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  “Okay, mom,” he whispered, pressing his head against the cool wall of the hallway. “Okay.”

  He said his goodbyes and hung up, taking a few minutes to gather his strength to call his mate again.

  His fingers shook as he pressed the button for her number.

  Ring. Ring. Ring. It was as ominous as the beeping machine in Jordy’s room.

  And then click. You’ve reached Deana’s voicemail, because I don’t answer this damn phone for anyone. You know what to do. Beeeeeeep.

  Mason swallowed hard, trying to make his voice level, but it was useless.

  “It’s me,” he said. “I know you don’t want to talk to me. I get it, Deana. But… this is about Jordy. It’s important. He’s...” He couldn’t make himself say it to the machine. He’d tell her over the phone, if she would only talk to him. “Just please, call me back. Please, okay?”

  He hung up, the weight of everything piling up like an avalanche on his shoulders. Staring down the hall, he spotted Renee at the other end, head bent over the counter filling out paperwork.

  Mason was an onsite physical therapist. But after this, he was never coming back to this place.

  His phone buzzed, making him jump at the sound. It was the ringtone he used for Deana, and he stared at the screen like it was foreign. He hadn’t heard it in so long he wondered if his ears were making it up just to fuck with him.

  But no. A picture of her face smiling took up the screen. He’d snapped it the day after their son was born. It was a hopeful reminder that at one time, she’d cared for the boy very much.

  And now she was calling.

  Mind scrambling, he slid his thumb across the surface to answer the call.

  “Deana?”

  There was no answer, but he could hear faint music and shouting in the background.

  “Mate, are you there?”

  “Not yer mate,” she slurred, but he could hear the scorn in her voice. And really, he didn’t feel anything but anger for her anymore, so he couldn’t say why he’d called her mate. “What do ya want, Mas’n?”

  He sighed, trying to collect his words. “I’m calling about Jordy. He needs you, Deana. He needs his mother right now—”

  “No, he doesn’t. I’m nawt cut out for that, ya know. Don’t wannit. Don’t like bein’ a mother.” She giggled a strange lazy sound, while someone in the background mumbled incoherently.

  Shit. She was high.

  Mason pinched the bridge of his nose, but he felt new tears sting his eyes anyway.

  “Deana, where are you? I can come to you, bring you here. You need to see him, okay? You’ll regret it if you don’t come see him.”

  Her breath hitched and she sighed, but her voice wasn’t worried when she spoke. It was just dull. “Don’t have regrets anymore, cat. I let allll that go when I left you. Now it’s just… doin’ what I want. Livin’ how I want. I quit you, quit the young. Best fuckin’ thing I ever did.”

  Mason squeezed his eyes shut against her cruel words. It was the drugs talking. Or maybe it wasn’t. But it didn’t matter. Jordy was all that mattered.

  “So I’ma go now, Mas’n. Don’t call me no more, ‘kay?”

  “Our son is dying,” he blurted. He held his breath waiting to see if she’d hung up.

  “What?” Her voice came so quietly, and for a moment she almost sounded like the Deana he fell in love with. The female he’d tried to convince he was different than other cats.

  “Jordy,” he garbled, ducking into the stairwell so he couldn’t be overheard. “He’s dying, Deana. He doesn’t have long now.”

  “No. H-He has an animal. His animal will keep him safe.” The rote way she said the words let him know this was something she’d been telling herself for a while. Probably to alleviate whatever guilt the drugs weren’t numbing.

  “No. His leopard is too young. Too weak. His animal can’t fight this.”

  “Yer lyin’,” she accused, her voice growing louder. “Lyin’ to get me to come back there so you can make me stay.”

  “I’m not, Deana.” His voice broke. “I’d never do something like that to you. Damn it, female, don’t you remember who I am?” He’d confided his need to have something real with her, cried with his head lying on her belly, promising he’d be different than their fathers. And damn it, he was. But it didn’t matter one fucking bit. She gave up. “I never wanted to hurt you, and I don’t want to now. Our son is sick, and I’m begging you. Come home, Deana. Please. Come home. For him, not for me.”

