“And?” prodded Nick.

“And nothing. He’s an ass to me.”

“He’s an ass to you?”

It turned out that telling him that had been an extremely bad move on her part, because then Nick was marching toward her neighbor’s house. She hurried after him. “Nick, just leave it.”

“Leave it?” he scoffed without breaking stride. “Not a chance.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.” That kind of disturbance would be bad enough for human hearing. For shifter hearing, it was painful.

“He’s doing this to get a reaction because I pissed him off by rejecting him and vandalizing his car. Don’t give him that reaction.”

“You vandalized his car?” He’d bet that her beloved bat was involved.

“It’s just a party.”

“That’s not a party. That’s an attempt to aggravate you.”

He was right about that. “Did you forget that two of Logan’s men are watching you?” The last thing she wanted was Nick being violent right now.

In truth, for a few seconds, he actually had. “Not a problem. They’ll just assume we’re going to the party. And if they look to be suspicious, Derren will know to distract them.” Then Nick was marching up the driveway of her neighbor’s house.

“Nick, for God’s sake, listen to me!” But he didn’t. Instead, he began pounding his fist on the front door. A few seconds later, the door swung open and a tall blonde dressed in…pretty much nothing was eying Nick like he was a snack. Shaya didn’t like that. So she growled. As if to reassure her, Nick closed his hand over hers.

Keeping Shaya close, Nick pushed his way inside and closed the door behind him, not wanting the extremists to see anything. “Where’s Eric?” he asked the blonde.

Looking suddenly nervous—though it didn’t seem to stop her from ogling Nick, which pissed Shaya the hell off—the blonde pointed down the hallway. “He’s in the kitchen.”

With a tight hold on Shaya’s hand, Nick strode toward the kitchen. His expression must have been bad, because people parted to let him through as he advanced down the hallway. He’d gotten a glimpse of her neighbor a few times, so he knew exactly who he was looking for. No sooner had he spotted the guy than Nick was in front of him with his free hand curled around his throat.

Shock took over Eric’s face, and his eyes bulged. “What the—”

“Don’t speak. Just listen.”

The chattering in the room suddenly stopped, and Shaya was pretty sure that if Nick had been anybody else, people would have intervened. But it was like Derren had once said: When Nick was angry, people paid attention. At that moment, he was absolutely livid, and only a fruit loop would have wanted Nick’s wrath shifted to them. Her wolf was feeling pretty smug about the whole thing, liked that her mate was protecting her; it was important to her to know that he could.

“You can see Shaya beside me,” growled Nick. Eric’s eyes briefly flickered to her. “So I don’t think I need to explain why I’m here or why I’d like to snap your neck, do I?”

Eric did what was typical of any bully—he stood down the second someone stronger than him confronted him. Rather than fighting Nick’s grip, he stayed very still. “No.”

“I don’t think I need to explain what will happen if you don’t stop making yourself a problem for her, do I?” When Eric’s eyes again moved to Shaya, Nick tightened his hold on the bastard’s throat. “Don’t look at her. Look at me. Now answer my question. I don’t need to explain what will happen, do I?”

Eric shook his head as much as Nick’s grip would allow.

“Tell me,” rumbled Nick. “Tell me what I’ll do to you if you ever even try to upset her again.”

His voice came out strained and hoarse. “You’ll beat me up.”

Nick tsked. “Wrong. I’ll slash you open, rip out your intestines, and string you up by them. Because Shaya’s very, very important to me. And you know that voice in your head that tells you not to do wrong? I have one of those, but it doesn’t give a shit about right and wrong when someone upsets her.”

Seeing that not only was Eric likely to piss himself but that Nick was having difficulty staying in control, Shaya squeezed Nick’s free hand lightly and supportively, whispering low enough for only him to hear, “It’s okay. Let him go.” His hold on Eric loosened, but he didn’t release him. “Let him go, Nick. Come on.” She squeezed his hand again, pressing herself against his side. Inhaling deeply, Nick released Eric and locked his arm around Shaya. She should have moved away, but instead she melted against him, knowing he needed it. “Let’s go.” Turning, she realized that—no surprise—Derren was in the doorway of the kitchen.

He raised a questioning brow at her and Nick, asking, “Everything okay?”

Nick began leading her out of the house with Derren at their side. “Just making friends. Shay thinks I should get some.”

She snorted. “Shaya also thinks you should be keeping a low profile right now, not confronting idiotic humans.” He simply shrugged, like that was irrelevant when the subject matter was her. He truly was a law unto himself. And that was when something occurred to her. She’d originally thought he’d give up on winning her over after a series of rejections, but now she wasn’t so sure. Outside, she turned to him. “You could never be ‘handled’ by anyone, could you?”

Derren barked a laugh. “People have tried.”

Having thrown Derren a scowl, Nick met her gaze. “You’re beginning to realize that getting me to leave won’t be as simple as you thought,” he surmised. “Good. By all means keep trying to push me away if you feel you must, baby. But it won’t make a damn bit of difference.” It was a warning as much as it was a vow. He trailed the tip of his finger from her temple, down her cheek, over her jaw, and along her neck until he reached the collar of her T-shirt. “I won’t give you up. Not for anything. Not even for you.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Nick had never had so much trouble putting one foot in front of the other. But while an ass like that was right there in front of him, he had no interest in moving anyway. As Shaya was bent over riffling through a shelf of canned foods, Nick simply gazed at her ass in awe. What he wouldn’t give to know what kind of underwear she wore under that skintight denim. Normally he didn’t like jeans on a woman; they didn’t allow him easy access and they hid way too much, but with Shaya it was a sweet torment having it all left to the imagination. He looked for a panty line but couldn’t make one out. Maybe she was wearing a thong. Maybe she was going commando. Fuck.