All Chapters of The Maverick Pride Tales: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Annabeth almost died when every eye in the room landed on her. She caught sight of the crimson tint coating Cornelia’s overly made-up face and wondered if her own blush surpassed the skinny Lioness’ blazing rage. Lord knew the woman was a couple of cards short of a full deck.So, Cornelia got embarrassed by the big boss. Oh well, it happened. And frankly, it served that haughty feline right, walking around like she was better than everyone else! Cornelia did not work any harder than the Golden girls did, but she snatched every opportunity to kiss their boss’ furry butt.She’d been that way since they were all cubs in the Pride’s summer youth camp. Seriously. Always brown nosing the camp counselors. Cornelia was forever in everyone else's business.She had a long history of being a two-face, and Annabeth was certain she was going to be the maker of her own demise. She’d gone after her own sister’s mate at last year’s tree lighting ceremony in the center of their Pride’s gated comm

“Listen up everyone, today Falcon Limousine Service is proud to announce the opening of our ninth new base of operations on the East Coast,” Hank Garret announced to the room of drivers currently lounging in the break room. “Falcon Limousine Service Station Nine is officially a go.”He turned to look at his crew, rolling his eyes at the smattering of applause. Fuckers. They were usually a little more enthusiastic about things like this. Especially, ever since he’d given the drivers who had been with him longer than five years stock options.Then again, the mood around Falcon Limousine Service Station One, located in Manhattan, had been a bit melancholy ever since Antonio was dumped by his ex. The Cougar Shifter had been so distraught, he’d packed his shit and left a note saying he was done. Last Hank had heard, he’d gone back home to West Virginia somewhere.Poor guy.“Oh shit, really? That the one by Maccon City, boss?” Carter, a Lion Shifter from Blue Valley, jogged Hank from

Falcons have amazing sight. Gyrfalcons even better than most other subspecies.It was simply fact. Some people said falcons’ reactions were so perfect, so on point, it was almost as if the beasts were precognizant.Not one to brag, but Hank sometimes wondered if he had that gift as well. Especially when he wore his feathers.Larger than his wild Gyrfalcon cousins when he wore his feathers, Hank was a veritable speed demon. Hunting in his raptor’s skin gave him a high he’d never felt anywhere else.Pun intended.It was part of the reason he loved fast cars. He’d tried planes in his youth, but they were simply too constricting. Hank needed to feel the wind when he moved. As a Falcon whose wingspan was over nine feet of pure feathered muscle, he preferred to be the one in charge of his dips and dives when it came to air travel.Driving gave him the same elusive rush he felt when he was in his Shifter skin. The debate was still on. Fast reflexes or precognition.If only there

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.Hank’s brain had been seesawing between the overused curse word and the equally obnoxious, single-syllable word that had been stuck on repeat since he met the beautiful feline—mate.Only, inside Hank’s overly obsessed mind, it was more like mate, mate, mate, slight pause, then, fuck, fuck, fuck.Both words operating on alternating channels of repeat in his now throbbing head. What was he supposed to do in this situation?Really, he should be pissed at Uncle Uzzi. The elderly Witch knew better than this. He was a stubborn bastard at the best of times, but did he have to bring this female into all this mating nonsense?Hank had promised his parents, and that was the end of the discussion, as far as he was concerned. Fated mates had never been part of their infrequent chats. Of course, when he thought back to the cold relationship that existed between his mother and father, he cringed.He could not recall a single memory where his parents held hands or behave

Holy. Fucking. Shit.How could eating be sexy?Oh—he thought as the little minx licked her spoon with her long, limber tongue—that’s how.Hank’s eyes crossed for the umpteenth time as Annabeth ate her dessert with gusto. When he’d stopped for lunch at a promising looking burger joint, he had no idea the place was a throwback to the 1950s, complete with soda jerk and a long list of unusual homemade ice cream flavors.Watching her eat had become something of an obsession for him. He worried about her comments regarding her shape. Crazy female. Didn’t she know she was perfect?Annabeth was not some dainty little miss. She was a motherfucking badass Lioness. A Hunter. A predator. A powerful, sexy, apparently brilliant, and cute as a button woman. She was funny, smart, ridiculously good at putting other people at ease. He’d watched her charm Rosa and Bob, and every sonovabitch waiter they’d had on their road trip—made longer by the unfortunate accident on the parkway.But she wa