CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Alex hadn’t expected to wake up and find himself alone. He’d gotten used to waking up to the sight of Bree right there—whether it be in her bed or his. He liked it. Liked that she was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes each morning. Liked that he could reach out and touch her, stroke her, drive her to a fever pitch of need. So he found himself glowering as he padded through his apartment, following the trail of her delectable scent.

His beast’s ears pricked up when said scent changed and turned a little feral. Her cat had surfaced and was somewhere close.

Feeling eyes on him as he walked into the kitchen, Alex looked up. And blinked. “What are you doing all the way up there?”

Curled up on the top of the fridge with her bushy tail wrapped around her, his little pallas cat lifted her head and gave him a cranky “how dare you breathe my air” look.

Alex shrugged. “All right.”

One of her small, tufty ears twitched, and then she settled down again. It was clear he’d be having breakfast alone—something he wasn’t too happy about, since he’d also gotten used to having it with Bree.

Inwardly grumbling, he made himself coffee and cereal. It wasn’t until he’d finished his second bowl that the feline leaped down onto the table, all grace and muscle. Claws out, she did a long, regal stretch.

He pushed his bowl and empty mug aside. “Come here, kitty cat.”

Sheathing her claws, she let out an ornery growl and flicked her black-tipped tail at him. But she straightened and padded over to Alex. She didn’t even object when he gently lifted her and held her against his chest, though she did give him a put-out look.

Alex whispered nonsense to her as he stroked her rich coat, admiring the patches of white-cream fur on her chin, throat, and inner ears. His beast loved the little purrs she made; loved that she felt so comfortable and relaxed with them.

Counting the little dark spots on her forehead that made him think of snow leopards, Alex said, “You have more spots than Mila.”

The cat gave him a bored “like I care” look that made him chuckle. Maybe it made him weird, but he found her crankiness kind of endearing.

He traced the little black stripes across the cat’s cheeks with this thumb. “Such a pretty kitty.” Albeit slightly weird-looking—something he was smart enough not to say out loud. “Can I have Bree back now?”

The feline puffed out a breath and rumbled out an unhappy noise, but then bones cracked and popped. Seconds later, he had a naked woman straddling him.

Alex skimmed his hands up her bare back. “Your cat’s sweet and snuggly.”

Bree made a pfft sound. “She’s ratty and moody is what she is.”

“I didn’t like that you weren’t there when I woke up.” Frowning, he gave her lower lip a punishing nip. “Don’t leave the bed without waking me next time.”

She smiled brightly. “And good morning to you, too. Yes, I am feeling fine, thank you. How about you?”

He just grunted. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I scoffed down a Danish before I let my cat out. She wanted to scent-mark your territory again—probably because we’re now partially mated.”

Alex’s frown deepened. He didn’t like the “partially” part, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. “I would have let my beast out so they could play together, but they play too rough. The furniture would be in pieces, and I’m pretty sure he’d eat all my food.”

“Be honest, the latter bothers you more than anything else, doesn’t it?”

“Well it’s my food.”

She chuckled.

“Speaking of food, I woke up to a text from my mother. She told my uncles in Russia that I’ve taken a mate, and they want to officially meet you. They hopped straight onto a plane. She’s going to cook dinner tonight for us all.”

“I’ve seen your uncles a few times, but I never spoke to them. They don’t seem to have a high opinion of pallas cats.”

“Like my maternal grandmother, they don’t have a high opinion of any breed of shifter other than their own. That’s partly why they’re assholes to my dad. But it’s mostly that he refused to move to Russia when he mated my mom.”

Bree frowned. “But they’re nice to Mila, and she’s a pallas cat.”

“They claim she has the ‘soul’ of a wolverine, so her animal’s bodily form apparently doesn’t count.”

Bree’s eyebrows shot up. “Right. So the meal might not go well?”

“It definitely won’t go well. It never does when my father and uncles are eating at the same table. You’ll see what I mean.”

Just as he and Bree arrived at his parents’ apartment that evening, his mother opened the door before Alex had the chance to knock. She ushered them inside and kissed both their cheeks before herding them into the kitchen.

Alex received back pat after back pat from his uncles. Dominic had once told him that, with their solid builds and dark hair slicked back, the three male wolverines made him think of the bad guys in The Matrix movie. He wasn’t far off the mark.

All made an intimidating sight, especially when standing together. Isaak was all bluster, arrogance, and superiority, and he loved to poke at Valentina. Cloaked by an aura that pulsed with menace, Dimitri was the quietest of the three, but he had a hair-trigger temper that had gotten him into far too many bar fights over the years. Sergei, smaller and more approachable than his brothers, would smile and talk softly and put you at ease. All the while, though, he’d be watching you for weaknesses … planning the most entertaining way to watch you die.

Alex’s beast pushed close to the surface, protective of his mate. The animal trusted that the males wouldn’t physically harm her, but they were so damn rude they made Alex seem welcoming. “Bree, you remember my mom’s brothers—Isaak, Dimitri, and Sergei.” Alex splayed a hand on her back as he told the male wolverines, “This is my Bree.”

Isaak’s bushy brows lifted slightly. “Ah, short for Breasha? That is good, strong Russian name.”

Just as Alex was about to tell him that, no, her name was “Bree,” she flashed Isaak a smile and said, “Agreed. It’s nice to meet you.”

Dimitri sighed. “Why not choose female wolverine, Aleksandr? Why must you make your mother’s shameful mistake and pick dumb cat? Our Valentina could have had anyone. Anyone. Yet, she chose that.”

