Page 34 of Cats and Dogs

Chapter 16

Jason

It wasn't the first time that Jason Force had held a woman captive. It wasn't even the first time this year.

The others had deserved it. He was Beta of the strong, large, powerful Vergas Pack. That meant interrogating spies, traitors, and bounty hunters sent to hurt them fell under his responsibilities. At least half of them were loner females. Shifters thought little of gender; what mattered was power.

This female hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't want to hurt her if he could help it.

"Stay put and nothing will happen to you," he told the tigress.

Her smile was almost a snarl, showing her very white and sharp teeth. "Yeah, right. Don't confuse me for one of your bitches, Vergas. I don't stay. I don't fetch. I don't heel."

He didn't doubt that. Her eyes were unwavering, even as she stared at him. That was a first. Females didn't stare at him like that; not when he was working. His aura and the vibes around him changed during an attack. She should have shivered and cowered, but apparently no one had told her that.

"You will, if you know what's good for you."

His orders were simple. Keep the girl where he was sure his traitor of a brother would find her and deliver a message when Hunter turned up: the Vergas would sign a treaty of peace with the Wyvern as long as Hunter came back home. He was to free the tigress as a sign of good faith.

They'd accept the deal if they had any sense. And if anyone asked Jason, he thought it was past time that they moved on from the irrelevant little pride, in any case. He didn't know why his father was so damn obsessed with them, anyway. It wasn't his problem, he wasn't Alpha, but, in Jason's opinion, their failure to obliterate such a small group would end up damaging their reputation.

And he wanted Hunter back. The little shit needed a good beating, then he'd fall in line. Why had he been so damn stubborn? Jason didn't like his father's rules either. Those who did were rare. But, unlike Hunter, his response wasn't running away first and then kidnapping a kid in the middle of an evaluation. That was short-sighted, and stupid.

Why save one kid? What difference did it make in the long game? Jason intended to bide his time and, when his father gave him the reins of the pack, then he could implement changes. Run it like he wanted. Keep the submissives, for one; they weren't really doing any harm. They might be a little useless, but, hey, there were plenty of boring jobs to do. They could contribute to the pack by cooking or something.

Arthur was sixty-three. He remained fit, as shifters generally did, but how long could he truly expect to retain leadership without challenge? A few years, that was it. Then, rather than lose it to the first person who challenged him, he'd name Jason.

It should have been Gwen, the eldest, of course, but she'd passed away.

Jason's fists curled as they always did when he thought about his sister. The fastest wolf in the pack. With legendary white fur, she had been as beautiful as she'd been strong.

And she was dead, because of the father of the kid they were hunting.

Arthur had told him that the coward had shot her from behind, with silver. At the time, Jason had led the search for the child, bitterness and the need for revenge running in his veins. Years later, though, he was tired of the hunt and he also had stopped blaming the child for her father's sins.

They'd caught the guy. He'd paid for his crimes a thousand times over. Jason had made him understand the true meaning of suffering before he'd bled out.

The child could live, as far as he was concerned. He was glad his father had finally seen sense.

The woman in front of him wasn't making it easy, though. Three times he'd had to replace her handcuffs, because she'd yanked them off the radiator. Damn, she was strong. And hot, too. For a tigress, anyway.

She wore her hair cut short, emphasizing her delicate, almost elfin bone structure. Her lips were painted dark red, and black eyeshadow emphasized the color of her eyes; a hazel that was so very feline, he would have guessed her nature even if she didn't smell of cat.

As he’d only brought four pairs of handcuffs, he'd tied her to a chair this time - hands behind her back. Seeing her wiggle to try to get out of it, he sighed.

"Do you ever do as you're told?"

"Would you obey if I had you tied up on a goddamn chair?" she shot back.

It was his turn to smile this time.

"Depends on the circumstance."

She snorted. "Yeah, right. I know your type. I doubt you've ever let a girl on top."

His nostrils flared as he imagined her slim, athletic frame above him. She'd ride him hard. If she was trying to distract him, she was doing a brilliant job of it.

"One way to find out."

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