CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

You and your cat are worth the risk.

Framing her face with his hands, Tate pulled her closer and pressed his forehead to hers. “Baby.” Fuck, she was killing him. Killing him.

He lowered his mouth to hers, intending to only feather his lips against her own in a soft, barely-there kiss. But the moment their lips met, his entire system seemed to jolt. A shudder went through him, and there was no way to stop himself from taking that mouth he’d missed.

He swept his tongue inside and groaned. God,that fucking taste. It had always acted as his own personal aphrodisiac, just like her scent … and now he knew why.

Tate growled low in his throat and kissed her harder. They both caught fire in an instant. Greedy and frantic, they moaned, clutched, squeezed, grinded.

The drugging scent of her need fueled the fire that blazed within him and all but inebriated his cat. Naked. Tate needed her naked. Needed her wet and ready to take him, because he had to be inside her.

He whipped off her tank with a snarl. “The bra. Take it off.” Fisting the back of his tee, he yanked it over his head and tossed it on the floor. He let her stand long enough to shove down her panties and yoga pants. Then he yanked her back on his lap and once again ravaged her mouth.

This wasn’t about battling for dominance. This wasn’t a pitting of wills. This was about sealing a deal while reconnecting on the most basic level.

Banding his arm around her, he lifted her onto her knees and slid one finger inside her. Hot and slick, those tight inner muscles squeezed his finger. “Ride it.”

Ignoring how her pussy contracted at the sheer authority in his voice, Havana fucked herself on his finger, not possessing a single qualm about taking exactly what she needed. The whole time, he whispered encouragements and left suckling little kisses all over her neck. And when he curved that thick finger just right, she almost burst out of her skin.

With a desperate moan, she dropped her hands to his waist and snapped open his fly, letting his rock-hard dick bound free. “Want you in me.”

He didn’t make her wait. He lifted her, positioned her just right, and planted her on his cock.

She froze, her breath catching in her throat with the pleasure/pain of being abruptly stuffed full. “Holy shit,” she rasped.

His eyes glittering, he raised her again and then roughly impaled her on his dick once more. “Fuck me, baby.” He hissed as she began to ride him hard. “Yeah, that’s it, use my cock to get yourself off.”

It wouldn’t take long for her to come. A delicious tension was already coiling low in her stomach, making her desperate for more, rougher, faster.

Tate growled as she started slamming herself even harder on his dick. He filled his hands with her breasts, wanting to feel the round, firm mounds bounce in his grip. She really did have phenomenal tits. He wanted to bite them. Fuck them. Come all over them.

He pinched her nipple just right. She arched, and her head fell back. Not having that, Tate fisted one hand in her hair and tugged her head back up. “No. I want your eyes on mine when you come.” He also wanted to punch his hips up to meet each thrust; to drive into her until she screamed for him. But he got off big time on watching his mate take herself there, so the latter could wait.

His gut clenched when she made this distinctive, telling little moan just as her pussy warmed, tightened, and quaked around him. “Christ.”

A flush swept up her body. Her eyes widened. Her breath caught. Her pussy spasmed. And then she was coming. He used his grip on her hair to keep her head up so he could watch her orgasm take her; so he could watch as her eyes went blind, her swollen lips parted, and her brow creased like the pleasure was so good it was almost painful.

“Fuck, yeah.” Keeping his cock snug inside her, Tate stood, turned, and dropped the upper half of her body on the bed. Gripping her ass tight, he pounded into her, wanting to bury himself so deep inside her she’d choke on him.

“Oh God, don’t stop.” Havana curved her legs around him and gripped the bedsheet. Every savage thrust hit her so deep as he fucked her hard, his pace far faster than hers. Oh, and then he adjusted his angle, finding a decadently sensitive spot inside her. She fisted the bedsheet tighter. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

“Again,” he bit out, finding her clit with his thumb. “I want you to come for me again.”

Well, he’d get what he wanted, because she was already close. And as that very adept thumb rolled, pressed, flicked, and rubbed, the pressure inside her built and built and built.

