CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

“You need to get rid of them.”

Pausing with her spoon hovering above her cake, Bailey frowned at the brunette sitting opposite her. “What? Why?”

“They’re freaking out the rest of the pride.”

“How? It’s not like they’re bothering anybody.”

Havana shot her an impatient look. “Absolutely anyone would be bothered that snakes are nesting in their building.”

“They’re not nesting … as such,” fudged Bailey, holding her paper bowl closer to her chest. “They just want some company, so they come sleep at my apartment now and then.” She paused as a gaggle of squealing kids ran by, dragging party streamers through the air. “Is that so terrible?”

“Yes,” Havana insisted, plucking a spring roll from the paper plate on the table in front of her. “Because they go slithering through air vents and pay visits to the other residents.”

“They’re just being neighborly.”

“Bailey.”

Right then, the DJ on the stage spoke into the mic, and the song changed into something even more upbeat. Whistles of approval went up, and then more asses left seats as the number of dancers increased.

Pride events were often held here at the Tavern, their pride-owned local hangout. This evening, they were celebrating the sixtieth birthday of one of their submissives, Clarence. He seemed to be having an absolute blast—if he wasn’t dancing to the blaring music, he was singing on the karaoke. The songs were mostly hits from the 70s and 80s.

Slicing her plastic spoon into her cake, Bailey scooped up a chunk and shoveled it into her mouth. The tastes of frosting, jam, cream, and moist sponge burst on her tongue. Chewing, she glanced around to see that most of the partygoers who were not on the dancefloor had congregated into small groups that either sat at tables, stood around talking, or even played pool. Most of the kids had fled to the arcade area, but some were dashing around the place like their asses were on fire.

Bailey’s inner serpent wasn’t keen on all the noise. But though the venue was super loud, it was loud in a happy way. There was lots of laughter and singing and light-hearted chatter.

As always, the omegas had gone all out when it came to the decorations. Birthday banners were pinned above the bar and stage. String lights and lanterns hung on the brick walls, skirting the sports paraphernalia and widescreen TVs. A white and blue balloon arch was positioned near the buffet table. More white and blue balloons were tied to pretty weights and set on tables, along with confetti and LED candles.

One of the burgundy-cushioned booths was all but overflowing with various sized gifts covered in glossy wrapping paper. There was also a stack of envelopes and several gift bags.

“I’m serious, Bailey.” Havana bit into her spring roll. “I need you to get on top of the situation.”

“I can’t help it that full-blooded snakes are drawn to me. They’re drawn to all snake shifters.”

“I know that. But I also know that they’ll heed your mamba if she puts on a dominance display to scare them off. Have her get rid of them.”

“She doesn’t want to. They’re her friends.”

Havana fired an incredulous look Bailey’s way. “Her friends?”

“And they haven’t bitten anyone.” At least not yet.

“But they might, mightn’t they?”

Probably. “Of course not.”

Havana snorted, flicking her maple-brown hair over her shoulder. “Well, forgive me if I’m not confident of that. No, don’t argue, they need to go.”

“I can’t believe you want to isolate my snake from others.” Bailey sank her plastic spoon into her slice of cake extra hard. “Don’t you care that she gets lonely?”

Havana crossed her almond-shaped bluish-gray eyes and then bit into her spring roll again. “She does not get lonely. She prefers her own company. The only reason she likes being around others is that she finds humor in stirring the pot. As do you.”

So true.

“Your mamba urged them to take a hike last time. What’s the difference?”

“You were my roommate back then, and my snake is protective of you.” The devil shifter was not only Bailey’s Alpha female but her honorary sister. “I live alone now.”

“If you discount the numerous snakes nesting in your apartment, yes, you do.”

“I told you, they’re not nesting.” Per se.

Havana gave an impatient shake of the head. “Just get rid of them.”

“Fine. But my mamba is not happy about this.” Bailey scooped up more cake with her spoon and then shoved it into her mouth. “And I’m honestly pretty surprised that the pride went whining to you about it. The majority of them are pallas cats. Those things fear nothing.”

‘Undauntable’ was one of many descriptors that could be given to pallas cat shifters. They were as brash and bad-tempered as they were disturbingly vicious. The latter particularly applied to their inner animals.

