Rage & Killian (17 page)

Raphael and Parish stood before her. The judgment police. Giving her the stink eye and a formal good-bye. After, of course, a thorough dressing down about the many ways she’d screwed up in the past couple of days.

“What if he’d taken off?” Parish demanded, his gold eyes furious. “We don’t know what he’s capable of. What if he can shift outside of the Wildlands? What if he’d gotten hurt? Or hurt a human?”

“I wouldn’t have let that happen.” Even as she said the words, she knew they were useless.

“You’re reckless,” Parish said.

“And arrogant,” Raphael finished.

“Better than angry,” she tossed back. “Or miserable or guilty or bitter.”

Neither male said a word to that. Just stared at her. Clearly, it wasn’t the reply they’d expected. For the twenty-four/seven puma female to realize—no, to admit that she’d been anything but
fine
over the past several months.

She took a deep breath, looked to her right at the beautiful Wildlands, her home since she knew what home was. Killian was in there, somewhere, probably back at the clinic, recovering from the tranquilizer dart Parish had shot him with. Bastard. Forget about her cat’s insane reaction, she’d nearly lost her mind when the leader of the Hunter’s had done that.

She felt their eyes on her. Waiting. Needing an explanation. Her heart squeezed painfully. “When Mercier was killed,” she started, almost as if she was speaking to herself, “I truly thought I’d never feel hopeful again. Maybe because I didn’t think I deserved to feel it. Not when he couldn’t. But now I know that kind of thinking doesn’t honor his memory at all. It defiles it.” She turned back to face the two males who held her future, at least in the Wildlands, in their hands. “I know what I did was wrong. For you, Raphael, according to the rules and the promises I made, I wouldn’t blame you…”

“Rules are there for a reason, Hunter,” Parish said tightly, though his eyes weren’t nearly as hostile as they were a moment ago. “We can’t function as a society without them.”

“I get that,” she said. “But this time, this rule breaking, it wasn’t wrong for me or for Killian. It saved us both, I think. I don’t regret it.”

“Oh, shit,” Parish ground out.

“I’m prepared to go,” Rosalie continued, her chin lifted proudly, though inside she was wilting. “Not into the regular world, of course. I couldn’t stand that for long.”

“Then where?” Raphael asked, his expression thick with concern.

“Hiss and his mate are in the Wetlands. I’m hoping I’ll be welcome there.”

The scent of him came seconds before the voice.

Killian.

He came through the brush with two Hunters, Ice and Keira, Parish’s twin sister. He was all male, not a prisoner or a tagalong. He was flanked by both Hunters, as if he was one of them. A smile came to Rosalie’s lips as pride touched her heart. He looked so right with them.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, though his blue shark eyes were trained on Raphael.

“This is between us and Rosalie,” the leader of the Pantera told him with an edge.

The once human man, who seemed utterly and completely Pantera now, shook his head. “She’s not leaving the Wildlands, Raphael.”

“That’s not for you to say,” the male told him.

“You offered me a home here,” Killian countered, stepping forward, coming to stand beside Rosalie.

“Yes.”

“And if I wanted to take a mate, she would also be welcome here.”

“Of course, but—”

“Well, I took one.”

Rosalie’s growl broke over the border, and she turned on Killian and snarled out her demand, “Who. Did. You. Mate?”

He stared into her eyes and grinned. Wide. Rosalie bristled, and her cat backed down. Unbelievable. Not only wasn’t he afraid of her wrath, claws, puma, or fangs—he was turned on.

She could scent it.

Her lip curled.

Males.

“Answer me, Human,” she hissed, pressing up against him. Oh yeah, definitely turned on.

He licked his lower lip and a rumble sounded in his chest. “Goddamn, I love it when you call me Human,” he said. “Don’t think my cat does though.”

“Who did you mate, damn you?” she nearly cried.

The smile on his face and his eyes died. He looked at her like she was crazy. “Jesus, Hunter. It’s you, for fuck’s sake. You’re my mate.”

She must’ve gone both pale and blank because Keira and Ice started laughing. She turned on them and snarled. Which only made them laugh harder.

“Fuck the both of you,” she spat. “And you.” She turned back to address Killian. “I never gave myself to you.” She lifted her chin, trying to act all cool and haughty, when secretly, relief and happiness were pouring through her. Such a phony.

Killian cocked one eyebrow and said in a voice for all to hear. “You want me to go over the many ways you gave yourself to me? Now, I don’t give a shit if these four hear it, but you might.” He grinned wickedly, and those blue eyes flashed. “I’m going to be very detailed, Kitten.”

Her body responded instantly, erupting into flame, and she leapt at him—wrapped her arms around his neck. Her heart pounding with the wondrous rhythm of new love, she kissed him. Hungrily. Desperately. Hopefully. When she pulled back, she eyed him and growled against his wet lips, “Ask me, Killian.”

He knew exactly what she meant, what she wanted. His hold on her tightened. “Be my mate, Rosalie?”

She smiled back. “All right.”

“And my home?”

“Sure.”

“And my heart?”

“Okay.”

“And my partner in all things Pantera?” His expression downgraded to grim. “If there’s one of me, the super solider, then there are more.”

She nodded solemnly. “I’m with you. All the way. By your side.”

His eyes warmed with the kind of happiness that only came from feeling understood and cared for.

“Us too,” Keira called out. “It’s about time we went on another field trip.”

“Fuck yeah,” Ice agreed.

But Killian and Rosalie weren’t listening. Killian had pulled her even tighter to him, and was uttering against her mouth, “And you’ll help me figure out the shifting thing? How to control—”

Rosalie shut him up with a hard, hungry kiss. She was his and he was hers. And all she wanted in that moment was to revel in the beauty of forgiveness, and letting go of fear and guilt. Her hands drove into his hair, and he growled and sucked on her tongue. At some point, she ripped her mouth away from his to tell the four suddenly silent Pantera to go away—that they could kick her ass out later.

Parish grumbled of course. And Raphael said in his most authoritative tone, “We’ll have a strategy session tomorrow at noon. And I
will
see you both there.” But they left.

Because really, no one messes with a Pantera female in love.

Except maybe the male, the mate, who loves her in return.

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Ares Security Book 1

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From the hellhole of a Taliban prison to sweet freedom, five brave military heroes have made it home—and they’re ready to take on the civilian missions no one else can. Individually they’re intimidating. Together they’re invincible. They’re the men of ARES Security.

Rafe Vargas is only in Newton, Iowa, to clear out his late grandfather’s small house. As the covert ops specialist for ARES Security, he’s eager to get back to his new life in Texas. But when he crosses paths with Annie White, a haunted beauty with skeletons in her closet, he can’t just walk away—not when she’s clearly in danger…

There’s a mysterious serial killer on the loose with a link to Annie’s dark past. And the closer he gets, the deeper Rafe’s instinct to protect kicks in. But even with his considerable skill, Annie’s courage, and his ARES buddies behind him, the slaying won’t stop. Now it’s only a matter of time before Annie’s next—unless they can unravel a history of deadly lies that won’t be buried.

* * * *

Friday nights in Houston meant crowded bars, loud music and ice-cold beer. It was a tradition that Rafe and his friends had quickly adapted to suit their own tastes when they moved to Texas five months ago.