She nipped him sharply on the lower lip. “Are you trying to kill me?”

No curve of his lips, but she could swear she felt a sunburst inside her. “Yes,” she said, “you can kiss me anywhere you like.” Squeezing his cock with her internal muscles, she sat back up.

The cords of his neck standing out in stark relief, and his hands at her waist, he rose up using nothing but the power of his abs—oh, how she liked that—and locked his mouth over her nipple. He didn’t only suck; he tongued her as he might her mouth, taking the kissing lessons and putting them to good use.

“Bozhe moi.” She leaned into him, tumbling him to his back with her over him.

Unfazed, Ethan switched to her other breast.

The man was going to leave her limp and melted if he got that mouth anywhere between her legs. Moaning at the thought, Selenka pulled at his hair. He looked up . . . after one final suck. Oh, her mate was definitely going to be trouble in bed now that he was finding his feet.

Smile primal, she bit at his lower lip again and moved on him because she couldn’t stay still. He sucked in a breath . . . then flipped them, so he was on top, all without disconnecting their intimately linked bodies. Hair falling over his forehead and eyes black ink, he braced himself on his arms above her.

“Is this acceptable?” A rough question.

Selenka scraped her claws over his shoulders. “Yes.” She wasn’t the type of alpha who had to be on top always—what was the fun in that? Especially since her mate was a dominant, too.

The thought hitched, caught, felt wrong.

Then Ethan ran his hand down to her hip, squeezed and tried out a stroke, and the thought was torn in two by shocks of erotic pleasure. Raising her arms up above her head, she stretched luxuriantly as she wrapped her legs around his hips. His hands came down over her open palms, his fingers weaving with hers.

His first two strokes were experimental, his third one more confident. By the fourth, she was arching up her body to meet his, their bodies coming together in a soft clash of flesh, the liquid sound of her readiness, and his harsh breathing as he speeded up.

At one point, he tried to slow but she broke their handclasp to scratch her claws down his back and said, “Give me everything, Ethan,” and he kissed her while never stopping his motions. It was fast and messy and they lost the rhythm at the end and she came so hard she saw stars—as she felt him pulse inside her again and again and again, his shoulders slick under her palms.

Chapter 24

Status on capture of Operative C: eighty percent certainty the individual will be conclusively identified and within our grasp in the next four hours.

—Abbot Storm, Strike Team Epsilon, to Aden Kai

OPERATIVE CRAY ATTEMPTED to contact Ethan Night multiple times and failed. The Arrow had his shields locked so tight that nothing was getting in or out. That could simply mean he was involved in an action that required concentration, or it could be problematic. Cray needed contact with him to figure out the answer, but he was leaning toward problematic.

Despite what he’d told the Architect, Ethan Night was a wild card.

Deciding to attempt contact again in another ten hours, Cray considered his ace in the hole and decided to set up that option. This contact had to be done via the comm and it was successful at first attempt, though the screen remained blank.

Cray had connected with the anonymous individual who called themselves Wolf Killer via a dark web chat room dedicated to Cray’s business as an arms dealer. Their conversations had been about explosives and guns for a long time, until Wolf Killer indicated a base in Moscow. Taking a risk based on the other person’s user name, Cray had decided to make a soft approach. And found fertile ground.

“Have you had any success in causing suspicion between the StoneWater bears and the BlackEdge wolves?” An old gambit that had failed in other quarters but was worth pursuing here at least once, given the two packs’ history of aggression toward one another.

“I had a plan in place, but it was compromised by the precipitous actions of others.” The voice was robotic, fed through a cheap anonymizer that nonetheless did the task.

“We did, however, take advantage of an unexpected opportunity to kill one of Selenka Durev’s lieutenants,” the contact said. “I propose eliminating them all one by one. A weak BlackEdge won’t be able to hold its territory and the entire area will destabilize as others attempt to move in, or the bears start flexing their muscle. You’ll get what you want—just another way.”

Cray could see the logic. “Wolves aren’t easy to kill—you’ve done well.” There was only one issue. “You called the alpha by her name. You’re making this personal. It is not personal—it is about power.”

“You’re right—the recent failure got to me. But I’ll focus on the success. BlackEdge will soon be broken.” A hardness to Wolf Killer’s tone that came through even the anonymizer. “Remember our deal—I get power in this area after I crush the wolves. The Consortium supports me; it doesn’t interfere.”

