Page 16

Chapter

Fifteen

M orning light filtered through Mia's kitchen windows, painting golden stripes across the counter where Jim stood making coffee.

He moved with the quiet efficiency of someone who'd memorized every creak in the floorboards, every quirk of the temperamental coffee maker.

The domesticity of it made Mia's chest tight with something dangerously close to hope.

She leaned against the doorframe, watching him work. He'd stolen her favorite sleep shirt again—the oversized one with the faded band logo—and his hair stuck up at impossible angles. Her wolf purred at the sight, content in a way that should have been terrifying.

"Coffee's almost ready, mo stór," he murmured without turning, that Irish lilt threading through the endearment.

"Did you just call me your treasure?" She padded across the kitchen, bare feet silent on cold tile.

"Did I?" He glanced over his shoulder, attempting innocence but failing spectacularly. "Must've been talking to the coffee."

"Mm-hmm." She pressed against his back, arms wrapping around his waist. He was always warmer than her—wolf metabolism running hotter—and she shameless stole his heat. "How long have you been up?"

"Hour, maybe two." His hand covered hers where it rested on his stomach. "Someone kept stealing all the blankets. Had to get up before I froze."

"Lies." She pressed her face between his shoulder blades, breathing him in. Pine smoke and storms, with the underlying sweetness of the syrup he'd already added to her mug. "You run hot enough to melt steel."

"Only around you," he admitted quietly, thumb stroking over her knuckles in that absent way that meant he wasn't fully awake yet.

The intimate moment shattered as her radio crackled. "Alpha, urgent. The twins are here requesting immediate conference."

Mia groaned against Jim's back. "What now?"

"Duty calls?" He turned in her arms, coffee forgotten. His hands came up to frame her face, studying her with those amber eyes that saw too much. "What's wrong?"

"Besides everything?" She leaned into his touch. "The twins have been jumpy since yesterday. Something about Matthews has them spooked."

"Want backup?" His thumb traced her cheekbone, a gesture so tender it made her throat tight.

"Tempting, but I should handle this officially." She rose on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. He tasted like coffee and promises. "Keep the bed warm?"

"Always." Another kiss, deeper this time, his hand tangling in her sleep-mussed hair. "Be careful."

"Always," she echoed, stealing his words and one more kiss before duty dragged her away.

Ninety minutes later, she returned to find Jim exactly where she'd left him—leaning against the kitchen counter, though now showered and dressed. He took one look at her face and opened his arms. She walked into them without hesitation, pressing her face against his chest.

"That bad?" His voice rumbled through her, hands stroking down her back.

"They withdrew." The words came out muffled against his shirt. "Both of them. Too scared to even say why properly."

His arms tightened. "Because of Matthews?"

"Viktor literally flinched when I said his name." She pulled back enough to see his face. "What could scare two alphas that badly?"

"Nothing good." Jim's jaw tensed, and she recognized his planning face. "They saw something during the challenge. Something that made them run rather than risk?—"

Beatrice's ringtone—an obnoxious pop song—interrupted. Jim grabbed his phone, frowning at the screen.

"Bea? You're on speaker with?—"

"THANK GOD!" Beatrice's panic was palpable. "Animals going crazy! Can't contain—MITTENS, NO!—help please now!"

The line went dead.

"I'll drive," Mia said, already grabbing keys. Jim's hand found hers as they rushed out, fingers interlacing automatically. Whatever was happening, they'd face it together.

Chaos greeted them at Paws Academy. The second they opened the door, a streak of calico fury shot past, followed by what looked like a fox made of green flame.

"Duck!" Jim yanked Mia sideways as a raven with silver wings dive-bombed them. His body curved around hers protectively, taking the brunt of wing-buffeting.

"Thanks," she breathed against his throat.

"Always," he murmured back, but she felt his tension. His nostrils flared. "Do you smell that?"