The small, adorable fluffballs were pound for pound one of the strongest of the shifter breeds. More, they were so downright batshit they would attack with a feral, unchecked, demonic fury even if their enemies were stronger, bigger, and outnumbered them. Pallas cats either didn’t or couldn’t muster any fucks to give, which she could respect.

“First of all, you have to stop referring to them as things,” said Havana. “Second of all, they’re not afraid of the snakes. They simply don’t want said snakes making a home for themselves in their building. Which is reasonable. Not that I’d expect you to understand that, since you and ‘reasonable’ are pretty much strangers. So you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“But—”

“No, stop being difficult.”

“I can’t. Your frustration warms the coldest parts of my soul.”

Havana reached over and flicked her on the forehead.

“Ow. That hurt, you know.” Her hands occupied, Bailey couldn’t rub at the smarting spot, so she just spooned the last of her cake and wolfed it down.

“Good. It was supposed to.”

Aspen materialized and retook her seat beside Havana, her usual smile absent. “I could throttle her.”

Feeling her brow crease, Bailey put her empty bowl on the table. “Who? Why? What?”

Aspen held up her cell phone. “I just spoke to Corbin,” she said, referring to a male grizzly shifter who was both their boss and their savior. “He’s been trying to call you. Where’s your cell?”

“In a bag of rice on my kitchen counter,” replied Bailey.

“You dropped it in water again?”

“Only the mop bucket. I didn’t drop it in the toilet this time. Why was Corbin trying to call me?”

Aspen rested her phone on the table. “Apparently, Ginny is insisting to all and sundry at the rec center that you’re responsible for the recent attack on Jackson.”

Bailey almost chuckled in sheer surprise. “Me? Is she kidding?”

“Nope. She’s convinced of it. She claims it’s another of your attempts to punish him for cheating on you with her.”

Bailey snorted, and her mamba flicked her gaze skyward. “That happened yonks ago. Hey, I’d have no problem nonetheless kicking his ass. I’d also enjoy it.” Her ex would deserve it for sure. “But I wouldn’t blindside him. I’d make sure he saw me coming. And I definitely wouldn’t leave him for dead in an alley. I don’t kill those who wrong me. It’s more entertaining to break their mind.”

“Yeah, for you. But not everyone operates that way.”

“They should. They’d enjoy life so much more.”

Havana cut in, “No one at the center will heed Ginny. They know that jumping someone from behind isn’t your style, Bailey.” Pausing, she batted salt off the golden-brown skin of her arm. “Plus, considering you were at a mating ceremony the evening he was attacked, you have plenty of alibis.”

“I’m not worried that the members of the center will believe her. But I don’t like that she’s trying to stir up drama there.” Owned and managed by Corbin, the rec center gave loners a place where they could relax, make friends, and be safe.

Bailey and her girls had once been loners in need of somewhere to go as children. Corbin had been the one to take them in. They’d worked at the center for years. And they hadn’t retired even after they joined the Olympus Pride when Havana mated its Alpha male, Tate.

“According to Corbin,” Aspen began, absently skimming her fingers through the dark, sleek, choppy layers of her long, angled bob, “Jackson is saying that he thinks it was a random attack. He’s probably right. Sad as it is, it isn’t uncommon for loners to be targeted by packs or prides or whatever.”

Bailey gave a slow nod. Having no protection, loners were easy prey. She herself had been “preyed on” from time to time over the years. It had never ended well for those who’d thought to come at her.

Havana chomped down the last of her food. “I doubt Ginny’s as angry about the attack as she claims to be.” She focused her gaze on Bailey. “I think she’s just throwing accusations your way to get back at you for tormenting her all these months.”

“Probably,” said Bailey. “She was seething when all I did was laugh at her for starting the petition to have me fired from the center. Though why she thought I’d be upset, I don’t know.”

“Most people would be,” said Havana. “But since it’s well-known that you feed off the frustration of others and find their subsequent reactions amusing, yeah, I have no idea why she expected you to be upset.”

People could be so weird.

Aspen went to speak, but then a waitress appeared at their table with a black, garbage bag.

“Any trash?” asked Therese, her powder-blue eyes bright and clear.

Bailey handed over her spoon and empty bowl. “I like the nose piercing. It suits you.”

Tentatively touching the rhinestone ring, the slim blonde flashed her a smile. “Thank you. I’m still not used to it yet, but I love it already. My cat thinks it looks stupid, though.”

