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  He told himself he didn’t care. He’d slept with fancy rich ladies before looking for a rough tumble before going back to their boring lives in the city. This shouldn’t be any different. Then why was there a pain in his chest lodged so deeply he couldn’t breathe?

  The thoughts were consuming him, driving the need to see her again. But the next day, she didn’t come back to work either. He stalked the garage looking for signs of her car, but it was nearly five o’clock, and she still hadn’t show up. What was going on?

  He marched to the elevator, hoping to take it to the command room to find some answers, but someone was already waiting inside.

  “Delacroix, there you are.” It was Wyatt Creed, dressed in one of his fancy suits, arms crossed over his chest.

  “What do you want?”

  He stared at Delacroix in his usual haughty manner. “Meeting in my office, now. Let’s go.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “No.”

  Fuck this fils-putain. He had half a mind to tell him to pound sand, but Wyatt gave him an impatient “don’t fuck with me” look that reminded him of Sebastian Creed. Though Wyatt wasn’t a dragon like his father, Delacroix didn’t underestimate him. The quiet ones were always the ones to watch out for.

  When they reached central operations, Wyatt motioned to follow him to his office. When he stepped inside, he was surprised to find that it wasn’t empty as two people were already waiting inside.

  “Hello, Delacroix.” Vrost’s ice blue eyes pierced right into him. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

  “Al Doilea,” he said in a mocking voice as he used the Beta’s traditional honorific.

  “Actually, you should be calling me that.” Astrid Jonasson-Vrost grinned at him. He remembered the young woman as she was also Queen Desiree’s best friend. “I’m Beta now. Officially.”

  “Well, you’re certainly a more welcome and lovely sight than your predecessor,” he replied, then turned to Vrost. “Why didn’t you invite me to your retirement party?”

  Vrost snorted. “I just came here to give you the news personally. Just so you know it’s official.”

  “What news?”

  “You’ve been reassigned, Delacroix. From this point on, you’ll officially be part of the Lycan Security Force of New York, and you’ll be guarding the Alpha.”

  Reassigned? But how—wait. Mika. Had he forgotten her end of the bargain? She promised him a cushy job and a chance to shorten his sentence.

  “You don’t look happy,” Vrost remarked.

  “I’m crying with tears of joy on the inside,” he said sarcastically. “When do I begin?”

  “As soon as possible,” Astrid stated. “We can’t let the mages get Lucas. If they capture him and get his blood, it could mean the end. With your powers, you could easily hide him in the shadows, right? And no one would find you guys?”

  He nodded. “Yes, that’s how it works. But doesn’t the Alpha have adequate protection?”

  Vrost’s eyes glinted like hard flint. “From what we’ve learned, even if they had all three artifacts, the mages still need his or Adrianna’s blood to activate whatever spell they’re planning to use. We need to make sure that we have a way to take him out of the equation if that ever happens.”

  “Sounds like a brilliant plan.” Delacroix could bet who came up with that one. Speaking of which … “So, the boss lady’s fine with that? Should I go and give her my farewell?”

  “Mika?” The female’s nose wrinkled. “Oh, you won’t have time for that. Besides she’s not going to be back anytime soon.”

  The information hit him like a ton of bricks slamming into his chest. “Not going to be back soon?”

  “Yup.” Her head bobbed up and down. “Things got too hairy in Russia, and she had to step in before we lost the alliance. Took the first plane out to Moscow this morning. Don’t know when she’ll be back, but if I know Mika, she won’t come back until the job’s done.”

  “Yeah, definitely,” he managed to croak out before the pain in his chest dug deeper. “She certainly finishes what she starts.”

  Chapter Eight

  JFK International Airport was busier than usual. Perhaps the unseasonably warm winter weather was an incentive for tourists to flock to New York. The international arrivals was packed to the gills, and weary travelers trudged along the lines into the immigration booths.

  “Welcome back to the United States, Ms. Westbrooke,” the immigration officer said as he stamped the passport on his desk. “I’m sure after three months, you’re happy to be back.”

