in the fact that the threat that once hung over our heads is now gone. We saved a lot of people today. And we’ll soon be able to return home the shifters who were auctioned off in the past.”
Between the things Gideon confessed and the documentation that Vinnie found on the yacht, they’d be able to locate and rescue all of the sold loners. They’d also take it upon themselves to subject their “owners” to whatever suffering they’d put the trafficked shifters through. It seemed only fair.
The people they’d rescued from the yacht tonight were now safe at Dawn’s shelter. Some of them, such as young Robbie, would be reunited with their family members—people who’d lived the lone shifter lifestyle right alongside them. Dawn would also be sure to get them whatever help, support, or counselling they needed, even if they didn’t remain at the shelter.
Tate pressed a kiss to her throat. “There is a lot of relief in knowing the threat to you is gone. And now you and I can simply enjoy being mated without Gideon distracting us. We can even start planning our mating ceremony/welcome to the pride/congrats on your mating party now.”
“We can indeed. We could even start celebrating it now,” she added, fisting his cock. “Just the two of us.”
They kissed, stroked, probed, shaped, and teased until neither could take any more.
Tate backed her against the tiled wall. “Got to be in you now.” He hooked one of her legs over his hip, angled her hips just right, and then slid his cock inside her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Two months later
Havana felt her brow crease. “So, her problem with me is simply that I’m a devil shifter?” she asked, speaking over the loud music.
“It’s not really a case of shifter-breed prejudice,” said Jaime, the Phoenix Pack’s Beta female. “Greta’s an equal opportunist when it comes to hating people—she detests most of the population pretty much equally.”
“Ah.” The old woman had been shooting death glares at Havana all evening, and she was getting on her inner devil’s last nerve. “She seems to get along well with Ingrid, though.”
“Greta thinks pallas cats are much like her,” began Dante, Jaime’s mate, “so she has a lot more tolerance for them.”
The woman sounded like a complete basket case to Havana, but whatever. She sipped from her neon-colored cocktail. As it was tradition for the pride to hold celebratory events at the Tavern, everyone had gathered there for the afterparty of her and Tate’s mating ceremony.
Beneath the blasting music was the sounds of laughing, talking, bottles clinking, and dancers cheering. She and Tate were “doing the rounds,” speaking with various guests and thanking them for coming—hence why they were currently talking with the Phoenix Pack Betas and two of the pack’s wolves, Trick and Frankie.
Looking at Havana, Jaime tilted her head. “You don’t give off the ‘I’m an Alpha, fear my wrath’ vibe, but my wolf can sense how strong your animal is. My beast is stuck between respecting that strength and being a little unnerved by it.”
“From what I’ve observed,” began Tate, curling his arm around Havana’s waist, “her devil seems to have that effect on a lot of people’s inner animals.”
Havana felt her lips twitch. “Including yours?”
“My cat’s not unnerved by your strength,” said Tate. “He finds it a turn-on.”
She lifted one shoulder. “I can live with that.”
Dante took a swig from his beer bottle. “I’ll bet you’re both relieved that the whole Gideon business is behind you.”
“Very much so,” said Havana. Especially since the loners who were sold in past auctions had all been returned home.
“It seemed to take forever to track him down,” Tate grumbled.
Adjusting the position of the little boy balanced on his hip, Trick said, “Yeah, but you played it right—you didn’t waste time or resources on guesses, you didn’t let your emotions get in the way. You remained careful and patient during the hunt, and it paid off. As they often say, slow and steady wins the race.”
Frankie’s brows drew together. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen a slow Olympic runner win a race.”
Trick’s eyelid twitched. “Oh my God, Frankie, it’s just a—”
“Turn of phrase, yada, yada,” the she-wolf finished, rolling her eyes. “We’ve been over this; proverbs are plain dumb.”
“Dumb,” echoed their son, who then squeezed his father’s nose hard with an impish chuckle.
Noticing his aunt trying to get his attention, Tate gently squeezed Havana’s hip. “Valentina’s waving us over.” He turned to the Phoenix wolves. “I appreciate you all coming.”
Jaime smiled. “Thank you for