As Tasha once again looked at the gift Onyx had sent her, she resisted the urge to groan. He hadn’t bought her flowers or chocolates—things she could have rolled her eyes at, considering how little thought and creativity would have gone into the gifts on his part. Nor had he written her a soppy poem or a lovey-dovey card—corny things she could have scoffed at. Nor had he bought her jewelry or perfume—expensive stuff that would have given her an excuse to claim he was trying to buy her. No…he’d bought her something funny, something that would make her laugh. Something that Jean was again playing with, making her want to snatch it back. So she did. “Hands off.” “Ooh, possessive.” Jean chuckled and went back to tidying the salon, ready to close up. “I think this is hilarious.” “What’s funny about a Public Toilet Survival Kit?” In truth, the only reason she wasn’t chuckling with her was that she was annoyed—Onyx was being nice, something h
But he didn’t tell Jean you were his mate, a voice in her head reminded her. He’s not proud to have you. “You’re angry that I cooked you something?” asked Onyx, sensing her mood shift. He tried examining her expression, but she was busy staring out the window. His wolf tensed, honing every sense on her. “No. It was sweet.” And very convenient because she was an awful cook and she tended to exist on cereal, noodles, and takeouts. “Then why are you mad at me?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not mad.” “Yes, you are.” “I’m not. I told you, what you did was sweet.” Then why did she sound like she wanted to rip out his heart and use it as a mallet? “You’re mad that I did something sweet?” “No.” “So what’s the problem?” She didn’t answer, just continued to stare out the window. His wolf growled w
Two hours later, Onyx was still arguing with his mother about his decision to hold back certain details from Onyx. Yes, Kate had a valid point in saying that it was wrong for there to be secrets or lies between mates. And, yes, a lie of omission still counted. And, yes, it would be far easier to make Tasha forgive him if he told her the truth. But Tasha was worth the hard work. Plus, he’d never know if she’d given him a chance because she felt sorry for him or because she wanted him—he needed it to be the latter. “You won’t make me change my mind,” he told his mother. “Let it go.” Her eyes held his, staring at him to the point where he began to feel uncomfortable. Kate Loup had a way of making people feel guilty even when they hadn’t done anything wrong. When his dad had been alive, she’d been an expert at getting him to apologize for something when the fault really lay with her. She was also extremely good at getting her own way—usually by
When Tasha had come outside to find no Onyx in sight, she hadn’t been surprised since she was fifteen minutes early. She’d love to say it was because she was working on her punctuality, but the truth was that she’d known Onyx would have to go inside the motor home at some point this morning to change clothes and clean up, and she didn’t like the idea of Sansa around him. Yes, that should be inconsequential considering that Tasha didn’t want to mate with him, but it was consequential whether she liked it or not. How could the idea of her mate with another female be anything but agonizing? Her anxiety and restlessness had given her the jumpstart she’d needed and quickened her movements. Her wolf was eager to see him, to get him away from the other female, and was urging Shaya to go to him. But when Tasha came up close to the motor home, she froze at the sound of two voices talking. “Tasha makes me happy.” “
Missing me? Though she had promised herself she would never, ever, ever reply to his texts and encourage what she should consider annoying behavior, she had found herself responding:Sadly, yes, my aim seems to be off lately—either that or I need a new rifle. Then she had waited in anticipation for a response—irritated about the whole “anticipation” part but unable to help it. She’d soon received one:I’d ask how you’re doing and if you’ve been busy today, but these new binoculars work great—a “must-have” for all intense investigators.And, once again, she was fighting a smile. Once again, she failed. What further irritated her was that when he turned up at the salon at lunchtime, she was pleased to see him. Apparently, so was Danna, because she was immediately at his side, trailing along as he made his way to Tasha. “Are you here to book an appointment, sir, or were you hoping to—” Onyx looked at
Onyx raised a hand. “Three things. One, I never wanted to be Alpha. Two, my family is important to me, but so are you. Three, I don’t have friends.” She double-blinked in surprise. “What do you mean, you don’t have friends?” “Exactly what I said.” “Then what’s Trevon." “A pain in my ass. I told you, I don’t like company—except for yours, obviously.” He truly did enjoy being around her. His wolf, too, enjoyed it, even to the extent that he relaxed slightly when she was around. A shifter who didn’t like company…Yeah, that was definitely a new one. “You do know that’s weird, don’t you?” He shrugged. “I was never what you’d call social. But when I came out of juvie…I just didn’t feel like I could relate to other people. Trevon, sure. But the others…they spent their teenage years going on dates, attending proms, and sneaking out to parties. I spent those years trying to stay alive in prison.” Her wolf
The human smiled at Tasha, creeping her out. “It’s clear to me that you’re Onyx’s girl. What’s not clear to me is whether or not you know he’s an animal.” “Being a shifter doesn’t make someone an animal,” she replied. Her wolf bared her teeth at him. “Oh, so you’re a shifter groupie.” The humans all laughed. “There sure are plenty of them roaming around.” She was about to correct him and declare that she was a half-shifter and proud to be, but then Onyx took her hand and squeezed lightly. She understood the signal: He didn’t want them to know in case they targeted her. Neither did she but, dammit, this jabbed at her pride. “How can it not bother you that he’s inhuman? You’re a traitor to our race.” “And you’re a pedophile, a rapist, and a sadist…aren’t you, Jace?” said Trevon, ending the sentence with a snap of his teeth. “You have a fondness for young boys, as I recall.” Shock crashed into Tasha as the implications of that comme
Huffing, she replied, “Of course I’ve talked to him.” The first time it had happened, she’d nicely asked him if he could turn down the music. He’d said of course he could…but that he wouldn’t and she could fuck off—and all because she’d politely declined his offer of a date. So she’d argued with him a little, and usually Tasha was pretty good at negotiating with people. But this guy was determined to make her pay for being “stuck up” and rejecting him. He’d even spat at her. Tasha hadn’t done too well with that, and her response had been to dig out her baseball bat and attack his car; the amount of noise coming from the house meant he hadn’t even heard her. Naturally he’d turned up at her home the next day, automatically suspecting it was her. Naturally she’d denied it, as time in prison wasn’t appealing. Since he hadn’t been able to prove it was her, the police hadn’t acted. “And?” prodded Onyx