Mine to Possess

Wary of the cat’s nature, she looked into his face. “Friends don’t kiss.”

“Actually, a small kiss given to a packmate is considered normal,” he told her, “but I won’t ask that of you if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m asking about the things you did before.”

The hugs, the friendly contact, without expectation, without the dark stain of sex. “Yes.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. “Yes.”

His own came around her. “Good.”

Her smile threatened to crack her face. This would work. Without desire to sully up the waters, maybe they could forget the mistakes they had both made and go back to the innocence of what had once been between them.

Clay hoped to God he knew what he was doing. Sitting there on the carpet in Nate and Tamsyn’s living room, his legs sprawled out in front of him, it was all he could do not to groan aloud in frustration. A few hours ago, Tally had agreed to a friend’s touch. What if she never took the step into accepting a lover’s? And he would try to become her lover, of that he was certain.

By leopard logic, he was her friend, therefore any touch of his was a friend’s touch. That bit of feline reasoning gave him space to play with her and slowly, oh-so-slowly, convince her that sex between them didn’t have to mean the loss of everything good. What he refused to consider was that he might fail in that endeavor.

“Sorry I’m late,” Mercy’s voice broke into his thoughts.

With her arrival, all the sentinels-Clay, Vaughn, Nate, Dorian, and Mercy-were there. Lucas sat on the floor opposite Clay, Sascha curled up on the sofa behind him. Vaughn’s mate, Faith, usually attended, too, but had decided to sit upstairs with Tamsyn and Tally today. Clay was a little worried about that. Then again, he thought with a burst of possessive pride, Tally was more than capable of looking after herself.

“Okay,” Lucas said, “this is about the Rats.” He laid out the facts. “Do we accept their offer and give them free run of the tunnels?”

“Would they be reporting back to us?” Mercy asked from her armchair.

Lucas nodded. “The pact equals a formal acceptance of our rule.”

“Big decision,” Nate said, “letting another predator, even a weak one, in on our patch.”

“They get aggressive, the pact’s nullified.” Lucas’s face was icily practical. “They’ll be dead within hours.”

“Strategically,” Vaughn said, “their range is one of our most vulnerable spots-our beasts don’t like it down there. If the Psy learn enough about us to take advantage of that, they could do a hell of a lot of damage.” He turned. “Clay?”

“I agree.” Oddly enough, despite the aggressive lure of his beast, this was what he brought to the sentinels-a perspective shaped by his humanity. It was less because of his genetic inheritance than the fourteen years he’d spent pretending to be fully human. That human side could look beyond the leopard’s territorial instincts. “Teijan’s solid-that’s why it took him so long to decide. He won’t break the deal if we don’t.” There was a streak of honor in the rat that might’ve surprised those who judged him on the nature of his beast.

Dorian began to play his ever-present pocketknife in and over his fingers, the absent movements smooth as white lightning. “I’ve dealt with Teijan-trading info. His people aren’t the best fighters, but they’re excellent spies. Human members included.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one?”

Dorian’s grin was quicksilver. “Something like that.”

“At our initial meeting to discuss a formal pact, they struck me as honest though wary,” Sascha said, speaking for the first time. “Teijan won’t give his loyalty lightly, but I don’t think he’d betray an alliance either. There’s something very proud about him.”

“That a professional opinion?” Dorian asked. “Did you read him, Sascha darling?”

Sascha scowled at the blond sentinel. “That would be unethical. My instincts say he’s trustworthy.”

Dorian shrugged. “Your instincts are those of an empath.”

Clay agreed. Sascha might not have done a conscious reading, but she had to have picked up something that had led her to make that statement. “Maybe you need to have another meeting with Teijan and his people.”

“I’m not reading them.” Sascha’s scowl grew deeper.

Lucas reached up to tug at the end of her plait. “Damn ethics.”

“I’ll go to the meeting,” she said, slapping away his hand but with a smile edging her lips, “and I’ll let you know what I think, but it’ll be my opinion, nothing else.”

“Jeez, Lucas,” Dorian muttered, “I thought you said you were corrupting her.”

Sascha threw a cushion at him. Laughing, Lucas caught Dorian’s return volley. “Stop teasing my mate. She’s in a temperamental woman mood.”

Mercy’s low growl filled the air.

Dorian snorted. “You’re just mad because you drew the short straw.”

“Why do I have to be the liaison with the wolves?” Mercy demanded. “Riley is such a damn stick in the mud, I want to-” She clawed her hands and made feral sounds.

“I’ll lend you a knife,” Dorian drawled. “That way, you won’t get your girly nails dirty.”