  She was silent on the other end. Even the background noise was gone, but he could hear her breathing. And the fact that she was still there, pushed the tears from his eyes until they streamed down his cheeks.

  “Please, baby. Come see him. Hold his hand. Tell him… tell him goodbye like you didn’t before. You want me on my knees, begging? I’ll do it. Fuck, anything. Just… come home.”

  More silent seconds ticked by, until he thought he’d go crazy begging her with his heart.

  “No,” she rasped, and drew in a hard breath, like her decision was etched in stone tables. “I can’t. Can’t go back there. To that. No. He’s better off not seein’ me. I’m not his mother anymore.”

  Mason sank against the wall. Everything hurt so bad. His cougar whimpered at the pain, snarling for a shift. And he had a selfish moment.

  What about him? She was still his, wasn’t she? Their son was about to die. Mason was about to go through the most heart-breaking thing he could imagine, and he was going to do it alone. Alone, when she’d promised to be by his side forever. As damaged as she was, she was supposed to be the one to save him when he needed saving. The one who was supposed to mend his heart when it was shredded.

  But Deana wasn’t any of that. Had never been. And wouldn’t ever be.

  “Okay, mate.” Mason tucked his chin to his chest and let off a sigh that gave his lungs a sharp pain. “This is it then.”

  “Good,” she said, her voice sounding relieved. “Good.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye, Mas’n.”

  The line clicked and he knew she was gone.

  But he kept the phone to his ear until he was ready to whisper his last words to her.

  “Bye.”

  ***

  Mason watched, oddly numb, as the miniature casket was lowered into the ground. He’d cried his pain out. Screamed. When Jordy breathed his last breath.

  His son was gone.

  His spirit, his once vibrant soul. The animal that lived inside him.

  Gone. Forever. Only to remain tucked away deep in Mason’s heart. That boy was a part of him. The very best part of him. Had smiled through the hardest trials any two-year-old should ever have to face. He’d fought hard, like the tiniest little badass ever. He’d been brave, and now his battle was over. And now Mason wasn’t going to let him down by crying like a fucking broken man at his funeral.

  Mason’s mom stood on one side of him, sniffing away her tears as quietly as she could manage. Renee was on the other side, doing her stoic doctor thing. She’d cry later. Or maybe she already had. She was good at this kind of thing.

  Deana was missing. He hadn’t bothered leaving her a message about the funeral. He was done chasing her. Done with mating. Done with everything.

  He was taking off. Leaving Fort Worth, and all its shitty memories. He was heading north to get lost with his cat in the mountains. Very far north. Canada maybe. Some place where he wouldn’t have to be a human for a while.

  He glanced at his mother. Could he do that to her? Just leave and never call. After all she’d been through to raise him right, with his dad in and out at random. After losing her only grandson.

  He wasn’t really alone, was he? He wasn’t the only one with a broken heart.

  The three of them stayed until the dark dirt covered Jordy’s tiny casket and the preacher had left. They stayed until the sun was setting, but Mason wanted to stay longer. Jordy was afraid of the dark, even if he’d pretended not to be. Brave litt
le male. Now he was in permanent darkness.

  The idea threatened to choke Mason up, but he shoved the feeling down.

  He wouldn’t let his son be in the dark. He’d keep his memory shining within him always. Somehow. Never let the dark spots of their battle be what he focused on. He’d forget Deana. Maybe even forgive her. Shit. Maybe not.

  He just had to find a way to bring his heart back from its dark place. He’d do that for Jordy.

  Somehow.

  Stomach churning, he walked his mom back to the car and helped her in.

  “You’re not coming back to work at the hospital are you?” Renee asked carefully.

  Mason shook his head. “There’s nothing for me here. Mom’s due back in Seattle day after tomorrow. I’ll be gone after that.”

  “You sure you want to go?” Her eyes drifted back across the cemetery toward Jordy’s resting place.

  “Can’t stay here, Renee.” He’d come back to visit when he needed to, but his son wasn’t here. Only his body was. The rest of him would be with Mason in other ways.

  She nodded, crossing her arms over her middle while the ominous wind whipped at her ruby hair. “You sure about this?”

