“See that guy in the booth over there? He’s a reporter for the local paper, and he’d love to interview you about the body you found, not to mention who your friends are and what the hell you’re doing with them. You want my advice—and nobody fucking appears to—I’d get going before he notices you’re here and he gives us all a buttload of publicity nobody can afford.”
Immediately, Ryon felt stupid for bringing her out. “Sorry, Sheriff. I assumed their interest in Daria had died down enough that it wouldn’t be a problem.”
The older man looked exasperated. “It might have if mangled bodies would stop turning up. As it is, you might want to get lost. Because here the little buzzard comes.”
The buzzard being the reporter, with a nice camera in hand and a gleam in his eye.
“Shit.” Ryon held out his hand for his mate, and she took it. “Come on, baby. Anyone else leaving?”
“Me and Mac,” Kalen said. “If my mate is ready.”
Mac nodded and rose from her chair, giving her salad a glare of disgust. “I am.”
“You guys go on,” Jax told Ryon. “The rest of us will be back soon.”
Ryon pulled Daria toward the door, ignoring the reporter’s calls to wait. He wasn’t about to subject his mate to any publicity, especially when it could harm her or his team in the long run. On the way out, he saw a flash, and cursed. That’s all they needed, pictures of the Pack out there in circulation and perhaps ending up in the wrong hands. He hoped the sheriff or one of the guys confiscated them.
In less than a minute, they were on the road, heading back to the compound. Ryon threw his mate a look of apology. “I’m sorry, honey. I wanted you to get out and have fun.”
“I did,” she said, smiling at him. “It’s nobody’s fault that reporter was there, and we were going to leave soon anyway.”
“I’m sorry about the two assholes,” Kalen put in. “I had trouble with them and a friend of theirs before.”
Daria glanced back at him and Mac. “People like them live to cause trouble, and they never learn. It’s not a problem.”
They talked the rest of the way, Kalen sharing some of his experiences as a Necromancer while Daria listened in rapt fascination. When the Sorcerer offered to let her sit in on a session sometime, she declined with a laugh.
“Oh, I don’t think talking to dead people are my thing. I’d love to see some magic, though.”
“Anytime.”
At the compound, Ryon parked the SUV in the hangar and they said good night to the other couple, who walked off whispering quietly, Kalen’s arm securely around his mate. Ryon took Daria’s hand.
“Stay with me tonight?” His chest tightened as she weighed her answer. Then the band loosened when she smiled.
“I would love to.”
And so, he ended a near-perfect evening with his mate wrapped in his arms.
He couldn’t think of a damned thing that made him happier.
Daria awoke to two sharp points grazing her neck. Lips nibbling. As the fog lifted she squirmed and swatted at the minor irritation. A masculine chuckle rumbled in her ear, and the nibbling continued. More scraping. Awareness kicked in and she realized those were his canines, and little tendrils of pleasure began to spread through her body.
“Wake up, beautiful,” Ryon sang. “Rise and shine.”
“Ugh.”
“Not a morning person?”
Giving up, she rolled over and peered up at his smug face. “Used to moving when I’m good and ready.”
“Too bad. We have to eat breakfast. Then we’re going for a run.” He kissed her nose. “Unless you’re backing out?”
“Are you kidding? I’m not a coward, my mate. I don’t wimp out once I’ve made up my mind about something.”
“Good for you,” he said in approval. “Hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“I’ve got a few MREs in the kitchen . . .” He tossed her a grin as he rose from the bed. Naked.
“Ha, you’re a funny guy.” She eyed his tight ass, disappointed when he pulled on a loose pair of shorts.
“Just teasing. I can cook, as you know.”
“That you can, and you do a fine job. What am I getting?”
“Hmm. Omelets and toast?”
Her mouth watered. “That sounds great.”
Forcing herself from his cozy, king-sized bed, she put on her jeans and shirt from the night before and padded after him into the kitchen. She observed her mate appreciatively as he went about getting out the stuff for their breakfast, shirtless and more scrumptious than any food.
“You like ham and cheese?” Opening a package of meat, he sniffed. “It’s still good.”
“Sure. I like just about anything that goes in an omelet.”
“Then you’re in luck, because I make the best ones in the whole compound.”
He wasn’t joking. Gesturing for her to sit on a stool at the bar, he got out bell peppers, onions, salsa, and mushrooms to go with the ham and cheese. Next, he poured two glasses of orange juice—which he then topped off with champagne.
“Mimosas?” she asked in delight. “You’re going to spoil me rotten.”
“That’s the whole point. You deserve to be spoiled.”
As she sipped her mimosa, he chopped the veggies and dumped them into a pan with melted butter. The delicious aroma filled the small kitchen and made her stomach rumble. He stirred them, refilled her drink, and then began beating the eggs, adding a bit of milk.
“To make them fluffy,” he explained.
Yes, indeed. She could get used to having Ryon spoil her. In every way.
In two larger pans, he poured the eggs so he could make them both at the same time. Soon the sautéed veggies were added, then the cheese and ham. Slicing four thick pieces of sourdough bread, he shoved them in the toaster.
In minutes, he was ushering her into a breakfast nook seat at the table by the patio door, where he served their plates with finesse.
“My lady, your breakfast.”
“Oh my God, this smells awesome.”
“Tastes even better.”
At his pointed look, she picked up her fork and took a bite. “This is wonderful. You’re going to do all the cooking in this relationship, right?” Instantly, she realized what she’d said, as well as the significance—she was coming to accept their mating. What’s more, she was truly enjoying her mate.
So did he, and he gave her a soft smile as he sat. “You bet. As long as you’re mine, I’ll cook whatever you want. Whenever you want.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I hope you do.”
When they were finished eating, she helped him clear the table and wash the dishes. Finally done, he turned to her and wiped his hands on a towel.
“Since we’re going to shift and go play, I suggest we shower later.”
“Sounds good.” Secretly she was dreading the actual shifting process, and he must’ve seen a hint of her sudden anxiety.
“Hey, I told you it would be okay, and I meant it,” he said, taking her hands. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“I know. But what if I’m different? What if it hurts?”
“It won’t. Trust me.”
In the end, she did. As she followed him outside onto his patio, she couldn’t help that her knees shook. “What if someone sees me take off my clothes?”
“My patio is fenced, baby. The gate is open and we’ll be able to come in and out without anyone seeing us naked. And if they did, nobody would think a thing of it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Nakedness isn’t a big deal here among the Pack and the mates. As the months and years go by, it will bother you less and less to strip and shift, until you’re completely comfortable. Think of the Pack as your family.”