He bent over her, his glittering eyes snaring hers. “One day, I’m going to leave a permanent brand on you, so the world knows you’re mine. Until then …” He sank his teeth into the crook of her neck.

She sucked in a breath as pleasure tore through her in violent waves, bowing her back. He closed his mouth over hers, swallowing her scream, and growled as he slammed harder, faster. Then he exploded.

Havana melted into the mattress, her body shaking, her lungs burning for air. Tate collapsed on top of her, catching his weight on his forearms. For long moments, they just stayed there like that, trying to catch their breath as he slowly glided his cock in and out of her.

He kissed the stinging bite mark on her neck and hummed. “Your scent gets so much sweeter after you come. Makes my cat want to lick you all up. I’ll be the one doing the licking, though—it’s part of my plans for later.”

She drifted her fingertips over the sleek skin of his back. “Later?”

Lifting his head, he stared down at her, his eyes languid and lazy. “Yes, later. I’m staying here tonight.”

She flicked up a brow. “While I have no issue with that, I have an issue with the ‘don’t argue with me’ tone.” So did her devil, but the animal was currently too out-of-it to do more than toss him a frown. “However, as you just gave me a momentous orgasm and I’m feeling all warm and tingly, I’ll let it go. It’s best if you don’t pull out that tone again, though, ’kay?”

His mouth quirked. “Momentous orgasm?”

“That’s all you got from what I just said?”

Holding back a chuckle, Tate kissed her. He could be overbearing without giving it much thought—not to be an asshole, but because it was literally in his nature to dominate and take control. He liked that she had no issues with putting him in his place. “Funny … you like the ‘don’t argue with me’ tone when I’m using it in bed.”

She narrowed her eyes. “No, I really don’t.”

He smiled. “Oh, you really do. I’ll prove it later.” Unable to resist, he dropped his mouth to hers and nipped her lower lip. He’d mark that tonight. He’d leave an imprint of his teeth on it, just as he had on her neck.

He swept his thumb over the brand near her pulse. The bite wasn’t deep, but it wouldn’t heal quickly. She’d wear it for at least a day or two—something that immensely pleased both him and his cat. The feline was currently rubbing up against her, letting out a satisfied, throaty purr.

Tate gave her one last kiss and then carefully pulled his softening cock out of her. He shuffled them both further up the bed, just as he had last time he was here. Laying on his side facing her, he combed his fingers through her damp hair. “I’m pissed at myself for taking so long to consciously sense who you are to me.”

“Most shifters struggle with that. I’m struggling with it. So don’t be mad at yourself.”

“Can’t help it. My cat’s mad at me for it as well.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Can you be sure he won’t withdraw from me at some point?”

His cat pulled a cranky face, unhappy that she’d doubt his commitment to her. “Yes, I can. What happened with Ashlynn gave him trust issues. The only woman he felt able to trust after that was his true mate—I see that now. That’s why he pulled back from the others. He was looking for you. You’re the only one he’s willing to commit to. I’m one hundred percent certain he’ll all but cleave himself to you.”

She twisted her mouth. “When you first told me how angry he is with her, I thought he might still care for her; that maybe he’s clinging to his anger over her betrayal to drown out other feelings he … why are you laughing?”

His shoulders shaking, Tate squeezed her neck. “My cat just jerked back in horror. Babe, trust me when I say he feels nothing for her. To my cat, she isn’t worthy of him or me.” Tate’s eyes danced. “He loved watching you play with her at the Tavern.”

Havana sniffed. “She had that coming.”

“Oh, she did.” Tate dragged his hand down her back and palmed her ass, his touch nothing short of possessive. His. She was all his. And he’d very nearly committed to another woman. He silently thanked the universe for ensuring it never came to pass. “I know it has to hurt that I almost imprinted on her. But please don’t see it as I chose her over you. It wasn’t like that.”

“You were choosing an imprint bond over a true-mate bond, I get it. I don’t like that you did it, but I get why. And, given what happened to your mom and how that hurt your dad, I can understand how hard it must have been for you to push past all your hang-ups about true-mate bonds to be here with me right now, so I can’t really be mad at you.”