  “Positive.”

  Renee sighed, a sad expression falling over her face before she said, “There is a small group of big cats who have come together to form a clan.”

  Mason frowned. “Big cats, together? In a clan?” The idea was absurd. Werecats were notorious loners. They had family sure, but they didn’t group up. Too many cats in one place only caused trouble. They weren’t like the wolves, or the bears, or so many other shifters who thrived in packs.

  “Yes,” Renee said slowly. “It’s odd, I know. But they have an interesting situation. They run a vacation lodge deep in the Ouachita mountains and they’re looking for a full-time masseuse. It’s solitary, private. It could be a place for you to hole up for a while. Heal.”

  Mason shook his head. “I won’t live where there are mated females. Can’t watch that shit happen in front of my own eyes. It will only remind me of what happened with Deana.”

  “That’s the interesting part. They have a no-mating pact. Their leader enforces it, but they are all in agreement because they don’t want brutal werecat matings to hurt their people. No mating.”

  No mating.

  “An all-female clan?” Had to be. He didn’t know of any male werecat that would forsake mating out of pure decency. And the ones like him, that had tried to mate the right way, had fucked it up.

  Renee shook her head. “No. Four males. Two females.”

  Mason frowned, the information sitting oddly in is chest. His lion’s interest was piqued. A place for him to go where his animal could stretch its legs. Where he could stick to himself. Where nobody knew his past, and wouldn’t ask questions. A full-time job to keep his mind off things. Bonus that it wasn’t in a hospital. And the biggest draw? No mating.

  If he went to the Ouachita’s, he wouldn’t have to lose himself in the wilderness of Canada. He wouldn’t lose contact with his mom.

  He’d check it out. No promises, but he’d drop by on his way up north, and if he liked what he saw, maybe he’d stick around.

  If not… he’d go as far north as it took for him to forget about his shitty life.

  All of it except Jordy.

  Chapter One

  “Ohhhhhhhughhhh. Mmmmmmnnnhhh. Unghhh. Oh, oh! Right there, yes. Yesssssss. God, yes!”

  Mason rubbed harder at the body beneath him, working out a high pitched squeak.

  “Ohmuhguhhhhhh. How are you so good at this? It has never felt this good in my life. Mmmmm, yes. God, yes.”

  And Mrs. Markel had lived a long life, so that was saying something.

  Mason poured more massage oil on his hands and adjusted his grip on her shoulders. She let out a yelp of pleasure and he jerked his head up to see if anyone heard through the glass walls of the massage room. But of course they did. Mrs. Markel was a sweet and rascally older lady, but damn if she wasn’t the loudest regular client he had at Lake Haven lodge.

  The wall’s lower half was frosted to preserve Mrs. Markel’s privacy, but the top half was clear and he could see his co-worker, Bethany trying to cover a giggle at his expense. Mason glared at her through the glass and she put her hands up in surrender. He couldn’t blame her though. Mrs. Markel had no shame, and it was funny as hell.

  The desk phone rang and Bethany answered it, one hand rubbing her beach-ball belly. She was due with her second young any day now, and Mason was glad to see her smiling. She did that a lot. It was a sign things were okay. And he was always looking for those kinds of signs from her.

  It was habit.

  Bethany was one of the few humans who belonged to the Ouachita clan of big cats. She’d mated Renner, the first of their clan to break the no-mating pact. Now the entire clan was mated. All but Mason.

  He’d been all for the change at first. Decided it was necessary after seeing how much stronger it made their clan. And at a time when they’d desperately needed to be strong. They’d been in for a battle, and Mason knew it, thanks to the handy-helper in his head, Destiny, an Elder from the Dirt Track Dogs who fed him information she thought the clan should know.

  Renner, then Eagan, then their leader, Magic… all of them had mated under their own terms. Essentially changed the way big cats mate. At least Ouachita big cats. They’d decided on fully committed relationships. But the real kicker, the key ingredient, Mason figured, was that they’d mated humans, so there was no generational baggage for their females to overcome. The result: their cats were able to fully bond with their chosen mate, and their females were happy and healthy.

