“Get me to the fucking truck, Az. Now.” He couldn’t bite back the groan as Azrael half-carried him to his truck and leant him against the cab. “Can you get my clothes?”

  Azrael gave a sharp nod, clearly disapproving but did as Zane asked. He brought the jeans and underwear over first, and to Zane’s mortification, Az had to help him put them on.

  Zane fumbled with the door handle, finally managing to get it open as Azrael handed him the remainder of his clothes. He was too weak to protest when the man helped him into his truck, but he did stop Azrael from buckling him in. There was no way his ribs were going to be able to handle it.

  “Zane…” The concern in Azrael’s amber eyes brought a flicker of warmth to Zane’s battered heart. “Not everyone here feels like they do.”

  Zane hardly thought having one person on his side made a difference, even if that person was Az. He studied the man closely, unsure if they would ever see each other again and wanting to be certain to memorise the face of the only person he could call friend.

  “I’m appointing you alpha.” It was the one right thing he could do. An alpha could appoint a leader, as Zane’s uncle had done for him, or an alpha could come into the position as the three traitors had just tried to do. Although, usually, it was done in a much more honourable manner.

  “You can’t, I can’t…” Azrael looked completely stumped.

  “I can, I did, and you’re it.” Zane started to take a deep breath, but cut it short when pain nearly doubled him over. Panic overtook the pain at Azrael’s next words.

  “The Dux Ducis will be here soon; we’ll let him decide.”

  No fucking way! Zane’s heart raced for a minute before he realised what an idiot he was. Whatever Aidan Criswell’s reason for coming, it wasn’t for Zane—unless it was to relieve him of his position. Zane wouldn’t blame him one bit, but he had already handled the situation himself. Now it was time to leave. I’m not running again. I’m just following my plan and taking care of my pack. And he would keep telling himself that with every mile he put between them.

  “I’ve already decided, Azrael. I’m done. Now let me shut the damned door so I can leave.” Zane glared at Azrael until the man stepped back from the open door. He started to slam the door shut, but Azrael caught the edge in his hand.

  “Wait. Zane…” Azrael suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “I’m not good with this, this…mushy stuff. But you’ve been a good friend and, despite what you think, a good leader.”

  Zane started to shake his head, caught himself before he could make the dry-heave inducing move. “No. Az, let it go. You’ve got my number; you can call me if you need to.” Or if you want to. Zane wouldn’t say it out loud. He didn’t want to burden Az with his friendship, and having one of his own guards turn on him had just taught Zane a harsh lesson about taking anything for granted.

  “All right, but I think you’re wrong.” Azrael let go of the door.

  “No, I’m not. Trust me in that, Az.” Zane slammed the door and put on his sunglasses before starting the truck. He put the truck in gear and turned around, not daring to look at his friend, even in the rearview mirror, as he drove off pack property.

  * * * *

  Aidan treated the speed limit as a suggestion rather than a law as he sped down the highway. Jordan and Evan sat silently in the back seat while Mariska occupied the front passenger seat. He was aware that the tension roiling through him was encompassing his guards. The silence in the truck was oppressive rather than companionable. Aidan couldn’t take the time out from his frenzied thoughts to concentrate or worry about it.

  Mariska’s cell phone rang, a quick chirp she quickly cut off by answering. Aidan ignored the buzzing sound of her voice as he tried again and again to reach Zane with their mind link. He had debated whether or not he should even try, but the need to know that the alpha was alive, and hopefully unharmed, overrode Aidan’s reticence to reach out to his mate.

  “It seems that your mate appointed Azrael DeLuna pack alpha and resigned his position.” Mariska’s voice was neutral, but when Aidan glanced at her, he thought he saw a flash of disapproval in her eyes.

  “And you have a problem with that why, exactly? You didn’t seem thrilled with the idea that Mitchell was my mate.” Aidan’s fingers tightened on the wheel. The bond between mates was already growing inside him, kicking his protective instincts into overdrive, whereas the day before he had been thinking the best thing to do was walk away.

  Mariska snorted. “I never said anything about Zane Mitchell’s suitability to be your mate—though right now, I am questioning yours.”