She was the fucking shit. Seriously. And he’d spend his life making it up to her that he’d almost let his issues keep them apart. He pressed a soft kiss to that mouth he loved. “Thank you for understanding.”

She idly danced her fingers up his chest. “So … you haven’t been spending time with Ashlynn recently?”

Tate could see that she was wary of the answer. It hadn’t occurred to him that she’d worry about such a thing. “Not willingly.”

Her brows dipped. “What does that mean?”

He sighed. “She turned up at my house twice. The first time, she came with dinner and wine. The second time, she came dressed in only a coat and high heels—she flashed me right there on my doorstep. I turned her away both times, obviously.”

Havana gaped. “She honestly turned up mostly naked?”

“Yeah.” Tate tugged her closer and breathed in more of her scent. “Look, I don’t want to talk anymore about her—she’s not important. But I won’t lie to you. I won’t hold back. Not anymore. So if you want to know the rest, I’ll give it to you. But be sure you want to hear it.”

“I want to hear it.”

Yeah, Tate had figured she would. In her shoes, he’d have wanted all the facts just the same. “She seems to have it in her head that we can get back what we had, but I can’t imagine why. I told her to fuck off when she came back to me right after Koby rejected her. She tried to contact me several times while she was away from the pride. I blocked her number, and I blocked her on social media. I returned all her letters—unopened.”

“I didn’t realize she’d tried contacting you while living as a loner. What did she say?”

“I didn’t read her messages or emails. I figure they were either apologies or a repeat of the text she’d sent just before she left saying that she loved me and always would. In short, I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with her back then.”

Pausing, Tate slid his hand up Havana’s arm. “I made that clear again when she came home and asked for us to have dinner and talk. And earlier today I once again made an effort to drum into her brain that I have no interest in her. I was pretty harsh about it. She was mad as hell, so she might have now decided I’m not worth the bother.”

Thinking on all he’d told her, Havana blew out a breath. The skank sure was a piece of work. “I still can’t quite believe she’s actually pursued you. I mean, I can understand why she’d want you back—you’re hot, you’re a good guy, and you’re fearless enough to get rid of spiders—most girls don’t like doing that.”

Tate’s brows lifted, and the corner of his mouth kicked up.

“But it’s bad enough that she broke her promises and left you for another guy. To then pester you for years rather than let you find peace … that makes it worse. And for her to then expect you to welcome her home and agree to give the relationship another try … Wow. Just wow. How is it that you almost imprinted on this woman?”

“I don’t mean to paint her as a one-dimensional bitch. She’s not a terrible person. She’s a good daughter. A protective older sister. A loyal friend. She helped her grandmother nurse her human grandfather when he developed dementia, which was hard on all of them. Although she was devastated that Koby chose Gita over her, Ashlynn was never anything but kind to her. She even physically defended Gita once from a falcon shifter at a club. Ashlynn wasn’t resentful or bitter toward Koby. She told me she could never begrudge him happiness, even if she had to watch his relationship play out in front of her.”

Tate twined a strand of Havana’s hair around his finger. “But the thing with Ashlynn is that all her bad traits surface whenever she’s not getting her own way. If she wants something, she’ll go for it without even considering all the facts surrounding the situation. She didn’t even give Koby time to grieve Gita before she made a move on him—she just expects to get what she wants. And when she doesn’t get it, she can’t make her peace with the situation and let it go. She becomes more determined than before to have it. If that means betraying or hurting others, she’ll do it.”

“She can only see the end goal.”

He nodded. “Whenever she doesn’t seem to be getting closer to that goal, she turns resentful and defensive. Not because she’s an awful person, but because she hates that she failed. She can’t admit to having a weakness. So she projects all the blame onto others. It’s more of a self-defense mechanism than anything else, but it’s a destructive one, and others get caught up in her drama.”

“Well, she was dumb not to appreciate what she had in you. She should have held tight.”

“I’m glad she didn’t. I’m glad she broke things off, or there’s a chance I wouldn’t have you now.”

