But it was his eyes, the same amber hue as the tiger’s eyes, that took her breath away. They were intense and captivating, brimming with a wildness that matched his animal form.
He was in pain, that much was obvious from the lines of strain that creased his brow, but he flashed her a smile anyway, somehow managing to look both fierce and endearing.
“I’m okay,” he grunted, his voice deep and gravelly, a perfect match to his imposing physique.
The sight of him, so vulnerable yet so strong at the same time, stirred something inside her. Her mate was wounded, but he was still the most magnificent man she’d ever seen. And as she looked into his eyes, she couldn’t help but think that she’d finally found a beacon of hope in her otherwise dark world. If only the timing hadn’t been so completely terrible.
“I’m Max,” he said, steadily meeting her gaze.
“Mia,” she replied, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
“Are you from around here, Mia?”
She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’ve lived in San Antonio all my life. I grew up in a house just down the road.”
“Really?” he murmured, following her gaze.
He seemed to be assessing her answer and taking inthe nearest houses, making Mia wish she hadn’t offered the information, but then pain contorted his features and her cat whined sympathetically. She chose not to address the pain. Shifters, especially male shifters, did not like to be thought of as weak—even when they were injured. She’d learned that from her father’s men when she’d been young and naïve, and had actually thought she could make a difference.
“Do you live around here?” she asked.
Max shrugged. “Not too far away. Originally though, I’m from Boston.”
There was a beat of silence as they both seemed to consider the other, their secrets carefully guarded. Despite the unusual circumstances of their meeting, a spark of curiosity ignited in Mia’s mind.
“Are you happy about it?” she blurted. “The, uh, the mate bond.”
She immediately wished she could swallow her words back. It was too soon, too forward.
Max blinked, his brows furrowing slightly as he regarded her. “Are you?” he countered, evading the question.
Mia sighed then gave a non-committal shrug, deciding not to prolong the conversation. They were two strangers, after all, despite the bond between them, and Max’s non-answer was answer enough. Although, could she blame him? This situation wasn’t exactly perfect for her either. Here she was, sitting in the street with her mate bleeding and Mia couldn’t even take him back to her house to attend to his wounds. What must he think of her? Her house was just a stone’s throw from their current location, but of course it wasn’t really her house at all, it was her father’s house.
Mia’s father, with his cold heart and even colder gaze, would never accept Max. He disliked outsiders, and Mia had no doubt that Max, despite being her mate, would be seen as a threat. She kept this thought to herself, not wanting Max to know about her father’s criminal life—the life that she was a part of too, even if she was an unwilling participant. His instincts had been to protect her, even before he recognized her as his mate. He was a good man. She had been raised by an evil one.
“Max,” she began, hesitating before voicing the question that had been plaguing her since he’d shown up earlier. “What brought you here, to this area tonight?”
He appeared to consider her question for a moment before answering. “Just... passing through.”
Mia frowned. His response was too vague. There was something he wasn’t telling her, and it gnawed at her. It figured. He was just as mysterious and dangerous as the world she was trying to escape from. Fate, indeed.
Suspicion stirred within her, but she buried it and watched as Max examined the wound on his flank. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound was gaping and angry-looking, and served as a stark reminder of the very real danger they were still in.
“We should get out of here,” she said, her eyes scanning the darkness around them. “Before they return.”
With reinforcements, she added in her mind. The cartel had an army of foot soldiers at their disposal, and they wouldn’t hesitate to use them to accomplish their goals. After what had just happened, Mia knew exactly what their current objective was—to kill her. And they had very nearly succeeded.
Max seemed to hesitate to get to his feet.
“Do you know why those shifters were after you?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice that put her guard up.
“I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose,” she lied.
Max’s shoulders tightened. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“What would you know about it?” she challenged.
The man averted his gaze. “Just that in my experience, a group of shifters don’t usually stalk innocent people. Their alpha or dominant male would never tolerate it.”
