Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
She lifted one shoulder in a lackadaisical shrug. Honestly, she didn’t have the energy to do more than that. “You’re the one who made a big deal about me knowing your name. Seemed a bit put out I didn’t. Figured you were someone like one of the Kardashian’s bitches.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “I’m no one’s bitch.”
Dianna rested her head against the wall. “Good to know.” The warmth pushed for her to sleep and she struggled against the urge to give in. Even as her instinct screamed at her not to look away from the potential of death, right before her.
His stare lingered, even though her eyes weren’t open, she knew he watched her. Her skin tingled with a prey’s instinct that she was being hunted. Her cop instincts were spot on but having spent time with shifters, she’d enhanced hers by watching and learning from them. Even when they didn’t know they were teaching her.
A low rumble pushed over her skin and if she weren’t in fear of her life, she would have acknowledged how it hit her right in the clit.
“You intrigue me.”
His breath pushed over her ear and the side of her neck. She’d never heard him move but man, did she feel him. The heat off his body, wasn’t comforting. Nothing about this man offered comfort.
But, she didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how out of sorts he made her.
“Bully for you.” She didn’t bother to hide her yawn.
A large hand clamped around her throat, the razor sharp prick of his claws grazed her skin and she slowly opened her eyes to find his cold, soulless gaze on her face. The tips of his fangs peeked out from his upper lip and Dianna realized this was it.
Her luck had run out.
Lifting an eyebrow, she licked her lips, shifted so the tips broke beneath the surface of her skin, drawing blood and said, “If you’re going to kill me, just fucking get it over with.”
Chapter 4
Jeremy stepped in the old building, nose assaulted with the intermingling scent of stale beer, urine, and body odor. Not a favorite of his but this place was a necessary stop. His contact was there.
Or rather would be. Early as per his usual so he could scope out the area, he gestured for a bottle of the local vodka and three glasses. The man behind the counter, rugged with a scar bisecting the left side of his face and where his eye had been, set it on the bar top. Barely slowing, he swiped it up and headed to the far corner where he claimed a seat allowing him to view the entire bar.
His cat raged within him, raking sharp as the finest honed blades tore into him. The beast wanted out. It knew his mate was in danger and needed to get there. To her.
He and his beast had always been a team in the past, the give and take semi-harmonious between them. However, since the second he’d discovered that Dianna was in danger, his cat hadn’t been in sync with him. It didn’t care about finesse or deals.
The predatory alpha wanted to seek and destroy. Protect his mate and take no prisoners when it came to the idiots who dared to kidnap and lay a hand on his woman. Basically, rip the throat of anyone who got between him and his mate.
He swallowed and retracted his claws before he uncapped the vodka and poured himself a healthy dose. Skimming the room, he lifted his glass and tossed it back without hesitation.
I’m coming for you, baby. Stay alive.
Jeremy watched two men stride through the door. His cat growled low for a few seconds as it took in the danger nearing. Then it settled. Even though he knew them, all three were alphas and extremely dominant. To have them in the same room was a credit to the willpower of their human sides.
Although, to be fair, sometimes it was the animal side who behaved better.
Dark brown hair with blondish tips on both. One longish on top and shorter on the sides whose face was clean shaven while the other had his hair shaved on one side and definitely longer on the top, he sported a beard and mustache. Both men were covered in tattoos and he knew their eyes were blue-gray.
Shifters.
All three of them had been orphans together. He was the outsider. They were brothers. Twins. Snow leopards, a creature generally known as “Ghosts of the Mountains” but the three of them had joined forces due to circumstances. He was older than them by two years and took them under his wing when he found them, hiding in the trunk of an overturned tree, trying desperately to stay alive and warm.
As an Amur leopard his kind didn’t generally associate with other big cats. He was larger than these two in shifted form but he’d seen them fight. Hell, he’d taught them some things and they all learned some together. They were his family and while he was friends with Lando Vargas and would fight by the sides of the others who made up The Protetors, the SAR group he worked as a part of, these two were his family. His blood brothers.