Bengal's Heart

◆ CHAPTER 1 ◆

WOLF MOUNTAIN, COLORADO WOLF BREED BASE, HAVEN ELEVEN YEARS LATER

Cassa Hawkins slipped silently through the shadows of the Wolf Breed compound of Haven as she tried to ignore the misty rain falling and her own sense of anticipation. She felt like a ghost, like a shadow, unseen, unheard. It was a heady sensation to slip past Breed after Breed, undetected.

The chill night air wrapped around her and penetrated the black clothing she wore. Even the snug black cap that covered her hair did little to keep out the cold or the dampness. It added to the thrill, to the sense of disbelief and impending danger. She was insane, creeping around like this and she knew it. She couldn’t get far. It wasn’t possible that a drug had actually been created that could fool the Breed senses and allow her to get much farther past the sentries posted throughout Haven.

Someone was playing with her, allowing her to get only so far. That was the only explanation for the distance she had gained between the cabin she was assigned and the main offices of the compound, because there were too many Breed sentries posted. Breeds who had an incredible sense of smell. They were chosen for their positions simply because they were impossible to get past.

It wasn’t possible that such a drug could have been created, a drug that would fool the Breed’s superior ability to scent others. Was it?

According to the emails she had received and the small bottle of round white pills that had arrived at her apartment the week before, it was definitely possible. And she had been crazy enough tonight to actually take one. To slip it onto her tongue, to allow it to dissolve and enter her system before she left her cabin.

The reckless decision had concerned her, but only for brief moments. As many of her fellow reporters knew, Cassa had often been known to dare death. It was one of her faults, many said. She considered it one of her strengths. After all, her days were numbered and she knew it. She might as well get away with as much as possible until the day of reckoning arrived. Cabal may have allowed her to live this long, but she doubted that decision would last much longer.

In this case, intuition had spurred her on. The pictures of bloody bodies, the emails that had warned her that a rogue Breed was taking vengeance for some unknown crimes, and then the drug that arrived with the unsigned note that said the past always returned no matter how hard one fought it. The past was indeed always there. It hovered at her shoulder, ran through her nightmares and glittered in the golden flecks of Cabal St. Laurents’s eyes every time he looked at her. The past was alive and well. She didn’t need a killer to remind her of that. Just as she didn’t need anyone to remind her of the truth of her own actions.

The truth.

The truth was, Cassa had spilled blood herself. The truth was, once her secrets were revealed, she would die. The Breeds would never allow her to live once they knew the truth. She was lucky that the small team of Breeds who knew the truth had kept their mouths shut all these years.

She slipped past yet another Breed guard. Mordecai. One of their best trackers, rumored to be one of their most merciless Coyote Breeds. On silent feet, she moved slowly through the shadows, along the wet ground, heart racing, mouth dry, until she was a safe distance from him.

The chilly winter air gave no hint that spring was just around the corner. The cold penetrated flesh and bone, but nothing could still the excitement racing through her now. It was working. They hadn’t scented her, they hadn’t sensed her.

God, this couldn’t be possible.

Pressing her back tight to the thick trunk of a pine, she stared up at the moonless sky and whispered a silent prayer that neither one of the Breeds patrolling the area would scent her.

A drug like this could be deadly, just as her source had warned her.

Pushing away from the tree, Cassa skirted around several maples bare of leaves and dripping a chilly rain. She slid through the night.

There was a whisper of voices ahead, the sound of soft footfalls coming nearer. Ducking behind the evergreen shrubs that grew around an enclosed picnic area, she waited for them to pass.

“Are you certain of your information?” Jonas Wyatt’s voice came through the night clearly as the pair grew closer.

“Five dead, Jonas, that’s hard to mistake. Each one was rumored to be a part of a twelve-man hunting party that came together several times a year to hunt down escaped Breeds. Each one was killed in the same manner, using the same pattern. There’s no mistake.”

