CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Fucker,” Paxton spat at the wolverine, rising to his feet. He didn’t shift, which was no surprise to Bree—for him, this was between him and Alex. He wouldn’t want to bring his cat into it. He’d want to deliver every single wound himself.

The wolverine glared at him through those small, beady eyes. And then it lunged, easily shoving the other male back to the ground. His powerful jaws clamped around Paxton’s leg, heaved him up, and slung him at the barbed wire fence.

Vinnie flinched. “Now that had to hurt.”

Coughing, Paxton tried to push himself up. The wolverine slammed his paw on the male’s head, leaving ugly rake marks along his scalp and face. But he hadn’t hit the cat hard enough to crush his skull and kill him—something the wolverine could have easily done.

This wasn’t going to be a simple execution, she then realized. This was a beating. A punishment. Alex’s beast wouldn’t stop until the male was reduced to a pathetic chew toy.

Hissing furiously, Paxton awkwardly jumped to his feet. “You’re dead.” Then, well, he went at the beast like it had fucked his mother. Punched, kicked, clawed.

Paxton was faster and stronger than she’d expected. But the wolverine withstood every blow, lashing out with his own claws and getting in plenty of good licks.

Beneath the coppery scent of blood lay the smells of pain, rage, and hatred. All incited her cat, who hissed and snarled, urging the wolverine on. Bree would swear those bloodcurdling growls of his rattled her bones.

Dimitri sidled up to her and Vinnie. “Here.” He effortlessly sliced through the ropes binding Bree. “No material is wolverine-shifter resistant, no matter what other species say.”

Even as she and her Alpha shook away the ropes, Bree didn’t move her eyes from the brawling shifters. It literally hurt her back and joints to straighten and stand on her own two feet, but she shelved the pain, just as she shelved the godawful pins-and-needles sensations as the blood rushed back to her extremities. Her focus was on the fight.

Eyes gleaming with rage, Paxton charged at the wolverine, his claws extended. The beast stood on his hind legs and swiped out his large, webbed paw, backhanding the other male hard. Paxton hit the ground like a rock.

The wolverine didn’t give him the chance to rise. Back on all fours, the beast pounced on Paxton’s stomach and raked him with his curved claws again and again, hooking the skin and tearing strips of it off.

“Oh, now he’s getting down to business,” said Vinnie.

Writhing and roaring in pain, Paxton brought his knee up hard, slamming it into the wolverine’s gut. The beast barely flinched, but Paxton didn’t give up. He punched and clawed the beast’s snout, head, neck, and flanks.

Bree winced each time Paxton viciously dug his claws deep into her mate. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was all that thick fur and that tough hide, but the wolverine powered through the pain and fought on.

Growling low and deep in his throat, the wolverine savaged his prey—and he very clearly enjoyed it. Those long claws sliced, stabbed, and shredded. Those razor-sharp teeth sank into flesh and crunched bone.

Soon, Paxton’s angry roars turned into gut-wrenching cries of sheer agony. His movements became slower, his strikes became weaker, and his heartbeat turned sluggish. Then even his screams seemed to lose their strength.

Bleeding heavily and barely holding on, he looked at Bree, his usual dead eyes alive with so much pain. And she knew he wanted her to watch him die. Knew he wanted that moment to haunt her.

She looked at Alex instead … just in time to watch as the wolverine stomped hard on Paxton’s head, crushing his skull like it was a pumpkin.

Well, all right then.

She waited for some elemental part of her to feel something close to grief—Paxton had been her predestined mate, after all. But there was none. She was relieved that he was gone, because she’d never viewed him as hers.

The wolverine backed away from the dead, mangled body, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths. He turned to Bree, blood staining his snout and fur. Expecting fear or rejection? She hoped not.

Bree crouched down and smiled as he padded toward her. She stroked blood-free patches of his fur. “Thank you for coming for me. Again.”

He licked his bloody muzzle and grunted. Maybe it was a “you’re welcome,” she wasn’t sure. Bones cracked and popped as he shifted. And then Alex was there. He pulled her close and hugged the shit out of her, burying his face in her neck and breathing deep.

