“In your experience?” Her back became ramrod straight and she narrowed her gaze. “Who do you work for, Max? The FBI?”
He pinned her in place with a cold, hard stare. “What would make you ask something like that? Do you have experience of the FBI? Are there many agents walking around this area alone at night in the hopes of rescuing a damsel in distress?”
She glared at him. “A damsel? How dare you!”
As they sat there, glaring at one another, two strangers brought together by destiny, Mia realized that her dreams of meeting her mate were drastically different from the reality. She had never wanted it to be this way. Her mother had been mated to a distant, violent man who cared about nothing but money and power. In the end, her mother had taken her own life—broken by years of misery from loving a man she did not like, a man who showed her nothing but indifference. And that was on a good day.
Mia had always hoped that when she finally met the man who she was meant to be with that her fate would be different—that she wasn’t destined to follow in her mother’s footsteps, but so far, Max hadn’t shown her any inkling of warmth oraffection. He didn’t seem like he was even capable. He was too busy throwing suspicion and accusations her way. No. He was just a carbon copy of her father. When the revulsion she felt started to make its way up her throat, she quickly got to her feet then did something she’d had years of experience perfecting—she arranged her features into a stoic expression and pulled up an internal wall, essentially separating herself and her emotions from Max.
“I have to get home,” she said coolly. “I think it’s evident that neither of us are happy about this mate bond or really want it, so it’s probably for the best if we forget all about it.”
Max opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again quickly. He shrugged nonchalantly. “If that’s what you want,” he said.
She held his gaze for a long moment then nodded. “It is. Well, goodbye then.”
Max nodded but didn’t reply.
Mia tore her gaze away from her mate then strode off down the sidewalk, ignoring her leopard’s mournful yowl.
Go back to our mate!
Bad idea, leopard. He’s trouble. And those jaguar shifters might be back.
Our mate will protect us.
Our mate let us go!
She raked a hand through her hair as she walked. He’d let her go, hadn’t said so much as a word to stop her. He hadn’tcared.
But whatever. At least he had proven what she had suspected about him—that he was exactly like her father, cold andunfeeling. She had been trying her best to escape one man like that, she would not tie herself to another.
Chapter Seven
Max
Max watched as his mate disappeared into the night, swallowed up by the shadows of an expansive mansion. His heart ached as he stood there, blood smeared across his large frame, the pain from his flank pulsating rhythmically with each beat of his heart. But he was a man on a mission now, determined not to let her go so easily, even if she had made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with him.
Max had to figure out what made his mate tick. Didn’t most shifters long to meet their mates? There had to be a good reason why she had decided to walk away from him, and Max suspected that it had something to do with the jaguar shifters. Her defensiveness had skyrocketed when Max had started asking questions about them. What exactly was she hiding?
His eyes stayed glued to the mansion even as he felt the beginnings of his wound starting to heal, a small consolation that came with being a shifter. Slowly, he limped his way back to where he had first shifted, wincing as a sharp pain shot through him. A passing car honked at his undressed state, the shrill sound startling him out of his reverie. He didn’t blame them—his torn clothes were scraps of fabric discarded on the floor, leaving his muscular, bruised body on full display.
Reaching the spot where he had shifted, he took in the remnants of the rest of his clothes which were strewn about the ground, ruined beyond any use. With a sigh, he bent down to retrieve his cellphone. Fortunately, that at least was still intact, an ironic twist of luck in the otherwise disastrous night.
A sound from nearby had him spinning around, and hisheart pounded in his chest. His blood went cold as he scanned the darkness around him. Could the jaguars have come back? His muscles tensed, ready for another showdown even though he knew that he was in no condition to take on four shifters again, let alone more. His flank throbbed in response, a painful reminder of his vulnerability. A moment later, a small black house cat made an appearance where the sound had been, and Max breathed a sigh of relief, watching as the creature trotted off to hunt mice.
With a grimace, he looked down at his phone. As much as it pained him to ask for help, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He dialed the last person he wanted to speak to, let alone see.
The line rang twice before it was picked up.
“Hello,” the gruff voice answered.
“Carter,” he grunted into the phone. “I need an extraction.”
His coworker at the CIA field office was quick to respond, his voice crackling through the phone. “Location?”
He glanced one last time towards the mansion where Mia had disappeared into, etching the details into his memory. With a final sigh, he relayed his location to Carter.
“Be there in ten.”
