“Why would they need a mate before conception?” Taber frowned as he picked up several of the reports they had and began reading. “There has to be something they’re looking for.”
“I’m going to assume, as does Doc, that it has something to do with the hormones that mark them genetically,” Callan reported. “It produces the pheromone that instinctively warns off all other men, including those who aren’t Breeds. Combine that with the aphrodisiac qualities and it’s damned hard telling what those bastards have up their sleeves.”
“Anything from the Wolf Breeds?” Taber asked, frowning down at the papers.
The solitary, wary group of Wolf Breeds had made contact less than two months before. It had been assumed they had died in the lab explosions during the attempted rescue, though Taber had suspected otherwise. The Felines had laid the groundwork for contact immediately upon learning of them, and had made certain everything would be in place to help them should they need it.
“Their liaison, Faith, is in place to begin meetings. They’re wary, though, even more so than we were at first. They’re working with the ambassador the President assigned to the Breeds, so I’m confident that will work out well. In the meantime, we have the f**king Council to deal with. So, no, we’re not having fun yet.”
Taber cursed silently. The Council had gotten smart fast. They changed their codes and passwords often enough to drive Kane crazy trying to work them out. Soldiers were being shifted around constantly. Some were no more than distractions, while others regularly threw whatever wrench they could into the diplomatic efforts between the Breeds and the government protecting them.
“We can’t stay on high alert forever,” Taber sighed, shaking his head. “The men will get too complacent when nothing happens.”
“Yet, we can’t give them a chance to strike, either,” Callan sighed. “Kane should be here tonight. We’ll figure out our best course of action and go on from there. But from the looks of these reports, Roni is our main concern. Now how much of a danger will she be personally?” Callan’s voice hardened as he asked this question.
Taber laid the papers back on the desk and turned to face his leader. He knew what Callan was asking. Given her father’s history of illegal and less than savory business dealings, it only made sense to question the daughter’s loyalty as well. At least, in most cases. But if there was one thing Taber knew about Roni, it was the fact that she was nothing like her father.
“No more than Merinus would be.” There was no question of Roni’s loyalty, just her love. “You’ve known her as long as I have, Callan. She’s never betrayed a friend or a trust. But she’s scared, and most likely out for my blood by the time she wakes up. I can’t think she would be a danger to anyone but me.”
Callan nodded. “Pretty much what I thought myself. But we have to be certain. Whatever you think you did to her, fix it. Trust me, an irate mate is more than you want to deal with.”
The expression on his face was so self-mocking Taber couldn’t help but laugh. He knew exactly how Callan suffered when he managed to get on the wrong side of his feisty little wife. She had a mouth that could castrate a man at twenty paces, and if that wasn’t effective, then he slept in one of the spare bedrooms until she got over her ire.
“I’ll have to tell her about her house,” he sighed.
With her home destroyed, Taber knew she had nothing else now to hold onto her childhood or her past. It would all be gone, destroyed in a cruel, merciless act against a woman innocent of the crimes the Council laid at the Breeds’ feet. But she was a mate. Any way they could hurt her, would hurt them.
“You take care of Roni, I’ll take care of the rest of it.” Callan pushed his fingers wearily through his hair.
“We’ll need to make plans to begin building cabins within the estate, though. If we don’t, this house could end up filling fast with the pitter patter of little feet.”
He didn’t sound upset over it, merely worried.
“The children will be in more danger than we were, Callan,” Taber told him softly. “Doc needs to figure out how to control this before it’s out of hand.”
“Merinus went out of heat when she conceived.” Callan shook his head. “She hasn’t suffered from it since, though my DNA still marks her.” He sounded haunted. “She still carries it.”
They weren’t entirely certain how that happened, but Merinus still carried traces of Callan’s unique DNA in her blood. It hadn’t changed her body, hadn’t reshaped her genetics in any way. Rather, it had marked her blood, her saliva, even her perspiration, with traces of the same hormonal variances that Callan carried.
He should have stayed away from Roni, Taber thought tiredly as he glimpsed the shadows in Callan’s eyes. They worried constantly that somehow, some way, the Council would manage to get their hands on Merinus and her unborn child. During high alert times Callan rarely slept and would re-check their security on the hour—damned near every hour.
“I can’t let her go,” Taber whispered. He only wished he could.
“I know.” Callan wiped his hands over his faced wearily. “I know exactly how you feel.”
Chapter Eleven
Roni came awake, bathed in perspiration, her flesh feeling irritated and achy. Her br**sts were swollen, her ni**les throbbing. Between her thighs her pu**y clenched, wept, as she remembered the hard driving thrusts of Taber’s c**k inside the narrow channel.
It hadn’t been the romantic interlude she had always fantasized about. There had been no candlelight, no Taber on his knees begging for forgiveness, instead, there had been blistering heat, intensity, and some unnamed desperation clawing between both of them that refused to be ignored. The orgasm that ended it had blown all her preconceived notions of what an orgasm could be, right out the window. Now, if she could just get him to do it again.
She would have to find him first, though. She looked around the room. Night must have finally fallen. The room was dimmer than before, lit only by the soft glow of the lamp beside the bed. The heavy dark wood of the furniture gave the room a protective feeling. Sturdy, uncluttered, and yet uniquely Taber’s. On the far side of the room a large picture of him standing in front of the garage he had owned in Sandy Hook hung prominently. Several trophies he had won in shooting contests were displayed on the dresser beneath it. Taber hadn’t been an excessively public person, but he had been well known. Well known and well trusted.
She tried to get her bearings, to fight the insidious arousal building in her. He had said she was in heat. That she would be unable to deny him. Unable to deny his touch. This went beyond denial; this was a beast clawing at her womb, screaming out in demand for the explosive orgasm he had given her before. She moaned weakly as she turned to her side, wondering at the tight cramps in her lower abdomen. With each spasm her vagina pulsed and throbbed in accompaniment. With each twisting contraction her anger grew. Taber had done this to her. Where before her arousal and need for him had been only a
hypersensitive irritation, it had now become an agony.
“God, it could only happen to me,” she whispered into the silent room as she stared at the wall across from her.