Stygian's Honor

CHAPTER 4

Maneuvering the classic Harley through the crowded parking lot of the Desert Rose, Stygian let a grimace twist his lips at the thought of entering the building.

He was a solitary sort of Breed. He had rarely worked with more than a four-man team until joining the Bureau of Breed Affairs.

He didn’t like crowds and he didn’t like the press of dozens or more human bodies bearing down on him, as they seemed to do in nightclubs and bars.

But tonight, Liza was in there.

His mate.

Son of a bitch, he hadn’t expected to find his mate in this sunbaked land.

Hell, he hadn’t expected to find his mate at all, actually.

Parking the Harley and engaging the anti-theft security, he stepped from the motorcycle, all too aware of the gazes locked on him.

Customers had spilled from the bar, some to socialize, a few to make their way to their vehicles, while two couples in the shadows had been making out with heated lust. Hell, if he had Liza stretched out in the back of a pickup, the last thing he’d have on his mind was some mangy Breed who had just pulled in.

Pushing back the long strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead, he made his way to the entrance and stepped inside. Narrowing his gaze, he searched the interior until he found her.

A growl rumbled in his throat at the sight of the four men she was sitting with.

Deputy Cullen Maverick, a former Special Forces demolitions expert; Steven Jacobs and his brother, a communications expert on the same team, Reever Jacobs. Next to them was a man even the Breeds hadn’t managed to pull information up on yet. The one they had all agreed had to be the Bengal Judd, Klah Hunter.

He’d shown up nine years before in Window Rock and survived doing odd jobs. He never stayed at one job long, and he had never made many friends outside the Jacobs brothers and the deputy.

Claire and Chelsea Martinez each sat on one side of Liza, and all seven of the group were leaning in close and talking low.

Stygian had noticed, though, that Klah Hunter’s gaze had locked on him the minute he stepped into the bar.

Moving across the room, Stygian watched as they all straightened and Liza’s head slowly turned toward him.

Long strands of what he knew had to be living silk, dark blond, highlighted and streaked, her hair flowed over her shoulder and fell across the thin navy blue silk material covering her breasts.

She’d come to the bar straight from the office. The slim white skirt and dark blue silk blouse looked as damned sexy now as it had when he’d watched her leave the house that morning.

As he neared their table, the four men watched him warily.

Stygian grabbed a chair, flipped it around and angled it in beside Liza.

Pure dislike entered several of the men’s gazes.

Straddling the chair, he leaned against the back and met each of their gazes firmly.

“What are you doing here?” Liza hissed as the silence around the table became distinctly uncomfortable.

“Even Breeds enjoy a cold beer every now and then.” He let a grin touch his lips as the perfect arch of her brows lowered in a fierce frown.

“I bet they do.” Chelsea’s grin was filled with teasing enjoyment as she sat back and glanced between him and Liza. “According to Malachi, they enjoy messing with our heads even more.”

Stygian had to chuckle. Chelsea Martinez wasn’t one to keep her smart-ass thoughts to herself, or to sugarcoat much.

“That’s always an enjoyable exercise,” he agreed with a quick grin as he caught Liza’s frown turning to a glare in his periphery. “Though, to be honest, I much prefer a more straightforward approach.”

“Oh, really?” Liza muttered. “And how do you manage that? I thought Breeds were allergic to honesty.”

He could see how she might feel that way after her meeting with Jonas two days before.

“Not so much allergic as merely wary.” Leaning his arms against the top rail of the seatback, he turned his head to her, ensuring she glimpsed the arousal raging inside him.

Two days.

He’d managed to keep his distance for two miserably long days, and he’d had enough.

She was his.

His mate.

She would be his woman.

His world and his life.

If he could convince her to take that chance.

Well, if he could manage to steal a kiss from those sweet lips.

It might have been easier if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Isabelle Martinez, mate to Malachi Morgan, had already warned her friends of the mating phenomena.