The voice that answered had Cassa’s heart tripping, then speeding up in awareness. She fought back the response, bit her lip and prayed that little miracle pill would cover the scent of arousal as well.

Cabal St. Laurents had a voice that made women want to melt to the floor in a puddle of orgasmic bliss. It rasped over the senses with a velvet cadence Cassa had never been able to ignore. It was a seducer’s voice, and she had been seduced long ago, even when he’d stared at her with death in his eyes.

“Hell.” Jonas paused, no more than four feet from where she crouched.

As badly as she wanted to peek over the border of shrubs, she didn’t dare. The scent of her body might be masked, but there would be no way in hell she would escape their exceptional eyesight.

“That’s a good description of what we’re facing,” Cabal answered. “It’s not over. The hunters are becoming the prey, and if the first five are any indication, we could be looking at some pretty high-profile individuals. The former mayor that disappeared last week was a well-known individual throughout the nation. We’re looking at a PR nightmare here.”

Cassa felt her mouth dry. The former mayor who had disappeared recently was David Banks, a proponent of Breed rights. He had argued for Breed Law, and had been known to host several charity parties a year in honor of the Breeds. Now he was also rumored to have been a member of a group of men that once hunted Breeds?

She could believe it. She had never liked Banks, but she knew his popularity. His smooth, charming smile and soft-spoken voice had fooled more than one journalist.

“PR is your brother’s area,” Jonas growled. “I’ll let Tanner worry about the sugar coating. I want the killer caught, Cabal. That’s your job.”

Jonas’s voice was commanding, harsh in its reminder. Yes, that was Cabal’s job, to do the things that the more public enforcers couldn’t do.

“It’s hard to do a job when there’s no evidence to go on, Jonas,” Cabal snapped, irritation clear in his voice. “There’s no DNA left on the scene, and no scent. We were notified within hours of the mayor’s disappearance. When we arrived, you could smell the scent of his terror, but the scent of his kidnapper was nowhere to be found.”

“Find something, Cabal,” he was ordered. “We’re working on borrowed time here. If you don’t find the killer before news of these murders, possibly committed by a Breed, leaks to the press, then we’re fucked.”

“It looks to me as though we’re fucked either way,” Cabal informed him, his voice cold. “Horace Engalls and Phillip Brandenmore are making certain of that.”

Brandenmore and Engalls, the owners of a pharmaceutical and drug research company, were under indictment for the drugging of the Breed doctor, Elyiana Morrey, and conspiracy to murder in several Breed deaths. They had been caught attempting to buy from her two assistants research conducted by Dr. Morrey, and were rumored to be researching a de-aging phenomenon the Breeds and their wives were supposedly experiencing.

There was no supposition to it. Cassa knew the truth of it. The Breeds were experiencing an aging decrease once they went into mating heat. The phenomenon was making Breed doctors crazy trying to figure it out, and sending the Breed Ruling Cabinet into a frenzy each time the gossip tabloids came up with another angle to tell the story from.

So far, it wasn’t being taken seriously. But that couldn’t continue much longer. It had been eleven years since the Feline Breed alpha had announced the existence of the Breeds. Ten years since he or his wife had aged in any noticeable way.

Cassa was one of the few people who knew the truth, and she knew the consequences of ever writing that story or revealing her knowledge of it. The nondisclosure agreement she had signed, in return for special consideration in interviews and breaking Breed stories, had been frightening. She was certain she might have signed away her soul, her firstborn child and her cat’s blood. Or something close.

“Engalls and Brandenmore are being dealt with,” Jonas drawled, his tone one of pure ice. “I’m more concerned with a rogue Breed’s indiscriminate killings. Find him, Cabal, or we could all be up shit creek without a paddle.”

Cabal grunted at that. “I thought we already were.”

“No, at the moment, we have a paddle,” Jonas informed him sarcastically. “Now find that bastard before he kills again. I’ll be damned if I want to try to clean up another mess like the last one. I’m certain there are still pieces of him missing.”