Havana laughed. “No offense, but pallas cats are disapproving creatures in general, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Loosely stroking a fist down her golden-blonde ponytail, Therese gave a sheepish smile. “Disapproving indeed. Mine is always grumpy anyway—it comes with being latent,” she said with acceptance, not resentment, though it couldn’t be easy to resign yourself to being unable to release your inner animal. She quickly bagged every bit of trash on the table. “You girls need anything else?”

“I’m good,” replied Bailey. Both Havana and Aspen echoed her sentiment.

“All right, just holler if you change your mind.” Therese turned to leave, almost bumping into two other females who’d appeared at the table. “Sorry, my bad.”

“No problem,” said Blair, their Beta female.

Similarly, Livy—who was the birthday boy’s mate—assured her, “It’s fine.” She stepped aside to allow the waitress to pass and then turned to face Bailey and her girls. “Hello, ladies,” she greeted, a bowl in hand. “Thank you so much for coming. My Clarence really appreciates it.”

Havana waved off her thanks. “Of course we came. It’s his birthday. And you made chocolate fudge cake. We were never going to miss that.”

Visibly pleased by the compliment, Livy patted the back of her dark, asymmetrical bob before cutting her blue gaze to Bailey. “Well, don’t you look pretty tonight.”

“And every other night,” said Bailey. “You and I have that in common.”

Livy chuckled. “I like this one, Havana.” She set a bowl of pecan pie in front of Bailey. “Here. I know it’s your favorite, so I saved you a slice. Enjoy.” With that, she left.

Her mouth curved, Blair stared after the woman as she took the chair beside Bailey. “She’s so sweet.”

“I know,” said Aspen. “I want her to adopt me.”

Bailey peered into the bowl, her nose wrinkling. “She’s always feeding me.”

Blair’s brow furrowed. “Feeding you?”

“Yes. She comes to my apartment with homemade casseroles and stuff, saying she had them lying around. Sometimes, she just stops by to ‘chat.’ Like we’re old friends. And she’ll always bring a cupcake or something.” Bailey rubbed at her neck. “It feels weird.”

Aspen snorted. “Of course someone being nice to you feels weird. You’re not used to it. People are usually threatening to end your existence.”

“I like it better that way.” Bailey swiped the bowl from the table and lifted the plastic fork. “Things get boring otherwise.”

Blair gave her a playful nudge. “If Livy was unmated, I’d say you were being courted. Hmm, maybe she’s got her eye on you for one of her sons.”

Bailey froze, her fork wedged in her pie. “What?” Her snake also stiffened, equally wary.

“She did the same thing years ago with Colby, who’s now happily mated to Livy’s eldest son, Matthew,” explained Blair, her green eyes twinkling. “Livy knew he had a huge thing for Colby, so she gently pushed them together. I remember watching it all go down, wishing my mother could be so supportive of my choice of mate.”

The nineteen-year-old bush dog shifter might not have mated their Beta male, Luke, until recently, but they’d been part of each other’s lives since they met when Blair was twelve. “Maybe Livy has you in mind for Deke,” Blair added.

Bailey blessed her face for not flushing. Just the mention of the male enforcer made her belly do a dumb little flutter. And that was some bullshit right there. Never before in her life had a guy made her stomach do anything.

It was annoying, but unfortunately not enough to dim his appeal for her. There was a reason that Bailey called him Eye Candy, and it wasn’t merely to poke at him. Truly, Deke Hammond was a treat for the eyes.

Big and broad and inked, he was packed with muscle. He had the eyes of a predator—focused, intense, and filled with an animal cunning that spoke to her snake. Those same eyes were a vivid caramel-brown that looked a lustrous gold in some lighting.

The angles of his ruggedly masculine face were hard and sharp. His short hair was dark as molasses, much like the light layer of scruff that darkened his strong jaw. His bottom lip was slightly fuller than his top one, and she wanted to lick both. Maybe even nibble on them a little.

She’d never admit it aloud, but Bailey loved his voice. It was rough and scratchy; all thorns and barbs. It could make any girl’s skin break out in a shiver.

Unlike most, he wasn’t one little bit unnerved by her inner snake. But then, Deke never seemed rattled by anything. The tough bastard was so damn steadyand sure of himself.