“You’re not wanted here, Breed.” Klah Hunter kept his voice low, but his tone was nothing if not dominant and filled with warning.

Stygian didn’t bother to even glance his way.

“Dance with me.” Staring into Liza’s eyes, he knew if he didn’t have her against him soon, he was likely to end up in a fight instead.

“If she wanted to dance with you, then she would have invited you,” Klah snapped. “This is a get-together for friends only, Breed. You’re in no position to apply for the title.”

“I’m not applying for the position of friend,” he assured the other man—Breed?

He didn’t bother to explain the position he was after. Hell, he wasn’t picky at this point. He’d take missionary if that was all she was offering.

Though, he was partial to doggie style.

He was certain that wasn’t exactly the sort of position any of them had in mind, though.

“What exactly do you have in mind then?” Cullen Maverick spoke up as he leaned back in his chair and lifted the frosted bottle of beer to his lips. “Or should I just go ahead and kill you for thinking you can have more than Liza might want to give?”

“Whoa, enough.” Liza turned on them all then. “I don’t need bodyguards nor do I need anyone to defend my honor.”

The four men turned as one to frown back at her.

The air of sudden male dominance had a snarl threatening to pull at Stygian’s lips.

His woman.

His mate.

He’d never allow another male to order her to do anything. Especially anything in direct opposition to what he wanted.

“They’re not telling us the truth in regards to why they’re here, Liza, you know that as well as the rest of us do,” Klah argued. “He has no business around you.”

“Maybe he has other things in mind.” Chelsea grinned then. “Things that are none of your business, Klah.”

Liza’s chair scraped back from the table, a hint of fear and nervousness suddenly scenting the air around her.

“Let’s dance then,” she muttered as he rose to his feet beside her. “Instead of starting the fight you seem intent on.”

“Me?” He almost laughed as she grabbed his wrist. He allowed her to give the impression that she was pulling him to the dance floor. “That was your friends, baby, not me.”

The fast, hard beat of the country-western music faded away and as they stepped to the dance floor, the band eased into a slow, sensual tune instead.

He caught the little muttered curse as it slipped free of her glossy lips and couldn’t hold back a low chuckle as he took her into his arms.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked. Her small hands pressed against his chest almost defensively.

The fact that she felt she would have to protect herself against him, her mate, had him tensing in regret.

Her fingertips were rubbing against the fine cotton of his shirt though, making him wonder if she was searching for the warmth of his chest. That gesture, small though it was, gave him hope that perhaps a part of her knew she could trust him.

“I make it my business to know where you are. And who you’re with.”

Tightening his arm around her back, he brought her closer, luxuriating in the sweet response of her body, the heavy throb of life in the vein at her throat and the hunger he could scent building in her slight body.

The need to cover her, to push inside the liquid heat of her pussy was going to make him crazy.

“Why do you make it your business?” Confusion filled her now. “I’m nothing to you, Mr. Black.”

Oh, how wrong she was.

Stygian stared into the gray of her eyes and sensed something more than the bravado she was fighting so hard to bolster as he held her against him.

“Perhaps I’d like for that to change.”

Liza stared up at the Breed, feeling their bodies swaying in perfect accord, before she was even aware that she was moving in time to his much larger body.

She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. That he’d made his intentions so clear, so quickly.

“And if that’s not what I want?”

“I would find that very hard to believe,” he retorted. “As you said as we left the hotel, it would be impossible to miss the fact that you are very interested.”

“Oh God, I hate Breeds and their sense of smell.” She had to tear her eyes from his, but she couldn’t force her body away from him.

“Come out with me tonight.” It was more a demand than a request. “We could just ride around awhile. Maybe find a nice place to stop and talk.”

Her lips parted to refuse. She couldn’t afford to become involved with him.

Not with him or any other man.

“I brought the motorcycle.” His head lowered, his lips at her ear, the warmth of his breath teasing the sensitive flesh. “The wind in your hair. The night surrounding us.”

