She hadn’t quite gotten over the hurt yet. Her father and cousins had healed without complications. They were back to full strength; the flesh wounds they had received had healed nicely. But Anya’s heart hadn’t quite healed, and she knew it. She still woke in the middle of the night crying out for him, and she still remembered the feeling of complete isolation as the pleasure of their sexual encounter eased away.
She had been cold. So cold clear to her soul that sometimes she wondered if she would ever be warm again. At the time, she had known she wouldn’t. And she would never forget his answer to the Breed tribunal when Cassandra Sinclair had asked him if he loved his mate.
Had he actually suggested he could learn to love her? As if she wanted him to learn anything.
She stomped into her personal quarters, casting a glare at the door that led to Del-Rey’s. She had started to move her rooms, until the pack alphas had come to her, refusing to allow it as per Del-Rey’s orders.
Everything was Del-Rey’s orders. At least everything he could get away with. She still hadn’t seen her father, despite his transfer to the United States. He and her cousins and their families now lived in California, having been slipped from Russia by a combined Wolf and Feline Breed mission.
Because she was now Del-Rey’s mate, her family represented a threat to her welfare if they remained where the Council could easily reach them.
She was coya of the Coyote packs. Second-in-command when Del-Rey and his lieutenants were off playing heroes. When he was back, she had always been moved to Haven, where she paced and worried and knew all the hard work she had done at the base was being ruined by Del-Rey.
Coyotes had a tendency to be a little deliberately lazy. Not so much on the job. They could be counted on to do their jobs. But keeping the kitchen in order, the community room free of debris and the reports flowing smoothly weren’t always as easy to ensure. Because Del-Rey let them slack off.
Sharone piped up. “Maybe we’ll have an official ceremony soon. With the alpha back, he could decide it’s time to seduce his coya. You know you can’t get out of officially accepting your title much longer. Whether you sleep with that bad-assed Coyote or not, that ceremony is serious shit. Even the soldiers that came out of Russia with us are looking forward to it.”
The ceremony. That’s all she heard about was that damned ceremony. It was a wedding, pure and simple. But for some reason it held much more significance to the Breed community than it did to some humans.
“I’d be satisfied if he’d just learn how to clean the dirty clothes out of his quarters while I’m gone,” Anya snorted. “The man excels at deliberate messiness.”
“At least he excels,” Sharone laughed.
“This isn’t going to work,” she stated, swinging around to stare back at Sharone as she closed the door behind her. “I haven’t managed to straighten out the messes he left me last month when he returned. I can’t leave yet.”
Sharone’s hazel green eyes gleamed with amusement. “You’re going to stay while the alpha is in residence? Oh, Coya, very brave,” she drawled. “And here you’re a day late on hormone therapy injections? Guess you should have gone to see the doc yesterday, huh?”
There was another problem. That Wolf Breed quack was starting to get on her nerves. There was something wrong with her, she didn’t care what Dr. Armani said. The dreams were coming back. Bright, sensation-ridden dreams of sex. The kind of sex where Del-Rey wrapped around her, whispered all the lies women liked to hear and left her aching for release. It had to be the mating heat. Armani had to be wrong about her hormone levels, there was no other option.
“Contact Armani and tell her I’ll be in first thing in the morning.” Anya worried her lower lip as she thought. “Maybe I can convince her to up the dosage a bit with Del-Rey here.” She looked at Sharone questioningly. “If that worked, then I wouldn’t have to leave every time he got a wild hair up his butt and decided to come back.”
“Del-Rey? Get a wild hair up his butt?” Sharone snorted. “No body hair, remember?”
That was Sharone, mocking and sarcastic.
“Don’t pick on me, Sharone,” she ordered her. “This situation is bad enough with Del-Rey returning as it is.”
Her emotions were ready to overload. Excitement. Anticipation. She was tired of hiding from something that wasn’t her fault. This mating heat crap was kind of under control. The mating heat hormone levels were steady. She had periods of arousal, but Armani kept arguing they were normal. Baloney. What she was feeling was not normal. It couldn’t be. Otherwise, it meant she was actually missing that wisecracking, lying, mangy Coyote and she refused to do that.
“So, should Emma and Ashley get the cabin in Haven prepared?” Sharone asked.
Anya grit her teeth and stared back at the other woman in fierce determination. “I don’t think so. Let’s see how long he can actually stay with the coya in-house so to speak,” she bit out. “A hundred says he’s gone in a month.”
Sharone laughed. “A hundred says you’re knotted again within the week.”
They shook on it. Anya had no doubt in her mind who was going to win.
CHAPTER 4
He had changed.
The next afternoon Anya walked into the open community room, a large cavern that housed the recreational area of the base, and stopped.
She stared at the man lounging in a recliner on the far side, his pack alphas similarly relaxed, beers in their hands as they talked.
Del-Rey looked happy. There was a grin playing about his lips, his dark face was creased in amusement, his devil’s black eyes filled with mirth as one of the pack alphas talked.
His dark blond hair was shorter. It had once fallen to his shoulders, the long, coarse strands thick and healthy. It was now cut a bit above the shoulder and it was shaggier than it had been before, as though he’d cut it himself.
One jean-clad leg was stretched out, the other bent. His wrist rested on his knee and he held his beer loosely. The shirt he wore buttoned up the front was wrinkled, clean but not exactly neat.
In his opinion though, if it were neat, he would be a Wolf rather than a Coyote. She snorted silently at the thought as she let her gaze caress him again.
He was just as gorgeous as ever. Not pretty-boy gorgeous, but rough and rugged. Strong features defined his face; arched brows, a high forehead. His entire body was a golden bronze, as though perpetually tanned. His lips were sensual, the lower lip just a bit too lush for a woman’s peace of mind perhaps. The full curve tempted the imagination, made her remember what his kiss had felt like.