“Get dressed. The vehicles are here and we’re moving out. Now. I don’t think you want to risk any attempt I would make to try to dress you myself.”
He tried to make her angry. It didn’t work. She pushed the blankets from her as though the exhaustion that gripped her was painful. He watched as she found her clothes and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
He didn’t hear her sobbing, didn’t hear her crying. But he could smell her, and what he scented clawed at his chest. Somehow, he had managed to douse that fiery flame that was so much a part of her. At this moment, his Anya smelled of defeat. And Del-Rey felt it. For the first time in his life, he knew the taste of defeat.
CHAPTER 2
THREE WEEKS LATER
If there was one thing in Del-Rey’s life that he knew with all certainty, it was himself. He was a Coyote Breed, and as he informed the Breed Ruling Cabinet weeks later, he admitted to some of that Breed’s worst traits. Calculation, manipulation. The ability to look at a situation and instantly size up the roadblocks and dangers inherent in it and find a way over them. He wasn’t a charge-into-the-fray type of guy. He was a slice-their-throat-in-the-dark animal, and he fully admitted to it.
For ten years he had connived to ensure that he and his people were part of the recognized Breed society. He was, after all, a man who liked to be on the winning side. Breed freedom was the winning side. But now, the stakes had been raised. Because of his mate.
Hell, he’d never caught so much as a whiff of information about mating heat between Breeds and their lovers. Who could have imagined that the Breed genetics would turn against them in such a way and would torture their females as it did?
Of course, how else did a Breed have a hope of holding his woman once she learned the animalistic nature that came out with mating heat?
He considered it a trade-off. Rather like the flesh wounds he had ordered for Anya’s family in retaliation for the risks she had taken for six years. If he had walked away and left those men unwounded, then the Genetics Council would have had them killed. It was that simple when a man came right down to it. The Coyote Ghost wasn’t a man of mercy when it came to the enemy. If the Council had suspected he had shown mercy to anyone except the woman he had kidnapped, then they would have instantly suspected those men of having been involved in the plot to free the Breeds from that facility.
Not that Anya had wanted to hear that explanation. She refused to speak to him. Once the Breed doctor Nikki Armani had taken her from the caves, he’d been denied any private contact with her, at her request.
He better understood now why his fury had risen at the thought of the risks she had taken. Why he had put two men on watch at that facility at all times, ensuring that should the Council send soldiers to collect her, she could be rescued.
He’d been too protective of her, and he had known it. His men had known it. They had tread a fine line around him where that girl was concerned for too many years. And the knowledge of the mating heat explained those impulses that Del-Rey would have never risked at any other time. It also explained his awareness, from the first time he had seen her, that in some way, he would betray her.
Calculation and manipulation, cunning and foresight. Those traits were part of the Breed makeup overall, but Coyotes had them in abundance. As well as a healthy dose of near laziness, but no species could be perfect, he told himself. The laziness didn’t extend to the job, just to general life, and he was accepting of that in his men as well as himself. They might slouch on their own time, but they got the job done to his exacting specifications.
Now there was a much more important mission facing him. That of acquiring his mate back from the Breed Ruling Cabinet. Rules needed to be established, he told himself. Anya needed her pound of flesh or he would never have his chance to hold her again.
He understood pride. He didn’t understand a woman’s emotions, but the female Coyotes he’d rescued had informed him rather quickly that he best be learning those emotions fast. They had sworn loyalty to him and the packs seeking the alliance with the Breed society. That loyalty ran deep. They wouldn’t break their word. But if he took her freedom of choice from this point forward, then resentment would brew. Both in the woman as well as in the packs he led.
It bit his pride though. It bit at his anger. For three weeks now he had been separated from his mate, knowing she was in the underground Breed research facilities undergoing tests on the mating heat. Knowing inside him that those tests were hurting her. He could feel it, knew it in a part of his soul he hadn’t known existed. And he had been unable to force his way into her.
The five female Coyotes stayed with her. They were his insurance that if she asked for him, he would know. If she wanted free of the tests, then they would come for him. They reported to him daily, and each day he was told she didn’t want him there. She didn’t want to leave. But he saw in the women’s eyes the proof that she suffered. His mate suffered and he was helpless to stop it.
Now he sat in the meeting room that had been set up for a Breed tribunal, something he was told had never been held in the eleven-year history of the Breeds’ establishment.
A table of twelve men and women chosen from within all species to hear his mate’s petition for separation from him.
He knew how it would end. He knew, and the ache that filled him at the thought was surprising. Accepting the truth and the direction each battle must take had never been a hard matter for him. But this time, seeing the path stretching before him and knowing what must be done, tore at him. It tempted the animal genetics that were never far from the surface, and riled the man with burning fury. The same fury he saw glowing in his mate’s beautiful sapphire eyes. He ached and he raged, and he watched his life change before his eyes.
A petition for separation from a mate had never occurred, not once in the eleven years that the Breeds had known of mating heat and suffered through it. Not until Anya Kobrin had submitted to three weeks of tests to complete the research the doctors needed to created a base hormonal therapy that would control the symptoms of the heat.
She had been warned it wasn’t a cure, merely an aid. She had been told she would never be free of the man they called her mate, but she would have the time she needed to figure out what the hell had happened to her life and how it had managed to go to hell so fast.
She stared at the Breed tribunal from the table she sat at in front of them. Nine men and three women drawn from every species of the Breeds. Wolf, Feline, Coyote. Del-Rey and Sharone were there to stand for the Coyotes. Her mate and one of her dearest friends.