“Danger stalking us? A Breed who’s obviously searching for a ghost and believes I could lead him to her?” she asked, incredulous. “How intelligent does that sound?”

“Do you think I wouldn’t protect you? That where I took you I would allow you to be in any danger?”

“Control the world that easily, do you?” She snorted. “Besides, I’m not exactly dressed for a motorcycle ride.”

But he could feel the desire inside her to go with him. To take that chance.

“Talk to Chelsea, have her exchange clothing with you,” he suggested. “Come on, Liza, be brave,” he dared her.

He sensed her need to do just that, to step outside of herself. The animal inside him could feel that need.

That dark, inner core of a woman so locked down, so hidden inside her subconscious that he wondered if even she was aware of it.

“Why me?” The question was whispered against his ear as he bent closer to her, nuzzling her hair from her neck as he moved her around the dance floor.

“Why you?” The rumble of the growl was involuntary at the slender column of her neck as he spoke. “Because I’ve been so hard for you, and only you, for the past two days, that I swear my dick is going to permanently have the imprint of my jeans zipper.”

Her breath caught.

Liza felt the overwhelming need to push her own boundaries, to ask Chelsea to change clothes with her, to slip onto the back of his motorcycle and escape into the night with him.

“I want you, Liza,” he said. “My lips on yours, slow and easy, then deeper. Harder. I want to lick your lips, taste them. Then, I want to taste the rest of you. Every inch of your sweet body.”

Every inch?

Her thighs clenched, her clit swelling, moisture gathering between the folds of her pussy at the thought of him touching her—tasting her—there.

“I can’t do this.” She didn’t know if she could allow herself to take what he was offering. The implications of the cost could well be more than she could bear.

She could sense it. Deep, deep inside herself she could sense the knowledge that by allowing Stygian to take her, she would be destroying herself in ways she never wanted to face.

“No.” The music eased away as she suddenly pulled from his arms, forcing herself away from him as she gave her head a hard shake. “I can’t do this. I just can’t—”

Catching her arm as she turned away from him, Liza found herself facing a full-grown, dominant, lust-driven Breed intent on having the woman who dared arouse him in such a way.

“This isn’t good-bye,” he assured her. “We’re not finished. I came here to spend the evening with you, Liza. And I mean to do just that.”

As a fast tune began blaring from the band, Stygian shot the singer a hard glare before leading Liza from the dance floor. The fact that he wasn’t pleased with the music was more than apparent.

The fact that he wanted her was even more apparent.

Malachi had warned her that a Breed, once certain that the woman he wanted was as drawn to him, could only be turned away if he knew the object of his lust, his affection, or whatever they called it, if her objections were stronger than her need.

Breeds didn’t force the sexual aspects, they didn’t stalk, nor did they harass. They charmed, cajoled and teased. They built the hunger and the need until their potential lovers fell willingly into their arms.

He’d been a fount of information after he and Isabelle had become lovers.

Or mates.

A tremble of trepidation skated across her nerve endings as he led her back to the table where her friends waited.

The plans she and the team were discussing before his arrival would have to wait. Stygian was on the prowl and he’d found his prey. He wouldn’t be walking away anytime soon.

The problems inherent in such a decision on his part had her stomach tightening with dread. The team had already lost Isabelle due to her relationship with Malachi and her vow to never reveal what she had been a part of to anyone, especially a lover or husband outside the network.

The fact that Malachi was outside the network and not approved to be privy to that information had hurt them all. It was a decision no one on the team could make though, and permission had yet to be offered.

As they reached the table, Liza made her next decision quickly without taking the time to consider the repercussions of it.

“I’m going home,” she told them, feeling Stygian stiffen beside her.

Cullen, Steven, Reever and Klah all turned accusing stares on Stygian.

“Yeah, I think I’ll head back too.” Chelsea rose to her feet and pulled her purse from the floor. “Are you riding with me?” She looked up at Stygian with a grin. “Or with him?”

“You.” Jerking her light blazer from the back of her chair, she thanked God Chelsea had made her own quick decision.