  “Uhm, Mariska—” Evan, always the peacekeeper in the group, leant forward. Aidan shut him down.

  “Stay out of this, Evan. This is between me and my captain.” Aidan looked at Mariska again, letting her see the temper burning in his gaze. “Explain yourself, now.”

  Refusing to be intimidated, Mariska shrugged. “He’s your mate. Whether either of you want to accept it, you two are destined for one another.” She shook her head again, voice dripping with disgust. “And you just let him go. We’ve always been taught, and it has always proven true, that mates are perfectly suited. That being the case, Zane Mitchell can’t be a bigot; there has to be a rational explanation for his past behaviour.” Mariska narrowed her eyes at him. “Tell me this, would you be going after him even now if he wasn’t in serious danger?”

  Would he? Despite the anger he felt at Mariska’s chastisement, Aidan rolled the question around in his mind. Would he have came to his senses as his brother had encouraged—okay, damn near ordered him to do? He knew himself to be a patient and understanding man, and his own sexuality had helped him to be less judgmental than most. Yet all of those things had ceased to exist in this case…the minute his mate had rushed out the door. And that was really the root of his anger, Aidan realised. He’d been hurt and had wanted to lash out, the sting of rejection at his mate’s hands causing a tidal wave of fury to break free. Damn.

  But he had been thinking about what Marcus said.

  “I don’t know, Mariska. But,” Aidan stressed the word when his captain opened her mouth to argue, “I would have come for him soon, that much I can promise you.”

  He could feel Mariska studying him and almost smiled when she scented the air, using all her senses to discern the truth of his words.

  Apparently as satisfied as she was going to get, Mariska nodded at him and released him from her penetrating gaze.

  “Then I should tell you that Mitchell was stopped entering pack territory by three challengers.” Again, that neutral voice, except this time Aidan picked something up in it that had the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

  “And?”

  “He somehow managed to text Azrael, then got out of his truck and proceeded to take on Rance Atkins, Kent Studdard, and one of his guard, Jared Byerly. “

  “Damn it!” If Zane’s own guards were turning on him, things within the pack must be worse than Marcus had suspected. And three to one? Aidan realised he had the gas pedal pushed all the way down and lifted his foot a scant half inch.

  “Azrael said he was injured, severely enough that he should have received immediate medical attention.” Mariska turned to Aidan again, her voice softening as if to ease the panic her words brought on.

  Aidan’s blood ran cold. “How fucking bad, Mariska?” The three men had better hope Zane survived, because if he didn’t, Aidan knew with a sudden certainty that he would tear them apart, one by one. Brother to the Alpha Anax, Dux Ducis or not, he would do it.

  “Aidan.” Mariska reached out and placed a hand on his arm. The touch did nothing for him. The anger he felt was a living thing, the likes of which he had never felt before.

  “How. Fucking. Bad.” Aidan gritted the words out, battling to hold back his temper.

  “I only know what Azrael said he saw. Bruising on the right side of Zane’s rib cage, what he thought was a… a boot imprint—”

  Aidan’s muscles started to contort, his anger making it nearly impossible for him to prevent shifting.

  “Aidan! Stop!”

  Mariska reached for the wheel as two pairs of hands reached from the back seat and held Aidan fast against his seat.

  He managed to shove the change back down, snarling and cursing as he did so. He braked hard, jerking the wheel to steer the truck onto the shoulder of the road, knocking Mariska’s hands aside as he did so.

  Slamming the truck in park with enough force to nearly crack the gearshift, Aidan turned and faced Mariska.

  “What else, Mariska?”

  In a move completely unlike her, Mariska lowered her eyes and stared at the seat. Whether it was a sign of submission or an attempt to hide the pity in her eyes, Aidan didn’t know or care.

  “Mitchell—” she began.

  “Zane,” Aidan snapped, unwilling to allow any of them to continue making this impersonal, making Zane impersonal. “His name is Zane.”

  “Yes, Dux Ducis Criswell.” This time when she used his title, he could hear the respect instead of the mocking tone Mariska normally used. “Zane had a shoulder wound—a deep bite on the left shoulder…” Where Aidan had no doubt one of the three men had tried to pin him. “As well as bruising on his forehead and around his eyes. He was also reluctant to move his right arm, though he did have use of it.”

