By the Tail

Quince from that angle, but Jenna grinned. “Leave this to me.” She collapsed to the ground and started moaning.

“Joy?” Quince roared.

“Something weird here,” she yelled back.

“I’m coming. Hold on.”

She might have found his protective instincts flattering if they hadn’t been so cloying. She’d been taking care of herself for years. Joy was the independent, snarky Bermin. Miles the rich playboy. Amy and Melissa, twin beauties who got along with everyone and sewed like a dream. Stacey, the stunning designer with supermodel good looks. Take away Joy’s independence and who was she? Just the untalented Bermin sister.

Despite what her brother and Quince, a man who didn’t like the word no, thought, Joy could and had been her own woman for years. Quince’s hints about claiming her had worn thin weeks ago— she blatantly refused to be used. He wasn’t family, and lately, even Miles was annoying on the best of days.

Quince arrived in moments and stormed past her to put himself between her and any perceived threat. When he spied Jenna, he froze. “What’s this?”

“A woman, by the look of those breasts,” Joy drawled.

“Smart ass.”

She almost felt bad for this. Almost. “Quince, I can handle this. Just go home and leave me alone.” Her cat disagreed, but she knew he was too tempting a mistake to stick around.

“Not a chance. With as much trouble as you’re constantly in, you need a damn keeper.”

Fine. That sealed it. “Whatever.”

She watched him warily approach Jenna, sniffing as he went. Then he lowered his head to nudge her seemingly unconscious body.

Quick as a whip, Jenna stuck him in the neck with the tranq. Before Quince could wrap his teeth around her neck, she rolled out from under him and shifted into a gray wolf in seconds.

Laughing at him, she winked at Joy. “Check you later. Feel free to join us out here if you want, Joy. We could use a cougar to shake things up.”

“Thanks. Nice meeting you.”

“You too.” Jenna looked down at Quince and snickered. “Sucker.”

Stumbling and then collapsing to the ground, Quince blinked up at Joy. “Tricked… me?”

She sauntered over and put a nicely manicured paw on the big guy’s chest. She watched Jenna bound away before she turned her attention back to him. “Yep. I told you to leave me alone. I’m still not sure about you and Lex. Yeah, you helped us, but maybe that’s because you wanted us to help you take Lex down so you could take charge. I don’t know. But I do know I’m tired of overbearing males trying to tell me what to do. First you, then Miles. I’m twenty-nine years old, for God’s sake. When I’m interested, I’ll let you know.”

That said, she leaned down and hissed right in his face. Then, unable to help herself, she licked the small scratch along his cheek.

“There. Now I took care of you,” she said, trying to cover her embarrassing streak of compassion. Ugh. Act like a Bermin, you ass. Bring out your inner bitch. “You owe me one, Quince. Now go home.” She stepped off him, turned tail and walked slowly, deliberately, away.

She felt his eyes on her until she climbed back down the ridge. But her dumb cat hissed at her the whole way.

Quince hated the drowsiness overtaking him. He’d come to godforsaken Montana—his least favorite place on the planet—to collect Joy and get back home. He’d barely managed to get a handle on the pride. At any moment he expected to hear from his guys that he’d been supplanted. He had to figure out how to deal with his stubborn mate, wrangle her home and then squash the last of Lex’s followers before they fucked up the pride all over again.

Despite the mess in Miami, he couldn’t stop thinking about Joy. She licked my cheek.

He purred. Joy made his cat happy. Quince wanted her with every fiber of his being. Hell, he’d been in love with her for years. Then the mess with Lex had put a kink in his plans. But damn, his cat loved playing with her. She ran, daring him to chase. Had she not constantly baited him, had he not seen those gorgeous green eyes measuring him, looking at him with banked desire, he might have believed all her claims that she wanted nothing to do with him.

But he’d scented her arousal—like the sweetest perfume. Even moments ago, she’d desired him. Witnessing her laugh and strut with satisfaction—despite it being at his expense—soothed the ache her void had left. Knowing she was pleased and safe and in charge of her life relieved him. Living under Lex’s rule for even a few months had been unbearable. Quince had been on constant alert, worried for Joy and her family. Worried for the state of the pride. But now, all was well. Kind of.

For the moment.

Fuck.

He had to get back home and make sure he’d contained the small faction of Lex’s supporters still vying for power. But first…a tiny nap. He yawned and closed his eyes for just a second.

When he blinked them open, he saw darkness all around, a full moon overhead. How long was I out? He carefully stood and shook his head, clearing the muggy fog over his thoughts. Then he stretched out his forelimbs and bowed his back, loving the gratifying play of muscle and sinew over feline bone.

“Well, well. The swamp cat is back.”

Quince tensed but didn’t otherwise react to that familiar feminine voice. He turned to see a pair of cougars sitting like sphinxes, watching him with amusement. Dean and Stacey Chastell, nee Bermin—Joy’s younger sister. Two more annoying cats he couldn’t imagine. Dean, a prankster and younger brother to the Cougar Falls pride leader, and Stacey, his mate and diva extraordinaire.

Quince ignored Stacey and asked Dean, “Hey there, Hickville. How’s it hanging?”

All the Bermins were beautiful, but Stacey looked like a supermodel and acted like a diva. Ignoring her was akin to insulting her to the extreme. Considering the woman had done her best to make his life difficult while he worked his ass off to save her hide, he figured she deserved to be annoyed. He sure the hell was.

Dean laughed. “I like him. Damn if I don’t.”

“You didn’t think he was so great a month ago when he was dangling me like bait in front of Lex,” Stacey snapped and flicked Dean with her tail.

Dean shrugged. “That was then, honeybunches. Now why don’t you go paint your nails and lady-talk with your sisters while I deal with Castille, here.”

Stacey sniffed. “Watch it, mate, or I’ll ‘paint my nails’ all over your charming hide. I don’t have the time to maul the rat properly anyway, come to think of it. The girls and I are having a spa day tomorrow. I need to pack.”

The moment she left, Dean sighed. “You, buddy, have some explaining to do.”

“I’m here for Joy.”

“Um, right. So why the hell are you passed out on my mountain?”

“Your mountain? Since when?”

“Since forever. We Chastells pretty much run the town and the surrounding Ac-taw lands. We’re cats. Of course we rule the ‘lesser’ Shifters and the world around us.” He grinned, no doubt imagining what his non-feline pridemates would think of that statement.

Quince thought Dean’s arrogance might just equal Stacey’s. Imagine that. “I know we’re