She hugged him back, though not as tightly, fearful of chafing his injuries. Her cat pressed against him, wanting to soothe. “We need to get you to a healer.”

“Shut up,” he said, gruff as ever. For Alex, that was really the equivalent of “I’m so glad you’re alive, I can’t live without you.”

She pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “As I already said to your beast, thank you for coming for me.”

“Stop talking.”

Her mouth curved. “Okay.”

Vinnie stepped toward them. “We need to get you to Helena or Sam so those wounds can be healed, Alex. They’re not too bad, but there’s a lot of them. You’re losing a fair amount of blood.”

“Bah,” scoffed Sergei. “He is wolverine. Blood loss does not slow us down. You dumb cats know nothing.”

“I don’t think you want to be referring to my kind as ‘dumb’ while Alex is feeling uber protective of his mate right now,” said Vinnie. “Or did you forget she’s a cat, too?”

Sergei leveled an even look at him. “Breasha is not cat. She is wolverine.”

Vinnie’s brows snapped together. “What?”

“Did you not see how she stayed so calm and still while gun was pressed to her head? There was no whimpering or shaking or crying. Breasha has soul of wolverine. And so, she is wolverine.”

Isaak and Dimitri—who was eating what looked like berries—both nodded.

Vinnie sighed. “She’s a pallas cat, and her name is Bree, but whatever.”

Bree spoke into Alex’s ear. “You know, I think your uncles might just consider me family now.”

“Shut up,” he repeated, still sounding a little choked up.

She smiled. “Sorry.”

She sat on his lap throughout the drive back to his apartment complex—purely because he insisted on it. His parents, Mila, Dominic, Elle, and Helena were all waiting inside his apartment. It seemed that his mother had broken in and then welcomed the others inside.

Helena healed him while Valentina served black tea and pastries—most of which his uncles demolished. Alex barely said anything, leaving the telling of the tale to others, but he spat out a foul curse when he heard about the GPS tracking app on her cell phone.

Bree truly felt bad for Vinnie and James, who were distraught to hear their sister was involved in the plot against Bree. Mila and Alex were obviously also hurt, but it hit the brothers exceptionally hard.

Alex never broke physical contact with Bree at any point. He was either holding her hand, palming her nape, resting a hand on her thigh, or curling his arm around her.

She caught him staring at her a few times, as if he was worried that she’d disappear if he took his eyes off her. But when she’d smile and ask if he was okay, he’d just gruffly tell her to shut up. That lost its humor when he was still doing it later as they showered.

Stepped onto the mat, she wrapped a fluffy towel around herself. “Do you think you could stop brooding? It’s gone on long enough.”

He stilled, and his eyes blazed. And then came the explosion she’d been waiting for.

“It’s gone on long enough? You were drugged! Taken! Gagged! Tied the fuck up! Had a gun put to your head twice! And then—”

“You came,” she finished, her voice soothing. “Now I’m here. With you. Safe and alive, because of you. So could you please stop yelling and telling me to shut up all the time? Really, it’s a good thing I love you.”

The bluster left him in a rush. “You love me?”

“Now who’s the one asking stupid questions?”

He drove both hands into her hair, boring his gaze into hers. “You love me?”

She sighed. “Yes, idiot.”

He held her tight again, tucking his face into the crook of her neck. “Fuck, I love you.” It was a gruff whisper, but she heard it. “Say it again,” he all but ordered.

“Why?”

He lifted his head and snared her gaze with his own. “Do it.”

“Fine. I love you.”

Growling, he swooped down and claimed her mouth. Consumed, ravished, and possessed it. She soon found herself flat on the rug, and then he was balls-deep inside her. He fucked her hard and slow, staring into her eyes the entire time. It wasn’t long before she came with a choked cry, tightening her legs around him. He exploded deep inside her with a snarl of her name, his cock throbbing and pulsing. Then he collapsed on top of her.

