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Christ, her voice was powerful. His entire body quaked upon that touch and command, tremors spanning from his neck to his toes.

In that moment, all of the anger evaporated. The rage shifted, becoming something different. Pure sexual need slammed into him, so powerful he felt like Trey managed to land a sucker punch of his own when he wasn’t looking. While all of the animals within raged for a turn, the most powerful drowned them out and made their demands first. The cat wanted to lap at her pussy and devour her cream, the wolf wanted to mark her throat as it fucked her from behind and the grizzly wanted to rip the sheets on either side of her fragile body as he pounded into her hot cunt over and over again.

He released Trey in the same motion as he rose and snagged her around the waist. She gasped and her blue eyes rose to his face, going wide in fear. He bent at the waist and wrapped an arm under her knees.

“W-what are you d-doing?” she stammered when he lifted her like a husband would, swinging her effortlessly into his arms as if to cross a threshold.

He didn’t look away, wanting her to see his shifting irises, allowing his beasts to see her just as she witnessed them. Twin pools of midnight blue were eclipsed as the pupils enlarged, dilating until only a sliver of color was present.

“What I should have done a month ago.” His voice was no longer wholly man, syllables rumbly as his vocal cords shifted and rippled.

The muted whispers surrounding them didn’t matter. He jumped from the stage and left Trey to recover. Too long he’d waited, but no more. He would mate her and claim her. They had time to work out the kinks after. She might not understand what was happening but given time she would yearn for him in the same manner. Regardless of past entanglements or reservations—even if she wasn’t shifter but human—a mated female always came to her intended.

“Hold it right there, Diskant.” Brett barred his path with a small casting wand clutched in his hand. To the random observer it might look like a miniature baseball bat but Diskant was smart enough to know one solid tap to the head would knock him out for several hours. “Put the girl down.”

“Don’t try to stop me, lokkur.” He growled and brought the small body in his arms closer to his chest. “She is my mate. Nothing you do will stop what’s been set into motion.”

Pinkie’s strangled whimper as she began to struggle and thrash touched something inside of him and, for the first time, he smelled more than an understandable amount of anxiety.

Terror burned his nose like red pepper and traveled to the back of his throat, nearly choking him. Something he said obviously frightened her, but what?

Realization hit unexpectedly.

She was obviously human, but could she possibly know what his declaration meant? Had working around preternatural creatures caused her to come to an awareness of some kind?

Did she know what he was?

“Be still.” He lowered his voice and chastised into the delicate shell of her ear, refusing to lessen his hold, testing his theory. “You stopped me before I tore apart my friend on the stage and I’m willing to guess it was to keep the police from being called in after the last time. Did you know that outburst was over a petty squabble? One of the leopards padded across a wolf’s foot, refused to apologize and it was on. But that was nothing compared to what it could have been. Take fighting for our mates. It’s not smart to have shifters fighting over their females. In fact, it gets downright messy.”

She went silent and he listened to the muted whispers of air she drew through her nose. She definitely knew what he was, what all of them were. He wasn’t sure how or why, but he wasn’t going to waste time in the club asking.

They had more important issues to discuss.

“Come with me willingly,” he commanded in a throaty timbre, “or you can expect just that. Brett won’t let you leave with me unless you indicate it’s what you want, and I’m ready to make a go of it with him if he tries to intervene. Hell or high water, Pinkie, I’m not leaving without you. And no, that’s not a threat. It’s a bloody fucking promise.”

“Ava? Do you mind explaining what the hell is going on?” Brett glared at the bundle in his arms and Diskant fought the grin that threatened to surface when he learned his mate’s chosen name. It was beautiful, without question, but for weeks he’d thought of her as Pinkie, and he couldn’t imagine referring to her as anything else.

“I told you a lap dance was a bad idea.” She glanced up at Diskant briefly before returning her attention to the warlocke and muttering, “I didn’t realize he’d be here tonight.”

“So you do know him?” Brett didn’t seem convinced. A sharp nod was her answer and Brett’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.” Her voice was steady now and the fear Diskant had scented was replaced by anger. “I told you I didn’t need to get on the stage tonight. You didn’t listen. If you had we could have avoided this entire fiasco.”

“I wasn’t aware you are involved with someone.”

For a moment Diskant saw red. Was Brett interested in his female? Was this more than the concern of an employer for his employee? Outrage and fury coursed through him. He’d rip the magic man’s testicles off and feed them to him.

One by goddamn one.

“Now you are,” Diskant responded sharply, before Ava could.

“I wasn’t talking to you—”

“Damn it!” Ava yelled. “I don’t broadcast the goings-on of my personal life at the bar. I don’t owe you an explanation. Piss off!”

“Satisfied?” Diskant didn’t wait for a response, moved around the warlocke and strode purposefully toward the hallway. Nathan was exactly where he’d left him and moved cautiously aside and lowered his gaze to stare at the floor.

Reminded of the friend left face-up on the stage, Diskant made a mental note to call Trey in the morning to find out what the fuck was what—but not tonight. Tonight he was going to inform the tiny female in his arms that she would never touch another male because she was intended solely for him. As generous as he was with the stares and sexual comments earlier, he wasn’t one to share. That would only worsen once he was lodged deep within her and came while cradled inside those snug inner walls that would clench and milk his cock like a fisting second skin.

The wetness in his leathers told him the slit in the tip was oozing, aching and heavy balls armed and ready to pump his seed into his mate’s womb and seal the first mark between them. The other two marks would involve her implicit trust and willingness, but they didn’t have to happen overnight. Most shifters with human mates didn’t bloodbond for several months, taking time to prepare for the multitude of changes that went along with bonding to a shifter.

Chavez’s wrinkled face was waiting when he strolled into the kitchen. The chef’s brown eyes widened slightly when they settled upon Pinkie but otherwise he kept what he was thinking to himself.

“Is that for me?” Diskant lifted the hand under her knees and pointed at a large paper bag that was overflowing with Styrofoam boxes.

“We had some of the chicken parmesan left from a party upstairs. I figured it was better to give it to you instead of throwing it in the trash.”

Yes sir, Chavez always delivered.

Snagging the dual reedlike handles with his hooked index finger, he instructed, “Charge it to my account.”

“I already did.”

Diskant grinned and walked past the smaller man, nodding his thanks to the gawking line cook who opened the door wide and stepped aside. When they exited the building and the door closed with a loud report, Pinkie came to life again, struggling wildly.

“Put me down, right now!” she screeched. “I mean it, I’ll scream!”