When He's An Alpha (The Olympus Pride #2) - Suzanne Wright Page 0,71
dream of questioning Tate’s orders.
“It brings Corbin comfort to know that you’re so closely watched,” said Dawn. “He’s worried about you. We all are.”
“Ow!”
Havana sighed on seeing that one of the males who’d been edging toward the bearcat now had the animal literally hanging from his hand, her teeth clamped around it. Havana gave her a sharp look. “Let him go. Now.”
The bearcat shot her a disgruntled look but did as asked. She then climbed Havana’s body as if she were a damn tree.
The guy gaped down at the bleeding puncture wounds on his hand and then stared wide-eyed at the bearcat now clinging to Havana’s shoulders. “She mangled my hand.”
Havana snorted. “Of course she did. She’s a bearcat. You touched her.”
“Really, Sean, you should have known better,” said Dawn, shaking her head.
He shrugged, sheepish. “She’s just so cute and sweet. Or, at least, I thought she was sweet.”
Giggling, Rayna reached up and petted the bearcat’s foot. “I have to go now. My momma’s calling me. Bye!” She used her plush toy’s paw to wave and then skipped away.
Havana glanced over her shoulder at the bearcat. “Shift. We gotta go.”
In no time at all, Aspen was back in her human form and fully dressed.
“Thanks again for coming,” said Dawn, patting Havana’s arm. “And Aspen, thanks for allowing Rayna to play with your animal.”
“Not a problem,” said Aspen.
Havana raised a brow at the cougar. “Same time next week?”
Dawn smiled. “That would be great.”
Outside the shelter, Havana squinted as the harsh glare of the sunlight stung her eyes.
“Damn, it’s hot,” said Aspen. “I think I might go sit on our rooftop when we get home and just lounge in the sun. You up for it?”
“Sure, why not?”
Walking through the parking lot, Havana waved at the two pallas cats who were leaning against their car. They simply nodded in response.
Just then, Aspen’s phone began to ring. She checked her phone screen, grimaced slightly, and then pocketed her cell without answering it.
“Who’s that?” asked Havana.
“Camden.”
“You’re not going to take the call?”
“Not when he’s only gonna yell at me again for not telling him that Randy got in my face at the center.”
“You had to know that someone would tell him. I mean, he works at the center.”
“I was fine with him knowing, but I wasn’t going to be the one who tattled. I don’t want to come between him and his partners, even if I don’t like said partners.”
“I guess I can understand that.” Knowing her friend wouldn’t want to talk about it further, Havana said, “I’m thinking of cooking spaghetti and meatballs tonight.”
Aspen’s brows lifted slightly. “Ooh, can I wangle myself an invite?”
“I don’t see why not, so long as your bearcat and Bailey’s mamba don’t—” She cut off as the pallas cats yelled something from the other side of the lot while hurrying toward her. Havana tensed, realizing Deke was shouting “Get down!” and Isaiah was bellowing “Duck!”
She was about to drop when a crack of thunder split the air. She flinched as a red-hot impact sank into her throat, causing an explosion of pain.
Time seemed to slow down as Havana swayed. She smelled blood. Felt warm liquid on her neck. Would have reached up to prod the liquid if her limbs didn’t suddenly feel like noodles.
There were more cracks of thunder. Hot pain punched into her stomach, and then into her shoulder. Fuck. A gray blur gathered around the edges of her vision, and her devil went insane.
Just as Havana’s knees gave out, she heard Aspen’s panicked curse, the screeching of tires, and the pounding of heavy footsteps.
Havana slumped to the ground, choking on … something.
She couldn’t. She could feel herself fading. She could feel a strange darkness creeping over her until there was just … nothing.
Seated at his dining table, Tate glared at the female opposite him. Ashlynn sat with her back straight, her body rigid, and her eyes hard as stone. Probably because he’d just calmly but coldly reamed her up first one side then the other—and he’d done it in front of both Luke and Farrell, hence the embarrassed flush on her cheeks.
Still furious about the scene at the Tavern last night, Tate had already called in first Eva and then Aimee—both of whom had apologized before he spoke a single word—to give them a verbal smackdown. There’d been no instant apology from Ashlynn. She’d strolled into the room with her chin up and her shoulders squared.