Cassa forced herself to silence. She had the pictures of that killing, she was certain she did. That one, and three others. Pictures that had been sent via secured, untraceable emails that accused the Breeds of hiding a killer.

She hadn’t doubted they were capable of it. She just hadn’t imagined that even a Breed could do the damage that had been done in those pictures.

Trepidation built inside her as she felt the sweat that began to trickle down her temple at the thought of being caught now. She knew Breed Law, and she knew the price of eavesdropping on this conversation. Like David Banks, she could disappear and her fate never be known.

There was once a rumor that Jonas had a fondness for throwing his enemies into volcanoes. She really didn’t doubt it. It sounded like a very “Jonas” thing to do.

“You’re pissing in the wind, Jonas,” Cabal informed him. “We have nothing to go on here. No suspects, no clues. Until I have one or the other, then there’s not a lot I can do.”

“Get it.” Jonas’s voice became dangerous, clipped. “Quickly, Cabal.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that, Director, just as soon as you tell me who the hell I’m looking for.” Cabal’s voice lowered until it vibrated with suppressed menace. “Until then, there’s not a hell of a lot more I can do.”

“Banks was from Glen Ferris. Get back there, see what you can find out. We’re supposed to be searching for him. Investigate it from that angle.”

“Just what I need, you telling me how to do my fucking job,” Cabal grunted.

“I could be telling you how to find your mate,” Jonas drawled with a hint of amusement. “I’m certain she’s around here somewhere. What do you think?”

A dangerous growl filled the air as Cassa felt her heart sink in her chest. Cabal was mated? No, that couldn’t be true. Breeds did not ignore their mates, and they sure as hell didn’t fuck around with anything in a skirt as Cabal was known to do. The man had a virtual harem kneeling at his feet, begging for the privilege of pleasing him. It was enough to make her teeth clench in irritation.

Jonas had to be talking about a mate in general, not one in particular. Such as in a seek and ye shall find, why aren’t you looking for your mate type of thing. That had to be it.

“Don’t fuck with me, Jonas,” Cabal warned him. “I’m not in the mood.”

Jonas chuckled. It wasn’t a comfortable or amused sound. It was, frankly, frightening.

“I’m not the one you have to worry about fucking with you, my friend,” he drawled. “I do believe though that our intrepid little reporter, Ms. Hawkins, could give you lessons in it.”

Cassa felt her lips part in shock. There was a hint of amusement in Jonas’s voice now, but none in Cabal’s rumbled snarl. The sound was sexy as hell even as it sent chills racing up Cassa’s spine—and a flood of warmth between her thighs.

Jonas knew exactly how Cabal felt about her; he had been there the morning Cabal had killed her husband and nearly killed her. She could still feel Cabal’s hands around her throat, see the fury and the need for blood in his eyes.

“Drop it, Jonas,” Cabal warned him.

Yes, Jonas, please drop it, Cassa moaned silently. She was becoming aroused by his voice, despite her best efforts not to do so. She was worried that whatever that pill did, it would be little defense against the scent of her need. And she was definitely needy. In the eleven years since her husband’s death, she had never been so turned on as she was when she was around Cabal St. Laurents.

“Fine, consider it dropped.” She heard the shrug in Jonas’s voice. “The heli-jet will be ready to fly you to Glen Ferris in the morning. Investigate Banks’s disappearance further. We might get lucky and you’ll find a suspect while you’re there.”

“Keep hoping,” Cabal grunted. “Trust me, if they’re hiding a feral Breed in their midst, they’re not going to turn him over simply because I ask nicely.”

The residents of Glen Ferris would be more likely to shelter and protect a feral Breed, no matter the risk to themselves. Hell, they’d been doing it for years; there was no reason to believe they wouldn’t do it now.

