Rule Breaker(216)

            He could feel each instinct as though it were an alternate personality, sharing with him the irritation and restlessness burning inside it.

            He’d never bothered to ask other Breeds if they could sense their animal in such a way. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d get the answer he wanted to hear, and in this case, he wasn’t sure he wanted to accept any other answer.

            Intelligent. Cunning. Sometimes enraged. Always restless.

            Where Gypsy was concerned, just damned pissed and eager to get back to her.

            The animal was ready to pace at this point, or fight. A fight would feel damned good. Fists bunched and slamming into flesh, enraged roars echoing around him.

            Hell. The fight would just alleviate the burning aggravation of being locked out of his mate’s senses. How the fuck had she managed to do that anyway?

            Rubbing his tongue against his teeth to ease the irritation in the small, swollen glands, Rule grimaced as he realized he was only torturing himself. After all, each time the glands were stroked, more of the mating hormone spilled.

            Hormonal Mating Glands.

            He wanted to snort at the title as he slouched back in his seat once again and lifted the beer in front of him to his lips. Tilting the bottle, he relished the chill bite of bitterness as it raced over his taste buds, wishing its effects would sedate the animal that suddenly wanted to snarl in displeasure.

            What the hell do you think you want? he thought with a snap of anger, wondering at his own sanity as he attempted to push back the irritated presence.

            A growl rumbled in his chest, bringing an immediate scowl to his face as he glared into the dimly lit bar he’d entered about four beers ago.

            Go back to sleep, why don’tcha? he ordered the creature. That’s what you fucking get for playing “Jonas” games with me for nine fucking years.

            Manipulating, calculating sons of bitches. It bit his ass to imagine a creature smart enough to fucking hide what it was doing in his subconscious from him. As though the animal genetics were separate. What the fuck was up with that?

            He looked at the beer. How many had he had again?

            One too many, he was starting to believe.

            Another rumble burred just beneath his breath.

            A sound of irritation and impatience.

            Shut the fuck up before I go hunt those pills Merc took so he wouldn’t have to deal with this shit!

            For years, Mercury Warrant, one of their most primal Lion Breeds, had been forced to take daily medication to hold back the last phase of Breed insanity known as feral fever.

            Those drugs had kept his animal instincts in check in such a way that it was like putting the animal inside him into a deep, cold sleep.

            He almost gave a rather insane bark of laughter as the highly advanced Lion genetics suddenly stilled as though surprised by the threat. He had the sudden, vague impression of the animal lurking inside him sitting back on its haunches and glaring at him uncertainly, as though debating whether he would actually carry out the threat.

            “There you go,” he gritted out, taking another lengthy drink of the cold beer before breathing out heavily.

            The reaction might be a little too weird to suit him, but at least the beast seemed willing to sit back rather than aggravate the shit out of him.

            Hell, he shouldn’t be here drinking. He should be with his mate. Touching her. Loving her. Doing as he’d intended and whispering his love to her, giving her the chance to realize that was what she felt for him as well.

            He knew she did. He’d felt it on the way back to the hotel earlier that night. Like a pulse of heat she’d lost control of, burning through his heart, his soul, for the slightest second.