The crazy bitch bit into his arm, kicking him wildly. Grunting, he slung her over his shoulder and landed a harsh slap on her ass as he stalked back to the living room.

Shaya’s outraged gasp turned into a lengthy growl. “Put me down, you asshole!” She clawed at the skin of his lower back.

“Just so you know, I like it rough. But I should point out something. You’ve used your claws and teeth a few times on me. If you do it again even once—whether it’s out of anger or not—my wolf is finally going to rise to that and push me to mark you right back. With the mating urges beating at me and your scent wrapped around me and your skin under my hands, I know for a fact that I won’t be able to resist biting you any longer. If you don’t want that, stop.”

The warning had been delivered in such a soft, sensual, velvety voice that a tremor rippled through Shaya. She hated knowing he’d feel her need for him.

Returning her to the sofa, Nick looked down into Shaya’s snarling face and sighed inwardly. She was beyond pissed, which was the last thing he wanted. Conscious of the blood trickling down his forehead, he snatched a tissue from the box on the coffee table and used it to stanch the flow.

Realizing she was scowling at him, Shaya lowered her eyes—a submissive wolf wouldn’t be able to hold an angry dominant’s powerful gaze for very long. However, she wasn’t an average submissive. There were things about her that many people didn’t know. But as she had no wish to tell him, she forced herself to look away. “You’ll regret this, Beavis.”

“I’ll remember to watch my back,” he said with a smile.

“Oh no. When I come at you, I’ll come at you from the front.”

Her sassy response made his smile widen. “That’s my girl.” Sitting on the armchair again, he watched as she struggled against the cuffs. Sighing, he dug out the key from his pocket and unlocked them. At her suspicious look, he shrugged. “I think at this point you’re as tired of all the running around as I am…although it was fun to chase and spank you.”

“Had you honestly expected me to be quiet and compliant like a good little girl? I might be submissive, but I’m not a pushover.”

“Oh, you’re definitely not a pushover,” he agreed. “I never, for even one minute, thought that you were.” She had the strength of will to match any dominant female, to match his.

“You can’t ignore me for months and then expect me to welcome you with open arms.”

“I didn’t ignore you—”

“You didn’t even look at me, let alone speak to me or—”

“Because I didn’t trust myself not to pick you up and carry you off.” He sighed. “You’re not dumb, Shay. You know that your being submissive is a problem. If the situation was reversed and claiming me would put me in danger, what would you have done?”

“Talked to you. I’d have talked to you and explained how I felt. If I hadn’t thought that there was a way I could be with you, I’d have given you the space to live your life, but you couldn’t even give me that.”

He arched a brow. “Are you going to tell me that you’re not feeling the same pull as I am? That your wolf isn’t hounding you? That the urge to mate isn’t close to controlling you? I can see you shaking with it, Shay. So don’t make out like staying away from you should be simple for me. It never was.” He inhaled deeply, wanting that scent he’d missed to be nestled deep in his lungs. God, she smelled like the ocean, fresh crisp air, and home. He had to fist his hands to keep from touching her. It was painful to resist.

He took a calming breath, inhaling deeply again. And that was when he smelled it—her arousal. It was the sweetest smell that seemed designed to torture both him and his wolf. He wanted to find out if her taste was just as alluring. His wolf was clawing at him, growling at his lack of action, at not claiming what was theirs.

“My name is Shaya. And yes, I do feel that same pull. Yes, the urges are a pain in the ass. And that’s exactly why you’re here—for the wrong reasons. Not because you truly want me, but because your wolf’s pushing you too hard and the urges are bugging you too much. Well that’s not good enough for me.”

“I stepped down from Alpha.”

She was so startled she couldn’t speak for a few seconds. “What?”

“My old Beta is now Alpha.”

She’d met his old Beta a few times, sensed his very dominant wolf, and she’d sensed something else too—extremely dominant or not, Jon was nowhere near as powerful as Nick. She wasn’t sure whether or not he was lying about having stepped down from Alpha, but she knew one thing: “Your wolf wouldn’t be able to take orders from someone less powerful than he is—he wouldn’t obey him. Plus, everyone in your pack would still see you as the person to go to and answer to because you’re more powerful than Jon.”

“I know. That’s why I left.”

She gawked. “What?”

He spread his arms wide before crossing them behind his head and leaning back in his seat. “I’m now a lone wolf.”

Her mouth bobbed open and closed a few times. What he’d done wasn’t by any means a small thing. Not that she believed Nick had ever or would ever actually need anyone, but to be without a pack or territory or the social contact provided by a pack would be hard as all shit for any shifter. If Shaya hadn’t been half human, she was pretty sure the lone-wolf lifestyle would have been too much for her to handle. As it was, she found it pretty difficult, but that wasn’t so much to do with her shifter side as it was to do with her issue with being alone. “But…why?”