Sensing that he meant every word, Havana frowned. “But you went through the whole imprint-threads-nightmare.”

“I’m still glad she fucked up. I’d rather have you. And I do.” As if to punctuate that, he kissed her soft and long and sweet. And then her stomach rumbled. He smiled. “I need to get you fed. You didn’t have lunch, and your body needs to recover from the blood loss.”

She pursed her lips. “I could eat.”

“Then we eat.”

Soon enough, they were dressed and entering the living area. Neither Aspen nor Camden had left. He was sitting on the sofa, glaring at Aspen … who was pointedly ignoring him. Havana rolled her eyes and asked, “Is Bailey home yet?”

Aspen smiled. “Yeah, she’s in her room putting her phone on charge.” Her eyes dropped to Havana’s neck. “My, my, my, that’s quite a bite. I take it you two kissed, made-up, and decided to give ‘more’ a chance.”

“No,” said Tate, sliding an arm around Havana’s shoulders. “More like we kissed, made-up, and agreed that we’re true mates.”

Aspen’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he replied.

Her gaze cut back to Havana’s neck. “But that’s not a claiming bite.”

“I can’t feel the pull of the bond,” grumbled Havana.

“Yet,” said Tate. “I feel it—that’s enough for now.”

Aspen stood. “Well, congrats, guys. I mean, I know you haven’t officially claimed each other. But it’s a big deal that you found each other—that in and of itself is worth a ‘congrats.’”

“It is, so thank you,” said Havana, stiffly accepting a hug from the bearcat. When it went on a little too long, Havana struggled. “Okay, you can let go now.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, dork.”

Snickering, Aspen stepped back.

“Real pleased for you both,” Camden said, his eyes dancing from Havana to Tate. “It’s about time we had some good news around here.”

“News?” echoed Bailey, strolling into the room. “What news? We have news on the license plate number?”

“Take a look at Havana’s neck,” said Aspen, grinning.

Bailey did, and her brows lifted. “Well, now.”

“It gets better,” Aspen told her. “Tate says he feels the pull of a mating bond.”

Bailey gaped. “Really? That’s awesome. Wait, you don’t feel it yet, Vana?”

“It would seem that something on my end is blocking its frequency,” said Havana, folding her arms, knowing she sounded sulky and not feeling all that apologetic about it. “I’ll figure out what it is eventually.”

Bailey gave a little clap. “I’m so happy for you.”

Havana threw up her hand when Bailey moved toward her, her arms open wide. “I already had to deal with a hug from Aspen. I don’t need another.”

“Suck it up, sister.”

Havana sighed as the mamba’s arms wrapped around her.

“I’m feeling left out,” said Aspen, diving on them both and hugging them tight. “Ah, that’s better. Don’t you think so, Vana?”

Havana felt her upper lip curl. “What I think is that if you both don’t stop with this shit, I will cut you.”

Bailey pouted. “But we’re cold.”

Havana effortlessly shoved them both backwards, making them grin like loons. Hoping to distract them from drowning her in more hugs, she said, “Tate does have some news about the license plate number. Sadly, it didn’t belong to the Charger.”

Aspen frowned. “Really? Shit.”

Bailey’s shoulders sagged. “Gideon wasn’t wrong in what he said over the phone at the motel—finding him won’t be easy.” She slid her gaze to Tate. “Aspen told me he called you earlier, smug because he thought Havana was dead.” The mamba licked her front teeth. “I really hope you’re not planning to kill him quickly, because he needs to suffer a little before he croaks.”

“No quick death for him. You’ll get your pound of flesh. We all will.” Tate guided Havana into the kitchen. “Anything in particular you feel like eating?”

Startled by the question, she blinked. “You don’t have to make—”

“I want to feed you, relax you, take care of you, so let me.”

He thought she’d argue? Not likely. She hummed. “Grilled cheese sandwiches would be good.”

He gestured at the dining table. “Then sit. I’ll make them.”

