Chapter One
Max
Under the cover of darkness, Max approached the outskirts of the compound, his senses heightened and alert. Fences, walls and fortified gates made up the fortress designed to protect the enemy. It was nothing that Max hadn’t faced before. He’d trained all of his adult life for this, and a little security wasn’t going to come between him and his objective.
Deep within enemy territory, Max’s assignment was to gather crucial intelligence regarding a high-ranking terrorist leader who was believed to be hiding in a remote compound, and it was a task he relished.
Some of his colleagues might have balked at the mission, but being a tiger shifter came with its perks. Unlike many of his colleagues, Max didn’t come from a pack or a pride—tigers preferred their own company—so while the other officers in his department worked well together as a team, Max preferred the solace and self-reliance of operating alone. His lifestyle wasn’t for everyone, but Max had been on his own since he was fifteen years old and had gotten where he was in life through sheer determination and hard work. The way he saw it, he hadn’t needed to rely on anyone so far in his life, so why would he start now?
Keeping low, he scouted around the perimeter, keeping clear of the few cameras scattered around. His eyes locked onto a badly repaired area in the chain-link and he crept towards it, taking care not to kick up any clouds of dust or sand that would give him away if someone was paying attention. He’d been in Afghanistan on this mission long enough to know that someonewouldalwaysbe paying attention at the worst possible moment. His job? To make sure there were no worst moments.
He carefully snipped through the fence, pausing to listen for the sound of an alarm, but as intel had suggested, there was none. He squeezed through the gap—not an easy task for a man who was six foot two with a bulky, muscular frame, but Max was more agile than most—a testament to his big cat genes.
Armed with only a pistol, combat knife, a decade of training, and a few extra skills that he had his shifter genes to thank for, Max moved ghost-like through the compound, skirting carefully around a pair of guards deep in conversation. Every step he took was purposeful and calculated. Max had always thrived in high pressure situations, the adrenaline, and the knowledge he was serving his country in a way few could.
His mission hinged on gathering crucial intel that could dismantle the terrorist network. It was Max’s job to get in, get the information and get out without being seen or heard, and that was exactly what he intended to do.
Some CIA officers would have completed this mission with a partner or a team in tow, but not Max. The way he saw it, the greater the number of men present, the higher the risk they had of getting caught. But it was more than that. Max didn’t want to have to rely on anyone because when you relied on people, when you trusted them to take care of you, they let you down. And that went against his whole not-getting-dead policy. He’d seen it happen to too many people. No. Better he was on his own.
The compound bustled with activity, so Max had to be careful not to attract attention. Part of his mission was to find out more about the inner workings of the terrorist cell and to get visual confirmation of the leader’s presence. Another part was avoiding getting himself captured or killed—and he took that prettyseriously. Max moved silently through the compound, staying low and avoiding any contact with the guards.
He had committed the leader’s image to memory so when he peered into one of the windows and saw four men sitting around a table talking with one another, he scanned their faces for visual confirmation of his target. His eyes locked onto the man in question and his pulse quickened. With the first and most important item ticked off his mental to-do list, Max ducked below the window then kept moving through the compound to try to complete his next task.
When he got inside one of the building’s main structures, he came across a small room that looked like a makeshift office. The room was unoccupied, so this was Max’s chance to gather whatever intel he could find. He slipped into the room and quickly surveyed his surroundings, his eyes landing on a computer perched on top of a wooden desk. Seizing the opportunity, Max approached the device and got to work, his fingers skillfully navigating the foreign system.
His training in cyber intelligence proved valuable now. After bypassing a couple of firewalls and encryptions, he managed to access a trove of sensitive data. His pulse quickened as he connected a secure drive, and as he downloaded the data, his heart pounded in anticipation. As the progress bar steadily filled up, Max held his breath. Any minute now, someone could have walked in on him, forcing his hand, but he was thankfully left alone to his task. Once the download was complete, he ejected the drive before tucking it into a hidden pocket in his jacket.
With the crucial data secured, it was time to get out. He retraced his steps, skillfully evading guards, and slipping past checkpoints undetected, his every move a testament to his years of training and inherent shifter abilities.