“Because if being Alpha means I can’t have you, then I don’t want the position. You’re what I want.”

Struggling to think clearly, she got to her feet and began to pace. She honestly didn’t know what to say, what to do. Here he was, claiming to have made some major changes to his life just for her. Hell, he’d left his pack, his family, his territory, and his position behind! She would have been impressed, but it made no sense. If she had really been so important to him, he would have done this in the very beginning…which made her wonder if this was nothing more than a grand gesture. Even if he truly intended to never return to his pack, she very much doubted that it would work for him or his wolf. It would only be a matter of time before the urge to go back became too much.

He rose from the chair and went to her. “Come back to California with me. I don’t have to tell you how dangerous it is to be a lone shifter right now—the human extremists are making themselves a huge problem. So if you want to return to the Phoenix Pack, fine, I’ll go with you. I won’t lie—obeying Trey would be hard because I’m as powerful as he is, but as he’s not weaker than me, it could still work. Come with me.”

Shaya looked at the hand he held out to her and swallowed hard. She could admit to herself that the temptation to go with him was like nothing she’d ever felt. Six months ago, she’d have given anything to hear those words. But not now. It was too late; betrayal still sat like lead in the pit of her stomach. She shook her head. “You walked away from me.”

“And you ran from me.” He slowly reached out and gently straightened one of her red corkscrew curls, watching with an inner smile as it bounced back into place. It took him by surprise how soft and silky her hair was. “But it was the best thing you could have done.” At her questioning look, he elaborated. “It made me realize a few things. Namely that living without you isn’t an option.”

“Because the urges won’t ease.”

“Because you’re more important than anything else,” he corrected, taking a step toward her so that there was only a hairbreadth between them. As her scent wrapped around him, he barely resisted the temptation to bury his face into the crook of her neck. “I’ve missed your scent. It drives me crazy.” Drinking in every detail of her face, he smoothed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. “I’ve missed looking at you. Watching you.”

She told herself to step back, but it simply didn’t happen. As if the mating urges weren’t enough to deal with, she now had his scent—the guy smelled like cedar, cinnamon, danger, and a dark masculinity—swirling around her. The scent caressed her senses and made her tingle all over. Finally her legs began to work, and she backed away, shaking her head. “I want you to leave.”

His wolf growled at not only her words but the distance she’d created between them. Nick quickly closed it. “I can’t do that. Six months I’ve searched for you. Six fucking long months. I didn’t do it just to walk away from you.”

She snorted. “Why? You did it easily enough the first time.”

“Nothing about it was easy.” He ran his hand through her curls, glad when she didn’t step away. “You’re so full of life, and I’m broken and jaded, so you deserve better. But I’ve discovered that I’m not selfless enough to leave you alone.” Resting his forehead against hers, he cupped her neck and began breezing his thumb up and down the column of her throat. “I’m a bastard for what I put you through, and I’m sorry. I won’t let you down again, I promise. Just come with me.”

Her chest ached at the plea in his eyes—eyes that always looked so haunted and shadowed that it made her wonder what he’d been through that had stained them that way. His thumb traveled up to her mouth and traced the outline of her lips as if he was claiming them. Shaya had every intention of pushing him away. Any second now she would do it.

“Since the first day I saw you, I’ve wondered if your lips are as soft as they look.” A low growl rumbled up his chest when she nervously licked her bottom lip, making him want to do the same. She had the most enticing mouth—soft, sensual, and plush. He realized he wasn’t going to be able to move without tasting it. “And I’ve wondered if you taste as good as you smell.”

Oh shit. Shaya tried shoving him away, but it had zero effect. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice. By the way his body tensed as if to spring, she had expected him to jump into action, for his hands to skate all over her and his mouth to come down forcefully on hers. Instead, he simply began to sip from her lips and nip at the curve of her inactive mouth. When he sucked her bottom lip and bit it gently—a total weak spot for her—she couldn’t hold back the low, contented sigh.

Then he was sipping from her lips again…seducing her mouth, she suddenly realized. And it had worked. Although she had told herself that she would push him away, she was actually chasing his mouth with hers, wanting more, but he pulled back each time. She understood the message: she’d get what he gave her, nothing more. Instead of using his physical strength to assert his dominance, he’d literally seduced her into submission. Sneaky. Fucking. Wolf. She would have pulled back, but then his mouth landed on hers and took total control of it.