  “Christ! And is that all?” Aidan had to find Zane, now. If he had to batter his way through the man’s mental barrier to do it, so be it. “Any idea where he is headed?” It would make it easier to know, but Aidan could track his mate regardless. He would just prefer to find the man alive.

  Mariska looked at him with sympathy, not pity, shining in her eyes. “Azrael thinks Zane is trying to fix the things he, ah…”

  Evan leant over the front seat, almost vibrating with excitement. “If he is trying to right wrongs—so to speak,” he clarified at Aidan’s sharp look. “What would be the biggest one he felt he had made so far, do you think?”

  The hope that sprung up had Aidan’s lips quirking up in a smile. Of course.

  “Mariska, you drive.” No sense risking an accident if he lost it again. Aidan got out of the truck and jogged around the hood, passing Mariska as he went. He slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Turning to look over the seat, he pointed at Jordan. “You.”

  Jordan sat up straighter. “Yes, Dux Du—”

  “Get on the phone with Marcus and fill him in. Get me a number and address for Mika Blackwell and Gabriel Staley.”

  “Yes, Dux Duc—“

  Aidan spun back around, facing Mariska as she fired the truck up. “And you…” He dropped his hand to his lap before he pointed at her, warned by the flash of irritation in her eyes. “Ah, turn this truck around, we need the exit a few miles back. We’re going to Shasta, Texas.”

  Chapter Four

  “Yeah, Mika, harder!” Gabe’s back bowed as he pushed his ass into Mika’s pounding thrusts. His hands twisted the sheets and his knees dug into the mattress as rough hands gripped his hips, keeping him from slamming into the headboard. It had been over a year, and the sex had only gotten better as their bond strengthened each day.

  Shit, Gabe thought if it got any better it was going to kill him. Pleasure didn’t spread out in little pin pricks; it exploded inside him and consumed him as Mika continued to hammer away at his ass.

  “Gabe…fuck! Gonna.” Mika bent over Gabe, hips driving his thick cock in short, sharp bursts that had Gabe whimpering. He tried to reach for his cock, felt Mika’s chest press to his back and the pleasure-pain of Mika’s teeth sinking into the place where his neck and shoulder met.

  “Gahhh!” Coherent as usual when his orgasm hit, Gabe’s eyes rolled back as warm come hit his chest and God only knew where else. Only Mika could do this to him, make him come without every laying a hand on his dick. Mika’s growl vibrated from the place he held between his teeth, spreading throughout Gabe’s body as his inner muscles clenched tight, forcing Mika to hold still deep inside him.

  “Fu…fu…fu…” Mika panted, pulling his mouth away from Gabe’s skin as his body tensed and a tremor worked him over. “Uck!”

  Mika’s cock jerked, pulsing as searing jets of spunk spewed in his ass, marking him as Mika’s mate. As if he needed marking again. Not a day went by where he wasn’t filled one way or another with Mika’s come. Unless he was wearing it. Then there was the always-present proof at the base of Gabe’s shoulder and neck.

  Gabe’s legs shot out from under him as Mika collapsed on top of him. No doubt he had fucked himself senseless. Gabe couldn’t hide his smug feeling, but he couldn’t breathe very well, either.

  “Get up, caveman!” The words came out garbled as Gabe’s face was mashed into his pillow. Mika grunted and didn’t budge.

  All right, then. Evil grin in place, Gabe flung an elbow up and caught Mika in the ribs. “Get off me, caveman; I’d like some air, too!” Satisfaction poured through Gabe as Mika’s breath exited his lungs with a whooshing sound. Music to his ears, Gabe snickered.

  Mika wheezed and rolled over to the side, one hand on his battered ribs. “One of these days, babe…”

  Gabe propped himself up on an elbow and eyed his mate. “One of these days, what? You’re gonna manage to dodge?”

  Mika snorted. “It’s your fault, you know. I’m pretty sure that tight ass of yours melted my brain for a few minutes there.” He waggled his eyebrows at Gabe.