Brushing her teeth the next morning, Havana watched through the mirror as Tate entered the bathroom and came up behind her. His eyes followed the path of his hands as he snaked them under her long tee and shaped her bare ass. He was already washed, dressed, and ready to face the world. She hadn’t expected him to be one of those people who could enviably roll out of bed looking fresh as a daisy right after waking.

Well, he hadn’t rolled straight out of bed. First, he’d woken her with his finger on her clit and then fucked her from behind while they lay on their sides.

He’d never stayed over before, just as she’d never spent a full night at his house. But last night he’d curved his body around hers, pulled her close, and told her to sleep well before drifting off. And she’d honestly never slept better in her life. She’d felt settled. Safe. Home.

Tate met her gaze through the mirror. “Never seen a better ass than yours,” he said, giving it a brief squeeze. “Looks even hotter now that it has my brand on it.”

She sent him a mock scowl, spat out the toothpaste, and rinsed her mouth. “I’m thinking you went a little overboard with the whole branding thing.” He’d bitten her in too many places to count.

“Just making up for lost time. You wouldn’t believe how many times I almost bit you in the past.”

She’d had to fight the same urge during their fling. And although he would have welcomed it, she hadn’t branded him last night. Mostly because she didn’t trust that she wouldn’t bite or claw him hard enough to draw blood and mark him permanently—that wouldn’t be fair to him when she hadn’t given him the go-ahead to do the same. Plus, she wasn’t sure how his cat would react to being marked. Considering the many issues he had, the animal may need things to go slowly.

“Well it’s a good thing I wasn’t planning to do any sunbathing in a bikini,” she said. “I’m covered in so many bites even another shifter would raise their brows.”

Tate smiled, feeling utterly unrepentant. He liked having her all marked up. Liked that she’d look in the mirror, see those brands, and remember she was his. Liked that others would see them and understand she was taken. “Yeah, they probably would.” His little devil huffed and returned her toothbrush to the holder. “Breakfast,” he said.

She nodded. “Breakfast. I’m thinking pancakes.”

“Works for me.”

In the kitchen, Bailey was prepping the coffee machine in her pjs. “Morning,” she mumbled. “Who wants coffee?”

He and his devil placed their orders before Havana got to work on breakfast. He didn’t know what it said about him that he found it unexpectedly hot to watch her cook. Her movements were quick, efficient, purposeful. There were rarely any wasted movements with Havana; she didn’t fidget, tap her foot, or even get distracted by her playful shit-talk with Bailey.

Soon enough, she was setting a stack of pancakes on the table. The three of them immediately dug in.

Tate sipped at his coffee, his eyes on Havana. Now seemed as good a time as any to broach the matter playing on his mind. “I’m going to ask a few things of you that you’re probably not going to like.”

“You want to step up the security measures around me,” she guessed, trickling syrup over her pancakes. She didn’t say it with annoyance, which seemed like a good sign. Alphas generally didn’t react well to having others surround them with protection, him included—it was reflexive, really, but he needed her to push past that.

“Firstly, I don’t want you going anywhere alone, no matter how short the journey will be,” said Tate. “You can kick ass, yes, but no one is invincible. If you hadn’t had Aspen and my enforcers with you yesterday, we might not be sitting here now.” And that fucked with his head far too much.

She ran her tongue over the edges of her teeth. “I can agree to that,” she said, begrudgingly.

Some of the tension seeped from Tate’s shoulders. “Secondly, I’d like you to either ride with Deke and Isaiah or borrow one of my pride’s vehicles until this is over.” Oh, now that made her go still. “They all have bulletproof glass,” he quickly added.

“They do?” asked Bailey.

“My father dabbles in organized crime,” he reminded the mamba, “so he has enemies.” Tate looked back at Havana. “Maybe asking this of you is me being overcautious, but it’s also sensible. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

Bailey flicked her a look. “Bullet in the throat,” she muttered beneath her breath.

Havana sighed, her shoulders drooping. She couldn’t deny that it made good sense. But she really, really wanted to, because it galled every alpha instinct that she had to have someone try to wrap her up in cotton wool. “I’ll borrow one of your pride’s cars.” She had no reason to distrust his enforcers, but she didn’t know them well enough to be comfortable with them chauffeuring her around.