Nick groaned as her taste burst on his tongue, practically imprinting itself into him. He slid his hands into her hair and tugged, feeling her shiver against him. For so fucking long he’d wanted this, wanted her. Touching her wasn’t easing the urges as he’d expected. Instead, sensations were crawling all over and through him. Worse, he was being taunted by a crushing, primal need all tangled up with a heavy sense of possessiveness and a fierce drive to own. He was thinking of pushing her against the wall and ripping the clothes from her body when he felt her suddenly tense in his arms.

Surprised by her own strength, Shaya abruptly tore her mouth from his and used the hands that had been plastered to his chest to push him back—the effect was more of her bouncing backward. “Enough.” Hating that she had responded so enthusiastically to his touch, she skirted around him to put some space between them again, holding her hand up to warn him off. It didn’t work. He advanced on her. Not quickly, but slowly and stealthily, like a predator prowling toward skittish prey. “It’s too late.”

Hating the pain in her eyes, he wanted to punch himself. “You’re not the only one who’s been hurting, Shay. Yes, it’s my fault—I have no one to blame but myself. But I won’t ever hurt you like that again.”

A part of Shaya wanted to believe his promise, was hooked on how earnest he looked and sounded, and was totally hung up on just how much more alive she had felt in these moments with him than she had in the last six months. But she was simply too hurt and wary to take the gamble. “Just go.”

“Not without you.”

“You have no choice in the matter. I can’t go with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t trust you!”

Nick felt as though she’d punched him. The breath left his lungs in a whoosh. It didn’t matter that it was his own fault, and it wasn’t even a surprise, but it still hurt like a motherfucker.

“I don’t trust you not to hurt me. I don’t trust you not to leave me again.”

Something about the way she’d said the latter words had Nick narrowing his eyes. This wasn’t just about him. Being left was a big thing for her, and there was clearly a story behind that. He cupped her chin. “That’s not going to happen.”

She snickered, slapping his hand aside. “How do I know that? Huh? How do I know you won’t suddenly decide that not being Alpha isn’t working for you? That you need to leave me behind because it’s ‘not safe’ for me to be your Alpha female? I’m not going through that shit again. You had your chance to claim me, and you fucked it up. Now go.”

Not a thing could have made Nick move from where he was except for the tears now filling her eyes. He wanted to hold her and comfort her, but if she didn’t trust him, the last thing she would feel was comforted. So far, he hadn’t respected any of her wishes. If he had any chance of earning her trust, he needed to start now.

Forcing himself to ignore his wolf’s and his body’s demands, Nick stepped back and held his hands up in a placatory gesture. “Okay. If that’s really what you want, I’ll go. But I’m not leaving for good, Shay. I’m not abandoning you again.” He could see that his words had surprised her. “Repeat that to me.”

Scared that he would sense that a small part of her wanted him to stay, Shaya turned her back to him. “Just go.”

“Not until you repeat it. Not until I’m positive that you understand I’m not leaving you again.”

Prepared to do whatever it took to get him away from her, she mumbled, “You’re not leaving.”

Nick gave a satisfied nod. “I’ll see you soon.” When he reached the doorway, he called out, “Oh, and don’t think about running. I’ll only find you again. Feel free to call Taryn and ask her to come get you, but I won’t let her or anyone else take you. I’ll kill anyone who tries. I’ve hurt you, I get that. We can take this as slow as you want. But I will claim you, Shay. You’re mine. I’m not staying away from you anymore.”

When the front door closed behind him, Shaya let loose a string of curses. But this time, she wasn’t cursing Nick. She was cursing herself. It was pathetic how easily and strongly she had responded to his touch. Maybe it would be fair to say that it was only natural, given that he was her mate, but it still galled her. His touch had left a tingle of fire in its wake, and now her cheeks were flushed and her entire body was crying out for him.

Her gaze moved to the cordless phone on the coffee table, and she briefly considered making a call to Taryn. The thought left her mind even quicker than it came. She could easily anticipate what would happen: Taryn, Trey, and some of the enforcers would appear, and every one of them would go ballistic at Nick. He would defend himself, and being as powerful as he was, he’d do extremely well at it. In other words, people she cared about could be hurt. Although she was mad at Nick, she didn’t want him to be seriously hurt either. All she wanted was for him to stay away from her, to let her live her life.

But is that really what you want? asked a skeptical voice inside her head—one that totally supported her wolf’s urge to claim him.

Yes, it was.

Are you sure about that?

Oh, for God’s sake. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she was having a war with Nick, she was also having one with herself and her wolf. This was not good. Not. Good. At. All.