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Chapter 12

Jordan winced as he shoved open the door to his underground quarters, trying not to reopen just closed wounds. The Kayrs brothers hadn’t taken it easy on him during training, drawing blood and breaking bones, which he’d already healed. He tried to convince himself they wanted him ready to battle, but in truth, they were all pissed. Maybe not at him, but he was a good outlet.

Her scent hit him as he snapped on the light. Dark spices and wild orchids, all woman. Smoothing his battered face into nonchalant lines, he pivoted away from the living area to the utilitarian kitchen and shut the door.

Katie sat on the oak table, swinging a leg. “I’m here to seduce you.”

Amusement and something warmer settled in his chest. For seduction she’d worn ripped jeans, battered tennis shoes, and a frayed T-shirt so old the logo had faded beyond recognition. Her multicolored blond hair was up in a ponytail. No makeup adorned her pretty face.

The truth slammed him so hard he took a step back. The woman was fucking perfect.

Saying a monumental thanks that cats were stubborn, he forced himself to chuckle. “I appreciate the warning.”

A clock next to the small fridge ticked away seconds.

Katie glanced past the living room to the open door of his bedroom. A soft blush wandered up over her sharp cheekbones. “I’m not kidding.”

“I know,” he said softly. “And I truly appreciate the adult way we’re discussing this.” When it came to mating, discussion had no place. He’d shielded her too much from the ways of their people if she didn’t know that. “I take it you heard Kane’s cure didn’t work?”

“Yes.” The blush receded, leaving Katie pale. “The only chance you have is mating a shifter, and although I’m only half that, I’m offering.”

He’d saved her as a cub, and the woman took loyalty seriously. “You don’t owe me.”

“I know.” Fire flashed in her tawny eyes. “I’m not proposing to sacrifice myself here. We’re both infected with the virus ... mating might cure us both.”

“Or kill us both.” Irritation swirled down his spine at the rational talking going on. “I’m almost a werewolf—I could turn you into one as well.”

Her stubborn chin lifted. “I’m willing to take the chance.”

The irritation slid to anger. “What exactly do you think happens in a mating, Kate?”

The blush returned, red and bright. “Jesus, Jordan. I know what happens.”

“No, you don’t.” Amazement filled him at her naiveté. “I don’t just give you a good fuck and bite your neck, sweetheart.”

The blush intensified, along with her scent. Intrigue and lust deepened those amazing eyes. “You think you’re that good?”

Ah. Challenging him. Smart woman. “Yes.” He shoved the beast inside down. Way down. “I’ve seen the aftermath of a mating. The female is often lucky if she still has a shoulder.” Dark and brutal, even in human form, the males became all animal during a claiming. The woman should know that.

“I’ve seen the aftermath of a mating, too.” She shoved off the table. Toward him. “I can handle it.”

No mention of love. No mention of forever or even happiness. That more than the calm discussion shot fury through his veins. “No, you can’t. Even when you were ... healthy ... it was too much of a danger. If I decided to mate you, you’d no longer be Katie, the little girl I protected. My adult friend. The werewolf hunter. None of those people would you be in that moment.”

She tilted her head to the side. “What would I be?”

Low, guttural, the snarl came from down deep. “Mine.”

Interest flared hot and bright in her eyes. Only a second of warning hinted in her bunched muscles as she leaped. Straight for him, hard and fast, knocking him down.

His head hit stone. Without thought, he clutched a hand into her hair. Flipping them over, he slammed her to the ground, his mouth on hers. Diving deep, his animal roared as the taste of spice exploded on his tongue.

She arched into him, returning his kiss, matching him.

Lava bubbled through his blood. His cock shoved against his zipper in a flash of pain. A roaring filled his ears. Tethering her head with one hand, he grabbed her ass with the other, yanking her up and trying to dispel some of the hurt. Rubbing against her, need flared into demand.

A pounding on the door jerked him to reality. Hissing, he jumped up and threw her behind him. Her shoes slapped the hard floor—the woman always did land on her feet. “What?”

“Calls are coming in for your video conference,” Kane yelled from the corridor outside. “Hurry the hell up.” Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Jordan swiped a hand across his mouth. Without turning to look behind him, he yanked open the door and followed his friend. What had just happened?

Fifteen minutes after he’d taken his hand off Katie’s ass, Jordan sat alone at a conference table, a myriad of screens before him. A blank wall stood behind him, and the shades had been drawn to hide the ocean. Kane sat off to the side, manning a telecommunications console probably more intricate than the one used by NASA command. The odd thought hit Jordan that the vampires could probably visit the moon if they wanted. Knowing vamps, they had no interest. Frankly, Jordan had enough problems on this planet.

Faces began taking shape on the different screens. Panthers, cougars, African lions, and tigers—all in human form—spread across the globe.

Gerald Shotlam, a black panther, leaned toward the screen. “I’ve been somehow elected the spokesperson today, so let’s get started. Rumor has it you’ve been challenged.”

“Yes. And you’re a good choice of spokesperson for my people.” Jordan kept his face blank as he issued the statement.

Gerald sat back and then nodded.

Good. Jordan was still Alpha, and everybody better remember that fact. “I’ve accepted and will meet David Bomant when he chooses a time and place.”

“He’s also alleging you murdered his brother, your cousin.” Not by one inflection did the panther’s voice change, but the question shone bright in his dark eyes. “As I recall, Brent disappeared without a trace when the last war started, and we all figured the Kurjans had gotten to him. Did you kill him?”

“Yes.” Jordan rested in his chair, fighting to hide the relief that some of the truth was finally out. Though this might either send the feline nation into civil war, or at the very least, have a few old friends gunning for him.

Gerald sat back, his eyes widening, while a couple of gasps could be heard. “You murdered him?”

“No.” Jordan ignored Kane’s sudden interest in the conversation. “We’d gone to war, and I challenged Brent. We decided to keep the fight quiet, not let the Kurjans know of our unrest, and whoever won ... would take over.” It was almost the truth, and there was no reason to speculate what would’ve happened had Jordan not won.

“That’s not how we work,” Gerald snarled.

“I know.” Jordan clasped his hands on the granite table, leaning forward. “Brent and I reached a decision together and did what we thought was right.” He made eye contact with the panther as he told the lie.

“Jordan”—Gerald shook his head, wisdom shining in his thousand-year-old eyes—“I know you were young, and you’d both just lost your parents, but you didn’t have the right to change our ways in such a manner. Nobody witnessed the challenge or the fight.”

“Connlan Kayrs witnessed both.” Might as well get the bad news out at once. Panic and dread commingled in Jordan’s gut.

Ella Frades, a Bengal, coughed and flipped back her strawberry-blond hair. “So Conn Kayrs, the brother of the king you ended up aligning with, is the sole witness?”