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“Here’s our ride,” Tarek shouted as Thor was first loaded in.
Reaching the vehicle themselves Diane jumped in the open side, taking one last look at the disappearing dust as Lawe and Dane’s Dragoons disappeared over the rise, and four others raced from the trails that cut through the pines to meet them.
Reinforcements. Dane and Jonas hadn’t taken chances. There were enough Enforcers joining them, along with Dog’s teams, to ensure victory.
And when he returned—
When he returned, it would be to the mate willing to give all of herself to the Breed who had finally set her free.
•EPILOGUE•
He was wounded.
Diane stood silently, biting her lip as she watched as the Breed medic worked silently on the gash across his right bicep, and this was after digging the bullet from the shallow wound in his shoulder.
Blood smeared across and down his chest, but he sat silently, almost relaxed but for the edge of concern in his somber gaze as he watched her.
She was frowning at him. Her hands were braced on her hips as she glared at the wounds.
“I told you not to get wounded,” she pointed out calmly.
“You did,” he agreed with a slow, thoughtful nod. “And I tried very hard to please you, mate, but that Vanderale brat seemed to think his own hide was more important than mine and used me for a shield.”
Oh, now this was just wrong. He was blatantly lying to her. Blatantly, playfully. Almost flirtatiously lying to her. She had already heard the details when he was first brought in, but she turned to Jonas and Dane where they stood behind her anyway.
Both men were glaring at her mate.
Her brow arched inquisitively. “Vanderale brat?” she asked Dane curiously.
He grunted at the insult. “Next time, I’ll throw him to the damned Coyotes.”
“Looks like he’s going to live, anyway,” Jonas drawled as he watched Lawe broodingly. “You acted like you actually missed having bullets whine past your head.”
Lawe grinned.
The sight of that smile did something to her. It melted her insides. Like butter on a hot summer day she could feel emotion just oozing through her, over-taking her, seeping into all the little hidden, previously locked areas of her soul to fill her with a sense of rich, sudden life.
“And I believe that’s our cue to leave,” Dane murmured.
“Damned Breed sense of smell.” Diane sighed as they both left the suite, the outer doors closing behind them as the medic laid the last skin cement to the degradable staples used to pull the edges of the wound together.
Sealing the exposed raw flesh, the Breed pulled back, packed his instruments into the old-fashioned black case he carried and shook his head at Lawe. “I thought I was done fixing you up.”
“This happens often does it?” Diane asked.
The medic grinned. “Just every time he heads out on a mission, finds a Council soldier to fight, or just plain wants to spar with the younger Breeds to prove his experience beats their youth and strength.” He chuckled. “Sure you want him back on active status?”
She turned back to her mate. His brow was arched, his expression knowing.
“Hell,” she breathed out in exasperation, “it’s probably the only way to keep from killing him.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty tame while he’s healing.” The medic chuckled as he headed for the door. “Call me if he busts the stitches loose.”
Within seconds he too had left the room, leaving them alone.
“In pain?” she asked.
He rose from the bed and quickly shed his jeans. The shirt had been cut from him earlier, his boots eased from his feet the moment they had been lifted to the bed.
