Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

MEGAN

M egan's green eyes scanned the landscape as the plane touched down, her mind already on the next step. She needed to retrieve her belongings from the cabin she had been renting, but more importantly, she needed to report her findings to Agent Marcus Turner. Convincing Drake to let her go back alone was going to be the tricky part.

As they disembarked, Megan turned to Drake, mustering her most persuasive tone. "If we're really going to sell this whole fiancée thing…"

"There's nothing to ‘sell.' You are my fated mate; I have claimed you."

Megan shook her head. He was an arrogant bastard, but instead of annoying her, she was starting to find it a bit amusing. "Whatever. If we want people to believe we are mated, especially those outside the shifter community, I need to go back to the cabin I was renting and collect all my things. We don't want to answer any questions that may arise."

Drake's expression hardened slightly, his protective instincts clearly flaring. "I don't like the idea of you going there alone. It could be dangerous."

Megan placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'll be fine. It's just a quick trip. I've got a gun, and I know how to use it. Besides, you have other matters to attend to here, don't you?"

He hesitated, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deception. Finally, he nodded, though his reluctance was palpable. "Alright, but I'm going with you."

Megan suppressed a sigh. He was also possessive and protective, which she was beginning to find endearing. "Drake, please. I need to do this alone. I promise I'll be careful."

After a moment of tense silence, Drake relented, though his gaze remained sharp and unyielding. "Fine. But you call me the moment anything seems off. Understood?"

"Understood," she agreed, grateful for the concession.

Megan drove back to her rented cabin, the familiar route a soothing contrast to the chaos of the past few days. Once inside, she quickly gathered her belongings, but her mind was already on her real objective.

She pulled out her phone and dialed a number from memory.

"Agent Turner," came the brusque voice on the other end of the line.

"It's Megan," she said, keeping her voice professional. "I have some updates."

"Megan, where the hell have you been? We were starting to get worried."

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I ended up staying at Northern Lights for more than the event." She needed to give her boss a reason for her staying that he would believe and that wouldn't alert him to her status with Drake. "Drake McAllister doesn't think his father's car accident was an accident. I think he may be right. He's willing to open the Northern Lights' books as well as give me access to some ledgers his father was keeping, which seem in contrast to the official information. I've found something significant. I'm certain there's a smuggling operation tied to the bourbon auctions, and I have a way in."

"With McAllister? I find it difficult to believe a former SEAL commander would be knowingly involved."

"I don't believe he is," Megan assured him. "But when I was at the Northern Lights event, Michael O'Brien invited me to a private bourbon auction."

"Michael O'Brien?" Turner whistled in admiration. "That's quite a coup. We've been trying to get someone inserted, or at least listening devices planted, in that auction for a while, but O'Brien has kept a ruthless grip on the guest list. Go on; I'm listening," Turner said, his tone all business now.

"I'm convinced O'Brien is involved in all of this."

"Agreed."

"The auction would be the perfect opportunity to get an idea of who the other players might be and gather crucial and concrete evidence."

"And Drake?" Turner asked, his voice cautious. "What's his role in all this?"

Megan hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I believe if he's involved, it is unknowingly. Remember, he's only recently returned home. He can be an asset if we play this right."

"Megan, I need you to be completely honest. Are you compromised?"

She took a deep breath, the bond with Drake still fresh in her mind. "No. I can handle this. Going deeper undercover is our best shot."

Turner was silent for a moment, weighing Megan's words. "Alright. But you need to be careful. If things go south, get out of there immediately. Understood?"

"Understood," she echoed. "I'll keep you updated."

She ended the call and took a moment to compose herself. The risk was enormous, but so was the potential payoff. If she could gather enough evidence, the ATF could dismantle the smuggling operation and take down those behind it once and for all.

Gathering her belongings, Megan couldn't help but think of Drake. She was walking a fine line between her duty to the ATF and the burgeoning connection between her and Drake. Not so long ago, there had been a time when she had discarded the idea of ever having a mate. And now, although he hadn't obtained her consent to either claim or turn her, she was finding she liked the idea of spending eternity with Drake.

As she left the cabin, she steeled herself for the challenges ahead. The path was fraught with danger—both physical and emotional—but she was committed to forging ahead. She was ready to complete her objective, which had now become two-fold: take down the smuggling operation and help Drake find the answers to what had caused his father's death.

She made her way back to Northern Lights, each mile bringing her closer to Drake. The closer she got, the more strongly she could feel his comforting presence. She was greeted warmly by the men at the gate and shown through immediately. They told her, as a member of the clan, where she should park her SUV. When she parked and walked up to the main house, Drake stood on the porch waiting for her; his eyes immediately sought hers, a mix of relief and concern in his gaze.

Folding her into his arms, he rumbled, "I have missed you, my mate. Is everything okay?" He searched her face and reached down through the bonding link, looking for any signs of distress.

Megan nodded, offering a reassuring smile. "Yes, everything's fine. I got what I needed."

