Page 10

His eyes are no longer reddish brown. They're burnt coppery orange, so vivid they almost glow, with then golden threads spreading through the irises like sunlight catching the cracks in polished stone. The tiger is right there, looking at me through the man's face, and my cougar...

She recognizes him.

This is something deeper, older, and so completely beyond my understanding that for the first time since I was a toddler, I don't have a single scientific explanation.

My cougar knows him.

And she wants him. Our eyes meet, and his are as wide as mine. His arms drop away, and I'm falling. His hand catches mine just before I hit the floor, and he yanks me up into his arms.

For all his size, he holds me with surprising care. One arm slides beneath my knees, the other supports my back, and his grip is firm enough that I know I won't fall again. His chest rises against mine, his nostrils flaring as each breath deepens.

"My mate." He says it quietly. Almost disbelievingly.

I stare at him. My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my fingertips, and my cougar is practically rolling around inside me, demanding I get closer. As if that's physically possible when the man is already glued to my chest.

Before anyone can respond to his declaration, he roars, "EVERYBODY FUCKING OUT!"

His brothers grab the files they brought and shuffle out the door, closing it behind them, and I hear Carrie arguing with them as they force her out of the reception area.

My eyes slowly crawl up his body, taking in the wide breadth of his chest. My hands slide to his shoulders as I lean back, taking in his face. His eyes are still that extraordinary burnt copper, the golden threads brightening whenever his tiger pushes closer. I wouldn't be surprised if stripes sprouted along his face. As he takes me in, his nostrils widen as they inhale, pulling in every breath of me, and I do the same.

His scent is unlike anything I've ever experienced. Cold mountain air, dark evergreens, and something warm and distinctly male beneath it all. My cougar inhales again, practically purring, and I understand why my mother used to smile whenever my father entered a room, even before she'd seen him.

I used to think that was ridiculous.

Now I want to bury my face against a stranger's throat and breathe him in until I forget my own name.

"Cienna," he says, as if the bond is already telling him what I'm thinking.

I don't answer. I'm not sure I could.

He draws in another breath, closes his eyes briefly, and presses his forehead against mine instead of kissing me. His entire body trembles once, in a massive shudder. His tiger stares out through those impossible eyes, waiting.

For what, I don't know.

Maybe for me to stop shaking.

But I can't because now I understand. I thought I understood from the stories my parents gave me. My cougar gets it first. My little cougar rolls her shoulders, unfurls in my belly, and claims Ivan Brusilov.

The alpha.

My mate.

Chapter 2: Ivan

Our harsh intakes of breath are the only sounds in the room. My nostrils flare as wide as my human nose allows. I want to shift. Change so I can take in the full range of her sweet scent. She stares at me, taking in her mate. I'm swept into her brown eyes, eyes so wide they're swallowing her face. Her hands are on my forearms, pushing away but not moving, as if she's as surprised as I am. Frozen in shock.

Mate, my tiger roars in my head.

That's not her name, I answer back. Her name is Dr. Cienna Layne, I tell him.

He growls. My mate. Our mate.

"Mate," I tell her. The word bursts out of me, and my tiger's low rumble.

"No. No, it can't be."

I let her take a precious step back, but also because I want to see her, take in my whole mate.