Author: J.D. Tyler

"Nice," she said. "I prefer the old ones, though."

"Me, too, but old muscle cars are for people who have a lot of time to tinker with maintenance, and I'm not that handy in the garage."

"You'll have to show it to me sometime."

"I will."

The six of them chattered all the way to the Grizzly, Ryon's friends asking Daria about herself. They were especially curious about her job, and thought it was cool that she studied real-life wolves. They stayed away from the subject of her being turned into a shifter, however, and for that he was grateful. He was working on getting her to embrace that side of herself, and didn't need them stressing her out.

The bar was hopping when they arrived, but not too crowded. Ryon and the other guys found an unoccupied corner and pushed several tables together to give them plenty of room, then seated their ladies and elbowed in. Ryon sat beside his mate and put an arm around her, pleased when she leaned into him comfortably. After watching three of his friends pair off and being nagged by envy for months, it was awesome to have his own woman at his side.

After ordering a round of drinks, they settled in, laughing and talking to those in their immediate vicinity. Ryon couldn't keep the smile off his face. His friends seemed to genuinely like Daria, and were very welcoming, making sure she was included in the conversation. She, in turn, got along well with them. Especially Blue and Noah, both of whom she seemed to be a bit sweet on. He wasn't bothered, though. He and his wolf knew Daria belonged to them.

They had a great time, eating, drinking, and making merry as one hour became two, then three. The evening out was a hit-until two seedy-looking men approached their table. The newcomers zeroed in on Kalen, eyes narrowed. Not everyone noticed them at first. But Ryon did, and he set the nacho he'd been munching on down on his plate, wiping his hands. Then he scooted his chair back a little, ready to spring into action if he needed to.

Jax and Hammer noticed the men, and did the same. One by one, the Pack became aware of the tension, and the lighthearted talk stopped. By now, Kalen was leaning back in his chair, sneering at the two rough, dirty men. Clearly, they'd met.

"Hello," Kalen said with deceptive pleasantness. "You guys didn't learn your lesson before? Back for more?"

Well, crap. Just what they needed, Kalen's hillbilly tormentors of a few weeks ago coming around to spoil their evening.

One of them spoke up, showing an unfortunate set of bad teeth. "Our friend Billy seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. We been lookin' for ya for a while now, figured you might shed some light on where he's at." For emphasis, he spit out of the side of his mouth-and the wad landed in the middle of Mac's salad.

Kalen's poor mate stared at the food, paling. Kalen's chair scraped on the floor, and he stood.

The Sorcerer was an imposing sight in his black leather duster, raven hair falling around the green kohl-rimmed eyes glittering with cool anger. Only an idiot would've messed with a man like him, and Ryon knew these two more than qualified.

"Why would I know anything about Billy?"

The two assholes had no clue that their stupid buddy had ended up as demon food, literally-Malik ate him. Kalen knew damned well what fate had befallen the town's most unsavory character, and he wasn't sorry.

"'Cause you fought with him right here in this bar. You had reason to want him gone," the man said in a nasty tone.

"From what I hear, so did half the county." Kalen cocked his head. "Billy was a thief, a liar, a bully, and he physically abused his family. I don't know anybody else who's all that concerned about him."

"I think you're a liar! Why don't you step outside so me and my buddy can kick your ass!"

At that, Ryon and his Pack friends stood. Ryon grinned. "Well, as long as you want to make it an unfair fight, you two can take on all of us. Sound good?"

The men stepped backward, not looking so eager in the face of those odds. Ryon knew how they must look, a wall of muscle against two scrawny dickheads.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

Ryon had never been so glad to see the sheriff. Deveraux stomped up to the group and took in the standoff. Waving a hand at the two miscreants, he boomed, "You two? You're banned from the Grizzly, you idiots! Get the hell out of here before I haul you in for disturbing the peace, public intoxication, and anything else I can think of."

"But, Sheriff-"

"Get out!"

Muttering, the pair shot Kalen a glare before shuffling for the door. Once they were gone, Deveraux shook his head and frowned at their group. "Once again, you people are in the middle of the shit. I'm going to have an ulcer the size of a fucking watermelon in no time flat. And you." He pointed at Daria, then at a man across the bar before continuing.

"See that guy in the booth over there? He's a reporter for the local paper, and he'd love to interview you about the body you found, not to mention who your friends are and what the hell you're doing with them. You want my advice-and nobody fucking appears to-I'd get going before he notices you're here and he gives us all a buttload of publicity nobody can afford."

Immediately, Ryon felt stupid for bringing her out. "Sorry, Sheriff. I assumed their interest in Daria had died down enough that it wouldn't be a problem."

The older man looked exasperated. "It might have if mangled bodies would stop turning up. As it is, you might want to get lost. Because here the little buzzard comes."

The buzzard being the reporter, with a nice camera in hand and a gleam in his eye.

"Shit." Ryon held out his hand for his mate, and she took it. "Come on, baby. Anyone else leaving?"

"Me and Mac," Kalen said. "If my mate is ready."

Mac nodded and rose from her chair, giving her salad a glare of disgust. "I am."

