Page 37 of Nanny's Mate

But Beatriz let herself sink into her mate as much as she could without unleashing her true desperation. He did the same, and the sun crested behind a distant mountain, casting them in shadows.

They parted eventually, a miraculous act. Beatriz's fingers slid down Mike’s arm and tangled briefly with his, squeezed, and then finally let go.

She forced herself to turn away from him. There was no other option. She was either going to erupt in tears or desire. Or both.

Beatriz felt like she was moving underwater as she approached the cabin door, the starting of the ignition a faint rumble in a whole other dimension. She heard the car pull away and then disappear, the sound swallowed with blunt disregard.

She could barely get the door open. Beatriz’s limbs went weak as she stumbled through the cabin, dropping her bags haphazardly and slamming the door shut. She pinned herself against it, grief moving through her like a roaring tidal wave.

Sadness and anger are two peas in a pod. No one knows that better than shifters, who feel emotions on a much higher continuum than the average human. All at once, she wanted to shatter every piece of furniture, scream, shift, and run out into the wilderness. They had done right, but at what cost to her own sanity?

Beatriz had to get out of there. She needed to load the car and leave town to never come back.

Beatriz pressed her palm against her mouth and let out a muffled, primal howl.

TWENTY-ONE

MIKE

Mike drove off into the dim after dropping off Beatriz, his heart coming apart like splintering glass. It took everything within him to keep from turning the car around, kicking down the door, and pulling his beloved into his arms. He had claimed her, but he wanted to do it over and over, to show her how her very essence coated every cell in his body.

That was what the wolf in him said, anyway.

You are a fool! You have found your mate, and you’re running away? What the fuck for?

Mike gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned a ghostly white. He drove to Tristan and Barbara’s to let them know that Beatriz would no longer be a distraction and that he was fully on board as the Wolfe enforcer again.

It was the right decision, but his wolf wasn’t going to stop nagging him, at least initially. It was within a shifter's very nature to crave their mate, especially once they’d marked one another. The bond that was forged was entirely cosmic.

So it wasn’t going to be easy to ignore his wolf’s pleas, but he had to. The agony of it was comparable to that of peeling skin from a sunburn.

But a decision had been made.

Mike pulled into the Wolfe’s private estate and parked the car. It was early for a visit, but the Wolfe's matriarch and patriarch were early risers. The bright day felt crude to him.

He was welcomed inside by one of the housekeepers, who knew him and led him into the lounge that the enforcer had grown familiar with. He expected to see Tristan standing by the window, hands contemplatively behind his back. But he wasn’t.

Instead, Barbara was there, sitting on the couch with snacks, tea, and coffee. Mike hadn’t eaten, but he had no appetite, not since leaving Beatriz.

“Good morning,” Barbara said with a broad smile.

“Good morning,” Mike said, standing awkwardly in front of the Wolfe matriarch, flicking his fingers. “Not to be rude, but do you know where Tristan is? I have a few things I’d like to discuss with him.”

Barbara was eyeing him the entire time. She raised her mug to her lips, steadily holding the saucer between her slender fingers with ease. She spoke in between blowing the steam away from the cup.

“He’s still interrogating that dealer down at the station. Apparently, he's a difficult nut to crack.”

“I see.”

Barbara cocked an eyebrow. Mike tried to remain unaffected by her glare, but his sullen demeanor was as subtle as a hot air balloon in a clear sky.

“What’s going on?” she asked bluntly.

Mike considered evading her question or even simply lying. But what was the point? There was a reason she was half a leader of a well-known pack. She could see through him like rice paper.

“Beatriz and I came to an agreement,” he said, swallowing dryly. “We decided that it would be best if we went our separate ways for now while this drug business is being dealt with. I didn’t like feeling useless as a Wolfe enforcer, and she noticed. I wanted Tristan to know that I’m ready to go."

Barbara’s slack grip on the mug was jarring to see. She was far older than her appearance implied, but she rarely staggered. For a second, Mike thought she was going to drop the mug onto the carpet below.

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