What would I do, exactly?
No fucking clue.
Maybe track down my birth parents, if they lived, and ask some pointed questions, maybe learn more about what the heck I was, maybe find a new job, or maybe work on being a better person, healing all the hurt I buried deep inside.
Whoa. Where’d that come from? Back up.
“Did you find anything?” Wick asked.
Glad he interrupted my mental life planning before I cried and called the SRD shrink, I rolled over on to my side and stared up at him. “Besides my handler being dead? No.”
“Dead! Why didn’t you say something sooner? Like an hour ago when you came back.”
“Do you know who killed him?”
Wick exhaled slowly and perched on the corner of my bed. He shook his head.
“Then telling you didn’t help, did it?”
“Andy.” Wick’s tone was a reprimand. “You should let me help you.”
“No offense, but you’re Lucien’s lapdog. Conflict of interest.”
“My interest is to help you.” His voice sounded calm, but emotion flashed across his face, too quick to catch.
“You smelled happy when Lucien claimed me. I don’t trust you.” I got up and stalked out of the room.
A firm grip on my arm stopped me. Before I could break free, Wick reached over and grabbed my other arm. Pulling me back into his body, he breathed into my ear. “I was upset Lucien claimed you. I do not like the idea of any man’s mark on or in you. But, you are right, I was also happy, because it meant you are staying.” His lips brushed my ear, sending a tingle down my body. “Here. With me.” His lean muscles pressed against me and any thoughts about my current predicament flew from my mind. I was thinking about something else entirely now.
I shook my head to clear the pornographic images—Wick tearing off my clothes, me raking my nails down his hot sweaty back, his hips pumping. I shook my head again. “Tracker or no tracker. I will not be trapped like a caged animal.” I pulled my arms out of Wick’s grip and walked away.
And stopped abruptly when I walked into the living room.
“Andy!” A familiar woman’s voice bounced off the walls. Looking over, I met Mel’s piercing blue eyes.
The painful memory that haunted me every night slammed into my brain and froze me on the spot.
Sweat and fear mixed with the acrid scent of blood, rolled off the pack women huddled in the corner of the room. Naked. Hair plastered to their heads. Waiting for their turn. They avoided eye contact to save me further humiliation, except one. My friend Mel mouthed our mantra, “Survive.”
Dylan’s hot breath seared my neck as he pinned my arms over my head and forced my bruised thighs apart with his knee. “Andrea McNeilly, you are mine.”
Anger. Hot, searing, molten rage. And hatred. Long repressed, it rose fast and furious, twisting and tangling with something else inside me. Something feral. Something fierce.
Power rippled through my skin. My eyes snapped open, burning with dark energy. My face turned to the side. I met the desperation and fear in Mel’s gaze.
The final trigger.
My body shifted. Transitioning into a monster caged deep within me.
And then all hell broke loose.
“Andy?” Melissa cocked her head.
Paralyzed as the memory faded, I stared at the blonde beauty. I’d not seen Mel since I escaped Dylan’s pack. Not since I broke his alpha control and destroyed half the males in the process. Mel had been in a forced union as well—with David. I’d torn his guts out.
My eyelids squeezed shut on the bloody images the memories brought up. That night, something more than my mountain lion, wolf and falcon combined—a beast—had risen from within, answering my desperate call and it went wild—uncontrollable.
It took years of surviving as a mountain lion in the wilderness before a sane woman could walk out of the forest.
Two arms wrapped around my body as Mel enveloped me in a hug, her blonde hair fluttering in my face. She smelled of apple blossoms, her favorite shampoo. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’ve missed you so much.” She squeezed me hard before pulling back. “I owe you so much.”
A wave of hot and cold pinpricks surged against my spine, ran up my neck, crashed against my brain and settled behind my eyes. I blinked. And realized Mel waited for a response.
“Um…” came my intelligent response. Mel’s lips trembled and I tried to ignore the tears streaming down her face. Too much of a possibility they’d start running down mine any minute.
“Mel?” a low baritone spoke behind her. “Do you know her?”
Mel turned around to reveal a nice looking Hispanic man. “Dan, this is Andy.” She turned her megawatt smile on me. “Andy, this is my mate, Dan.” She leaned in. “My true mate.”