dropped the ball on this one. He’d walked away from them too, when they’d all needed him—and that didn’t come without consequences.

Phane leaned on the porch rail. It threatened to give way. Another goddamn Mr. Fix-it project coming up. “Are you going to tell me just where the hell you’ve been? What was so important when we could’ve used your help? Another set of fists?”

The wolf shifter looked past him, but his face was a mask of impassivity. “Like I told you, I just don’t want any part of this.”

Stubborn bastard. “We needed family and you took off.”

“You don’t know what family is anymore. You think it’s here? You think you fit in with these assholes? It’s just like New York or anywhere else, brother. You, me, Helo, we’re all mutts.”

“Fuck you!”

“No—fuck you!”

Phane heard something crash inside the cabin. Then a female voice shriek, “Hey! Bloodsucking hawk shifter male, where the hell are you?”

What the hell? He turned back to see Dani at his screen door. “Did you just come from inside the house?”

“I flew in from the other direction. Your window was open.”

“Didn’t sound like it,” he said, eyeing her. She looked hot as hell. Nothing new. “What’s going on?”

“Your brother. The water beast.”

His chest went tight at her expression. “What? What’s going on with Helo?”

“Those fucking rogue water shifters. They’re losing their minds. I swear to gods, the faction leaders need to—”

He yanked open the screen door. “Dani.”

“Right.” She stepped out. “He’s been taken by the water shifters. That group that helped the geriatric vampire asswipe, gave him the eel flesh. We need to go. Now. The Water Faction leader is calling a . . .” Her voice trailed off as she noticed who stood near the far edge of the cabin.

Phane nodded at his mutore brother. “This is my—”

“Lycos?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Phane turned to face his brother. “You know each other?”

Lycos just shrugged, didn’t even glance at Dani.

Phane looked over his shoulder at the hawk shifter. “How do you know my brother?”

“Brother?” Dani looked from male to male, then broke out in laughter. “Well, well, well. This is interesting, and maybe even a little awkward. Lycos is one of the males I’m seeing.” Her brows rose. “He didn’t tell you?”

A low, feral sound erupted from Phane, and he leaped from the porch, shifting into his hawk just as Lycos grew fur and howled.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Once again and always, I want to thank my incredible editor, Danielle Perez. The sixth is just as sweet as the first, D.

And my amazing and supportive agent, Maria Carvainis. Thank you so very much for having my back.

My wonderful reader friends on Facebook. You make this job rewarding, fun, and oh so fulfilling!

And to my Girl Writer Collective: Jennifer Lyon, Katie Reus and Alexandra Ivy. 1 Hour 1 K? Anyone? Anyone?

Please turn the page for a preview of the first novel in

the Cavanaugh Brothers series

by Laura Wright,

BRANDED

Available from Signet Eclipse in June 2014.

JOURNAL OF CASSANDRA CAVANAUGH

May 12, 1997

Normally we bribed the cowboys five dollars to look the other way when we saddled up one of Daddy’s prize cow horses and rode off. But they’d raised their prices lately, and today it took both our monthlies to pay them off. Damn cowboys. Didn’t even care if it was my birthday.

“You still coming to the movies with me on Saturday?” Mac called over her shoulder. “It’s a PG-13, but I think I know someone who can get us in.”

I wrapped my arms even tighter around her waist as she kicked Mrs. Lincoln into a full-on gallop. “Daddy will never let me go and you know it.”

“It’s just a movie, Cass,” she returned as we cut through the tree-dotted pasture land and headed down for the Hidey Hole, the swimming circle we’d found and claimed when we were seven years old.

“Not to him,” I said. Mac doesn’t understand my family. Never has. It’s just her and her Dad at home, and Travis Byrd lets his daughter run wild and free. Sometimes it made me so jealous I could spit. Sometimes I felt bad she didn’t have a Mama. “To him it’s me sneaking off to meet boys.”

“But that’s not true.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m his baby girl.”

“You’re ten years old, Cass. That’s not a baby.”

A breeze kicked up, making the tall grass shiver around Mrs. Lincoln’s feet.

“Everett Cavanaugh is living in the dark ages,” Mac continued. “What about your mom? Maybe you can ask her.”

“She’ll do whatever Daddy says.”

Mac snorted as she steered the mare down the small incline toward the swimming hole. “I’ll never be that kind of wife.”

The idea of Mac being anyone’s wife was so crazy, I started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Mac asked indignantly. “Whoa, Mrs. Lincoln.” She stopped at the water’s edge, kicked one leg over the gray mare’s neck, and jumped down into the wet grass.

I followed her. I always followed her. “You getting married. That’s crazy.”

“I didn’t mean tomorrow, Cass Cavanaugh.” She wrapped the horse’s reins around the base of a young pecan tree, then sat down, kicked off her boots, and plunked her bare feet in the water. “But, you know, someday I plan on getting hitched.”

I sat down beside her, but kept my boots on. “To who?”

She turned to face me, tossed her blond ponytail over her shoulder and gave me one of those huge smiles that meant she had a secret she was aching to share. “A very lucky guy.”

“Barry Miller?” I asked.

Dark blue eyes filled with heat. “That dope?”

“He’s cute,” I pointed out.

“He doesn’t even know the difference between a stallion and a gelding.”

Behind us, a familiar male voice boomed down from the ridge. “And neither should you, Mackenzie Byrd.”

Both Mac and I jumped, then jerked around. A few feet up, sitting tall on his horse, Friction, his black Stetson dropped low over his forehead—green eyes as fierce as a wildcat’s—was my fourteen-year-old brother,

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