Page 28 of Sinful Mates

“No, let her stay.” Alaric swarmed around her, keeping guard. “She’s having fun.”

I sent him a pulse of gratitude over the bond.

Inside, Castor got to work on the salad ingredients while I cut up onions for the barbeque and took them out to Slade.

Through the window, I spied my daughter playing with Zethan and Alaric, and my heart skipped beats, ready to burst with happiness.

I steered my conversation with Castor away from Mia, sticking to his new theories on our curses, and solutions he wanted to try when the ingredients arrived in the mail.

Once the salads were done, we carried out the three bowls to the table, and then set up the cutlery.

“Lunch is almost ready,” Castor told everyone.

Discipline Daddy—Alaric—ordered Mia to get out of the pool and get ready for lunch.

Slade’s phone rang and he swiped answered it. “Yeah?” He paused, nodding, transferring cooked onions from the grill and setting them on a plate.

Fuck. This was meant to be a getaway. No club business. Damn infuriating man couldn’t help himself. I folded my arms over my chest and caught his eyes, which he steeled back at me.

Hell descended on the bond, fire burning up everything in sight. Arid winds stole the moisture from every pore. Disintegration of anything living and my mates and I shielded ourselves from the scorch.

“They did fucking what?” His raised voice stiffened us all and we exchanged a worried glance. At any moment, our little beachside vacation might come to a blistering end.

“Come on, little bird. Let’s get you changed out of your wet clothes.” Alaric swooped in to sidetrack Mia by escorting her inside, and my insides hummed with appreciation. I’d be right with him in a minute, only sticking around in case I needed to lower the hellish nightmare.

Slade’s eyes fell shut and he lowered the phone to his thigh. Storm fronts swept over the bond. Lightning discharged and snapped us all. Wild rains unleashed on the fire in an epic battle of heat and cold.

“I’ll deal with it.” I was surprised his phone screen didn’t crack with the way he stabbed the end call button.

When he moved to leave, I blocked him. “No, you’re not. You’re on leave and have twenty men to take care of it. No club business. You promised.”

Zethan snapped and killed three police officers from duress, overwork, and exhaustion. I didn’t want to consider what more my volatile mate might do.

Heat and intensity dropped on the bond, kept raging by his stubborn impatience. “Liquor and Gaming arrived at Bangers for a random audit, finding three breaches of regulations, ordering them to shut down.”

Breath froze in my throat as he crushed my protest. And so the final war began. The one that decided our fate. Freedom or incarceration. Those damn cops stamping out any chance of happiness and relaxation.

I glanced up as Alaric shut Mia’s curtains, shielding her from anything that went down, and also preventing anyone peeking in her room while she changed.

“I’ll be outside your door, little bird,” my shifter hearing heard him say to her.

My attention returned to Slade.

“It’s one bar. It won’t break the club.” Zethan backed me up. “Family is more important right now.”

Castor scraped at the shadows crossing his face. “Slade’s right. If we don’t subdue whoever’s behind this, we risk the problem worsening.”

“Finish this for me.” Slade shoved the barbeque tongs at Zethan’s chest.

My pulse drummed a disappointed beat.

For a moment, they had an alpha male stare down full of testosterone and challenging eyes.

In the end, Zethan relented, taking the tongs. “You’re leaving her again?”

My heart jammed in my throat at him standing up for me.

The screen door slid open, and Alaric leaned on it, his attention divided between the conversation and watching out for Mia.

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