For Bailey, there was something unbelievably enticing about his air of cool stoicism, even with its underlying sense of danger. Or maybe because of that danger. But no one else needed to know that, including her friends.

Bailey chomped down some pie. “It’s not that.”

“It could be,” argued Blair. “It would make sense.”

“How? Livy knows perfectly well that he promised himself to Therese’s bestie. Dayna Something-Or-Other.” And if Bailey’s stomach cramped each time she thought of it, well, it just meant she had gas.

“Not quite. He’s not in a long-distance relationship with Dayna. He simply agreed to wait for her to come home rather than move on while she was gone—it was to see if they had the potential to build something real. But according to Colby, Livy is of the opinion that he needs to untangle himself from Dayna.”

“Why?”

“She feels that Dayna doesn’t deserve her boy, considering she’s been content to stay away for so long. Maybe Livy also thinks that you’ll fit him better.” Blair sighed. “I kind of feel bad for him right now. Touch-hunger can’t be any fun.”

Bailey had personally never experienced it, but she’d heard it was hell. Touch was a need for shifters. Highly tactile, they didn’t function well without both social and sexual contact. And if they were deprived of either, they’d be hit by touch-hunger at some point. They’d then have to deal with irritating stuff like hot flushes, night sweats, and their libido sporadically kicking into overdrive.

There were some exceptions where a lack of sexual touch was concerned, such as when a shifter was provided with enough social touch by their true mate—something that would be very potent for them—to compensate for it. Which was why Blair and Luke had been spared it during the years they were unmated.

From what Bailey had learned, Deke and this Dayna person had agreed to only sleep with others when touch-hunger came calling. Apparently, he usually did exactly that. This time, though, he appeared to be fighting it.

“I don’t know why he won’t just go work it off in some female’s bed. He’s been like this for weeks. It’s not as if he’s short of offers.” Bailey stomach twisted again. More gas.

Havana looked at her. “The only outlet he’s currently getting for all the tension is from his verbal spars with you, which is why I didn’t tell you to dial it down and give him a break. He needs whatever release valve he can get.”

Blair fiddled with the end of her pale-blonde braid. “I personally think Bailey should just go fuck his brains out and be done with it.”

Bailey almost dropped her fork. “What?”

Aspen barked a laugh. “I happen to agree. No, don’t say you don’t like him that way, Bailey. We know you too well.”

Which was terribly unfortunate at times. “I like his butt, that’s all.” It was spectacular. “And I still say he’s not worthy of it.”

“You can’t possibly hold it against him that he asks you to reflect on your behavior,” said Aspen.

“Yeah? Watch me.” Bailey shoved more pie into her mouth.

The bearcat sighed and shook her head.

“You can hold a grudge and still help him work off the touch-hunger, Bailey,” said Blair. “He’d bone you no problem.”

“Are you kidding? The dude is no fan of mine. He wouldn’t even fuck me if the survival of his species depended on it.” Bailey dug her fork into her pie again. “Besides, I’m not interested in sleeping with someone who spends most of his time glaring at me in disapproval. It hurts.”

Aspen cast her an exasperated look. “You love that you irritate him. You purposely set out to do it.”

True. “I do that to everyone,” Bailey reminded her.

“Yeah, but you put in a little extra effort when it comes to him,” said Aspen.

Hmm, maybe. In her defense, her mamba always egged her on. Peer pressure was no easy thing to fight for Bailey, she was very sensitive to such … Damn, she couldn’t even finish the thought without inwardly laughing it was so ridiculous. The truth was that she only responded to pressure if she wanted to.

“I don’t know why you’re so sure he’s not into you, Bailey,” said Blair. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Bailey flicked up a brow. “Like he wants to squeeze my throat until I stop breathing?”

“The other way he looks at you. Like he wants to get all up in your business. And now that you’re no longer dating Shay …” Blair shrugged.

The mention of Shay made Bailey’s lips thin. Hey, he was a decent guy. And not boring, which she liked. But he’d regularly made a point of talking about Deke, always watching her carefully while a knowing smirk played around the edges of his mouth.

“Believe what you want,” began Bailey, waving her fork dismissively, “but I’m telling you, Deke loathes me. He thinks I’m evil.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Havana assured her.

Bailey snorted. “He splashed me with holy water to, and I quote, ‘see what happened.’ He claimed to be disappointed when I didn’t burst into flames.”