“You know how to ask nicely?” There was a wealth of sarcasm in Jonas’s voice.

“Go to hell.” There was a wealth of arrogance in Cabal’s.

Cassa wanted to laugh at the confrontation, even as she filed away the surprising information that had come her way. Everyone suspected that Banks was dead at this point. It had been a week since his disappearance, and there were no leads on what had happened to him. The river had been dragged, search efforts were still ongoing, but there wasn’t a clue to his whereabouts.

David Banks had gone for his evening walk one night in the little town of Glen Ferris, West Virginia. He hadn’t been seen again. His body hadn’t been found. There was no trace, no clue where he might have gone or what might have happened to him. Until now.

“I’ll return to hell, you check on our nosy reporter.” Jonas’s voice echoed with command once again as Cassa gave a small start of fear. “She was too jumpy at the reception tonight. Make sure she’s where she’s supposed to be rather than someplace where she shouldn’t be.”

Cassa sensed the air of hesitation that filled the area on the other side of the shrubs.

“Is she becoming a problem?”

She definitely didn’t like the flat, cold tone Cabal used now. He’d claimed he owned her the morning of his escape from that pit, and he took every opportunity to remind her that he could enforce that claim anytime he chose.

“She’s always a problem whether she’s here or at Sanctuary,” Jonas answered.

Cassa’s eyes narrowed. She was never a problem at Sanctuary. The Feline Breed stronghold was homier and a damned sight more welcoming to her than the Wolf Breed compound she was in now.

“You don’t know how to handle her,” Cabal injected.

Handle her? No one handled her, period.

“Only with a whip and a chair,” Jonas growled. “Callan and Merinus give her much too much freedom in Sanctuary. She thinks she deserves it elsewhere.”

“And this is my problem how?” Cabal argued. “She’s a reporter. You should have known better than to allow the invitation she was given to stand.”

Bodies shifted. Cassa was dying to look over the top of the shrubs, but she leaned to the side instead, to try to get a view through the open foliage of thick branches.

The glimmer of light from a nearby building revealed the two men. Jonas was still dressed in his tuxedo. Cabal though had changed into jeans, T-shirt and a rain-resistant jacket and boots. His black-striped golden blond hair dripped with the misty rain and fell long to his shoulders.

His shoulders were broad, his waist lean, his thighs muscular and his legs long. Standing there in the rain, he looked like the animal he was. In his prime, ready for action. Sexy as hell, mouth wateringly male.

She breathed in slow and easy, and felt the familiar slick warmth between her thighs.

“Just make certain she’s in her cabin, and well guarded, if you don’t mind,” Jonas ordered in a drawl heavy with mockery.

“And if I mind?” Cabal asked carefully.

Jonas’s teeth flashed in a hard, cold smile as the chilly rain dripped along his face and saturated his short, clipped hair.

“Then I might make you part of her protection detail rather than sending you to Glen Ferris. Come to think of it, that might be a good idea after all.”

Cabal’s brilliant green eyes narrowed, and Cassa could have sworn she saw the glitter of the amber flecks within the green as he stared back at the other Breed.

“I’ll check on her.” The hard fury that echoed in his normally cold voice surprised Cassa and sent a chill racing down her spine. Fine, so he didn’t want to be anywhere near her. She didn’t want him anywhere near her either. She would consider herself lucky if she didn’t have to run into him again, period, and she didn’t appreciate Jonas sending a babysitter to make certain she was in place.

She had to get back to her cabin before Cabal arrived there. If he found her missing from her cabin or, God forbid, sneaking around in the rain, she could just imagine the consequences. She’d lose every privilege she had gained in the past years where Sanctuary was concerned. Not to mention the fact that she would have to deal with yet more of his arrogant I own you bullshit. She almost snorted at the thought of that.

She slid back from her position silently. Heart racing, she fought to move slowly, carefully.

She was running out of time anyway, with the single pill she had taken. Two hours, the information had warned. She had spent most of that time testing it against the Breeds patrolling the compound.