Tate gave a slow nod. “Lastly, Deke and Isaiah are no longer simply going to follow you in their car. They’ll also shadow you on foot and stick close at all times, whether you’re at work, in a store, or—”

“That’s not really necessary.”

“Yeah, it is. Because while they’re outside whatever building you’re in, they can’t be sure if you’re safe inside.”

Well … true. But she didn’t like the thought of two near-strangers tailing her every moment of the day.

“Gideon was cocky yesterday when he called,” Tate reminded her. “You can imagine what he felt when he realized his plan had failed. He’s going to want to rectify his mistake. Let’s not give him the room to do so.”

“Bullet to the throat,” Bailey again muttered quietly.

Havana ground her teeth. He was right. She knew he was. And if Alphas as powerful as Tate had guards when they were out in public, there was no reason for her to bristle so much over having two enforcers hanging around her. “Fine.” She’d expected Tate to look all smug that he’d gotten his way, but he only looked relieved.

He squeezed her hand. “I know it’s not easy for you to accept that level of protection, especially when you barely know my cats.”

In truth, if it hadn’t been for the drive-by yesterday, she might not have been so cooperative. “I don’t fancy having another brush with death.”

Once they’d eaten their breakfast and stacked the dishwasher, Tate headed into the bedroom to check in with Luke and his enforcers via phone.

Bailey sidled closer to her. “So … I can see that Tate’s happy you two are mates. You don’t seem quite so content. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not unhappy,” said Havana. “I’m just annoyed that I can’t sense the bond.”

“Like he said, you will in time. Just so you know, I’m fucking thrilled for you.”

“Well, thanks. Now go get dressed so we’re not late for work.”

“I won’t be late.” Bailey had just reached the kitchen doorway when someone knocked—no, pounded—on the front door. The mamba sighed. “Aspen’s apparently in a mood.”

“Then please don’t poke at her.”

“I can’t help it,” said Bailey, heading for the door.

Havana only rolled her eyes and took another sip of her coffee. She heard the creak of hinges.

“How did you get into the building?” Bailey asked their visitor, making Havana’s brows snap together.

“Where is she?” a voice demanded. Dieter.

“She’s in—hey, it’s rude to shove people.”

Havana entered the living area to see Bailey frowning at his back as he marched into the apartment like he had every right.

He made a beeline for Havana and yanked her to him, hugging her tight. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“Corbin called me and told me what happened. I needed to see for myself that you were fully healed.”

“I am,” she said, stepping out of his embrace and putting space between them. “How did you get in the complex?”

“Someone had wedged the main door open so they could go back and forth with some furniture,” he replied. “Now please tell me you have the name of the person who tried to kill you yesterday. Or even better, his severed head.”

“I wish I could.”

He cursed beneath his breath. “He needs to be found before he thinks to try it again. Shit, Havana, I can’t believe you almost died.” Dieter’s gaze switched to something behind her, and then his entire body went tight.

Glancing over her shoulder, Havana watched as Tate slowly stalked into the living area. His unblinking stare was locked on the newcomer as his long legs covered the space with his usual animal grace. Then he was at her side, his arm brushing hers.

And now she felt awkward. Dieter wasn’t her ex-boyfriend, but he was close enough to count. Tate knew that; he knew she’d once cared for this man. She didn’t want him to think that those feelings still lived inside her, but if she touched Tate in reassurance, he might think she was trying to shove their relationship in Dieter’s face to make the guy jealous or something.

“Everything all right, Havana?” Tate asked, his eyes still fixed on their visitor.

“Yeah, fine.” She was about to make the introductions, but Dieter spoke before she had the chance.

“Who are you?” he asked Tate, his tone somewhat belligerent with a note of territorialism … like that of a bratty juvenile who didn’t like finding an unfamiliar guest in his home.

The male at her side didn’t bristle. “Tate Devereaux, Havana’s—”

“Landlord, right,” Dieter finished, narrowing his eyes.

