Page 24 of Feral Heart
His wolf paced restlessly, hungry for retribution. The image of Jamie’s terrified face as bullets whizzed past them was burned in his memory.
“I’m not telling him it was Grant,” Cesar said firmly. “Not tonight. He’s been through enough.” He glanced at his elegido, who was now chatting animatedly with Diablo, hands waving in the air as he described something. Probably the chase. His mate seemed genuinely unafraid of them now that the initial shock had passed.
Matias nodded once, short and sharp. “Watch your back. We’ll escort you home.” His eyes narrowed, cold calculation replacing the earlier anger. “First sign of trouble, you call me. Got that?”
“Understood.” Cesar’s mind was already mapping out security measures for his house. Extra locks. Motion sensors. Maybe it was time to finally install that security system Lucio had been pestering him about.
“You good?” Matias asked, eyeing the bite wound.
“I’ve had worse paper cuts.” Cesar’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Santiago’s losing his touch.”
Not really, but the price of his pack protecting Jamie, even if unnecessary, was worth the pain.
Moving away from the pack, Cesar approached Jamie, who brightened at his arrival. The simple response made something warm spread through him. No one had ever been so genuinely happy to see him before.
“Hey, pookie!” Jamie beamed up at him.
Diablo smirked, warmth in his eyes. “Reminds me of Brett.” His smile faded. “Si su hermano hijo de puta vuelve a perseguirlo, llámame. Lo enterraré en lo más profundo.”
“Appreciate it.” Cesar meant it. Crouching before his mate, he gently examined the injury. A shallow cut, already clotting, surrounded by what would become an impressive bruise by morning. Not serious, but it had to hurt. Relief flooded through him. It could have been much worse.
“How bad is it, jellybean?” Jamie asked, his voice soft but surprisingly steady.
“Not as bad as it looks,” he confirmed, running his thumb carefully along the edge of the wound. “Though you’ll be walking funny tomorrow.”
“I’m walking funny now,” Jamie quipped. “But that’s the rum’s fault.” He gestured vaguely at the men around them. “So... werewolves. I still can’t believe that’s a thing.”
Cesar couldn’t help but smile. “Wolf shifters, technically. Werewolf implies we only change at the full moon.”
“Wolf shifters,” Jamie repeated, testing the words. “Do you shed on furniture? Should I be worried about vacuuming more?”
The unexpected question pulled a laugh from Cesar’s chest. Most people would be having an existential crisis about the supernatural, and here was Jamie, worried about pet hair.
“Only when I’m stressed,” he joked.
Jamie’s eyes found his. “Does it hurt? When you change, I mean.”
Trust his little hummingbird to be more concerned about Cesar’s pain than his own bleeding knee. “Not anymore. Used to, when I was younger.” He glanced at the rip in his elegido’s jeans. “We’ll put some butterfly bandages on your wound when we get home.”
Home. The word felt right on his tongue.
He helped Jamie to his feet, steadying him when he winced and tested his weight on the injured leg. “You good to ride?”
“Are you kidding? I just found out my grocery store crush is secretly a wolf shifter. I’m fantastic.” Jamie’s smile was bright enough to rival the moon overhead. “Though I could use some Advil. And maybe therapy. But mostly Advil.”
Cesar laughed. Even after being shot at, discovering his crush turned furry, and injuring himself, Jamie’s spirit remained unbroken. The guy was resilient in ways Cesar was only beginning to understand.
How the hell had he gotten so lucky?
His mate leaned into him, warm and trusting. “Does that mean I get to see your wolf den? Do you have, like, special wolf furniture? A giant dog bed? Sorry, is that offensive?”
“Standard human furniture,” Cesar assured him, guiding him toward his bike, which Luca had brought to the front of the barn for him. “Though the couch is extra big.”
“We ride.” Matias circled his finger in the air. Engines roared to life, the combined sound like a thunderstorm rolling across the plains.
Cesar helped Jamie onto his Harley but, this time, positioning him behind rather than in front. His mate’s arms immediately wrapped around his waist, chest pressed against Cesar’s back, hands coming to rest on his stomach.
“Hold tight.” He kickstarted the engine, the familiar rumble vibrating between his thighs.