Once the time limit was reached, her natural scent would return quickly, which meant she had less than half an hour to get back to the cabin.

She couldn’t let Cabal know she hadn’t been there all along, and she damned sure couldn’t face him while that drug was still in her system.

They continued to discuss her, much to her dismay, as she slowly retreated. She could hear their voices, but not what they were saying. Once she reached a safe distance, she straightened again and moved hastily through the shadows back to her cabin.

She used the heavy trees that grew throughout the compound to hide her return. Skirting the areas she knew the Breeds were prone to guard more heavily, she made it back to her cabin within twenty minutes. The delays were nerve-wracking as she waited for sentries to move slowly past her, or when she was forced to backtrack to avoid them.

Rushing back through the unlocked window of her cabin, she raced to the bathroom as she heard a vehicle pulling up in the small driveway outside.

Hell. For once, Cabal hadn’t wasted any time in following Jonas’s orders.

Twisting the knobs to the shower, she quickly adjusted the water and stripped the wet clothes from her body. Tossing the saturated fabric into a nearby closet, she grabbed her scented shampoo, squeezed a large amount into her palm and worked it quickly into her long hair before snatching the bottle of bath gel from a shelf and soaping up a sponge.

She needed scent, lots of it. Pear-scented shampoo in her hair, apple-scented bath gel. Lather built over her body from head to toe as she fought to make damned certain Cabal had plenty to smell when she faced him.

Rinsing quickly, she beat back the racing of her heart, forced herself to remain calm and assured herself the drug had time to get out of her system by the time she conditioned her hair with the pear-scented conditioner, rinsed it and shut the water off.

Minutes later she left the bathroom, her hair bound in a towel, a heavy robe wrapped around her and plenty of apple-scented body lotion smoothed over her. She smelled like a damned orchard.

Normally, she would have used the products sparingly. She preferred unscented shampoos and conditioners, even soaps. The heavy scents bothered her, as well as the Breeds she interviewed or worked with. Tonight was an exception, and she was thankful her assistant had once again slipped the scented stuff into her overnight pack.

Kelly thought everyone should smell like a fruit stand just because she did.

Calm, poised, Cassa stepped out of her bedroom into the wide living room and came to a stop at the sight of a damp-haired, much too handsome Breed, sitting in the large easy chair across the room.

It was no more than she had expected, and it wasn’t the first time she had walked into a room that should have been hers alone to find a Breed waiting for her. Though, she admitted, it was rarely this particular Breed. Thankfully, Cabal had kept as much space as possible between the two of them in the past eleven years.

“A little late for a visit, isn’t it?” She tugged at the towel around her hair as the mocking question passed her lips.

She didn’t miss the flicker of his gaze to her hair as it fell around her shoulders, curled down her back and landed just above her waist. Damp, riotous curls snaked over her shoulders and fell down the front of the robe to lie over her breasts. His gaze touched there, and Cassa was suddenly thankful for the thick material. It hid the hardening of her nipples, but she knew nothing could hide the scent of her arousal now.

Cabal’s nostrils flared, his eyes narrowed and his muscles bunched as he rose slowly from the chair to a very impressive height of six feet, four inches tall. Too tall for her, she thought.

She felt dwarfed by him, despite her own five feet eight inches. She felt too feminine, and too physically weak. She felt like those silly little twits that cooed and ahhed at the sight of him. The ones she hated because they lusted after him with such determination. The slinky little redheads that hung to his arm. The vapid little brunettes she had seen him squire around. She detested each and every one.

“You’re normally up rather late,” he stated, his voice low as his gaze flickered to her laptop. The one she hadn’t turned on all day. “I expected you to be working on whatever story you were coming up with.” There was an edge of suspicion in his voice.

Could he smell her nerves along with her arousal? Probably. But who wasn’t nervous around him?