  A miracle, so many of them called it.

  Mason called bullshit, even if he was happy for them. He just didn’t believe in miracles.

  It wasn’t until the last few matings when cats had paired with other cats and a bond still formed, that he’d been able to relax about their clan changing the no-mating pact. After all, it had been the selling factor when he’d considered taking the job at Lake Haven all those years ago.

  “You wanna mate?” It was the first question the Ouachita clan leader had asked.

  “No,” Mason had said easily, to the man they called Magic. He remembered thinking it was a strange name for a male so rigid.

  “Ever?”

  “Huh?”

  “You ever gonna wanna mate?” The male flipped his dark hair out of his face and Mason saw the shadows in his eyes. Pain. Regret. The kind that settled in the gut and never quite went away. Mason knew it well.

  “Never.” The answer left his lips like a curse. But back then, he’d been sure. He never wanted a repeat of what he had with Deana. Never wanted someone that close to him again.

  Magic had nodded, seeming satisfied. “Then you can stay. You’re one of us now. Welcome to the Ouachitas where everything hurts but it’s better than the guilt of mating. Welcome to the Haven.”

  A haven because the females were safe there. And the males made sure of it. Mason had found a place to heal on his own terms, just like Renee had said. He’d focused on his work in the spa, and on watching over his clanmates from a distance. And later, when he was ready, he’d connected with some of them. Shared a few beers. Shared a few stories. Laughed a little. Maybe even a lot. He’d made a life there for himself. Or so he’d thought. But recently, it felt like all that time he hadn’t really been living. Just existing at a less crippled level than when he first arrived.

  And now he had other troubles to worry about.

  Their clan had grown from the small group it was when he’d first joined. They were now eighteen strong, with one young and four more on the way. And they weren’t just big cats anymore. They had humans and bears and witches, or Sorcera as they liked to be called. Together, they had battled enemies who wanted to threaten the peaceful existence they’d built deep in the mountains. They were strong, made that way by the bonds of love Mason himself had helped grow. But now… no
w there was a threat that couldn’t be fought by sheer strength, and he didn’t know if Ouachita would come out on top again.

  One of their own was in danger. Adira, a Sorcera of light, was losing her good magic, and if they didn’t find an Anchor for her by the autumnal equinox, she would transition to become the darkest of magic users, a dark Magei.

  Mason tried his best to drown out Mrs. Markel’s moans and focus on his problem. His job as a masseuse for the lodge’s spa had always had a calming effect on his animal. The rhythmic strokes and pulls had a way of focusing his mind.

  The equinox was in two weeks. He had two weeks to find a solution for the Sorcera’s problem. It kept him awake at night, thinking over ways to outsmart the darkness that was coming for her. Her coven sisters, Nastia and Mirena had both found a way to anchor. Nastia by dying and using a magic spell to return as something akin to a vampire, and Mirena by finding her actual Anchor in her bear shifter mate, Theo.

  But for Adira, there seemed to be nothing for her to hold to.

  He wasn’t giving up though. Mason frowned, working his hands down Mrs. Markel’s spine. No, he wouldn’t give up on that female because she was special.

  Mine, his cat growled, and Mason flipped the bastard an internal middle finger. He couldn’t be making a claim like that. Not when he’d already marked a female long ago.

  “It’s such a shame you’re single, Mason,” Mrs. Markel said, drowsily. “A nice young man like you should have a lady to treat. You need a real nice one, you know? Sweet, but a little sassy. Just enough to keep you on your toes.”

  Mason smirked at her suggestion. “Now, Mrs. Markel. Tell me, why would I need a lady in my life when I have you? Hmm?”

  She chuckled, waving him off with one bejeweled finger. “Ah, you big flirt, you. I bet your problem is you have too many ladies. Can’t settle on one. Am I right?”

  That used to be the case. But it wasn’t that he couldn’t settle. It was that he didn’t want to. A long term relationship wasn’t good for him. And even though his cat liked to throw the word mine around whenever he thought of Adira, he wouldn’t be able to bond with her like she deserved. Or anybody.