“Among other things.” Tate flicked up a brow. “And you are?”

“Dieter,” he replied simply. Like Tate would know who he was. Like Havana must talk about him all the time or something.

“Just Dieter?” asked Tate. “Like just Madonna, or just Cher?”

The eagle shifter’s nostrils flared. “Dieter Lincoln. I thought your enforcers were supposed to be guarding Havana.”

“They were,” said Tate. “Hence why the shooter targeted her via drive-by. He no doubt figured it was his best bet of hurting her without being caught.”

“Well, he was right, wasn’t he?” Dieter snarked. “She took three bullets yesterday. Could’ve died.”

“I’m aware of that,” said Tate, his voice so carefully calm it raised the hairs on her nape. It must have had a similar effect on Dieter, because he seemed to resist the urge to toss more shitty comments at Tate. Wise decision.

“Ever since Tate realized there was a danger to me, he’s been on top of this situation,” said Havana. “You don’t get to come here and point fingers at people who have been trying to keep me safe when you haven’t done a single thing to help.”

“Not because I don’t care,” said Dieter. “I was just—”

“With Tabitha. Which is where you should have been. All I’m saying is that you need to jump off your high horse.”

“And you need to leave this place and lay low for a while. These people after you? They either know your routine, or they’re having you followed—neither of those scenarios are comforting. You could move in with me until it’s over. Or I can arrange for you to stay on my girl’s territory for a while.”

Havana stared at him. He couldn’t honestly think either of those things would happen. “I don’t have any intention of going into hiding.”

“Swallow your damn pride. Being an alpha doesn’t make you invincible. What happened yesterday should have taught you that lesson. Laying low is best and you know it. Jesus, Havana, surely you realize you’re lucky to be goddamn alive.”

A growl rattled Tate’s chest. “I get that your emotions are running high right now, but you need to watch your tone.”

He’d taken the words right out of her mouth.

Dieter blinked. “What?”

“I don’t like the way you’re speaking to her,” Tate went on, his face hard. “More, I don’t like that you think you can talk to her that way. It stops. Now. And while we’re on the subject of what I don’t like, you can take a step back as well. I don’t want you this close to her while you’re angry.”

Dieter’s brows slid together. “You think I’d, what, hurt her?”

“Don’t know. Don’t know you. I just know I don’t want anyone near my girl while they’re in the mood you’re in right now. Simple as that.”

“Your girl? What does that mean? The fling’s back on, is it?” Dieter asked, a sour note to his voice.

“I didn’t say that.”

His face flushing, Dieter glared at Havana. “Wait, you’re dating this guy?” He asked it in the same tone someone would ask if she held satanic rituals in her basement. “For God’s sake, he’s your landlord. What, you want to lose your home? He’ll evict you if it doesn’t work out in the long-run. And it won’t. From what I’ve heard about him, he’s only interested in shallow relationships.”

“That bite mark on her neck says different,” said Bailey.

Dieter went utterly still. His eyes dropped to Havana’s neck and darkened. “You let him mark you?” he asked, his tone so even she could almost miss the anger there.

Havana sighed. She’d never allowed Dieter to leave brands on her because she’d known they wouldn’t have meant anything to him—they wouldn’t have been marks of possession, they’d merely have been wounds he left in the heat of the moment.

Dieter shook his head. “I don’t get any of this. You don’t do commitment any more than he does.”

She felt her head jerk back. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never been in a relationship. You like to keep things casual.” He gestured from her to him. “Case in point.”

“I don’t have some kind of phobia of commitment. It just took me a while to find someone I wanted to commit to.” Which had originally been Dieter, but she didn’t say that. “Which is exactly what happened with you. Meeting Tabitha changed things and made you want more.”

Dieter snapped his mouth shut. “And meeting this guy changed things for you, did it? Did you stop to wonder if meeting you changed anything for him?Because I don’t buy that it did, or he’d have offered you ‘more’ straight off. He didn’t. And did the fling progress to more? No. It ended. Then he comes back on the scene, and you two are dating. Sounds to me like he doesn’t really know what he wants.”

