“No!” My heart slams against my rib cage, and I race toward the parapet. I throw my leg over the wall, but arms seize me and yank me back. “Let me go,” I roar at the intruder.I scan the river, searching for her. There is only the churning, swirling mass of water that is the treacherous surface of the Thames.I can’t see her.There’s no sign of her.Another pulse of worry twists my guts. My stomach lurches, and my breath comes out in pants. My vision narrows. The hair on my skin pops. I grab the arms that restrain me and rip them off of me, then leap for the wall and jump over the side.Keeping my arms close to my body, I hit the water and go through. Opening my eyes underwater, I look for her. Nothing. I don’t see anything. There is a ball of fire in my chest, squeezing my heart. I fall inside myself and reach for the mating bond and find it quiet.So quiet.Fear shudders down my spine. Surfa

I wake up with my heart pounding. Sweat drips down my back so my vest is stuck to it. There is a feeling of impending darkness, of something so heavy in my chest that it seems to get larger by the minute. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stay there, panting. My heart stutters, and I rub my chest.The beats are erratic. There is a sense of impending gloom. Of something coming at me, something more sinister than anything I’ve faced before. I hang my head forward, grip my knees, and will myself to breathe. One breath, two breaths, slowly, in and out. Focus, I must focus. The mating cord in my chest strains and a groan rips out of me. My scalp prickles and I wipe my damp palms on the sheet covering the bed. I know it’s her emotions I am feeling. She’s afraid.When I’d taken her, I had only meant to bind her to me. My only thought had been to ensure that I had someone who belonged to me. Not to th

I race out and onto the streets I’d traversed as a child. The safe house is in the East End of the city. I am sure this is where my father met my mother. Neither of them mentioned it to me, but the thud of my heart, the heavy feeling in my chest, and that sinking hole in my gut confirm to me this is where the two of them had run into each other. This is where my father took her for the first time. For all I know he fucked her in the very house, in the bed where I had lain at night. My gut churns, and leaning over, I puke. I’ve never done this before, been so affected by the thought of my parents, been so tuned in to the plight of my mother. I cared for my mother, protected her from hoodlums in the neighborhood when I came of age…but had always consciously blocked out all thought of how it could have been for them to be together. How it was for her to have run into him, to be attracted to him, to submit to him knowing all along he was never goi

I CAME in from the stables a week later to find Layla whipping up a storm in the kitchen. Seth and John were both at her mercy, her calm orders getting them to do her bidding. Get the eggs from the fridge. Fill the big pot with water to boil. Not that platter. The big one. Jenny sat at the table peeling potatoes. She didn’t look too thrilled, and as she was the first to admit she couldn’t cook, it was prockyably safest for her with a table between her and the sharp knives. While she could wield a scalpel in the operating room, she couldn’t chop onions without disaster. “Where’s your phone, asshole?” John demanded. He glanced up from the sink where he was filling a pot. “You haven’t returned any of my texts.” I checked my back pocket, found it empty, then groaned. “I don’t know. I must’ve left it at Grace’s last night.” The thing

WE WERE NEARING the full moon, but this wasn’t a get together to shift and run in the moonlight. Instead, it was an afternoon picnic. By five o’clock, about twenty pack members were in the field behind the house. Usually, we met in the barn, so there was some shade and a roof in case it rained, but the construction project wasn’t finished. Sawhorses with boards across were set up as tables for the hefty quantity of food everyone brought. From Layla’s and Jenny’s potato salad to peach pie, hamburgers and even homemade ice cream had been devoured. The Barn Cats were tuning their instruments and setting chairs beneath a tree where they’d perform. Some laid out blankets, so they could sit and listen. Others had brought fold-up chairs.Grace sat beside me in a pretty green sundress that matched her eyes and had me wanting to slip the little straps off her shoulders and devour what was beneath. I’d kept as close as I could to her since she