Page 2 of Brandon’s Mate

Flynn sighed. “It’s not like that,” he said. “But this isn’t the place for you anymore. Your panther can’t handle it. You need your own crew.”

The words twisted like a knife in Brandon’s gut, and he knew then that deep down, he’d been hoping Flynn would ask him to stay.

He should have known better.

Flynn said, “I heard that gang you were running with started getting into some bad shit. Shit I’m not having near my territory.”

“I took care of it,” Brandon said. “You’re welcome.”

Flynn nodded.

There was an awkward silence, and then Brandon said, “Well, I guess that’s it then.”

The alpha reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “If you ever need backup…”

Brandon stepped back, out of his reach. “I don’t.”

“Just call.”

“I won’t.”

Flynn gave a soft snort that was almost a laugh, and shook his head. “You always were one stubborn fuck,” he said. “Here. I packed you a suitcase.” He held out the battered duffel, but Brandon made no move to take it.

Flynn sighed again, and walked over to the truck and slung the duffel through the open window into the passenger seat. “I’m sorry it had to be like this,” he said softly. “Watch your back.”

“Always do.”

Brandon climbed back into the truck, feeling like a hole was burning in his chest. Flynn stepped away from the passenger window, and Brandon gunned the motor and took off.

When he looked in the rearview mirror, Flynn was already gone. But over the sound of the motor, he thought he heard a lion’s roar.

Chapter 1

They said fire could get rid of ghosts.

Also salt, holy water, and pissing on the foundation by your front door. Or maybe it was the ghosts you were supposed to piss on.

What-the-fuck-ever.

Brandon Fierro could tell you what didn’t get rid of ghosts.

Guilt.

Guilt bound them to you harder than the bonds of alpha and crew.

Ask him how he knew.

The ghosts watched Brandon as he crouched on the wooden floor next to the body of Nick Cadoulec, fury burning through his veins.

Three panthers, wavering and translucent, except for their bright yellow-green eyes.

Watching. Judging. Hating.

Which was no more than he deserved.

To tell the truth, he hadn’t really tried to make them go away, although pissing on them was always a temptation. He owed them—for letting them down, for sucking as their alpha.

For not saving them.