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Once she gave herself over to Emory, she had a feeling there was no going back—not for her, at least. Despite knowing about the existence of shifters, she didn’t know about or understand the eccentricities involved when they dated, had sex or lavished affection on the opposite sex. If Emory was more beast than man, her heart would be broken when he got what he wanted and moved on.

And there would be no one to blame but herself.

The kiss was a chaste meeting of their lips, the touch feather light. He moved his head from side to side—left, right then back again. Their noses brushed with the motion, the coarse whiskers on his chin slightly chafing her skin. She moaned at the sensation, squirming in his embrace.

“Open for me,” he exhaled in a throaty rasp, brought his hand to her face and ran his fingers through the hair at her nape. The instant she obeyed the order his tongue plunged past her parted lips and delved inside. Everything around them became a blur. The floor felt as if it shifted beneath her feet and she clutched at Emory’s wide shoulders to remain standing. His chest vibrated as he growled and buried his fingers into her hip, his hold changing from cautious to possessive.

This was the danger of the man before her. In his presence she didn’t care about the future, the past or the consequences of her actions. Unlike the shifters who made her wary, he created a thrill and excitement she didn’t fully comprehend. With him she felt safe—complete. Emory was like the sun, burning bright enough to chase away the shadows, until her entire focus was on him and him alone.

Emory ended the kiss abruptly, before she could blink. Stunned, she gasped for air and looked at him. His attention was no longer on her, his whiskey-colored irises now glowing amber and aimed over his shoulder at the bedroom door that opened and closed.

“Trey.” Emory pressed against her until she was trapped between his massive body and the wall. “I told you to wait for me downstairs.”

“You know I’ve never been patient,” a deep, obviously male voice responded. “Did you ask her?”

Mary was tempted to push Emory away and greet the intruder when she heard feet shuffling across the floor before coming to a stop. The soft rasp of fabric giving way informed her that the man had taken a seat in the chair across the room. Emory remained as he was, standing like a shield between her and the man he obviously viewed as some kind of threat.

She felt the subtle tensing of his muscles beneath her fingers when he answered, “I’ve been with her less than five minutes. What do you think?”

“I think that’s why I followed you. If I’d given you ten, you’d have taken things from the wall to the bed.”

Mary’s face burned as shame slammed into her, and she inhaled sharply. A complete stranger had walked into the room with her half-clothed and rubbing up against Emory like a happy-go-pet-me cat. She considered shoving Emory away until she realized he’d partially blocked her humiliation from view, and she didn’t want the man who obviously had questions for her to get a full-on visual of her embarrassment.

Oddly enough, it appeared Emory was aware of her feelings. He growled, a low, rumbling sound that was menacing enough to make her cringe. “Get out.”

“Don’t push me. Not today.” The man returned the growl with one equally as threatening. “Ask her about the fucking bag.”

“I’m not going to tell you again.” Emory lowered his arms, forcing Mary to let him go. “I won’t have you upsetting my female because of some cash and a tattered map. If you won’t leave the room on your own, I’ll drag your ass out.”

The room spun, making her dizzy. They’d found the map and her stash of money. Sweet Jesus. Did they think she was a willing member of her family? Did Emory’s brother want to know if she planned to return to one of the compounds to give up the pack’s whereabouts?

Not good. So not good.

Would the man called Trey give her a chance to explain or would he kill her? Emory had thrust her between his massive frame and the wall—shielding her body with his—as if he knew he’d have to protect her from harm. Surely that wasn’t the case. The two men wouldn’t attack each other.

Would they?

Before she could contemplate her options, Trey growled—but not in a way that was at all human or normal. A chill ventured down her spine and terror froze her in place. She couldn’t see the danger she knew Trey represented but she could feel it. Tension permeated the room, palpable in its intensity.

“You think you can threaten me, you ballsy little shit?”

“I don’t think anything,” Emory replied. “I know.”

Mary jerked when she heard the scrape of chair legs followed by a loud crash. Before she could question what caused the disturbance Emory was gone, leaving her so quickly she didn’t have time to cover her semi-nude body or make a mad dash for the bed.

She gawked in disbelief at the men who rushed each other, collided and started fighting like opponents in a cage match. Emory and the man she remembered from her apartment—Emory’s brother, apparently—shared the same coloring and build. They each had dark hair, tanned skin and stood over six feet tall. Although from what she could see through their flurry of fists and punches, Trey kept his hair shorter.

Trey grasped Emory by the shoulder and they smashed into the wall, leaving a huge dent in the once smooth and flawless plaster. Another sudden move and they did the same thing to the wall a few feet over, creating an odd set of shapes that were almost identical.

Heaven help her. They were so strong, so deadly. Her family had warned her about that, had drilled into her head how dangerous shifters could be. One slap from either of the men fighting across the room would likely kill her. No swelling skin or bruises to care for following a blow or punch. If they managed to get hold of her she’d be lucky to end up in the hospital on life support.

She moved as far away from them as possible, until her back was flush against the far wall.

“You ungrateful bastard.” Trey crouched and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Don’t you remember how this ended last time? No? Let’s reminisce. I kicked your ass and sent you packing.”

“I’ve had enough of this shit.” Emory rushed forward, tackling his brother to the ground. Trey tried to roll over but before he could Emory wrapped his large hand around his brother’s throat and snarled, “I’m not the shifter I used to be.” Then he reached back with his free hand, grabbed hold of Trey’s crotch and squeezed.

“What the fuck!” Trey howled. “Get your goddamn hand off me!”

“Not yet. Not before you hear what I have to say. There’s something you should know, something I should have told you a long time ago.” Emory kept a grip on Trey’s throat and jewels as he leaned forward, looking his brother in the eye. “I rolled over. I let you win. Do you honestly think it would have been that easy? I made sure it was a nice show, so the pack would understand why you had to make a tough decision. I didn’t intend to kill you when I entered the fight between us, I never did. No matter how much of a danger I’d become, I’d never hurt my own blood. I was using you to end my misery.”

“Bullshit,” Trey huffed.

“No bullshit. Truth.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your choice,” Emory said. “But do you really want to fight me a second time to prove you’re right? Is it worth that much to you?”

“Shit.” Trey paused. “Truce?”

Emory released Trey and nodded. “Truce.”

Mary released a sigh of relief but it was short-lived. Without warning the door to the bedroom burst open, rattled on the hinges and slammed into the wall. Before she could wrap her head around that the largest man she’d ever seen entered the room. He targeted his gaze on her and she froze. His dark hair was pulled back at his nape, bringing attention to eyes that were liquid gold. The orbs practically shimmered across the distance, stark against his tan skin. But it wasn’t his eyes that held her attention, it was the large hands he’d formed into tight fists.