"Felines seem to have a more restrained concept of entertainment than wolves have."
Jonas grunted at that, as Rachel sighed heavily.
Jonas's mate was growing used to this argument, Styx was certain.
"I think you're all missing vital mental genetics myself," Storme stated, as though there wasn't a latent quiver in her voice. "But then, you've proven that over and over in the past years as you tracked me."
"As we protected you." Jonas leaned forward then, the danger that hummed through his system placing the animal inside Styx on instant alert. "Do not be in doubt, Ms. Montague, had we known the importance of the information you carried, then I would have been sure to capture you years ago rather than believing you would come to your senses and accept our protection over the Council's certain torture."
"Well weren't you wrong." Storme was almost nose to nose with Jonas before Styx gripped her shoulder and pushed her back against the leather seat.
"Enough," Styx ordered both of them as Rachel merely shook her head in resignation. "She's not ready to believe you, Jonas."
"She'll never be ready." She tried to jerk out of his grip as she glared back at him and spoke of herself in the third person with mocking emphasis. "And she won't make the same mistake again where you're concerned."
He smiled back at her, knowing there would be no comfort in the curve of his lips or the flash of the canines at the side of his mouth.
Oh, she would indeed return to his bed very soon. He had no idea what the hell was holding back the mating heat, the biological bonding of a Breed and his or her mate, but something was definitely blocking it.
She was his woman, the one woman he had thought he never wanted to meet until Dr. Armani had come to him with the results of the mating tests she had done with the blood the Council had taken while Storme was in the labs. He hadn't truly known possessiveness, though, until he held her in his arms and realized there was something holding back the natural progression of claiming her.
He wouldn't allow it for long. Whatever the problem was, he could feel the clawing fury of the animalistic genetics that lurked just below the surface of the human male whose appearance he had.
His gaze slid back to Storme as he felt her breathing deepen, roughen. She was terrified, and that knowledge had his fingers curling as he fought to keep from clenching them in fury.
His woman was fighting to hold on to her control because of fear of him, of Breeds. She didn't trust him to protect her, to hold the danger at bay whether she gave up her secrets or not.
There wasn't a force on Earth that could convince him to give her over to danger simply because she did not obey Jonas's dictates. Nothing short of death would change his determination to protect her.
"Don't do this," she suddenly whispered, turning back to him, her gaze imploring as the vehicle made the turn out of town and headed along the back country road to the mountainous compound of Haven. "Let me go, Styx."
"Give us what we want, and we'll let you go, Storme," Jonas answered for him, likely sensing that at the moment Styx couldn't possibly force that lie past his lips.
She shook her head. "I can't."
But she could. And she would lie about it until hell froze over, or until the Council scientists or soldiers forced the information from her, Styx thought wearily.
Whatever had happened the night her father and brother died had forever altered any trust Styx might have had a chance at inspiring where the Breeds were concerned in Storme's eyes.
She had been raised among them, but she hadn't seen the horror of their lives, she had instead seen the horrors of what they could be, Navarro had once told him. She was brought into the labs and allowed only into training areas, or the cells where the most violent of the Breeds were kept for research and experimentation.
During the rescue of that lab, it was suspected that Coyote Breeds had killed JR and James Montague, possibly as Storme watched from some hidden point. Jonas was certain she must have seen it, based on the terror his Enforcers had scented on her each time they or Council Coyotes became close.
Styx would have to fight that fear to get to the bottom of the reasons why the mating heat seemed to be blocked between them. This was a problem he hadn't thought of. Hell, as far as he knew, this had never happened before. Never had a mate not been mated, yet his wasn't.
He hadn't wanted a mate. He hadn't been ready for one until he'd realized he could claim her.
Now he was determined, no matter what it took, no matter the lies he had to tell, that she would be his mate.
Leaning back, forcing himself to allow her a few fragile inches of space, he gave her what he knew was a convincing, charming grin.
"Lass," he said, forcing the brogue back into his voice. "Such stubbornness is endearing and, I must say, sexy as hell."
She stared back at him in disbelief as Jonas and Rachel narrowed their gazes on him.
"Sexy?" Confusion filled her voice.
"Aye, sexy as hell," he promised her. "I verra much look forward to seducing those secrets from you. Verra verra much."