Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Quinley skirted around him, careful not to let her body brush his, and pulled open the door.
“Must feel good,” he said, his tone a taunt.
She glanced back at him. “What?”
“Being able to walk away from me like I once did you.”
“That you’d think I’m so bitterly bitchy just goes to show you know nothing about me.” Silently asking the universe to at some point throw him in a nest of fire ants, Quinley strode out of the salon.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this edgy,” said Deke.
Dragging his gaze away from the neighbors bickering at the opposite side of the cul-de-sac, Isaiah looked at his fellow enforcer. “What?”
“You’re antsy,” said Deke, his hip propped against the lamppost. “So much so that just seeing two of our pride mates having one of their usual petty squabbles is putting you on high alert.”
Tate nodded. “You’ve been like this all day, and it’s only gotten worse as the hours went on.”
Isaiah sighed. He was antsy. Had been since the moment Quinley drove off earlier this morning. And even knowing she’d soon be home wasn’t improving his mood.
“If you’re finding it uncomfortable to be out of contact with your little black-foot, that’s normal,” said Deke. “You two have no imprint bond, so there’ll be an insecurity there that translates into a restless overprotectiveness. I experienced it with Bailey. Is your cat feeling just as edgy?”
Isaiah dipped his chin. “He doesn’t like that she’s out of his sight. He doesn’t fully view her as his mate, but she’s still on his mind.”
“Which is what you wanted, right?” Tate checked. “You wanted for his mind to be off … someone else.”
“Yes. It’s a good thing. Just unexpected.” And hard to get a handle on.
“Did you brand each other?” asked Deke.
Again, Isaiah nodded. “I don’t think he would otherwise have acknowledged her as ours. Right now, he mostly just feels protective of her.”
Tate cocked his head. “Any regrets on your part? The arrangement went through so fast I worried you’d later wish you’d taken it slow.”
“None,” Isaiah told him. “Everything’s going as well as can be expected.” He rubbed at his jaw. “It’s stupid that I didn’t see just how well a submissive would fit me. It’s like something’s clicked into place. Hard to explain.”
“I get it,” said Tate. “I had dominant females in my life before Havana, but none were a born-alpha. I needed that in a way I didn’t see. And when I had it, things just felt right on a level they hadn’t before. It bodes well for you and Quinley.”
Deke pushed away from the lamppost. “I never pictured you with someone small. You could just tuck her in your back pocket and carry her around.”
“I’d probably feel less anxious if I did,” Isaiah muttered.
Tate’s mouth bowed up. “That’ll settle once you imprint.”
“Maybe it would have been better to have waited before you branded her,” Deke mused. “You wouldn’t have felt so edgy while waiting for a bond to form.”
Isaiah frowned. “No, it was—” Cutting himself off as a shadow loomed over them, he jerked his head up. A mega large bird was swooping down at them fast.
No, at Isaiah.
He ducked down as he lurched to the side. Too late. Talons dug into his shoulders and heaved him off the ground like he weighed nothing.
Then they were zooming through the air.
Hissing at the painful dig of talons, his cat in an absolute fury, Isaiah unsheathed his claws and stabbed upward—ramming them deep into the harpy eagle’s stomach. It screeched, the sound piercing. He raked and stabbed and squirmed.
The avian shifter dropped him with a pained shriek.
Dropped him right into incoming traffic.
Horns beeped and tires screeched as he hit the asphalt hard. Bones cracked, and his breath left his lungs in a whoosh. A massive impact crashed into him, sending him rolling into his stomach.
He lay there, breathing hard—his head swimming, his heart pounding, his whole body hurting, his blood tainting the air, his cat going insane.
He was pretty sure fine bones in his spine were broken, and one of his legs was definitely fucked up. His skull … Jesus, he’d be surprised if it wasn’t fractured, given the agony pounding through it.
Footsteps thundered toward him, and then Deke crouched at his side. “Motherfucking fucker.”
“Get Helena now,” Tate yelled to … someone—Isaiah couldn’t see who. “Sorry, but this is gonna hurt.”
Isaiah’s vision flashed black as his Alpha and Deke scooped him up off the ground—the movement pulled at every injury, causing severe pain to rack his body. They carried him to the sidewalk, where they carefully set him down.
Within moments, pride mates gathered around him in a tight circle that protected him from any human eyes. They verbally fussed over Isaiah, assuring him that the healer would be soon with him.
They weren’t wrong.
Helena appeared fast, her eyes glinting with dismay as she touched his leg. Healing energy crackled through him, shooting to every wound—reknitting skin, mending fractures, fixing breaks, making the pain gradually fade.