“Then I guess I’m heading back too, because I came with them.” Claire joined them, moving from her chair and collecting her purse and light jacket. She too was dressed in the clothes she’d worn to work that morning: a light cotton blouse and slim, sedate skirt.

God was smiling on Liza.

“We’ll follow you home.” Steven nodded and the four men rose as well.

Beside her, she swore Stygian chuckled.

She was certain of it as his head lowered. “Very, very good,” he murmured at her ear. “You surprised me.”

It sounded as though he was rarely surprised.

“Good night, Mr. Black,” she said.

“Good night, Ms. Johnson.” Nodding, he stepped back and seconds later disappeared into the press of bodies as he made his way to the exit.

“This isn’t good,” Klah stated softly.

Liza glanced at the dark Navajo, seeing the nearly black eyes and the anger burning within.

Klah was their logistics and planning guru. There were times when his instincts were so strong that the other members of the team swore he was psychic.

“But perhaps not bad.” She shrugged. “He can’t know anything either way. He’s just—” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Just horny?” Chelsea suggested teasingly. “Honey, that Breed is damned interested and damned certain you’re just as hot for him.”

“She’s not,” Klah snapped as he and the other men surrounded them as they began moving for the exit themselves.

“Reever, take first watch on the girls’ house,” Cullen ordered, ignoring Klah’s exclamation. “Steven, you have second, and Klah will take third. I have duty the next three days, but I can pull members of the other teams in the area to cover them until this situation is resolved.”

“That could be why someone seems to be stalking us,” Liza suggested as they left the club. “Someone could be using the Breeds’ presence here to draw out as many members as possible and get information on the network rather than anything else.”

“That’s always possible,” Cullen agreed. “But I’d rather ensure your, Claire’s and Chelsea’s safety.”

“Don’t pull from the network,” Liza suggested. “We have enough friends who are members of the military or law enforcement who could fill in. I’d rather not risk the identities of the teams involved in relocation. We’re the only team not involved in that phase.”

And team members rarely had the identities of other team members. It was a safeguard, a precaution in case one was caught. Or in case a member became greedy and decided to sell information to the Genetics Council.

It had happened only once in all the decades of the Navajo Underground Network. But if it had happened once, it could happen again.

“We’ll see what we can do,” Cullen answered without giving an indication of whether he agreed or not.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her opinion, she told herself. She, Claire and Chelsea were junior members of the group, and in ways, still in training.

As they reached the car, Liza gave in to curiosity and glanced around the parking lot. She couldn’t see Stygian, but she was certain he was there. He wasn’t a man—a Breed—who would give up easily.

“All these hot and handsome Breeds are going to make me start wishing one would go nuts on me now.” Chelsea was laughing despite the declaration as she pulled her small sedan out onto the highway and headed back to Window Rock.

The night closed around them, and as Liza opened the passenger-side window, she couldn’t help but wish the wind was whipping around her as she rode behind Stygian on that motorcycle he had claimed to be riding.

And no doubt he had. He was big enough, strong enough, bold enough to risk life and limb on a hot desert night and a highway that could hold any number of surprises.

“Thank God it’s Friday.” Claire sighed wearily. “This hasn’t been a week I’d want to repeat.”

The planning and implementation of several assignments designed to draw in at least one of the shadows watching them had been an exercise in futility.

Until the morning Liza had taken her run, they had been certain they wouldn’t have to deal with the Bureau of Breed Affairs’s enforcers. Liza, along with the others, had been certain that capturing one of the forces tracking her would be a piece of cake.

Only they had watched that prized cake squashed into nothingness as Liza became immersed in a sensual battle with one of the most powerful Breeds. And he didn’t appear to be the sort to give up easily.

Or to do anything easily.

He would take her as he lived, she thought. Confidently, powerfully. He would hold her with those strong, broad hands, kiss her into senseless submission with lips that mesmerized her, and invade not just her body, but her heart as well.