Aspen’s mouth curved. “I swear, he can be almost as bad as you sometimes.” She paused. “If you were to ease your foot off the taunting-him-pedal, he’d probably be a lot nicer. Maybe give him a reprieve.”

“I wouldn’t give him the steam off my shit. Besides, Deke doesn’t do ‘nice.’”

He was a good guy, but nothing close to pleasant. Gruff and unpolished, he had zero time for subtlety. In fact, he was as aloof and superior as any feline. Not to mentionrude and finicky. And he could ignore you like only a cat could. But people tended to find his rough exterior endearing.

“Well, whatever the case,” began Havana, “I’m thinking Blair’s right that Livy’s chosen Bailey for Deke.”

Blair nodded, her eyes dancing. “Be warned, Bailey—Livy might be a submissive shifter, but she’s no pushover. That woman is as persistent as a damn wolverine, and she loves her children fiercely. If she has truly decided that you’re what Deke needs, she’ll stop at nothingto make sure he has you.”

“I’m kind of excited to see how this all plays out,” said Aspen, smiling and rubbing her hands together.

“It’s going to be fun,” Havana asserted, her mouth hitched up.

“Excuse me,” Bailey cut in, “but nothing is going to ‘play out.’ Even if you’re right that Livy’s up to something, it still won’t amount to anything. I’ll just tell her to back off, and she will.”

Giving Bailey a pitying look, Blair gently patted her on the head. “You’re so pretty.”

“Don’t make me burp in your face.” Catching movement from her peripheral vision, Bailey looked to see a tall, stocky figure stride into the bar. She tensed. She knew that walk. Knew that nape tattoo. Knew that scraggly haircut.

Bailey hissed right along with her inner serpent, who recognized him just the same. “That motherfucker.”

Havana stiffened. “Who?”

“Remember my cousin who died shortly before we joined the pride?”

The devil nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, he ain’t dead.” Bailey lurched to her feet. “He’s also standing right there.”

Setting three shot glasses down on the bar, the bartender sighed at Deke. “Whiskey is not going to help with your little problem.”

Deke wouldn’t consider touch-hunger “little,” but whatever. “I wouldn’t have thought that you cared.” He and Gerard didn’t exactly see eye to eye.

“I don’t.” The bartender gave a superior sniff. “I’m just stating what should be obvious.”

Well, of course Deke didn’t need telling that alcohol wouldn’t solve his issue. Only one thing would, and Gerard was the last person Deke would have expected to recommend it. “You’re actually urging me to sleep with a woman who isn’t Dayna?”

The other male usually gave him judgmental, disapproving looks—offended on her behalf, despite that she and Deke had an “understanding” where touch-hunger was concerned.

Gerard parted his lips to speak again. His words didn’t come out. His gaze slid to something behind Deke, and he then snapped his mouth shut.

Glancing over his shoulder, Deke almost groaned. Both his Alpha and Beta male were approaching, looks of resolve etched into their faces. And he knew they would once more pester him to “open up.” More, he knew his time for putting them off was over. He could see that in the hard sets of their jaw.

The bartender melted away as the two males closed in on Deke.

One hand splayed on the bar, Deke lifted a shot glass and then flicked his Alpha a brief look. “This isn’t the time or the place to have the conversation you want to have.” He knocked back his whiskey, relishing the burn as it slid down his throat.

Luke snorted, propping his hip against the bar. “At no point has any time or place suited you when we’ve questioned you in the past.”

Fair point.

“We’re not going to let you blow us off, so don’t bother trying,” stated Tate. “I warned you that we’d only give you so much time to get your mental shit together.”

Inwardly cursing, Deke placed his glass on the bar.

“You haven’t been yourself lately. Then you got hit by touch-hunger. But instead of addressing it, you seem intent on ignoring it. Which makes no sense.” Tate folded his arms, his gaze steely. “Tell us what’s going on.”

Deke looked from one Devereaux male to the other. The brothers were very similar in appearance. Tall, dark, broad, and blue-eyed. Tate carried a little more muscle than his younger brother, but both were well-built. “You’re really gonna push me to talk about this here and now, at my dad’s birthday party?”

“Yes,” replied Tate. “Because it means you can’t leave and avoid our questions this time.”

Fuck, Deke should have anticipated that they’d corner him now. They were sneaky that way. He grabbed a waiting shot of whiskey from the bar and tossed it back.