  Gabe loved the man like crazy, but there wasn’t a chance that he was going to pass up this opportunity. “Yeah?” He gave Mika the sweetest smile he could—which had the opposite of his desired effect. Mika looked at him suspiciously and scooted away a few inches.

  “So what’s the excuse for the other twenty-three hours and fifty-seven minutes of the day?”

  “You—”

  Laughter erupted between them as Mika dove at Gabe, flipping him onto his stomach and straddling the backs of Gabe’s thighs.

  “I think you need to learn to respect your mate, babe.” Mika’s big hands glided over Gabe’s ass cheeks. Gabe hummed his approval—until one hand lifted and came back down in a stinging little slap on his butt. His cock twitched and his hole clenched, but he was not going to admit any of that to his mate, no way in hell!

  “I can scent your arousal, babe.” The words were filled with laughter in Gabe’s head, as well as a liberal dose of horniness.

  “Yeah, well, maybe it wasn’t the spanking that turned me on, maybe it was—”

  Smack.

  Oh, fuck, he was so busted! Gabe moaned and grabbed onto the headboard as he ground his cock against the mattress. Looked like Mika had just stumbled onto one of his secret fantasies.

  But he would not be thanking his man and asking for another. Hopefully.

  “Looks like, or smells like, rather, that it was the spanking,” Mika purred, gently massaging the stinging skin.

  Mika’s hand lifted again and Gabe heard his mate groan. “God, Gabe, you have no idea how pretty your ass looks right now.”

  Gabe twisted his head around, trying to get a peek. He caught a glimpse of flaming red skin then got distracted by something he considered rather pretty himself—Mika’s huge prick.

  He was just about to point out how much he really liked the view when he saw Mika stiffen, head tipping back slightly. Mika’s nostrils flared as he scented the air. Searching for what, Gabe had no idea.

  Gabe figured that if he did find out what it was, he was damn sure going to kill it or beat or something, because whatever it was, it had Mika sliding off of him and reaching for his sweats.

  Gabe rolled over and winced when his freshly spanked cheek met the quilted blanket.

  “Mika, what’s going on?” Gabe scooted off the bed and stood. He reached for his jeans, thought about the rough denim against his flaming ass. Tossing the jeans aside, he hurried over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweats as well.

  “Mika?” Gabe stared in confusion as Mika pulled on his sweats.

  “Someone’s here, and I think… Wait here.” Mika jerked the bedroom door open and left Gabe standing there.

  “Oh I don’t fucking think so!” Gabe stepped into his sweats and hauled ass after his mate. “Mika! Don’t you dare think you can order me around like some… some whatever. Just because I let you smack my ass—“

  “Gabe—” Mika swung around as Gabe ran up, almost toppling them both as he tried to skid to a stop.

  Iko started barking, toenails scrabbling on the floor as the big puppy ran for the front door. A ridge of hair stood up along his back and his ears were laid flat. Gabe had never seen their baby act like that before.

  An uneven pounding on the front door sent Iko into a frenzy and got Mika and Gabe into gear again. Gabe grabbed Mika’s arm when his mate would have raced to the door. He held on, waiting until Mika’s whisky brown gaze met his.

  “Stronger together, remember?” They’d had this conversation before, when Gabe had went with Mika to confront his former alpha.

  Mika’s lips twisted in an ironic smile. “Funny you should say that. Guess who is at the door?”

  Gabe goggled—he’d always wondered what that word meant; now he was pretty sure he knew. Zane was on their front porch, banging on the door? What the—

  “Get out of my way, Mika, I’m going to tell that asshole what he can do with his surprise visit!” Gabe tried to push Mika behind him, but his mate was bigger and stronger. Damn it! He had thought they had made an uneasy sort of peace with the alpha, but if Zane was showing up here, it couldn’t be for anything good. Gabe was not going to let the man hurt Mika again. He pushed at Mika once more to no avail. Instead, Mika grabbed Gabe’s upper arms and held him still.

  “I smell blood, Gabe. Too much. Let me get the door.” The concern in Mika’s warm brown eyes was Gabe’s undoing. He nodded.