“Did you hear me, Liza?” Chelsea complained as Liza fought to bring herself back from that place where Stygian’s arms enfolded her and his kiss heated her.

After all, she had been pretty cold lately, she thought wearily.

“No, I’m sorry, Chelsea, I was thinking of something else,” she answered her friend as she pushed back the images of her and Stygian together.

“Or someone else,” Chelsea smirked from the seat beside her. “That Breed, no doubt.”

“He’s arrogant,” Liza accused.

“He’s fucking hot.” Chelsea laughed.

“He’s too dominant,” Liza tried again.

“Yeah well, he could tie me to the bed and spank my ass any day he wants,” Chelsea proclaimed. “Damn, Liza, I know you’re not going to turn down that chance to have the most incredible sexual adventure of a lifetime. You know, Wolf Breeds’ cocks are supposed to be twice as thick as any human man’s. And you know what we’ve heard they do.”

“And Isabelle won’t say either way if her Coyote does that Coyote Breed thing when he comes,” Claire piped in. “Do you think their cocks really swell larger when they ejaculate, locking them inside a woman?”

“The fact that Isabelle refuses to say is a pretty good indication.” Chelsea sighed as though in anticipation. “No wonder they have such female groupies. I think I want to join the club.”

“Chelsea, you ignore the Breeds who do offer,” Claire pointed out as Liza felt her mouth go dry at the thought of being so exquisitely stretched and pleasured at the height of release.

“So do you,” Chelsea pointed out. “It’s not as though I’m the only one.”

“Then why are we telling Liza to take her Breed up on it?” Claire asked, clearly becoming more amused by the moment.

“Well, just because it beats me having to deal with those bossy creatures.” Chelsea laughed.

Grimacing, Liza watched the darkened scenery as they made their way to the outskirts of Window Rock, following Cullen’s Super Cab pickup as he rode with Reever. Klah and Steven rode behind them in Klah’s Land Rover.

Pulling into the driveway of the house, Liza restrained her sigh of relief before she and her housemates slid from the car. After Isabelle moved out to be with Malachi, their cousin Claire had decided to move in with them.

Of course, the men had to come in and check the house from one end to the other.

Liza wondered if they would do that for each other? She rather doubted it.

Actually, she knew they wouldn’t. Hell, someone had broken into Klah’s house the week the Breeds arrived and he hadn’t even called anyone until after he’d checked everything out himself.

But there was no telling them that she, Claire and Chelsea could take care of themselves. They refused to hear it.

Did they actually believe she would lie?

When the search was completed and their good-byes were said, the four men finally left.

As the door closed behind them, Liza locked it with a snap then turned, crossed her arms beneath her breasts once again and faced her still-silent friends.

“Well?” she demanded when they said nothing.

Claire moved into the living room and turned on the television. She increased the volume enough that once they moved into the kitchen, nothing they said could be heard over the din of the television.

“I didn’t say anything about this in the car, but don’t you remember what Isabelle said about mating while she was in the hospital?” Claire warned her somberly. “Did you let him kiss you while you two were on the dance floor?”

Liza’s gaze widened at the memory of what Isabelle had claimed a Breed’s kisses could do to a woman. “It had to be the drugs they had her on. Remember, she had a reaction to them?”

Isabelle had been half out of her mind from the pain after her near abduction by Holden Mayhew. Surely her warning that a Breed’s kiss was addictive and to watch out for mating had to be some far-fetched dementia caused by the drugs and amplified by her affection for her own Breed.

“Liza, she wasn’t joking,” Claire assured her, her gaze searching as she moved nearer.

Chelsea moved in just as close, listening in rapt attention.

“You can’t be sure of that, Claire.” Liza shook her head decisively. “There’s no proof.”

Claire swallowed tightly and spoke before Chelsea could. “Not proof, exactly. But remember when those Breed doctors arrived and took over her care?”

Liza nodded, as did Chelsea.

“I heard them talking when I slipped outside for some air. One of the doctors told the other that they didn’t like her reaction to the drugs while she was in mating heat and that the mating hormone was reacting strangely.”

