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He wished they were at Haven. It was just his damned luck to be stuck in Sanctuary with a Feline specialist pouring over his tests when he should be at his own base, with Dr. Armani, the Wolf Breed specialist attempting to make sense of this.
As she told him earlier that day, it could be something as simple as a single recessed gene holding back the full power of the mating heat. Something she couldn’t say for certain until she examined him and Mica herself.
He stared at the door and grimaced at the pain that still swirled from her and seemed to spear straight through him. In his chest, in the deepest pit of his soul, he swore something wild swirled and howled in rage before he could shut it down.
That was why he had always been so drawn to Mica. She was one of the few humans that could do as he had learned early to do. To shut her emotions off, to keep them put away where they wouldn’t or couldn’t affect the Breeds around her.
But tha
t wasn’t the reason she did it.
He’d never truly learned why she did it. But she wasn’t able to do it now, and he knew the pain was tearing ragged holes into her soul as she was losing that control.
Moving from the suite, he headed downstairs to search for Merinus, and to hopefully learn why. He knew she talked to Merinus. Merinus had known her since she was a young girl. She would know far more than what little information he had been about to drag out of Cassie over the years.
It wasn’t Merinus he found in the parlor downstairs. It was Josiah.
Leaning back comfortably in one of the heavily padded chairs arranged in a conversation area, sipping at the liquor in a short glass, the other Breed watched him with brooding unconcern.
“Pack Leader Blaine,” he murmured as Navarro entered the room. “So damned commanding and full of himself.” He smiled tightly. “You think you have this one won, don’t you?”
“She’s my mate,” Navarro reminded him. “No one takes what’s mine and survives it.”
“She doesn’t carry your scent. All she smells of is sweet, hot need.” Josiah sat the glass on the table, each movement carefully controlled. “You don’t carry a mating scent either, Navarro. You can’t claim her without it.”
“She carries my mark,” Navarro informed him as he felt adrenaline beginning to flood his veins, his muscles tensing with the need for violence. “Don’t try to trespass, Josiah.”
He didn’t take the warning further; there was no need to. He’d said all he needed to say. The warning was implicit in and of itself. He’d stay away from her. It was that simple.
Josiah may have decided they were enemies for the moment. Perhaps forever. Navarro didn’t give a damn. He’d made his position clear. If Josiah attempted to touch what was his, then he’d pay for it.
“Navarro. We need to talk.”
Turning, Navarro watched as Jonas stepped from the office farther up the foyer. Dark, icy cold, the director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs looked as imposing as hell and not in the least pleased as Navarro moved to the end of the wide foyer and stepped into the office.
“What the hell are you up to?” Jonas growled as he closed the door behind them.
“Hell if I know.” Turning to face him, Navarro crossed his arms over his chest and wondered exactly what burr Jonas had up his ass this time. “You’ll have to be more specific, Director.”
“Why did you return to the labs after leaving earlier? And why were you attempting to access Phillip Brandenmore’s cell?”
Navarro stared back at him in surprise. Now here was a new one. With the security in the labs it should have been pretty damned evident he hadn’t been in the labs since that time he’d been there with Mica for those damned inconclusive mating tests.
“I haven’t been back to the labs, Jonas. And I’ve definitely not attempted to access Brandenmore’s cell. I have far better things to do than to fuck with him at the moment.”
Jonas stared back at him with icy suspicion. Navarro knew the director’s inability to scent deception from him was a sore point. Jonas’s sensitivity raked off the charts as well, making it impossible to know exactly how sensitive his sense of smell could be. The difference was, as director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs, Jonas’s inability to confirm any of his enforcers answers as truth or lie was a problem.
Finally he grimaced, a sign that he was willing to trust, but only for the moment.
“Your access code was used to attempt to breach Brandenmore’s cells an hour ago. We have it logged.”
“And I was with my mate an hour ago,” Navarro stated with icy distain even as he began to feel a cold edge of premonition beginning to run through him. “Change my codes,” he told Jonas. “Something’s not right here, Jonas.”
Jonas watched him for long, careful moments, though this time, there was no suspicion marking his expression. There was instead a barely glimpsed hint of calculation in his gaze.
“Someone breached the cells the other day when you went down with Mica for the first mating tests. We had the protocols changed to log all access codes into the hall leading to his cell. Someone released him. He didn’t get himself out.”
“What do the security camera’s show?”