Before she could answer, Beatrice appeared wielding a spray bottle like a weapon. Behind her, Jasmine cast containment spells with elegant precision while Bertram corralled flying creatures with unfurled wings that made Mia's jaw drop.

"Thank everything you're here!" Beatrice looked near tears. "They all went crazy at once!"

"Let me," Mia said, centering herself. Her alpha presence flooded the room. Several smaller animals froze, but the magical ones kept panicking.

Jim's hand settled on her lower back, warm and grounding. "Together?"

She nodded. With him anchoring her, she pushed harder. His presence amplified hers somehow, creating a feedback loop of power that made even the dragon pause mid-screech.

"Better," Jasmine approved, trapping the last few creatures. "Let's get somewhere secure to figure this out."

They filed into a study room, Bertram cradling the trembling dragon. Jim stuck close to Mia, and she found herself unconsciously tracking his position—a new habit since he'd returned.

"Whatever scared them," Jim said, crouching by the dragon, "it's not natural. Animals know predators, but this..." He looked up at Mia. "This is terror of something wrong."

She knelt beside him, their knees touching. "Like what?"

"Like me."

The new voice made everyone freeze. In the corner stood a woman who hadn't been there seconds before—bone-white skin, blood-red eyes, wearing danger like designer clothing.

"Charlotte," Jim breathed, and the way he said it—recognition, wariness, history—made Mia's wolf snarl.

The vampire hunter's gaze swept the room before settling on Mia with laser focus. "So you're the one he traveled through time to return to. I expected someone... taller."

Mia rose slowly, Jim matching her movement. Without thought, she stepped slightly forward, positioning herself between Charlotte and her pack. "And you're the one who dragged him through centuries. I expected someone less dead."

Charlotte laughed, the sound like breaking crystal. "Oh, I like her, Jim. So protective. Tell me, little alpha, do you know what your lover traded for the ability to find you again?"

"Charlotte," Jim warned, but Mia caught the way his hand moved to his forearm where the temporal anchors lay hidden.

"No, please," Mia said sweetly, acid dripping from every word. "Do tell me about your arrangements with my—" She paused, then said deliberately, "Mine."

Something flickered in Charlotte's eyes at the possessive claim. "Yours? How delightfully primitive." She moved closer, each step calculated. "Did he tell you about Prague? The three months we spent?—"

"Charlotte." Jim's voice cut like a blade. He shifted, putting himself firmly between the two women. "You want something. Say it and go."

"Protective, isn't he?" Charlotte observed, but her playful tone had edges now. "Fine. Business then. The vampires I hunt have accelerated their timeline. They're here, in Wolf Valley. I need Jim's particular talents to stop them."

"No." Mia said flatly.

Charlotte's eyebrows rose. "No? How refreshingly direct."

"He's not your pet time-traveler." Mia moved to Jim's side, her hand finding his with deliberate possessiveness. His fingers immediately interlaced with hers, thumb stroking over her knuckles in that soothing pattern. "Want our help? Ask nicely. And explain why we should care."

"Your vineyard was bombed," Charlotte said to Jasmine. "That was just the beginning."

Jasmine stepped forward, recognition dawning. "You're C.B. The vampire specialist who wrote the Crimson Files."

"And you're J.K." Charlotte's demeanor shifted to professional interest. "Your binding patterns on that vineyard are exquisite. I'd love to compare notes on?—"

"Focus," Mia commanded, using enough alpha power to make Charlotte's eyes narrow.

"The vampires are establishing a foothold for a trafficking ring," Charlotte said crisply. "Blood, specifically. And your particular blood, little alpha, is worth a fortune to them."

Jim's hand tightened painfully on Mia's. "What?"

"Deadline wolf who learned to shift?" Charlotte's smile was sharp. "Your blood could stabilize vampire-wolf hybrids. They'll bleed you dry and sell you by the pint."

"Over my dead body," Jim growled, and his voice held echoes of temporal power that made the air ripple.

"That can be arranged," Charlotte said pleasantly. "Or, you help me stop them first."