“I don’t consider the story or my hours any of your business.” She shrugged, moved across the room and headed to the open kitchen. “I’m going to fix a pot of coffee. Interested?” In the coffee, she should have said. It was rarely a good thing to leave a question or a sentence open around a Breed.

She felt him follow her. Like a heated breath of air at her back, she could feel him behind her as she moved into the kitchen and headed for the counter.

“Nothing for me.”

No coffee, tea or me, she thought sarcastically.

She lifted her shoulder negligently. “Suit yourself.”

Silence filled the room as she programmed the coffeemaker and flipped it on. Within seconds, the scent of hot, rich coffee began to fill the room.

Cassa turned then and faced the one man, the Breed, she couldn’t seem to help but be fascinated by, despite her own best efforts.

He looked far different now than he had eleven years before, during his rescue from the labs in Germany where he was being held.

There, he had been bloodied, slashed, bruised, near death, but still fighting to survive, in a pit filled with stakes and slashing blades. His pride had fallen around him. Women, children, young men. His screams of rage still haunted her nightmares, as did the knowledge that she had played a part in the horror he had experienced. And he knew it.

Guilt seared her with a slash of pain that raced across her chest, and a sense of fear that never failed to weaken her knees. And he sensed it, just as he always did. She watched his eyes darken, his body tense as the scent of it reached him.

“I haven’t killed you yet,” he growled. “I’d imagine you could drop the fear now, Cassa.”

“Perhaps it’s just a case of feminine wariness?” She asked a question rather than making a statement. Breeds could smell a lie, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of smelling hers.

“And arousal?” His head tilted to the side as though the knowledge of it were a curiosity to him.

“I bet a lot of women are aroused by you.” She was careful to keep her tone even, calm. No nervousness, no hint of guilt. She’d learned over the years how to cover most responses when around Breeds. They sensed too much, knew too much. And Cassa had far too many secrets.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he stated, as he continued to watch her much too closely. “Why fear me now?”

Cassa could only shake her head. And stare. She stared at those golden flecks in his eyes, unable to break the hold they had on her. She wanted, no, she ached to touch him, and that was by far the most dangerous impulse she had ever known. And the thought of that need infuriated her. He was the last man in the world she should ache for. The last one that she should need, and she knew it.

“What do you want, Cabal?” She bit the words out as she tried to hold back her anger and her need.

His gaze narrowed. The look was a warning, and it was one that common sense suggested she heed. Unfortunately, common sense had never been her strong point.

“I hear you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with the Feline Breed doctor, Ely Morrey,” he stated. “Why?”

Why? Why, because she was afflicted, that was why. Because her body insisted on retaining some damned hormone within it that she had picked up when she had lost her sanity eleven years ago.

She remembered the moment clearly. The second she had touched her fingers to her lips and tasted Cabal’s blood on them. Such a small thing. It shouldn’t have been enough, and actually, it hadn’t been enough to begin mating heat. But it had been enough to affect her in curious ways. Ways that Dr. Morrey was still attempting to decipher.

Mating heat was the Breed curse. Some Breeds claimed it was their strength; others saw it as a weakness. Of course, it did depend on whether or not the Breed was mated.

“I’m working on a story.” That was definitely a lie, and there was no way to hide the scent of it.

A dark blond brow lifted with mocking curiosity.

“I hate it when you lie to me,” he warned her softly. “You’ve been making visits to Ely for the past several years on a regular basis. You would have written the story by now.”

Cassa’s chin lifted at the deliberate arrogance in his tone.

“Ely’s a friend of mine, Cabal, just as the other wives at Sanctuary are friends. I don’t need an excuse to visit with them any more than you need an excuse to visit with your pride leader, Callan.”

It was a deliberate attempt to get him off the subject of Ely. Everyone knew that Cabal recognized no Breed as his pride leader. He had lost his pride, his family, during a rescue that had gone to hell, and he claimed no other.