Luke sighed. “No amount of alcohol is going to make the touch-hunger go away.”

“Helps take the edge off, though.” Cricking his neck, he set down his empty glass beside the other. Usually, he wasn’t much of a drinker. He’d knock back some beers while shooting the shit with his pride mates now and then, but that was pretty much it. Until recently. He’d take whatever relief from the touch-hunger he could get.

Generally, Deke could go seven months without sexual touch before it became an issue. Whenever touch-hunger had struck in the past, he’d instantly worked it off—sometimes it had taken days, sometimes it had taken weeks. But this time, he was having … difficulties alleviating it. As such, since it hit him a few weeks ago, his body had been in a constant edgy state.

He always felt jittery and antsy. Like he’d overloaded on caffeine and energy drinks. He sometimes woke in the night, sweating but without a fever.

Worse, the touch-hunger would randomly flare up, assailing him with relentless sensations … just as it had mere minutes ago. His skin was now hot and prickly. His head pounded and felt tight with pressure. Little itches kept racing over his flesh.

More, such raw need coursed through him that his dick was painfully hard. He knew from experience that no amount of attention from his hand would ease it. Because it was his hand, not that of another.

Being around so many unmated females didn’t help—it often caused the touch-hunger to flare up. As if his body sensed that a solution to its issue was close by; as if it was trying to drive him to reach for that solution.

Deke rubbed at his forehead. He wanted to go home. Be alone. Get away from the noise and activity. He felt so overstimulated that his nerve endings were raw and his senses felt sharper.

“We’re not doing this to be nosy,” said Luke. “We’re concerned. We want to help.”

Deke considered blowing the brothers off. Again. But it would be a fruitless endeavor—he saw that clearly.

It also seemed like a shitty thing to do when over and over they’d respected his wish to be left alone. That couldn’t have been easy for them—particularly since they were both born-alphas and, as such, authoritarianism was written into their damn DNA.

Even now, they weren’t calling rank and imperiously demanding answers. They were merely pushing for Deke to confide in them so that he wouldn’t have to deal with his issue alone. In that sense, they were only doing what he’d do if the situation were reversed. Pride looked after pride.

“Seriously, why won’t you ease the touch-hunger?” Tate pushed.

Deke reluctantly replied through gritted teeth, “Because I can’t. My cat won’t have any of it.”

Tate’s lips parted. “What?”

“He’s constantly in a fucking snit,” Deke explained. “Doesn’t want anyone near him—male or female. He’s always on edge; always either pacing up and down or stiffly crouched in a corner. Honestly, you’d think he was trapped. That’s how he acts. Like a caged wild animal.”

Luke stared at him, clearly at a loss. “What sparked this?”

Deke shrugged. “I have no idea. Seriously. It wasn’t so bad at first. He was just tetchier than usual. But it got worse as time went on, until he was wound so tight he kept starting fights with other cats for the release. Then he pulled inward, wanting nothing to do with anyone. But I didn’t think he’d still act so withdrawn when touch-hunger became a problem—I thought he’d want it to be dealt with.”

Tate edged closer, his arms slipping to his sides. “Is it because of Dayna? Does he miss her or something?”

Deke slid Gerard a quick look, ensuring he was out of hearing range, since the bartender was a close friend of Dayna’s and would report back anything he heard. “No.” Deke paused as a scuttling sensation raced up his arm. He ground his teeth against the itch. “He didn’t even fight me when I made the official decision to pull out of the vow I made to her.” A decision he hadn’t yet shared with her, but he would.

Tate’s brows flew up. “You’ve pulled out?”

Deke blinked. “You sound pleased.”

Tate’s compact shoulders lifted and fell in an easy, fluid movement. “You’re a man of your word, Deke—you don’t like to break it; I respect that. But I don’t think it’s fair that you’re expected to stick to it in this situation. I mean, she wasn’t supposed to stay away for so long. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not criticizing her for being hesitant to leave Australia—she’s taking care of her family. But she told you she’d be gone a year at most.”

Not told. Sworn. And yet, over two and a half years later, she still hadn’t returned.

Intent on finding his true mate, he’d always made a point of keeping his relationships short and shallow. But he’d unexpectedly grown close to Dayna. Maybe because they’d been friends for years prior to them sharing a bed.