  “I am,” Mika answered automatically. “I can’t wait to eat some bagels and cream cheese.” And maybe some pizza. And Chinese food. God, she didn’t know if it was the baby or being back in New York, but the moment the plane landed, all she could think about was food.

  The officer slid her passport back to her and laughed. “Go on then. After a long flight, you’re probably cranky and starving for a real meal. My wife was the same with each kid we had.”

  Realizing his gaze had briefly slid down to her growing belly, she quickly wrapped her coat around her. “Thank you, sir,” she grumbled as she walked away. Didn’t he know it was rude to remark on a woman’s pregnancy unless her condition was explicitly stated?

  Still it was a reminder for her to be careful. No one in the States knew about her pregnancy yet. In fact, the entire time in Russia, she had worked to conceal it too. It had worked for the first few weeks, but Natalia Ivanova had definitely remarked on it. The Russian Alpha had simply shrugged and said it was fairly obvious to anyone who’d been pregnant and that if she was trying to hide it, she had to do a better job. Rude, yes, but when you were Alpha of a clan of over a hundred Lycans, you could pretty much say anything you want.

  An involuntary smile spread across her lips. Despite her tough-as-nails exterior, Natalia had a soft inside that she rarely showed to anyone. While most people thought of her as a bitch, Mika knew that she had no choice but to be one. Otherwise, no one would take her seriously or follow her orders, which would cause chaos within her clan. The negotiations with New York had been tough, if only to show her Lycans that she would not cower to any other clan. Meanwhile, Mika’s presence in Moscow was a sign that New York was serious about the alliance. She had pleaded their case, telling them about the skirmishes and battles she’d personally fought in the war against the mages, which seemed to have earned the respect of the Russian Lycans and earned New York their much-needed alliance. In the next few weeks, they could start making plans to infiltrate the mage stronghold outside Moscow, which would be a big win for the Lycans.

  Truth be told, she could have gone home after three weeks, maybe even two. But it was Natalia who kept the negotiations going, strangely, after remarking on Mika’s pregnancy. Had the other woman sensed her hesitation in going back to America? If that was the case, then she was grateful to her.

  The last three months had allowed her to enjoy her pregnancy in peace, before the proverbial shit hit the fan. Her parents were already pissed that she missed Christmas and would be livid when they found out she kept her pregnancy a secret. They’d be happy about the baby but then they’d ask all kinds of questions. She was already dreading answering them.

  Another reason she was glad for the distance was that with half a world between them, she wouldn’t have to see Delacroix. Leaving that hotel room had been difficult, and she knew if she saw him again, that longing in her chest would never go away. She couldn’t bear to be near him anymore, especially not when they acted like nothing happened between them. And certainly not when he eventually went back to his playboy ways and flirted with other females.

  Surely by now, if she did see him again, her body wouldn’t react the same way. It wouldn’t ache for him as badly as it did the first few days, and she could act normal around him. And maybe her she-wolf too, wouldn’t want to see him so badly. In the first few days, it had been a difficult to manage; if it wasn’t moping around and sad, it was
angry at her. Only when she reminded her animal that they had to take care of their pup now, and that was the most important thing in the world now, did it calm down. Her wolf became extra protective of her, and was distracted enough with keeping their pup safe that it didn’t whine or rage at her for leaving Delacroix behind in New York.

  Now that he was assigned to Lucas’s security detail, there were less chances of seeing him. Hell, she could access his schedule anytime and make sure they never bumped into each other. Everything could stay exactly as they did now, with them living separate lives.

  Though Lucas had offered to send a car to fetch her, she declined, saying it was easier to take a cab. She had asked him not to mention to her parents or siblings that she was flying back tonight, as one of them would insist on coming to get her. Dad or Nathan probably wouldn’t notice, and Amanda or Knox would just shrug, but if her mother came, she would know something was up. And after flying for sixteen hours, she wasn’t ready for that yet.