“Stop trying to distract me,” he growled as he moved closer.

Cassa could feel that nearness. She swore her body heated by several degrees when he moved closer.

“I wouldn’t dare attempt to distract you.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her robe as she glared at him. “Don’t you have better things to do than to harass me? Shouldn’t you be out shooting at Breed enemies or lurking in the shadows for some reason?”

His jaw tightened. To say he was displeased would be putting it mildly. But she had never pleased this particular Breed in any manner. She doubted she would begin tonight.

“Are you in mating heat?”

The question had her staring at him in shock. Excitement raced through her now, just as it always did anytime they came anywhere close to a confrontation. She could feel her body flushing with heat, her heart racing furiously.

“If I were, would I be here arguing with you?” she snapped back. “I’d be with my mate, wouldn’t I?”

Unfortunately not. Her mate was standing in front of her, and he was known as the Breed poster boy for sexual excess. The son of a bitch had had more women under his belt in the past eleven years than most men could achieve in two lifetimes. He was a tomcat, plain and simple.

She watched as his jaw tightened further, as his nostrils flared in his attempt to catch the scent of mating heat.

Cassa wondered how the mates of Breeds could stand knowing that any Breed in the vicinity could tell when they were in heat and aroused. It had to be horribly discomforting. She knew for a fact that the physical discomfort could become excessively painful, and in some cases, dangerous.

She would have preferred to have stayed as far away from mating heat as possible.

“You’re up to something.” His lip lifted in irritation. It was incredibly sexy the way he flashed a single canine while glaring at her.

She scoffed at him in reminder. “I’m a television investigative reporter. We’re always up to something, Cabal. It’s part of our job description.”

For some reason, he liked to forget that little fact. Then she forgot it as well, as he moved closer. Just that quickly, his harder, stronger body was flush against hers, as she backed herself right into the wall.

She stared up at him in shock. A distant part of her brain quickly analyzed the strange sensations that shot through her. Flames seemed to scorch her flesh; she swore she broke out in a sweat, and her nerve endings became so sensitive that even the whisper of his breath against her cheek was a stroke of pleasure.

Sweet Lord have mercy, she thought. She was throbbing from head to toe, and so ready to throw him to the floor and fuck him that it was pathetic. She wanted to ride him. She wanted to feel all that male power and sleek, hard muscle brushing against her naked flesh, driving inside her.

Her vagina clenched, her womb spasmed and the liquid heat that trickled between her thighs should have been embarrassing. She was so ready for him her knees were weak.

But if she was ready for him, it was nothing compared to how ready he was. His cock pressed into her lower stomach through their layers of clothes, his expression gone enigmatic, but his eyes, the gold flecks in his eyes, were richer, deeper than ever before.

“This is your warning,” he growled, as his hands clenched against the wall by her head. “Keep pushing me, Cassa, and I won’t stop next time.”

“You’ll stop.” She could barely speak. Excitement churned through her system, making her voice as weak as her knees. “You won’t rape me.”

“I won’t,” he agreed as his gaze flickered over her face. “But we both know mating heat will. Don’t we, mate?”

Her lips parted in surprise. She had known, but she hadn’t realized he had. How long had he known? For how many years had he been screwing everything in skirts when he had known all along what was building between them?

Before she could blast him, deny him or spurt out a protest, he pushed away from her, turned his back and strode from the kitchen. The only sound in the house after he opened the front door was the sound of that plate shattering on the door where his head should have been.

“You bastard!” she yelled furiously, anger churning inside her now. “You tomcatting, whore-mongering snake.” Another plate flew for emphasis and shattered against the wall. “Your mate my ass!” She kicked an end table. “Not in this lifetime.” Would she ever admit it? she finished to herself silently.

Because to admit that, she would have to admit so much more. To needs that haunted her through the night, and truths that dogged her through the day. She would have to admit she loved him. And that was something Cassa refused to do.