"By using Jim," Mia stated.

"By allowing him to do what he does best—slip through time, find their plans, return with information." Charlotte's gaze moved between them. "Though I suppose he's on a leash now. How domesticated."

Mia felt Jim tense, but before he could respond, she squeezed his hand. "What he is," she said quietly, "is protected. By pack, by choice, by me. So if you want his help, you'll treat him with respect."

"Or?" Charlotte challenged.

"Or I'll show you why deadline wolves are so valuable." Mia smiled, all teeth. "Spoiler alert: it's not just the blood."

Charlotte studied them for a long moment—their joined hands, Jim's protective stance, Mia's unflinching challenge. Something like approval flickered across her face.

"The blood oath has to go," Jasmine interjected. "If we're helping, we need full disclosure."

Charlotte's expression tightened. "That's not?—"

"Non-negotiable," Mia said firmly. "Release him, or find another time traveler."

"Fine." Charlotte bit the word off. "Tomorrow. Sunset. The vineyard cellar can contain the energy." She moved toward the door, then paused. "Fair warning—dissolution hurts. He'll need you after."

"He has me always," Mia said simply.

Charlotte's laugh was bitter. "We'll see." She looked at Jim one last time. "Try not to slip away before then, darling. Some of us have been waiting centuries for this."

She vanished between one blink and the next.

"Darling?" Mia's voice was dangerously quiet.

"It's not—" Jim started.

"Study room. Now." She tugged him down the hall, ignoring Beatrice's "Get it, girl!" and Jasmine's knowing look.

The moment the door closed, she pressed him against it. "Explain. Now."

"Mia—"

"Darling?" She bracketed him with her arms. "Three months in Prague? What arrangement, Jim?"

His hands came up to cup her face. "Look at me." When she did, his eyes were pure amber fire. "Whatever happened then, whatever I traded, it was all to get back to you. Every deal, every bargain, every devil's compromise—all of it to come home."

"I'm your home?" The question came out smaller than intended.

"Mo stór," he breathed against her lips. "You're my only home."

She kissed him then, pouring all her possession, protection, and promise into it. When they broke apart, she pressed her forehead to his.

"She calls you darling again, I'll rip her throat out."

"Noted." His thumb traced her lower lip. "Jealous wolf."

"Your jealous wolf," she corrected.

"Always," he agreed, and sealed it with another kiss that made her forget about vampire hunters and blood oaths and everything except the way he trembled when she nipped at his lower lip.

Tomorrow would bring blood and pain and revelations. But right now, in this stolen moment, he was hers and she was his, and that was enough.

"Mo stór?" she asked against his mouth.

"My treasure," he translated. "My heart. My everything. Words don't translate well from Irish sometimes."

"I love you too," she whispered, and felt him smile against her lips.

A sharp knock interrupted them. Jasmine peered in, expression grim. "Sorry to interrupt, but we have a problem."

"Another one?" Mia didn't move from Jim's arms.

"Charlotte's still here. And she's saying..." Jasmine hesitated. "She's saying the blood oath is fighting back. That if we don't remove it tonight, it'll kill him by morning."

Jim went rigid against her. "That's not possible. The dissolution ceremony requires?—"

Pain slammed through him mid-sentence, dropping him to his knees. Blood poured from his nose as the temporal anchors blazed to life under his skin, writing themselves across his arms in burning blue fire.

"JIM!" Mia caught him as he convulsed, his back arching impossibly.

Charlotte appeared in the doorway behind Jasmine, her perfect composure cracked. "I may have underestimated how badly the oath wants to keep its secrets. We have six hours, maybe less."

"Before what?" Mia demanded, cradling Jim's shaking form.

Charlotte's red eyes were deadly serious. "Before it burns through his temporal anchors completely. And when those go..." She didn't need to finish.

When the anchors failed, Jim would be scattered across time itself. Lost forever.

"Get him to the car," Mia ordered, alpha command ringing in her voice. "NOW."