“My doctor was pleased at how resilient our little guy is. Or girl. I don’t know yet.” Carly touched her abdomen. “He—or she—will be strong, like their daddy.”
Tiger remained silent, unmoving. Not even a finger twitch. He was breathing, shallowly, and that was all.
Andrea had been by twice to work her healing magic on him, which was likely why Tiger was breathing at all, but Andrea had said she’d done all she could. Nature had to take its course.
“My mother was so excited when she heard the story,” Carly said. “She hadn’t realized you were a Shifter—but then, you didn’t have your Collar when you met her. All my sisters are happy, in fact. They keep calling me. I had to tell them to stop it and give me a break. They want to throw us a party when you’re better. Yvette and Armand do too, and with the way Yvette cooks, you know it will be good.”
Carly didn’t expect Tiger to answer. She talked because she needed to talk.
“Liam rescued you, you know. Walker got clearance for Liam to go to the camp and see you. Not, of course, for Liam to pick you up and haul you away. They sneaked you out in Walker’s truck. He’s here, by the way. Walker, I mean. He’s excited about you too, keeps saying he needs to talk to you, and won’t tell the rest of us about what. He’s also pretty sure he’ll face a disciplinary hearing, but he said he’s not worried.”
No sound. A light breeze made the shade tap at the window, and far away a Shifter wolf howled. Here, all was silence.
Carly remembered their night in this bed, the two of them learning the wonder of each other’s bodies. Her child had been conceived then.
She thought about Tiger’s hard, male beauty, the way his eyes went dark when he was ready to come, how he held her tenderly, just stopping himself from giving her raw, rough sex.
The feeling of him inside her, deep and tight, with Carly rocking on him, then him driving into her, had been momentous. In all her life, Carly had never experienced anything like it.
In the night, they’d touched, kissed, licked, tasted. He’d loved her slowly, first on top of her. Then they’d rolled onto their sides, Carly’s leg around his hip, while Tiger eased inside her again. He’d liked that position, where he could smooth back her hair, kiss her forehead, slide his hand down to cup her breast.
Now the beautiful man lay immobile, almost unrecognizable. He must be in terrible pain.
“I wish you weren’t hurt so bad,” Carly said. “I’m scared.”
The word broke on a sob. One tear dropped and touched his burned skin.
Tiger made a small noise, a grunt or a sigh. Carly leaned forward, half-afraid, half-hopeful, but the sound wasn’t repeated.
“You told me that a mate’s touch healed.” Carly held her fingertips above his face. “But I’m afraid to touch you now.” She let her finger brush the unburned part of his lips, the lightest stroke. “So I’ll just tell you that I’ve decided I’m definitely your mate.”
No response. Carly touched the corner of his mouth again, marveling that the unburned part of his lips could be warm and soft despite his terrible hurts. “Mate of my heart,” she whispered.
She lay down beside him again, pulling a sheet over herself, careful not to let the fabric touch him. Carly didn’t think she’d sleep, but her exhaustion and worry caught up to her, and she drifted off.
* * *
Crosby slid in through the open window, landed noiselessly on the floor, and had his target in visual. These bungalows were too easy to break into, windows in the upper floors in reach from the porch roofs, handholds galore. Scouting this house the last time had made this entry even easier.
Without changing position, Crosby eased his gun out of its holster.
The woman was on the bed with the Shifter, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the target. Crosby would finish this mission, return to camp, report in, and either sleep or carry on with his next assignment.
He crept to the bed, quietly eased a pillow from the foot of it to use as a silencer, put the pillow over Tiger’s chest, and started to squeeze the trigger.
His wristbone shattered as a hugely strong hand closed around it, the gun twisting away to shoot the wall. The pillow fell and the gun went off loudly.
The woman, Carly, screamed and shot out of bed. What held Crosby’s wrist was the tiger, half-burned, looking more like a corpse than a human. One of his eyes was white and unseeing, the other yellow with rage.
The tiger Shifter spoke, his voice raw and broken. “Don’t. Hurt. My mate.”
Crosby tried to jerk away, and agony shocked through him. He couldn’t draw breath to explain that no, he wasn’t here to hurt the woman. Only the tiger.
The door slammed open, nearly tearing off its hinges, and the Shifter called Liam came in. Crosby remembered what Liam had said about catching Crosby in Shiftertown again, and he felt fear. Crosby never felt fear. This was new.
“Tiger,” the woman was saying, but not in alarm. In surprise, probably because the half-dead tiger was still alive.
Liam closed his hand around the back of Crosby’s neck. Crosby still held his Glock, but he couldn’t turn it or fire it, because his fingers didn’t work.
Liam twisted the gun from Crosby’s inert hand. “Tiger, let him go. I’ll take care of this.”
“Who the hell is he?” Carly shouted at Liam. “How did he get in?”
Crosby felt disgust. If any woman had snapped a demand like that at Crosby, he’d backhand her. Shifters really should control their women better.
“He’s more determined than I thought,” Liam said grimly. “Tiger, I said let him go. You need to save your strength.”
The tiger’s fury didn’t abate, but he opened his hand and released Crosby’s wrist. Without the clamp of the tiger’s fingers, Crosby’s wrist went slack, and the broken bones shot white-hot pain through him.
“You’re awake,” Carly said to the tiger, joy in her voice. “Moving. Stronger.”
Tiger looked at her, then the light of rage left his eyes, and he fell back to the bed. “The touch of a mate,” he said, then his eyes closed.
Carly shot Crosby a look of fury. “Bastard. If you’ve made him worse . . .”
Stupid bitch. “My orders are to kill him,” Crosby said. “He’s dying anyway.”
“Then why try to kill him?” Carly snapped.
“A good question,” Liam said, his grip strengthening on Crosby’s neck. “Do you know the answer?”