Thunderstorms brewed under my skin. Lightning sizzled and lit me up. Club fucking talk got in the way of our special weekend. We already went through one drama to get Mia here, and I didn’t want another to fight for some alone time with my mates.
Castor sensed the crackle of electricity on the bond. “After our weekend,” he corrected, and warmth chased away the frost dewing my chest.
Slade cut him a glare sharper than a scalpel, charging the air with his rankle.
“He can’t leave the country,” Castor explained. “I’ve put a hold on his passport. Also put his name and photo out to the police, federal police, and national intelligence agencies for international fraud.”
Slade’s growl sliced the air. “I want him dead, not unable to travel—”
I cut him off at the pass. “No club business. This is our weekend. Don’t mix wrath with pleasure. Cancel it and be done with it, if it’s that important to you.”And lose your balls,I thought to myself.
Fuck. I knew this was important to my fiery mate. That he needed to end the threat to the club, to his men, to our family. But I told him I didn’t want the club getting in the way of our relationship. What could Colton get up to in the space of a few days? If anything went down, the Jackals would let Slade know, and we’d cut our weekend short. End of story.
Tension thick enough to suffocate filled the air. Warmth burst in my chest, spreading outward. I never shied away from a challenge when it came to him. Let the battle commence. My heart beat to a melody of uncertainty, disappointment, and frustration, expecting his wrath to come before us… like it was when he left me to rescue Mia alone.
His dark gaze drifted down my body, appreciating and setting fire to every curve. Hot, restless energy drifted through me, eager to tame my shifter’s need. “I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world. Colton Raine can go to fucking Hell.”
All the bravado and fire went out of me. I expected a fierce argument. Chaos, destruction, and flames from Slade’s god. Definitely not surrender. Hmph. I really had this War god defeated.
I tickled my man’s chin. “Good answer, Mr. Vincent.”
Mom and Mia burst outside, interrupting any further chat, and good thing too, because I didn’t want my fiery mate to change his mind, worrying he’d lose an edge if he let Colton get away.
Pitbull and Slash stood at attention like good soldiers on their best behavior in front of the president’s mother-in-law.
“Bye, Mom.” I leaned in to kiss her goodbye. “Appreciate you looking after Mia for a few days.”
“Don’t go, Mom,” Mia whined, hooking her arms around my middle, interrupting us.
Fuck.War number three.
My chest cleaved down the middle. I hated leaving her this distressed. Zethan’s turmoil and Alaric’s reluctance at departing wrapped around my regret and strangled it. Tears scalded my eyes, and I used everything to hold them back. Losing it would upset my kid more.
If I didn’t go, I was going to get moodier, pissier, and aggressive, my shifter demanding her mating. Mia didn’t need to see me like that, and I couldn’t risk an accidental shift, my animals taking over, exposing our secret identities as avatars.
I cupped the back of my daughter’s head. “Honey, I—”
“No, please!” Mia’s arms cut off my breath.
Pain carved at my heart, ripping it from my chest, and I clawed back at my daughter, fighting the two warring halves of me.
Slade intervened, crouching beside her. “Mia, that’s enough, sweetheart.” His stern glare was hot enough to set wet wood on fire.
Mia’s snivel wrecked me, and my throat parched.
Shit, Slade was gonna mess this up, get tough on her, raise his voice if she didn’t behave and make it a hundred times worse. That was how his dad dealt with his son’s rebellion and unruly club members. Not gonna cut it in this instance, so I had to reconcile.
Nothing would settle my baby but Isis’ loving touch, which I injected to placate Mia’s anxiety. “Mom’s gonna make you her special homemade pizza and tacos, and watch Disney movies with you.” Each word brought the level of Mia’s stress down, her teary eyes ceasing, her grip easing, mouth smoothing.
Mia sniffed and glanced up at my mom. “I love pizza and tacos!”
Thank fuck. My magick relaxed her, letting my beautiful, confident, sweet baby girl through.
“Yeah, sweetie.” Mom soothed, patting Mia’s head. “I’ll show you my special recipe.” She tapped Mia’s lips. “Promise you won’t tell the boys, though. They’ll steal it.” She flashed a wink, and Mia giggled.
“I won’t tell them, Granny.” She grinned at the president. “Even if Slade tickles it out of me.”
“That’s my grandbaby.” Mom beamed with pride, wrapping an arm around Mia’s shoulder.