  The cab stopped just outside the main entrance of The Enclave, and she accepted her suitcase from the driver with a warm thanks. She struggled to roll the suitcase along as she headed toward the glass doors. It was heavy because of all the damned souvenirs Natalia had insisted she take, and it fell over as it hit a crack in the pavement. “Fucking hell.” As she bent down to pick up her suitcase, she stopped short when she felt the back of her neck prickle.

  “Welcome back, cher.”

  She stood there, frozen to the spot. Slowly, she looked up to face him. Delacroix leaned by the building entrance; arms crossed over his chest. His hair had gotten slightly longer, and his beard was thicker too. He looked straight at her with those dark eyes. Ignoring the way her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of him and her wolf’s frantic, longing howls, she managed to speak. “How did you know?” She had been so careful, even opting to fly commercial instead of having the Fenrir jet pick her up in case he somehow got wind of her arrival.

  “That you were coming home tonight?” That lazy smile spread across his handsome face, but she didn’t let it fool her into letting her guard down, not when she could clearly see the hardness in his eyes. “I was in the car when the Alpha picked up your call.”

  Damn it! Talk about bad luck. She should have sent an email. “All right, then. I’m tired, and I’m going home.”

  “I didn’t figure you for a coward, Mika.”

  “Coward?” Her shoulders tensed up. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Were you so afraid to face me that morning that you had to put half a world between us?” He stalked toward her with ground-eating steps.

  “Excuse me?” she shot back. “Did you think I was going to back out on our deal? You did your part, and I made sure you got transferred, right? That’s what you wanted.”

  “My part?” he said incredulously. “Our deal? You think that’s what I was thinking of? What’s been hauntin’ me these last months? Why I’m here?”

  “It’s not?” Her heart pounded in her chest. “Then why the hell are you here, Delacroix?”

  “You fool.” He grabbed her arm. “I—”

  A loud bang sounded right by her ear, followed by exploding concrete a split second later. Gunshot.

  “What the—” Another shot rang out, and she howled as pain shot right in the center of her back. “Fuck!” She glanced down at her chest. The bullet must have gone through, because she could feel the wound sealing quickly, her flesh burning as it knit together—invulnerability was a side effect of her True Mate pregnancy.

  “Mika?”

  She looked at Delacroix’s pale face and then glanced down. Blood began to spread across his chest, blooming like a poppy flower on his white shirt. “No!” she cried. Panic set in, but she pushed it down. Whoever shot at them was still out there, and she had to get them to safety. Slinging Delacroix over her shoulder, she darted toward the doors leading into The Enclave. Thank goodness for Lycan strength.

  “Call the medical wing, now!” she screamed at the security guard manning the desk as she laid him on the floor. When his gaze landed on Delacroix, he turned pale but grabbed the phone and began to frantically dial.

  The scent of blood filled her nostrils, making her want to vomit. “Goddammit, Marc!” she wailed. “Don’t you fucking die on me.”

  “I don’t understand. You—” He coughed then nodded at her chest.

  She shrugged her coat off and poked at the hole the bullet made in her shirt to show him that wound had closed up. “Yes, I’m fine. Alive. I’ll explain later. Just hang on, okay?” Oh God, Oh God. It was all coming back again. The accident. Joe. No, she couldn’t do this again. “Please don’t die. You can’t die, you hear me? I swear I’m gonna kill you if you die.”

  He laughed, then winced in pain. “I’m sure you will. Cher, I need to tell—”

  “Stand back.”

  Relief poured through her as she recognized Dr. Blake standing over her. He was dressed in his robe and slippers, his hair mussed, but eyes alert. She scooted away to give him space, but not too far that she couldn’t keep her eyes on Delacroix.

  “What happened?” Dr. Blake asked as he examined the wound.

  “Gunshot.” She took a deep breath. Everything would be okay now, but she had to stay calm. “Must have been a long-distance high-powered rifle. I didn’t hear or see anyone else on the street. The bullet, it went through me, and then lodged in his chest.”

  The doctor blinked up at her in confusion, then she opened her coat to show him her belly. Having been the physician for most of the True Mate females, he understood quickly. “Looks like you were able to slow down the impact, and the wound’s not deep. I just need to take the bullet out, and he’ll be fine.” Behind him, two nurses were wheeling in a gurney. “Let’s take him to medical.”

