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Son of a bitch, he wasn’t mated to a fucking mannequin, and her impression of one was starting to piss him the hell off.
He was not going to get into a confrontation with her, he told himself—told the animal snarling inside him.
He’d be damned if he’d force the lust he knew was inside her to rise, even though he knew if he pissed her off enough, she’d relieve the ache torturing his balls.
She’d have no choice.
If he pushed hard enough, it would burn inside her as well. It was that push he had the problem with. He wanted a willing mate, one who came to him without a push or coercion.
One that came to him because she needed and ached for him as desperately as he did for her.
Opening the door and allowing her to precede him, he was suddenly struck by the faintest hint of the mating scent. Just a hint, nothing overt or heavy.
What the hell was up with that?
Every mate he had ever come in contact with had held a heavy mating scent. It was always unmistakable, and always heavy enough to ensure all other Breed males were warned away.
“Why do you need to go to the gym?” she asked as they moved into the hall to join Flint, Mutt and Dog. The fact that the mating scent was so subtle had his animal instincts pacing restlessly.
Glancing at the three men, the only thing that eased the dangerous rising possessiveness was the fact that each of them seemed completely unaware of Liza as anything other than his mate, despite the less than normal strength of the mating scent.
Strangely, Mutt, being his normal glowering self, was in the best mood of the three.
“Wow, we’re having a party today,” Liza observed mockingly as she too, obviously, noticed the lack of a genial mood.
“No kidding,” Mutt grumbled. “It’s sure as hell not been the Fourth of fucking July for the past twenty-four hours. I swear they’re”—he jerked his head toward Flint and Dog—“gonna start depressin’ me soon.” His deliberate country drawl had just the right amount of twang at the exact slow, deliberate speed needed to pull off the backwoods accent.
No one would ever have guessed that the Coyote the Genetics Council had called Mutt was actually so well spoken that detecting any sort of accent was usually impossible.
“What gives?” Stygian asked as they all entered the elevator, automatically placing Liza protectively between the four of them in the center of the cubicle.
“What gives is being stuck in this damned town babysitting,” Dog growled irritably, crossing his ar
ms over his wide chest. “I’d rather be out hunting.”
“Hunting what?” Flint growled. “Even the natural prey is staying hidden. As if they would be in any fucking danger anyway. These three just enjoy the chase. Give them the chance to kill and they lose all interest.”
“Yeah, at least our chase is actually the hunting kind. Not many of us are into outrunning them,” Mutt grunted. “You’re strange, Flint.”
“Give me a break,” Liza muttered. “You’re all strange.”
“Lady, you’re a pain in the ass—both you and your friend,” Dog growled, obviously talking about Claire. “That little hellion is going to drive me crazy.”
The lack of any animosity toward Liza had Stygian rolling his eyes rather than threatening to tear Dog’s head off. It was damned rare to see Dog reacting to anything in any manner other than mocking or sarcastic. The fact that Dog was so irate over a woman had him wondering if the Coyote—
“I’d kill myself before mating with that little harridan,” Dog snarled as Stygian inhaled deeply. “So stop looking for the damned scent. It’s flat-out not happening.”
Flint snickered while Stygian shook his head. Claire would be happy to know that so far, the mating scent wasn’t detectable. That didn’t mean it would stay that way, though.
“I think this sparring session is just what we all need,” Mutt growled as the elevator doors swung open, depositing them in the private gym Jonas had arranged in one of the conference rooms on the ground floor. “I could handle kicking your asses to hell and back. Might make all this enforced indoor boredom actually worth it.”
“You’re going to spar?” Complete disbelief filled her voice as she moved to face Stygian. “You brought me down here so I could watch the four of you spar?”
Staring into the narrowed gaze of his mate, Stygian suddenly felt more defensive than he liked. And he found he sure as hell didn’t like being defensive in front of Liza.
“No, I brought you down here so you could do that work you were bitching about while I spar,” he growled, hiding his confusion at the scent of—envy?
She was envious?
