Page 19 of Sweeter Than Honey
"I can smell the shifters that attacked your car. The aggression pheromones are off the charts. They mean business and they probably won’t stop until they find out where you are. Whatever this Roan left behind must be worth a hell of a lot for an entire band of shifters to be after you. I’ve never heard of a pack that follows that law; it’s got to be centuries old and not at all in line with modern times. Those that do follow it likely do mosteverythingthe old way, which means kidnapping you would be pretty high on their list. So would tossing your body in that swamp you mentioned after you give birth.”
The cold, hard edge was back in his voice. Her first reaction was to dismiss his warning, to turn inward and protect herself against it, but how could she? This isn’t something she could handle on her own. She wasn’t safe. For the first time in a very long time, she needed someone to tell her what to do. She needed to accept help.
But, damn, it was hard to swallow.
Cara pressed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “I bet you tell the best bedtime stories.”
Jett was in front of her in three big strides, his expression pure frustration and protectiveness.
“No more joking around, Cara. You’re in real trouble. Do you understand? Looks like you’ll be my first Air BnB customer, after all.”
“What are you talking about?”
He took a step back. “I can’t protect you unless you’re with me. Allie is right. You need to stay at my place. Just don’t expect me to cook, or make those fancy little muffins, or entertain you, or… you know what? Just get in the truck. I’m regretting this already.”
Chapter Ten
Oh,thiswasadamn mess.
Cara looked out the passenger window, her gaze was glued to the scenery as they traversed the bumpy road to his secluded home. The view was nice but not riveting. She was probably pondering this turn of events just like he was. He’d insisted that a stranger come into his home—a pregnant woman, for crying out loud—and it felt awkward as hell. For her, too.
She didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want her...
Well, that wasn’t completely true.
Jett gripped the wheel hard and gave her a quick side eye. She needed help. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t the kind of man to walk away from a female in need of protection. It just so happened there was no one to hand her off to. No, she’d be his responsibility... for nine months and counting. His nostrils flared. The cub she was carrying wasn’t of the Estes Park pack bloodline, but the child was a shifter and that alone made him worth protecting, right?
Right. So why did he feel so...something, about all this?
No, she needed help and that was all this was. He had informed her of her options, hadn’t he? Find a suitable shifter. Imprint. Get on with her life with the shifter male of her choice.
A bubble of pressure welled in the base of his throat. He tried to clear it, but it came out as a low growl. He tried again. Another growl, deep and protective.
Cara looked at him then, brows arched.
“Do you need a doctor?”
No. He needed his bear to shut the hell up. Pressing a hand to his throat, he shook his head. “Just need a drink.”
What the hell was that? The inside of his chest pressurized as a low rumble filled the cavity and morphed into a tremor that worked down his limbs. He squeezed out a low, hard breath that he had no control of. He sounded like a deflating balloon.
His bear rumbled inside him, making his skin crawl with familiar pins and needles. Jesus, the bear was stirring shit up.
Jett shook his head.
“Stop it.” The whisper ground out of him.
She looked at him again.
He fake coughed and pounded on his chest, which irritated the goings on inside him. The pressure worsened, another growl building deep and low and hard within him. His bear was speaking his mind and if he didn’t get out of this truck soon, he’d?
He’d what?
If he did get out of this truck, he’d shift again and completely deplete himself. He couldn’t afford another shift so soon after the one he’d been in recently. It had been hard as hell to revert into his human form. But the bear wanted something. It was restless. It had an urge he couldn’t pinpoint.
“So, this whole imprinting thing. How would I go about, you know, finding a suitable candidate?”
Jett’s throat constricted, loosened, and propelled a bone-chilling growl, so low and menacing that it rippled the air inside the cab. Pressing the break, he skidded to a stop and hunched over the wheel, gripping it until his fingers dug wells in the leather.