  Mika couldn’t—wouldn’t—fall apart. Not now. Delacroix was going to be fine; he was a Lycan, unlike Joe. Dr. Blake would stitch him up, and he’d be walking around in a couple hours.

  But someone tried to kill her and unknowingly, her baby and Delacroix. She had to find out who it was and then … well, there was no saying what she would do them, other than it wouldn’t be pretty.

  The shooter probably used a high-powered sniper rifle from a distance, as she or Delacroix would have easily detected anyone coming for them at close range. Probably hid in the building across the street or in a car parked a few hundred yards away.

  She rose up from where she was sitting on the couch. They would be long gone by now, but if she went out, she could search the area and—

  The door to the medical wing waiting room flew open, startling her. “Mika! You’re—Jesus Christ!” Lucas’s expression turned from surprise to shock when his gaze dropped to the dark red stain across her sweater. “They didn’t say you’d been hurt too.” His arms wound around her. “Medical called me and—” He froze as soon as he pulled her to his body. Slowly, his arms lowered, and he stepped away. For the third time that night, the unflappable Alpha of New York looked flabbergasted. “Mika … you’re …”

  “Er, it’s a long story.” It was hot inside, so she’d taken off her coat. Wearing only her sweater and leggings, her baby bump would have been obvious, even if Lucas didn’t feel it for himself.

  The dark slashes of his brows drew together. “True Mate, huh? Well, where is he?” He glanced around, as if looking for someone. “Is he from the Moscow clan? Is he following you back?”

  She mentally slapped her forehead. It hadn’t even occurred to her anyone would think that. But then, it would be a good cover story, if she could just have some time alone to craft it. “Can we talk about it some other time? Someone tried to kill me.” And hurt Delacroix.

  Lucas sat them down on the couch. “Tell me everything.”

  She proceeded to tell him the events starting from when the cab dropped her off. Her voice faltered when she said Delacroix happened to be outside when she arrived—which was not a lie, technically—but Lucas didn’t notice or r
emark if he thought she was keeping something from him.

  “Do you think it could be the mages?” he asked.

  “Who else could it be?”

  “They’ve never targeted anyone individually, except for me and Adrianna. Why would they want to kill you?”

  “That’s what I need to find out. Maybe Daric or Cross will have some intelligence and—”

  “Michalina Jean Westbrooke. What in the world is going on?”

  Oh crap.

  Alynna Westbrooke stood over her, hands on her hips, and Mika was reminded about all those times when she was a kid and had done something naughty.

  Had she forgotten that her parents lived in The Enclave? And that Lucas or someone who had witnessed what happened would have immediately called Alynna Westbrooke to tell her that her daughter had been shot just outside the building?

  Lucas looked at her sympathetically but could only shrug. “I’ll, uh, go and wait for Astrid so I can brief her.” Even the Alpha of New York knew not to get between a mother and her pup. He stood up and gave her hand a supporting squeeze.

  “Hey, Mom,” she greeted weakly.

  A lot of people mistook Alynna for her older sister, as they were not only so similar-looking, but Alynna also didn’t look her age. Though there were crow’s feet in the corners of her emerald eyes and laugh lines around her mouth, her skin looked relatively smooth and youthful. Her hair was still dark as night, and with her petite stature, it was easy to mistake her for someone much younger.

  “Hey, Mom? That’s the first thing you have to say to me after three months?” Alynna’s green eyes blazed with anger.

  “What’s up?” she offered, which only made Alynna’s brows draw together furiously. “I’m fine, I promise.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back? I had to get a call in the middle of the night from Lucas that you were back, and there was a shooting and—” Her voice trembled, and Mika could see genuine concern in her eyes as tears pooled in the corner. “My baby. I thought you were—” Her face froze when her gaze lowered to Mika’s chest. She sniffed the air, then let out a scream when she finally realized it was blood on her sweater. “What the hell? You said you were fine! Why isn’t the doctor seeing to you!”