Page 9 of The Mobster's Mate

The thought had his cock thickening, an image of all of that soft skin lounging by Quinten’s pool.

Clearing his throat, Quinten tugged the blankets back up and over him.

“Where did you come from?” he murmured, stopping himself from brushing some of his hair from his brow. “How did you end up in that warehouse?”

And what had the note meant about Quinten being careful with his things?

This man wasn’t part of his business or a member of his inner circle. He wasn’t even one of the shifters that he allowed to live within the city. Even if he didn’t recognize every single one on sight, Darius would have.

A thought occurring to him, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the man’s face, sending it to Liam.

Quinten: Do you know this guy?

It was late, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Liam got back to him quickly. His brother didn’t sleep well anymore, hadn’t since becoming alpha of the Silver Oak Pack down in Kansas. He said responsibility didn’t sit well on his shoulders, but Quinten got the feeling it was more than that.

There was a restlessness to his brother, like he couldn’t quite get comfortable in his new home and role. Liam denied it, but Quinten had helped raise him—he knew his brother better than anyone. But he also knew Liam wouldn’t tell him what was wrong until he was ready.

Quinten wasn’t sure how long he stood there gazing down at the unconscious man, just watching him breathe and cataloging his long eyelashes, the curve of his lips, the sharpness of his collarbones.

He felt more than heard something behind him.

Turning, he found Darius standing in the doorway, phone in hand.

“What’s wrong, Dare?”

The wolf jerked his head toward the hallway. “We’ve got a situation.”

Chapter Three

Caden regained consciousness slowly, his mind fighting it. Not because he wanted to stay asleep but because as he crept toward being awake, pain grew through his body. The kind of strength-stealing, soul-crushing pain he’d become achingly familiar with.

He wasn’t sure what had roused him at first. All he could focus on was how heavy his limbs were and how his throat felt torn apart like he’d been screaming for hours.

Goddess, he was so thirsty.

He couldn’t remember what had happened after the chain to the collar broke, everything just a blur of screaming pain and fear, but he could tell by the softness beneath him and the pleasant scent teasing at his nose that he was somewhere different than that freezing warehouse.

At least he wasn’t back at the Bad Place. He could tell before his eyes even opened.

There had never been anything soft or nice-smelling there.

But was he somewhere better?

Or worse?

Turning his head with a soundless whimper, he forced his eyes open and took in the bedroom he’d been sleeping in. It was completely unfamiliar but nicer than anywhere he’d ever stayed before.

He forced himself to sit up, despite his bones and muscles protesting vehemently, and caught a scent. Orange blossoms. He remembered that. He remembered that scent and worried hazel eyes. Dark hair sprinkled with silver. The way the others had turned to him for orders.

He’d been human, yet even the other shifters in the warehouse had deferred to him.

Taking a shuddery breath, Caden reached up with trembling fingers and found the collar that man had put on him, the one that wouldn’t let him make a single sound and hurt like hell. Even before the chain had been broken, it radiated pain through his skin, into his muscles and bones. An endless pulsing of agony seeping into him and draining him of strength and energy.

He took another deep breath, and a little of his misery eased.

Despite everything he had been through, every pain he was feeling, the scent of orange blossoms sinking into his lungs and mixing with his blood soothed him. He knew it was probably foolish, but this place—that man—felt safe.

Slowly, he scooted over until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, panting. The bedroom he was in didn’t have a lot of decorations and nothing personal that he could see, so he knew it wasn’t that man’s bedroom.

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