James groaned. “Will you just let it go already?”

Isaak cocked his head. “I heard a squeak, Valentina. Quite high-pitched. You must have vermin again. Where is rat poison? I will get it.”

Valentina swatted her brother’s arm with a dish towel. “It will be in your food if you do not cease trying to play games with my mate, Isaak.” She scowled at her other brother. “Dimitri, watch your words or leave.”

Sergei slowly approached Bree. “We have not spoken before, but I remember your eyes. They are very striking.”

“Thank you,” Bree said simply. Her cat, wary of the strangers, pushed hard against Bree’s skin as she studied the highly dominant males. The feline wasn’t whatsoever subtle about it, so Bree knew the others in the room would sense it.

Sergei’s eyes glittered with approval. “Your cat is bold. I like bold.”

Dimitri took a moment to silently assess Bree and then twisted his mouth. “A very strong omega.”

“Strong enough to be primary,” said Valentina, proudly. “When Dani steps down, Bree will take over. For now, she has other things to worry about.” She looked at Alex. “You should tell your uncles about the trouble surrounding Bree. They may be able to help.”

“What sort of trouble?” asked Isaak.

While they all settled at the table and Valentina fussed over everyone—filling plates and pouring drinks—Alex told his uncles about the current goings on concerning Bree.

Dimitri forked a piece of steak. “I have heard of Cage but never met him. I heard he is like ghost. No one sees him go in or out of buildings. They only find bodies. If he is nearby and wants you dead, Breasha, I think you would already be so.”

Yeah, the wolverines had apparently decided to call her Breasha.

“But now that you’ve mated Aleksandr, Paxton may no longer care if you live,” said Sergei. “Do not worry, though. Aleksandr will protect you. Ivanovs take care of their own.”

Sighing, James lifted his glass of wine. “Alex is a Devereaux, as you well know.” But Sergei ignored him.

“Wolverines are born to protect—it is in their nature, their blood, their bones,” Isaak told Bree. “Aleksandr is fierce even for one of our kind. He makes us all proud. It is not easy for boy to grow without father to guide him, but Aleksandr turned out well.”

James’s jaw hardened. “He has a father, and that father is sitting right here.”

Isaak glanced at the floor. “Did you hear that? Sounded like squeaking.”

Valentina clenched her hand around her fork. “Isaak, do not make me hurt you.”

Bree shot James a supportive smile, but the male pallas cat didn’t seem all that bothered by the Ivanovs. He was probably well-accustomed to them at this point.

“Perhaps we can help you, Breasha,” said Dimitri. “We will search woods near your house. If Paxton is there or has been there, we will find evidence of it. And if we find him, we will catch him.”

James sliced into his steak. “Kill him, you mean.”

Dimitri lifted his shoulders. “Is that not same?”

“No, not even close,” replied James. “You don’t free your captives. You eat them.”

“I freed you,” said Dimitri.

“No, I escaped. Then I blew up your cabin.”

Dimitri’s sigh was nostalgic. “It was very fine cabin. I miss it sometimes.”

“Back onto the previous subject,” began Alex, “do any of you know anyone who might be able to tell us where the Silva Clan hides?”

Sergei pursed his lips. “Perhaps. Leave it with us.” He looked at Valentina. “Mama plans to visit you soon.”

James’s head snapped up, and he frowned. “What?”

Pointedly ignoring James, Sergei spoke to Valentina again. “She says she wishes to see her great-grandchildren again.”

Valentina huffed. “Mila will not allow it unless Mama agrees to behave herself. Do not pretend you do not know what I mean. Mama cannot call twins by names she herself has chosen. She needs to use their given names.”

Isaak’s brows snapped together. “You cannot blame Mama for that. The babes should have Russian names.”

“But they do not,” said Valentina. “So unless Mama respects that and stops telling Dillon that all wolf shifters are cursed to spend afterlife alone, Mila will keep twins away from her.”

“Which would be for the best.” James sipped his wine. “They don’t need to be exposed to Skeletor’s brand of dysfunctional.”

Just like that, all three Ivanov male wolverines puffed up.

“You will show more respect to our mother,” snapped Dimitri.

James snorted. “I will show her shit.”

Isaak shot to his feet. “You do not deserve our sister. It is tragedy fate gave you to her. No woman should feel such shame and pain—”

Valentina slammed a fist on the table. “Must this happen every time we eat together? Can you not manage to be civil to my mate for just an hour?”

Isaak scowled. “Why would we be civil to psychopathic cat who forces our sister to live in America? You make no sense.”

“He does not force me to do anything,” Valentina said through her teeth. “Living here is my choice.”

“Bah,” said Isaak. “He has brainwashed you to believe it is your choice. Psychopaths do that. They trick mind. Do you know nothing of world you live in?”

“What I know is I will stab this fork in your eye if you do not cease with this game.”

James laid a hand on his mate’s fist. “It’s all right, sweetheart, don’t let them get to you. It’s not worth it.”

“There,” said Isaak. “Did you not hear soft tone of voice he used, Valentina? It is like hypnosis. Ted Bundy smiled liked that too, you know.”

Valentina slashed her hand in the air. “And I am now done.”

She and her brothers then began to argue in rapid-fire Russian.

Alex turned to Bree with an exasperated sigh and rested his arm on the back of her chair. “Now, aren’t you glad you came?”

Bree only chuckled. Yeah, actually, she was.