Max exited the compound just as stealthily as he had entered it. As he disappeared into the Afghan night, the men inside the compound remained oblivious to the officer who had infiltrated their ranks, leaving nothing but a trail of silence in his wake.
Max retraced his path back through the desert landscape, navigating his way back to the extraction point, a discreet location nestled in the rugged terrains of the Afghan wilderness.
A helicopter awaited his return. Max advanced towards it, his silhouette stark against the amber hues of the breaking day. He handed the information drive to the awaiting extraction team, which meant his duty was finally fulfilled. As the helicopter blades whirred to life, he allowed himself a moment to acknowledge the adrenaline that still coursed through his veins.
The helicopter lifted off, carrying Max away from the heart of enemy territory. The rocky landscape blurred as it fell away below him, and his mind turned to his destination. First the airport, and then on to the place he now called home—Texas. It wasn’t where he was originally from, but it was as good a place as any to hang his hat.
As he settled into his seat, Max cast one final glance towards the Afghan compound, shrinking in the distance. He took comfort in the knowledge that because of his work today, countless lives would be saved. Now that another successful mission was behind him, Max looked forward to the familiarity of his home in Texas—temporary for as long as he was required to work out of the San Antonio field office. As he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, he mused that his life, such as it was, might not have been the life for everyone. Many would have found it a lonely existence—but Max was used to the solitude, and he was good with it. After all, his duty to his country was everything and nothing or no one would stand inthe way of him doing his job.
Chapter Two
Mia
Mia pressed her ear to the door of her father’s office, checking behind her regularly to reassure herself she was alone. Her father was in a business meeting with one of his associates and they were discussing an upcoming shipment of guns, and he would absolutely not approve of her listening in. Her father was trying to re-negotiate the terms of their agreement, but the Mexican cartel wouldn’t be swayed. Still, her father was as ruthless as he was cold. Mia could only imagine what delights he had in store for the Mexicans when they wouldn’t agree to his new terms. She had seen firsthand what her father had done to other men who hadn’t done what he’d wanted over the last [23 years], and it wasn’t pretty.
The problem was that the Mexicans were every bit as ruthless as her father was, and she was sure that they would see this as being double crossed. With neither side willing to back down, they were in for a long, drawn-out battle, one her father was ill-equipped to fight. There would be casualties on both sides, and it wouldn’t surprise Mia if she was one of them. She had always believed that her father’s greed would be the death of her. The Mexican cartel had more manpower and more firepower than her father and she was about to be caught in the crossfire. It was one of the reasons why she had gone to the FBI and offered to help them build a case against her father. She had lived in fear of him and his associates for long enough, spending every day just one wrong word, one careless decision, away from death. It was finally time to take back her life, while she still had one.
Danger approaches,her leopard hissed in her mind.
Just as Mia processed the words, the sound of heavy bootsclinking against the marble floor sent a shiver down her spine. She quickly pulled away from the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned to see two of her father’s guards coming around the corner and striding down the corridor.
“Evening, Mia,” one of the guards, a burly man with a sleazy grin, drawled.
The other, his equally gruff companion, gave a lecherous wink. Their crude gaze scanned her from head to toe, making her skin crawl. Inside, her leopard hissed, but Mia was careful not to let the sound slip from her lips, or to let the men see that she was repulsed by them. Instead, she affected the same cool, uninterested gaze that she always assumed in front of her father’s employees—it was one of the reasons they called her ‘The Ice Princess’. The moniker didn’t bother her, neither did the term ‘frigid’ that she’d heard them call her recently. Besides, didn’t they say that people who listened at doors, never heard good of themselves? Not that she cared what they thought of her. In fact, she would prefer it if they never thought of her at all.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she replied, her voice steady despite the revulsion that churned in her stomach.
The innuendos and the unsavory looks were not new to Mia, but thus far, they hadn’t tried anything too unsavory. She suspected that was because they were too afraid of her father. But she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before someone tried to overthrow him…and what would happen to her when they did. It was a constant reminder that she was never truly safe within the gilded prison she called home.
