He managed to get to her just before she sank her teeth into the deer’s soft belly. He pounced on her, biting into the back of her neck and holding her down, forcing her to submit to him. With a snarl she went limp beneath him.

He didn’t dare change back to explain himself. If he did, Becky’s Puma would pounce on the dead meat now lying on the forest floor, feasting on it with abandon. But he couldn’t talk to her in this form. Unlike fantasy, shifters didn’t automatically get the ability to speak telepathically with one another. They communicated in gestures, or waited until they changed back to human. So he was stuck there, holding down a young, newly made Puma while blood scented the air. His own Puma fought and snarled and raged, eager to feast on the meat its mate had provided.

“Hmm. Now isn’t that a pretty picture.”

A growl rose in his throat at the sound of Livia’s voice.

“Hello, Simon. Hello, Becky.”

She looked like she’d been camping in the woods. Her hair was braided tightly, a plaid cap pulled low over her brow. She was in a hunter’s jacket, jeans and hiking boots, and she reeked faintly of wood smoke and sweat.

He snarled at the sight of the rifle in her hand. The barrel was trained on Becky’s head.

“I’ve been waiting all week for this night. Now get off of her or I’ll blow her head off.”

Slowly he backed up, never looking away from the blonde who’d tried to take his mate from him.

My mate! Mine! The snarl of his Puma filled the air. By approaching Becky again and threatening his mate’s life, again , her own life was now forfeit.

All he had to do was play the game and wait for his chance.

Livia shook her head. “Uh-uh-uh.” She smiled sweetly down at Becky. “Why don’t you have some dinner, dear?”

Becky growled low in her throat. Simon couldn’t tell if it was over the meat or the blonde threatening them both.

“Go ahead, kitty. Have some venison. Mm-mmm, wouldn’t some meat taste really good right about now? I bet you’re hungry.” Livia smirked. “Did you enjoy the chocolates I left you?”

The growl died in Becky’s throat. Her attention zeroed in on the woman in front of her, her body moving into a classic pouncing pose as she froze in front of Livia.

“Don’t even think about it.” Livia stared down the barrel of the gun, hatred suffusing her features and rendering her ugly. He knew if Becky so much as twitched wrong Livia would fire.

Suddenly, Becky relaxed. She sat on her haunches, ignoring the blood on her claws as she tilted her head to the side. She stared at Livia with all the amused disdain a cat was capable of showing. He wanted to yowl. What the hell is she up to?

“You little…”

Simon’s heart nearly stopped as Livia’s finger tightened on the trigger.

Livia’s cell phone rang, the tinny sounds of Mozart’s Alla Turca loud and startling. She glanced down briefly at her hip…

…And Simon pounced, taking her down before she could get a shot off. Without giving Becky a chance to stop him he ripped the blonde’s throat out, sitting back to watch impassively as her life bled out onto the forest floor.

As the last of her choking gasps faded away, Simon screamed his triumph to the sky.

Chapter Eight

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. Simon sat up in bed, surprised to see Becky was up before him. The bathroom was empty, meaning she’d been up for at least half an hour.

He got up, stretched and padded naked into the bathroom. He did his business, brushed his teeth and hair, and thought about a shower. He decided against it, knowing that putting in Adrian’s hardwood floors would be a tiring, sweaty job. He’d do better to wait until he got home. He got dressed quickly, anxious to see his mate before he started his day. She’d probably already had her first cup of coffee, so she’d be relatively human.

“Morning, baby,” he called out cheerfully as he stepped out of the bedroom.

She merely smiled at him over the edge of her mug. There were still shadows on her face from their night in the woods, but not once had she flinched away from him. He’d been terrified that he’d lose her after she’d seen him kill Livia. Instead she’d curled up around him, trying her best to soothe him.

It baffled him, but hey, he’d been able to hold her close, and that was all that mattered.

Jamie had taken both Livia and the dead deer back to the mansion. The deer had been poisoned. If either he or Becky had eaten any of the meat they’d be lying dead on the forest floor themselves. After a little searching they found three other deer in the forest, similarly poisoned, and Livia’s campsite.

He had no idea what Jamie did with Livia’s body or the dead animals. He knew Max had been called and consulted. It was quickly decided that Livia’s death was to be a secret between the Pride’s Alphas, Betas and their doctor, Jamie. If a Marshal was ever appointed, he assumed he or she would be told, but no one else.

Thursday had been spent quietly cleaning up the mess and talking with his mate. He was surprised to learn she wasn’t upset over his killing Livia. As far as she was concerned he’d done what he had to in order to protect them both. And last night Max had formally acknowledged Becky as part of the Pride and confirmed the fact that she was, indeed, Beta female.

Simon gave Becky a casual kiss on the top of her head and sat in front of his cereal bowl. He needed to decompress after the stresses of the last week. A day of back-breaking, sweaty labor with his best buddies, followed by cold beer and pizza, should do the trick nicely.

He picked up his spoon, eager to start his day. Luckily the odor hit his nose before the spoon hit his mouth. He looked down, staring at the Cat Chow in his bowl. He blinked and gently set the spoon down.

“Am I allowed to know why I’m in trouble or should I just start apologizing generically?”

“Adrian.”

He looked up at her with raised brows. “Adrian pissed you off and I’m getting Cat Chow?”

“You didn’t ask me to help.”

He looked up at her, totally baffled. “What?”

She huffed out a sigh. “I’m really good with home improvements.”

“You’re opening and closing the store today.”

“I know.”

“You can’t , literally can not , help.”

“I know.”

“Then why the Cat Chow?”