When her pregnant sister unexpectedly lost her mate, Dayna had chosen to temporarily move to Australia to be at her sibling’s side. But she hadn’t wanted her and Deke to throw away what they’d been building, so she’d asked him to wait for her. He’d agreed, and they’d made a promise to only sleep with others when touch-hunger came calling.

“At this point,” Tate went on, “I’m not even sure she intends to return.”

Deke slugged back his last shot. “I believe she wants to. But I also think that she’s finding it hard to drum up the will to leave, and I get it. Evan might be her nephew, but she’s co-parented him since he was born. Really, she’s been more of a mom to him than her sister has.” He set his glass back on the bar.

Luke tilted his head. “How did she handle you pulling out of the vow?”

“She doesn’t know it’s my intention yet. I video-called her a few days ago to tell her, but it turns out that her great-uncle just died, and so his mate—unable and uninterested in fighting the breaking of the mating bond—is now dying. What kind of a dick would I be if I broke it to her now that I was done waiting for her to come home?” Deke plucked at his tee. Like his skin, it felt too tight; felt confining. “I should have done it months ago, really.”

“You should have done it a year and a half ago, when she failed to come home like she’d said she would,” maintained Luke.

“If I’d known she’d stay in Australia this long, I wouldn’t have made her any promises.” He would have thought it pointless for them both. “Countless times I considered bowing out. But then I’d feel like a piece of shit for not supporting her at a time when she’s so busy supporting others. And I worried it would make Dayna feel pressured to return before she’s ready.”

“I get it, Deke. But it isn’t fair to you that you’ve had to put your life on pause. It’s not for you to be her rock.” Luke pushed away from the bar, straightening. “Unless you think she’s your true mate?”

Deke scratched at his cheek. “I once thought she might be. She’s the only woman I’ve ever really clicked with. But she’s been gone a while, and I haven’t struggled to deal with it. Neither has my cat.”

Puffing out a breath, Tate rocked forward slightly on the balls of his feet. “And here I thought you were just struggling with your attraction to Bailey.”

Deke’s head flinched back slightly. “Bailey?”

“You want her,” said Tate. “That much is obvious.”

Deke felt his mouth firm. Yeah, it was obvious. It was also a goddamn mystery.

Not that she wasn’t attractive. Bailey was a pretty thing. Not classically beautiful, but striking. Arresting. And far too fucking tempting.

Her dark deep-set eyes were set into an oval face that boasted high cheekbones, elegantly arched brows, and a full, upturned mouth. Her obsidian hair seamlessly blended into a striking silver and tumbled down her back, sleek and ruler-straight. The warm tones of her smooth, flawless skin hinted at her Japanese ancestry.

Average height, she was also slender and supple. Her breasts were high and delightfully perky. And fuck, she had a great ass—tight and round.

Despite being a dominant female shifter, she didn’t give off a predatory vibe. She had “innocence” written all over her. Looked as sweet as she did helpless. There would be no way to guess that the female was a ferocious, cunning, bloodthirsty creature who picked fights simply for something to do.

Provocation was not required with Bailey—even with no motive, she had zero problem drawing first blood. Or tossing out logic. Or dicking with people. Or waving her crazy flag high in the air.

Yeah, there was nothing innocent about Bailey Bryant.

But his cock gave not one fuck about that. Nor did it give a single shit that she set his damn teeth on edge—always pushing his buttons and not taking him or his authority seriously. The woman didn’t really take anything seriously, from what he could tell.

She was like no one he’d ever met. There was no real way to handle her. Deke could be sure of it, because he’d tried. No avenue he’d used had been effective. Not glaring, not ignoring her, not blowing her off, not riling her, not calling her on her crap, nothing.

In sum, attempting to handle Bailey was much like trying to dish out orders to a full-blooded cat. They’d just twitch the tip of their tail and walk away—having better shit to do than deal with you.

It made no logical sense to him that, despite it all, he found it impossible to dislike her. Or that she was such a temptation to him he actually worried that, should he be caught in a moment of weakness, he might make a move on her regardless of the vow he’d made to Dayna.

Deke never broke his word. Ever. But Bailey had made him consider it more than once, and so he couldn’t help feeling a little resentful toward her.

Tate tipped his head to the side. “Would your cat be down with you spending a night in her bed?”