Liza stared back at the other woman in disbelief.

“And you’re just now telling us this?” Chelsea hissed in disbelief. “Claire, how could you keep this from us? It’s been nearly a month. We could have kissed dozens of Breeds by now.”

Liza swung her head to the other girl, staring at her in surprise. “Dozens?” She blinked back at Chelsea uncertainly. “Sorry, girlfriend, I’m not exactly a teenager any longer. I don’t think I kissed that many boys even when I was a teenager. Hell, I haven’t kissed that many in my entire life.”

“I was being facetious.” Chelsea sighed. “You know what I meant.”

Claire bit her lip indecisively before drawing in a deep breath. “I thought I had to have misunderstood something, and I knew Malachi would never hurt her.” She lifted her hands in indecision. “But tonight, I knew I had to tell both of you when I saw how Liza was reacting to Mr. Black.” Her eyes widened a bit, the hazel depths filled with concern. “I’m still not certain I didn’t misunderstand something. I mean really, we were all in shock. And terrified. I could have misunderstood the entire conversation.”

Liza blew out a hard breath. “Wow,” she said in disbelief. “Those tabloid stories are true then.”

It was inconceivable. Yet no matter how much she wished she could brush away Claire’s information, she knew she couldn’t.

Isabelle’s reaction to Malachi Morgan had been much too intense to be considered normal, and Liza as well as Chelsea and Claire had known it.

But that was Claire. She kept to herself, and she kept others’ secrets very well. Her friends had always worried about that deep well of reserve she possessed and the quiet nature that often allowed others to run roughshod over her unless her friends put a stop to it.

“Damn, if those tabloid stories are true,” Chelsea hissed, “then it makes them like, fuck machines hyped on natural steroids.” She swallowed tightly, her expression almost glazed with wonder. “It would be like—”

“That’s enough, Chel.” Liza held her hand up quickly. “Enough with the adjectives, okay?”

The “fuck machine on steroids” was enough to make Liza’s body hum with amplified interest. She didn’t even need to hear anything more to assure her that allowing Stygian Black in her bed would definitely ruin her for any other man or Breed. For life. Period.

“But it’s only when they do that mating thing,” Claire reminded them. “That’s what the tabloids said, and from what those two doctors were saying, that’s true. Wolves only have one mate for life in the wild, right? It makes sense that Wolf Breeds would follow that course. Lions as well—”

“But Tigers, Coyotes and all those other wonderful species do not,” Chelsea assured her.

“Then it’s a quirk of nature or their creation.” Chelsea shrugged. “Whatever it is, it’s something they’re obviously desperate to hide, otherwise the Breed scientists would have leaked it to the world themselves long ago.”

“Maybe.” Liza sighed.

She was going to overheat for sure. Liza could feel her body burning like an inferno at the thought of having a man, hell, a Breed, who belonged to her and her alone.

“Talk about having a license to be an asshole.” Chelsea gave a low whistle as she stared back at Liza. “Hell, normal men are a pain in the ass. But one who knew you couldn’t ever allow another man to touch you? A relationship where there’s no threat of divorce? An addiction to their kiss that you can’t get rid of, no matter how pissed you are, how bloated you feel or how bad your head really doesn’t hurt?”

Whoa, talk about a splash of cold water.

“I don’t think so,” Liza informed them both. “Not in this lifetime.”

“How much is true and how much is made up?” Chelsea questioned in disbelief. “How much can you believe? Surely it can’t be so bad or Isabelle would have shot Malachi by now. She’s no wimpy little miss when it comes to defending herself.”

“Fifty-fifty maybe?” Claire suggested.

“No way,” Chelsea retorted, shaking her head as she unclipped the rich black strands of her hair from tortoiseshell clips. “I’m going to say at least seventy-five percent has to be pure fiction. That leaves twenty-five percent in their favor. The fuck machines with a kiss that’s like an aphrodisiac. I draw a line at addictive. Sorry, girls.” She shrugged carelessly. “It’s not going to happen for any man in this lifetime. It would be far too easy for them to simply rule us. God wouldn’t allow it. He does have a sense of humor, you know.”