"You guys go on," Jax told Ryon. "The rest of us will be back soon."

Ryon pulled Daria toward the door, ignoring the reporter's calls to wait. He wasn't about to subject his mate to any publicity, especially when it could harm her or his team in the long run. On the way out, he saw a flash, and cursed. That's all they needed, pictures of the Pack out there in circulation and perhaps ending up in the wrong hands. He hoped the sheriff or one of the guys confiscated them.

In less than a minute, they were on the road, heading back to the compound. Ryon threw his mate a look of apology. "I'm sorry, honey. I wanted you to get out and have fun."

"I did," she said, smiling at him. "It's nobody's fault that reporter was there, and we were going to leave soon anyway."

"I'm sorry about the two assholes," Kalen put in. "I had trouble with them and a friend of theirs before."

Daria glanced back at him and Mac. "People like them live to cause trouble, and they never learn. It's not a problem."

They talked the rest of the way, Kalen sharing some of his experiences as a Necromancer while Daria listened in rapt fascination. When the Sorcerer offered to let her sit in on a session sometime, she declined with a laugh.

"Oh, I don't think talking to dead people are my thing. I'd love to see some magic, though."

"Anytime."

At the compound, Ryon parked the SUV in the hangar and they said good night to the other couple, who walked off whispering quietly, Kalen's arm securely around his mate. Ryon took Daria's hand.

"Stay with me tonight?" His chest tightened as she weighed her answer. Then the band loosened when she smiled.

"I would love to."

And so, he ended a near-perfect evening with his mate wrapped in his arms.

He couldn't think of a damned thing that made him happier.

. . .

Daria awoke to two sharp points grazing her neck. Lips nibbling. As the fog lifted she squirmed and swatted at the minor irritation. A masculine chuckle rumbled in her ear, and the nibbling continued. More scraping. Awareness kicked in and she realized those were his canines, and little tendrils of pleasure began to spread through her body.

"Wake up, beautiful," Ryon sang. "Rise and shine."

"Ugh."

"Not a morning person?"

Giving up, she rolled over and peered up at his smug face. "Used to moving when I'm good and ready."

"Too bad. We have to eat breakfast. Then we're going for a run." He kissed her nose. "Unless you're backing out?"

"Are you kidding? I'm not a coward, my mate. I don't wimp out once I've made up my mind about something."

"Good for you," he said in approval. "Hungry?"

"I could eat."

"I've got a few MREs in the kitchen . . ." He tossed her a grin as he rose from the bed. Naked.

"Ha, you're a funny guy." She eyed his tight ass, disappointed when he pulled on a loose pair of shorts.

"Just teasing. I can cook, as you know."

"That you can, and you do a fine job. What am I getting?"

"Hmm. Omelets and toast?"

Her mouth watered. "That sounds great."

Forcing herself from his cozy, king-sized bed, she put on her jeans and shirt from the night before and padded after him into the kitchen. She observed her mate appreciatively as he went about getting out the stuff for their breakfast, shirtless and more scrumptious than any food.

"You like ham and cheese?" Opening a package of meat, he sniffed. "It's still good."

"Sure. I like just about anything that goes in an omelet."

"Then you're in luck, because I make the best ones in the whole compound."

He wasn't joking. Gesturing for her to sit on a stool at the bar, he got out bell peppers, onions, salsa, and mushrooms to go with the ham and cheese. Next, he poured two glasses of orange juice-which he then topped off with champagne.

"Mimosas?" she asked in delight. "You're going to spoil me rotten."

"That's the whole point. You deserve to be spoiled."

As she sipped her mimosa, he chopped the veggies and dumped them into a pan with melted butter. The delicious aroma filled the small kitchen and made her stomach rumble. He stirred them, refilled her drink, and then began beating the eggs, adding a bit of milk.

"To make them fluffy," he explained.

Yes, indeed. She could get used to having Ryon spoil her. In every way.

In two larger pans, he poured the eggs so he could make them both at the same time. Soon the sauteed veggies were added, then the cheese and ham. Slicing four thick pieces of sourdough bread, he shoved them in the toaster.

In minutes, he was ushering her into a breakfast nook seat at the table by the patio door, where he served their plates with finesse.

"My lady, your breakfast."

"Oh my God, this smells awesome."

"Tastes even better."

At his pointed look, she picked up her fork and took a bite. "This is wonderful. You're going to do all the cooking in this relationship, right?" Instantly, she realized what she'd said, as well as the significance-she was coming to accept their mating. What's more, she was truly enjoying her mate.

So did he, and he gave her a soft smile as he sat. "You bet. As long as you're mine, I'll cook whatever you want. Whenever you want."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I hope you do."

When they were finished eating, she helped him clear the table and wash the dishes. Finally done, he turned to her and wiped his hands on a towel.

"Since we're going to shift and go play, I suggest we shower later."

"Sounds good." Secretly she was dreading the actual shifting process, and he must've seen a hint of her sudden anxiety.

"Hey, I told you it would be okay, and I meant it," he said, taking her hands. "I wouldn't lie to you."