Deke shook his head. “He often wants to bite her—and not in a good way. In any case, it doesn’t matter, because she wouldn’t be down with it either. The woman doesn’t like me.”

She didn’t even refer to him by his own damn name. She addressed him with dismissive terms such as Boy Toy and Eye Candy. She might as well say, Oh Depthless One. “Plus, there’s Shay to consider. She only recently stopped dating him.”

Tate’s brow inched up. “Do you realize that you barely got out the latter two words without grinding your teeth?”

Yeah, well, Deke didn’t like thinking of her with others. It wasn’t that he felt possessive of her. But the thought of other males touching her made his hackles rise—it was difficult to explain.

“Your mom likes her,” Tate casually threw in.

Deke exhaled heavily. “I know.” She often raved about the mamba. Well, Bailey possessed a lot of the traits that pallas cats found admirable—namely viciousness, ferocity, and fierceness.

Luke rubbed at his chin, his eyes dancing. “Livy also keeps taking food to her apartment.”

Deke almost rocked back on his heels. “What?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Luke, nodding. “Your mom frequently knocks on her door. Colby mentioned it.”

“Jesus,” Deke muttered, thrusting a hand through his hair. Why his mother thought that the mamba would make a good match for him, he had no clue. They were far from compatible. Complete opposites, really.

Bailey was more likely to shoot him in the face than let him touch her, and he couldn’t envision himself spending any real length of time around her without putting duct tape over her mouth. They had only two things in common: They possessed an ill temper, and they were seriously unforgiving.

His cat often snarled at her, irritated by how she dismissed and poked at Deke. And considering her snake had launched herself at Deke with lethal intent on numerous occasions, he felt he could safely conclude that the mamba would have no more interest in him than Bailey would. So. Yeah. His mother was aiming her arrow at the wrong female.

“Back to the subject of Dayna,” began Tate, “do you think she’ll take your decision well?”

Deke pursed his lips. “I would have said yes, considering it’ll mean she won’t feel torn between me and Evan any longer. But I’ve offered to free her from her promise numerous times in the past, making it clear that there’d be no anger on my part. She always turned down my offer, swearing she’ll be home ‘soon’ and asking me to wait.”

At this point, Deke didn’t understand why. They didn’t video-call as often as they used to. In fact, weeks at a time could go by before he heard from or contacted her. So he obviously wasn’t on her mind, just as she wasn’t on his.

Luke set his hands on his hips. “Did your cat’s weird behavior begin after you officially decided to break away from her?”

“No.” Deke ground his teeth as an itch built on his nape. “It was happening before then. It didn’t coincide with anything else that was going on at the time. I don’t know why he’s acting this way, but nothing helps.”

“So you don’t think he’d calm down if Dayna came home?” asked Luke.

“No. He’s not upset with her. He’s not anything with her.” It wasn’t until the skin of his nape began to sting that Deke realized he was scratching it hard. He lowered his arms to his sides. “Don’t get me wrong, he respects and likes Dayna. But he doesn’t pine for her. The thought of scrapping the agreement doesn’t bother him one way or the other.”

Tate leaned his side against the bar and braced his arm on it. “There’s no one he calms down around?”

“No,” replied Deke. “And he goes nuts whenever I even think of bedding a female. Like he doesn’t want the intimacy. Not even to alleviate the touch-hunger.”

Tate twisted his mouth. “Maybe he’s acting this way because he’s tired of waiting for his true mate to come along. It might be that he’s withdrawn from everyone because the only touch he wants is that of his mate.”

Deke frowned, considering that. “It’s possible.”

“I’d ask why you didn’t tell us about all this sooner, but I can understand why you kept quiet.” Tate paused. “There was a point where my own cat had similar issues, though not to this severity. Confessing weakness to other predators isn’t something we do. I protected my cat just the same as you’re protecting …” He trailed off, his brows snapping together. He whirled on the spot and began scanning their surroundings. “My mate is pissed about something; I can feel it through our bond.”

Deke swept his gaze around the Tavern, searching, searching—there. He frowned as he took in the scene. Blair stood off to the side, her eyes wide in what appeared to be bafflement as both Havana and Aspen stood at Bailey’s back. The latter two females seemed to be silently raging as the black mamba shifter argued with an unfamiliar male.

A male who was too far up in her personal space for Deke’s liking.

Before he knew it, he was on the move.