“Right, you’re done here,” declared Tate, officially through with this asshole. Just looking at him, knowing Havana once cared for the man, was hard as fuck. Hearing Dieter badmouth him and try to make her doubt his commitment to her … it was tempting to sucker punch the piece of shit. His cat was all for it.

Dieter scowled. “Well, this isn’t your home, so you don’t get to tell me when I’m done here. Butt the fuck out.”

“Dieter,” groaned Bailey. “Don’t be stupid. He could probably kill you with his thumb alone.”

Havana raised her hands. “All right, let’s move on from this, shall we? Dieter, I appreciate you coming to check on me. I really am fine. Thanks for stopping by.”

His spine stiffened. “You want me to go? You’re kicking me out?”

“I’m trying to prevent this situation from escalating,” she said. “If you can calm down, you’re welcome to stay. If you can’t, you need to go and come back when you are calmer.”

Dieter’s eyes blazed. “For fuck’s sake, Havana, how do you expect me to be calm when you almost died?”

A growl vibrated Tate’s chest. “Didn’t I warn you to watch your tone?”

Dieter’s eyes flickered, but then his expression morphed into a cold glare. “How I talk to my friend is not your goddamn business.”

Tate stepped right into his personal space. “Wrong,” he said, his voice low and deep. “Havana’s my business. How people treat her is my business. And from what I can see, you’re not that good of a friend.”

“Now, hang on a—”

“All you’ve done since you walked in here is bitch at her for one thing or another. You talk to her like she owes you explanations, and then you act like a dick when you don’t like what you hear. You’re all about how you feel, not how she feels. So right now, I’m not liking you. Which means I’m not liking that you’re anywhere near my mate.”

All the bluster drained from Dieter in a rush. “What?”

“You heard me.”

The eagle’s gaze bounced from Tate to Havana. “You’re not bonded.”

“We will be.”

Dieter looked at Havana, his face slack. “He’s your mate?”

Tate didn’t look away from the eagle, but he heard her reply, “Yes, I was hoping you’d be happy for me.”

Dieter closed his eyes, but not in time to stop Tate from seeing the flash of pain in them. When those eyes opened again, they were blank.

“Just a few minutes ago,” Tate began, “she gave you a choice—calm down or leave. Make that choice, or I’ll make it for you. And I think you get that I’ll have no issue with throwing your ass out of this apartment. Something tells me I might even enjoy it.”

Dieter’s gaze slid back to Havana, still utterly devoid of emotion. He parted his lips as if to speak, but then he clamped them shut and cleared his throat. “I’ll talk to you again soon.” He spun on his heel and left, closing the door behind him.

Bailey puffed out a long breath. “We should totally have him over more often.” With that, she headed to her room, presumably to get dressed.

Tate turned to fully face Havana. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, scratching her nape. “You?”

“I’m good.” He looped an arm around her and drew her close. “He doesn’t like that you’ve found your mate.” In fact, Tate was thinking that the eagle might have offered Havana a relationship if she’d confessed to wanting more from him. Either that or seeing her with someone else simply hadn’t been easy for the guy. Some could feel a little proprietary over people they’d slept with, even if it had been emotionless sex.

“I think he’s just all wound up about the drive-by,” she said.

Tate didn’t think so. He’d seen the hurt in the eagle’s eyes. “I wanted my family to be the first people I told about us being mates. Instead, it had to be that asshole.”

“Think your family will be happy for you?”

He smiled. “Oh, yeah. They like you.”

She smiled right back. “I like them. The rest of your pride might not be so pleased that your mate is a lone devil shifter, though.”

Tate snorted. “After your display of mercilessness at the Tavern, they all think you’re the shit. Pallas cats respect strength and viciousness—you know that.” They’d be happy to have her as their Alpha female. He didn’t say that, though, because he had no idea how she felt about running a pride and he didn’t want to spoil the mood. They could discuss it later. Right then, all he really wanted to do was taste that mouth of hers again. So he did.