He was heavy as hell, but she didn’t complain. She just stroked his back as they lay there, shaking and panting. Every heavy breath he let out fanned her neck.

“You can’t ever leave me, Bree.” It was a gruff whisper.

She curled her arms around him and squeezed. “I won’t. You can’t ever leave me.”

He lifted his head and met her gaze. “That would never happen. Never.”

“Good. Glad that’s settled.” She moaned into his mouth as he kissed her soft and slow and languid, melting her bones. Damn but the guy could kiss.

Sliding an arm under her back, he kept her tight against him as he stood. “Bed.”

She looped her limbs around him. “Bed.”

Pain sliced through Alex’s head and stabbed his chest, yanking him out of sleep. He knifed up, but the hurt was already fading. He forgot all about the pain, because he realized the imprint bond had fully formed.

Stunned, he looked down at his mate, who was wide awake and just as mystified—something he felt through their bond. “What happened?” he asked, his heart thudding. “Not that I’m complaining that we’re now fully mated. I’m just wondering what prompted it.”

“Well, I was thinking …”

He lay down and rolled onto his side to face her. “Thinking what?”

“I had a fucked-up dream that Paxton shot you. It woke me up. And I was lying here, thinking about all that happened, letting it sink in that he was gone and wasn’t ever coming back; that he couldn’t taint my life anymore; that, most importantly, you’re safe now.”

He frowned, thinking his safety was definitely not more important than hers.

“And then I thought … fate’s not the bitch I used to believe it was. I mean, it gave me a totally screwed up mate, and it took both my parents from me, so I guess I hadn’t trusted that it would let me keep you; that it would let me have something good. I was expecting to lose you at some point, and I didn’t even realize it. That must have stopped me being completely open to the imprint bond.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? I can’t blame you for not having any real faith in fate. It’s been throwing bags of dogshit on your doorstep for years.”

Her mouth hitched up. “You’re the best form of compensation a girl could ask for.”

His beast rumbled a contented sound. Alex drew her closer and sipped at her mouth, indulging himself in her taste. He smoothed his hand up her back to palm her head. A head that had not long ago had a gun pressed against it. Alex tensed, tightening his hold on her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Seeing that gun aimed at you … I’ve never felt so fucking useless. All I could do was let that twisted piece of shit talk himself out.”

“He’s gone now.” She stroked his chest. “And after watching your beast go ape-shit on his ass, I can see why you weren’t so worried about him attacking you.”

“I did tell you that he wouldn’t manage to kill me, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Not liking the “I told you so” tone, Bree sniffed. “I think my cat could take you.”

The look he gave her was somewhat pitying. “She could cause me some pain, I’ll admit that much. But she doesn’t stand a chance against—ow,” he growled when she tugged his leg hairs with her toes. “Keep them cute feet to yourself.”

Bree felt her face scrunch up. “They’re not cute. No one has cute feet. Feet are ugly. Except for baby feet. They’re ridiculously cute. Do you want kids?”

“Only if we have them decades apart. And only if they’re boys.”

“Why do they have to be boys?”

“I’d kill any male who went near my daughters, so it’s best all-round if we don’t have any.” He splayed his hand on her stomach. “You’re going to let my babies grow right here?”

“Our babies, yes. Oh my God, you just smiled.”

His expression turned somber as ever. “No, I didn’t.”

“You did. Okay, so your mouth curved the teensiest bit on one side, but that totally counts.”

“There was no curving.”

“Dude, you smiled. It was a rusty smile, but I’ll take what I can get.”

He frowned. “I don’t smile.”

“Saw it with my own eyes, Devereaux. You. Smiled.” It was probably her smug tone that made him growl.

“Has anyone else told you you’re a pain in the ass?”

She pursed her lips. “No.”

“Well, they were definitely thinking it.”

She poked his chest. “Hey, that’s not nice.”

“I’m not nice.”

“Yeah, but it’s sort of endearing. It works for you.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, flicking off the covers. “Gonna grab a snack, I’m hungry.”

“Surprise, fucking surprise.”