Liza nodded slowly.

Chelsea had to be right.

There were always checks and balances.

No way would nature give Breed males such a one-up on either the Breed or human females they encountered.

“So do we mention any of this to Ashley and the others when they get here tomorrow?” Chelsea asked.

“God, no! They’re Breeds!” Liza stared back at her friend, wondering if she had somehow lost her mind. “I love them like crazy, Chelsea, but we don’t mention this to anyone. We keep it to ourselves.”

The four Breed females Ashley Truing, Emma Truing, Chimera Broussard and Shiloh Gage had been training the girls to be a part of the Navajo-based Breed Underground Network for the past six months.

The underground network was a group of Navajos that aided the Breeds who required complete anonymity and a secure refuge from the Genetics Council. The network aided them in hiding once they managed to escape their labs, sheltered them, provided medical aid and ensured they found a place to bury who and what they had once been.

“We could find a way to question them, perhaps,” Claire suggested. “See if they’ll just give us a little hint. All based on the tabloid stories, of course.”

Liza shook her head fiercely. “We can’t chance they would lie to us, or worse yet, have more loyalty to their own than they do to friendship. We keep this to ourselves and see what happens.”

“Does that mean you get to be the first guinea pig?” Chelsea wagged her brows suggestively. “You’ll give deets, right? Surely you wouldn’t torture us like Isabelle does? She doesn’t tell us anything.”

“Yeah, I look all furry and stupid.” Liza snorted. “It means we watch our asses and forget about kissing one of them. At least for the time being,” she amended. She couldn’t deny herself at least the possibility of being able to kiss Stygian.

At least at a later date.

The other two nodded.

“Malachi is supposed to be in meetings with Wyatt and the other Alphas in the next few days. We’ll be able to talk to Isabelle without Malachi around then,” Chelsea decided.

“Maybe.” Liza nibbled on her fingernail nervously. “We’ll have to see.”

To which Chelsea straightened her shoulders and stared back at them with a look that was totally her: pure determined stubbornness. “Oh, trust me, he will. I promise you.” She smiled wickedly. “I’ll simply shed a few tears for my big sister. Bet me she won’t run him off to find out what baby sister’s problem is.”

“Wicked.” Liza breathed out in anticipation.

“Dangerous,” Claire warned, despite her awe at Chelsea’s daring.

But they were in agreement.

For the moment, it was wait and see.

And definitely, keep each other in the loop. What one learned, they had to tell the other two.

It would be the only way to be certain.

Stepping beneath the water, she closed her eyes and, just as during that meeting with Jonas Wyatt, she was assaulted with the images from the pictures the director had shown her.

She saw their eyes, felt their pain, their fear. It would be hard not to. Those photos had been graphic in their detailed imagery of the children’s suffering.

Stepping back from the spray, she opened her eyes quickly, unwilling to see more.

Her parents had always told her she felt things too deeply, that she let things bother her too much. That vulnerability had caused her to get hurt more than once.

She’d never fallen in love though.

She was a virgin, and she had no idea what it felt like to want a man so totally and so completely that she was willing to give up her independence as well as her sense of self for him.

She wasn’t certain she could do it either. She’d spent far too many years holding herself aloof. She wasn’t certain if she could let go now and give herself to any man. And unfortunately, she wasn’t certain if she could give him her body without giving him her heart.

Even for a Breed who stared at her with black-blue eyes and an expression that assured her he held all the secrets of pleasure, and he was more than willing to share.

He was more than willing to show her all the sensual, dominant secrets she dreamed of, and all the fiery pleasure she ached for.

For a price.

Always for a price.

Nothing came for free, her mother had warned her.

There was always a price.

A price for laughing, for loving.

A price for living.

Now she wondered, exactly what was Stygian Black’s price?