“The Consortium will have no reason to interfere with a loyal collaborator who does not get in our way.” Cray signed off . . . and saw a motion out of the corner of his eye, on the balcony directly outside his apartment.

He hadn’t closed the curtains.

And now it was too late. The teleporter who’d appeared there had seen him. Blue eyed and black haired, the male was in the room with Cray before Cray could send out a telepathic alert to warn the Architect that he’d been discovered.

The Arrow shot him point-blank in the chest.

Chapter 25

Capture complete. Target is stunned and in my custody.

—Abbot Storm, Strike Team Epsilon, to Aden Kai

SELENKA WAS ALMOST asleep on top of her mate when she stirred herself. “We have to sleep clothed today.” Just in case a packmate needed her.

And if she knew her people, someone would’ve already left a box of clothes for Ethan. Taken from their stores, it’d be nothing fancy, probably sweatpants and a tee, maybe a pair of jeans, new underwear.

Yawning, she lifted her head and took in his face. “You’re not bleeding. Good.”

Fingers weaving into her hair, hesitant, then sure when she laid her head back down instead of pulling away. “Even if I bled, I wouldn’t miss this.” A whisper of air against her temples. “If I’m to burn out before I get to live in the light, I would know you. I would go out with your wildness and loyalty and courage emblazoned on every neuron in my brain.”

Claws slicing out, Selenka held him to her. Held this fascinating and complex man with the beautiful voice and the broken, jagged edges within. Edges that scraped her raw and made her wolf snarl. The animal kept insisting those edges shouldn’t be there. But in those edges lived Ethan and so it accepted them without ever budging from its stance that there was something inside him that shouldn’t exist.

Heart tight and angry, she kissed him long and hard before rising off him to pull on her robe, then checked outside the door. She found a small box to the left of the doorway. The corridor was otherwise empty, the lighting dimmed for the late hour—or the very early hour, depending on your viewpoint.

Pulling the box inside, she put it on the desk at which she sometimes worked. It wasn’t used much—she might not be as openly nosy as Margo, but she had a full measure of the pack gene. She liked being around her packmates, liked their interruptions and their gossip, and the way the pups would drop by simply to see her or show her their secret treasures.

Selenka’s inability to open her heart might’ve made her a bad bet as a lover until Ethan slammed into her, but she was a good alpha and all those interruptions to her day were a welcome comment on that.

“Sweatpants.” Pulling out the well-washed gray pair, she threw them at Ethan—who looked good enough to eat lying passion-wrecked in their bed.

Selenka was used to male bodies; changelings weren’t prudes about nudity. They all came out of a shift naked, so it was pointless to get strange about it. Bodies were bodies. She was even used to extremely well-defined male bodies, with muscles carved as if into marble.

Her pack was full of dangerous, honed predators. A six-pack—even an eight-pack—wasn’t an unusual sight. Neither were ripped biceps or taut thighs. But no one else was put together like Ethan. He was a cool drink of water, all sleek and strong and deadly. Not an ounce of anything else on him, just pure muscle and strength.

Frowning as he rose to pull on the sweatpants, she took her eyes off his body to go to the comm. Her intent had been to input a food order with the kitchen, but she saw she had a message waiting from Nodira and Maviya.

Fourteen and twelve, one with doll-like eyes and silky hair, the other leggy and with curls that wouldn’t stay put. Both deeply attached to Selenka, their big sister who lived so far from them—but who would cut her veins to protect their fragile lives. Perhaps they would’ve had a different relationship had the girls been born while Selenka had still been an angry, abandoned teen, but she’d been eighteen at Nodira’s birth, her response to the new arrival a storm of protective love.

After making a mental note to respond to the two tomorrow, she sent the order. She pretty much never used that privilege unless she was doing so for a packmate who needed an alpha’s care. But her wolf needed to feed Ethan.

A return message popped up almost at once: Selya, I already put something aside for you. I’ll send it with one of my runners.

Selenka should’ve known. Oksana might be only twenty-nine, but she mothered everyone, even her alpha: Thank you. I know you must be tired.

I’m baking the most enormous batch of cookies. Added some from the first lot to your tray.

Selenka smiled sadly. They all grieved—and cared for others—in different ways. Spasibo, Sana.

Ethan had put on his sweatpants and picked up her used towel by the time she turned around. As she watched, he went to the bathroom, returned without the towel. “You’re neat,” she drawled, finding intense pleasure in having him here, in her space.