He knew it was too soon to give her the second mark, but god help him, the moment he’d felt her teeth against his throat he had never wanted anything more and he hadn’t wanted to stop her from tasting his blood. The moment she reminded him of what he’d done—staring at him with her enormous blue eyes full of confusion and hurt—guilt had hit like a freight train.
He wanted to reassure her, to take her somewhere they could be alone and talk. But damn it to hell, he had to meet Trey and Emory to find out what the fuck was going on. Some serious shit was going down and he didn’t want his mate anywhere near it.
His mate.
Ava mine.
Each thought was crystal clear, as crisp and detailed as if he’d spoken aloud.
Jesus Christ and shit.
She could read him.
Diskant fought an inner war with himself, desperate to ease his mate yet forced to see to those waiting for him just outside. Never had he regretted his status as Omega or wished to be just another shifter in the big wide fucking world. It was a tremendous responsibility he always respected and honored. Obligation, however, was a bitch of a mistress when you had to put others before yourself and the needs of your mate.
The moment they’d entered Dougan’s, he’d known the pack understood his need for privacy. Newly bonded pairs were always unstable at the beginning, their desires uncontrollable at best. That understanding, unfortunately, would only last so long. Already he could sense their unease, their impatience. Shifters weren’t telepathic by nature but they could communicate through shared mental images and feelings. He could perceive the worries of the pack mates outside. They were uncertain and edgy. The one who had the power to bring all of the shifter races together was newly mated, making him unstable and unhinged when they needed him most.
Ava gasped and her sapphire blue eyes went wide. He felt her tremble in his grasp, her full lower lip quivering. Concern for her overrode the need to protect those who turned to him for guidance. She was the most important thing in his life now. Without her, he wasn’t complete.
To hell with it. He would make fucking time.
“Pinkie, what’s wrong?”
She jerked as if roused from a sound slumber and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Then she smiled, bestowing the most cock-rocking grin he’d ever seen, and leaned forward to brush her lips against his. This kiss was more intentional than the rest, as if she were offering him a different part of herself. He softened his grip and leaned into her. Her lips parted and their tongues tangoed, back and forth, side to side. The tenderness of the movements was not lost on him, nor was the way she pressed against him like a trusting, sultry armful of woman.
He lifted away and peered into her flushed face. She was beautiful like this—lips swollen, cheeks flushed. As he moved away and gave her room he braced for the previous anger he’d been given a dose of and watched in shock as she retrieved the rest of her clothes and began slipping them on without another word.
“I know you have a lot of questions,” he said, gauging her reaction.
She nodded as she buttoned her jeans and bent to pick up her boots. “I found out about shifters because you were the only people I couldn’t read. As a child I thought you were special like me. When I got older I realized there was a lot more to it.”
“Are you a member of the Villati?” The question was direct, no frilly cushion or chocolate-covered coating.
“No.” At his disbelieving frown, she added, “They’ve approached me, which is baffling since I haven’t told anyone what I can do. I can only assume they have some supersecret way to keep tabs on everyone who isn’t considered normal. I told them to piss off and they have.”
“Is there anything you want to ask me?”
He smoothed his shirt but didn’t bother with the stretched collar or his jacket. Even though everyone in a given proximity was already aware, he wanted everyone to see her mark of claim for as long as it lingered on his skin. He wanted to savor the gift she’d given, show the entire fucking world she’d staked possession just as clearly as he had.
“No,” she answered and slid into her sneakers.
“No?” he repeated, sure his ears were deceiving him.
“No,” she told him firmly and adjusted her clothes. “You said we don’t have time for this, so why don’t you take care of what you need to and we can discuss this after.”
“Are you all right?” He studied her, watching for any indication the second mark hadn’t done something extra.
“I’m as right as rain.” She actually fucking smiled at him. “Are you?”
Christ. She was as mellow now as she had been pissed before. Nothing made sense, but then, that had been his life the last few weeks.
She crossed the room, running her fingers through her hair. The blonde and pink strands remained upright in several places while the rest fell in jagged pieces along her forehead. Standing directly in front of him, she slowly looked up and placed her hands against his chest. If intended to ease him, the contact had the exact opposite result. His cock swelled once more, fully armed and loaded.
“We’d better go.” His words turned into a groan as her hands descended until her palms rested on his abdomen.
“Okay,” she murmured seductively and rose on her toes to press a kiss to his throat. His entire body shuddered at the touch of her lips, muscles going taut.
“If you don’t watch it, I’m going to rip those clothes back off, put you facedown on the desk and make them wait even longer.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Just wait until I really get you alone.”
She pulled away but the smile remained. “Shall we?”
For a moment he allowed that newfound connection between them to expand. Emotions between mated pairs were enhanced when angry, excited or frightened, meaning it wasn’t as easy to hide them unless you made a conscious effort to. Right now her calm and playful demeanor echoed her mood. In fact, from what he could feel, she was downright amused.
Shaking his head, he took her hand, turned and unlocked the door. After glancing at the bag just inside the office, he decided it would be safe enough until they came back for it.
The noise hit first. The big screen television was blasting some sports event while the sound of glasses being stacked and sorted echoed from the bar. They walked down the hall and the voices went quiet.
Diskant guided her through the tables slowly, wanting everyone to see his mate and appreciate what a lucky bastard he was. They all recognized Ava as his other half and could smell his mating scent all over them. Several of the shifters lowered their eyes and turned their heads to reveal their throats—a display of respect and deference—while a few turned away, obviously unhappy with the fact he’d mated with a human.
As he’d expected, Trey, Nathan and Emory were seated in the booth at the far wall. The stark amber glow in their matching irises warned him they were still juiced from whatever they’d discovered at the warehouse. All of them looked like they’d been on a bender, with thick stubble lining their lower jaw and chins, but Emory looked the worst.
Diskant assessed the Alpha, noting that his once-long hair was now cut short, the ink-black strands now curving along his head and ears. He seemed harder somehow—not a good sign. When he’d left New York after he and Trey had nearly torn each other apart, Emory’d had the temperament, and the short fuse, of a fucking pit bull. Diskant couldn’t recall a time he’d seen the Alpha this unkempt and ragged, with rumpled clothing and a wild, untrusting gleam in his eyes.
Not since the night Trey almost killed him.
Stopping at the empty, left-hand side of the table, Diskant bent down to whisper into Ava’s ear, “In you go,” and waited until she complied before he followed suit. As soon as his ass hit the seat, she slid up against him, her hip in solid contact with his, and placed her hand on his thigh. A ball of white-hot, undeniable sexual need shot from his stomach to his groin, causing the muscles beneath her palm to tighten, the skin just around her fingers suddenly sensitive and heated.