A fight to keep the Russian Coyote Breeds within the alliance that had formed and to hold on to the tenuous peace she could feel unraveling around her. A peace she had worked eight months to ensure. The battle between his and hers. The Coyote soldiers that had followed Del-Rey for so many years and the ones she had fought tirelessly to gain freedom for.
As long as she had been coya, peace had reigned. Now those of the Russian pack saw an insult in the reversion of rights and her lowering of status. She saw Del-Rey’s reasons, almost understood them, but to make them work there was no way that the packs could know the reasons.
That left them at a stalemate she feared wouldn’t last much longer.
It was evening by the time she made it into the kitchen. There had been an attempt made to load the dishwasher. It was haphazard at best.
The kitchen was the biggest problem in the whole facility. None of them wanted to clean up their own messes. Soldiers were always in a rush, teams rushing in to eat, then back out. Some came in weary and tired, fixed what they could, then went to sleep, exhausted. She couldn’t fault them, but she couldn’t keep up with them either.
At least someone had tried.
She was straightening the dishwasher when Jax stepped into the kitchen. Tall, light blond, with darker streaks and dark blue eyes. He was as handsome as the others. Breeds were created to be perfect in every way.
He wasn’t cruel with it, or even mean. But like the other soldiers, he pushed and he tested his boundaries. He hadn’t tested her as coya, but it seemed he was determined to test her now.
“You didn’t make biscuits,” he noted as he moved to the fridge and set out a plate of thickly sliced sandwich meat. “Morning teams missed them.”
“I was busy this morning,” she sighed, straightening the dishes in the machine.
“Yeah, Del-Rey’s a horndog when he gets started,” he snickered. “I remember a coupla years back, he wore three women to exhaustion and was looking for a fourth before the night was out. Damn, he was fun then.”
Anya stiffened. “TMI, Jax.”
He snorted at that. “Come on, Anya, you know what he’s like yourself. You checked out his rep before you came to that bar when you first met him. You were a cute little thing,” he commented. “I wouldn’t have waited so long if I’d been Del-Rey. I would have done you that night.”
Anya straightened slowly and turned to face him. He was standing behind her now, his expression controlled, his gaze cool.
“Don’t do this, Jax,” she said softly.
“Why? Because Cavalier likes to warn those of us that followed Del-Rey what a little angel you are? What happened, Anya? How did you betray the alpha enough to force him to revert your authority?”
She shook her head. “Ask your alpha. But let this go tonight, Jax.”
“You betrayed us somehow, Anya,” he growled. “No Breed turns his mate away for any other reason. He stripped you of status. Why?”
She tried to edge away from him. She hadn’t expected this, and surely Del-Rey hadn’t either. That the Breeds who followed him would suspect she had done something to harm them.
She could feel the fear clogging her throat now. Jax wouldn’t hesitate to take her throat out. Suspicion was as good as proof to the Coyote Breeds. And Del-Rey had provided them with plenty of suspicion.
She was nearly at the corner of the counter, almost far enough away to escape him, when he grabbed her wrist and jerked her back.
Agony streaked through her at his touch. She barely held back her scream as he jerked her back into place, and released her just as quickly. Her hip slammed into the counter as she drew in a hard, pain-filled breath.
“You aren’t screaming in agony, Anya,” he pointed out. “Are you even his mate? What? Did you play the alpha’s guilt and somehow convince him he was your mate?”
There was no meanness; there was determination. Jax was convinced she was a threat, and in his eyes, he was doing what needed to be done.
“Please, Jax,” she whispered. “Ask your alpha. Don’t do this.”
“You think because he still likes f**king you that you can convince him to cover for you?” Jax snorted. “Answer the damned question, bitch. What did you do?”
She shook her head, then waited until he moved and tried to run.
A dirty kitchen was a dangerous kitchen. There was a fine film of flour or maybe sugar on the floor. Her foot slid as he caught her by the hair, throwing them both off balance. She found herself thrown again, this time against the wall. Her head struck the stone, her wrist bent against it painfully as she cried out and tried to keep herself from falling.
She managed to find her feet, jerking around only to stop, eyes wide at the sight of Cavalier and Ashley. Cavalier’s knife was against Jax’s jugular, Ashley stood at his back, a long, wickedly sharp knife in each hand as she faced off against three of Jax’s teammates who had run into the kitchen as well.
“No. Cavalier. Stop.” She stumbled across the room, nearly falling as she realized she had managed to somehow bruise her leg. There was blood on her jeans, a slice across the material.
Cavalier snarled in Jax’s face as the knife bit into the other Breed’s neck.
“Coya, return to your rooms.” Cavalier’s voice was an echo of death.
Anya inhaled roughly as the other Breeds turned to her, their expressions hard, suspicious, accusing. She wasn’t coya, yet the Russian Coyotes refused to accept the alpha’s directive. Refused the loyalty they swore to him.
“Back up, Brazon,” Ashley snarled as one of the pack leaders tried to edge closer. “I’m hell with this blade, you should remember that.”
Brazon stopped, his amber eyes measuring his chances before he turned to Anya.
“Cavalier,” Anya whispered hoarsely. “You once swore you owed me for your life.”
Cavalier growled furiously. “Don’t.”
“You owe me his life.” Her breathing hitched painfully. “Swear to me you’ll let him go. I’ll leave the room, but you swear to me you won’t harm him.” His pride was fierce. If she made him back down while she was there, he would suffer for it. His pride, his sense of honor, would suffer.
“He struck against his coya,” Cavalier snarled.
“I’m not his coya.” The first tear fell. “Please, Cavalier. Swear it.”