That they’d been quiet wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. If anything, the lack of a fight put him on edge. He felt like he watched as the waters raced out to sea. The big, devastating swell was building somewhere out of sight. All he could do was slog through waist-deep mud and try to get out of the way, but survival wasn’t guaranteed when he didn’t know where they’d hit.
But until Jasper, Roland, and all the other fuckfaces crawled out of the woodwork, they waited. Eyes locked on the horizon, chests tight with held breaths, they waited. Rhys wanted to bite every living thing in sight.
“Aw, shit, here they come,” Dash drawled as he and Seth reached the doors of the barn. Louder, he called, “You two have a picnic out there?”
“Fuck off,” Seth shot back. Amusement laced his words even as he glared at his brother. “You’re just upset you weren’t invited.”
Rhys dismounted his dappled grey gelding and gave the horse a rub down his neck. “Besides,” he added, uncinching the saddle, “someone had to do the real work.”
“Funny you should say that,” Lindley said around a shit-eating grin. At least he’d stopped being such a pain in the ass. “We got you a little something in appreciation for all the real work done around here.”
Wary, Rhys tested the air. Horses and leather filled the barn, but the light, teasing scents of the others were unmistakable. He hauled his saddle off his horse and strode for the tack room—and the group gathered in front of the door. Grins splitting their faces, they parted to let him through.
A chalkboard hung on the wall next to the door. Big, bold letters declared DAYS SINCE THE LAST INCIDENT, with someone’s scrawled number six right above it. Below, however, was a cartoon white lion tearing into an equally outlandish carcass.
Rhys snorted and threw a glare over his shoulder. “Assholes.”
The others threw their heads back and laughed.
Rhys shook his head as he settled his gear in the room with all the rest. Trust those fuckers to find something to laugh about even when they all had teeth on their throats.
Still, it was a little funny. And six days was damn impressive. Probably some sort of record, too. He wasn’t the only batshit lion in the pride ready to keep that number firmly at zero.
He stopped in the doorway and blinked down at the beer shoved in his direction. So much had changed in a year. They never did shit like this at the end of the day. If they made it through intact, they slunk off to their separate corners, prepping to do it all over again when the sun inevitably broke over the horizon.
Nostrils flaring, his inner beast let off a rumble as he caught the scent of juniper and fresh rain. Others, too. Baked earth and fur, vanilla and wood smoke, cinnamon, apples...
The mates had arrived.
His eyes automatically found Sage in the crowd. She stood between Kyla and Colette, and flashed a quick smile at whatever dumbshit joke Dash spouted off. She looked... sturdier. Taller. She still stared at the floor too much for his taste when she should be flashing those gorgeous green eyes, but she didn’t hunch in on herself as much as she had even six days ago.
Fur brushed against his mind as his lion sank down and watched her. She’d smelled so shocked when he told her she was on fire, but what else could he call it? He’d spent months watching the little flashes in her eyes. Her outburst that night proved just how much fight she still had in her.
He’d had a mate.
He had a mate.
Rhys frowned at the warmth spreading through his inner beast. The lion’s fascination with the woman was dangerous. He needed to keep his distance and a tight leash on the cat. Getting attached would just hurt them both in the long run. He needed to be thankful he’d had even one mate. No one would ever replace Hannah. To even think of claiming another woman felt like a betrayal to her memory.
Truth was, he couldn’t make himself take a step away.
“You got time to look at my truck?” Seth asked.
Rhys started. He usually kept better tabs on the others, and if not him, his inner beast tracked for him. Neither man nor lion liked being snuck up on.
Both were far too occupied with the lioness darting looks their way.
“Yeah,” he said in a gruff voice to cover his distraction. “Let me get my toolbox.”
Rhys touched his fingers to his brow as he slipped past the rest of the pride and out of the barn. This was better, anyway. It kept his hands busy, and his mind anywhere but Sage.
That was the plan, at least. But even as he positioned himself on the creeper and rolled under Seth’s truck, she wasn’t far from his thoughts. His lion, so distracted before, kept an ear turned to catch any word she uttered. It’d been the same with Hannah. His father finally threatened to ban her from the auto shop to keep Rhys’s mind on his work.
The hair on the back of his neck lifted. Cautious, quiet steps shuffled forward. Juniper and rain cut through the oil and dirt of mechanical work. She reconsidered at the edge of the barn, only to turn back again.
As much as he wanted to roll out and flash her his best smile, he stayed underneath the truck. She was skittish, and skittish animals spooked with sudden movements. He had to be patient and earn her words.
“I saw the new sign,” she said after a few minutes. “Little mean, don’t you think?”
“Eight months, and you don’t see the honesty in it?” Rhys grunted as he tightened down a nut, then rolled out from underneath the truck and reached for the cold beer next to his