"Good," he said, though his eyes lingered on her as if trying to discern any hidden truths. "Let's get inside. It's cold out here."

Wrapping her arm around him, she quipped, "It's Alaska—cold is sort of a given for most of the year."

As they entered the house, Megan couldn't shake the feeling that the upcoming auction would be a turning point for her undercover operation, for her relationship with Drake, and for the truths they were both seeking. The stakes were higher than ever, but she was ready to face whatever came next.

Megan stood in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with a mixture of confidence, determination, and doubt. She smoothed down the elegant dress she had chosen for the high-stakes bourbon auction, its sleek lines and dark fabric making her look every bit the part she needed to play. Her mind, however, was a tempest of conflicting emotions.

She turned slightly, adjusting the fall of the dress over her hips, and caught a glimpse of Drake in the background. He was busy preparing, his movements sure and confident. The sight of him stirred something deep within her, something she had been trying to ignore since the claiming bite. A dragon and a snow leopard—it would never work. Their worlds were too different, their paths too divergent.

A sudden beep from her phone pulled her from her thoughts. It was a message from Winter Campbell, the beta and fated mate to Sean Campbell of the snow leopards in the Scottish Highlands. Winter had become a trusted confidante—someone Megan could turn to when the weight of her dual life became too much.

"Yo, girl, what's up? You've been on my mind, and rumor has it you're hanging out with dragons?" Winter's familiar Scottish brogue was a balm to Megan's frazzled nerves.

"You know, when you left Windsong and Colby's clan, I really thought you'd become isolated up in the Highlands.

"Yeah, Sean thought that as well," Winter laughed. "Seems you were both wrong. Seriously, Meg, I keep thinking about you and wondering if I should be more worried than usual."

Winter had been Megan's safety net for years. It wasn't that Megan didn't trust the ATF to have her back, but her training agent had cautioned her to always have a backup outside the agency. Someone who knew where she was and what she was working on, so if things went sideways, she would have a way out. Winter had been that safety net.

"This one's gotten a little dicey…"

"Dangerous? Do you need an extraction?"

Megan smiled. "I only wish it were that simple."

"The dragon lord?" Winter asked quietly.

"How the hell do you always know everything?"

"Because I'm not nearly as unconnected or isolated as Sean would like me to be."

Megan believed that. "You have, as usual, assessed the situation correctly. I'm preparing for this auction and closing in on shutting down the bourbon smuggling operation. All I can think about is Drake and how impossible this is. I can't be his fated mate." Winter groaned; Megan smiled. "I know, but a dragon and a snow leopard. Madness. It can't possibly work, can it?"

Winter chuckled softly. "I don't know about that. As arrogant as they can be, dragons are a seductive lot. I want you to keep in mind that it wasn't so long ago that anyone believed a woman could be beta to a clan—and yet I have been beta to two. Things are changing."

Megan sighed. "I know, but it's just so complicated. My duty to the case, my feelings for Drake..."

" Amor vincit omnia ," Winter said gently. "Love conquers all. You'll find a way through this, I'm sure of it. Trust yourself."

"Thank you, Winter," Megan said, feeling a bit lighter. "I needed that."

After ending the call, Megan took a deep breath and turned back to the mirror. The advice echoed in her mind, giving her a renewed sense of purpose. She could do this. She had to.

Drake appeared beside her, his eyes scanning her reflection in the mirror. "You look stunning," he said, his voice low and sincere as he dropped a kiss on her shoulder.

"Thank you," she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly under his gaze. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Drake chuckled, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. "High praise coming from you."

As they continued to prepare, the space between them seemed to shrink, the tension building with each passing moment. Megan reached for a necklace, her fingers fumbling with the clasp. Drake stepped closer, his hands brushing hers as he took over, fastening it with ease.

"There," he murmured, his breath warm against her neck. "Perfect."

She turned to face him, their proximity sending a shiver down her spine. "Drake, about tonight..."

He placed a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "We'll be fine. Just stay close to me."

The intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch all combined to create a moment that felt charged with possibility. For a heartbeat, Megan allowed herself to get lost in it, to forget the complications, and just feel.

But she quickly shook herself free, stepping back and breaking the spell. "It's just the moment," she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "It doesn't mean anything."

Drake's eyes darkened, but he nodded, respecting her need to keep her distance. "I'll let that pass for now. Let's focus on the task at hand."

Together, they made their way to the auction, the tension between them palpable. Megan kept her mind on the operation, but the warmth of Drake's presence was a constant distraction and comfort. As they entered the grand hall where the gala event was to be held, she took a deep breath, ready to face whatever the night had in store.

She knew the stakes were high, not just for the case but for her heart. And while she tried to convince herself that the moment in front of the mirror had meant nothing, a part of her knew it wasn't the truth. Their bond was real, and it was growing stronger with each passing day.

But tonight, she had to stay focused. Duty came first., didn't it? It was a question she feared she would have to answer, and she wasn't sure how she would answer it.