Page 29 of Tender Wild

Blood still crusted under Miguel’s fingernails despite scrubbing them raw in the kitchen sink before they’d left.

“Ready?” he asked Jared, who stood by the shattered remains of the coffee table, arms wrapped around himself.

Moonlight caught in his mate’s hair, silvering the edges, making him look simultaneously fragile and fierce. Dried blood crusted along his chin where it had split against the floor. More blood speckled his forearms like rust-colored freckles.

“Yeah.” Jared’s voice came out steadier than Miguel expected. “Let me grab my phone.”

While Jared retrieved it from the couch cushions, Miguel surveyed what remained of his living room. Overturned furniture, scattered books, a lamp with its shade crushed beyond recognition.

“We’ll need a tarp,” Santiago called from the kitchen doorway. “Blood’s gonna soak through the floorboards.”

Miguel nodded. His wolf paced restlessly inside him, hackles raised at the lingering scent of hyena. The knowledge that these bastards had invaded his home, threatened his mate, made something primal twist in his gut.

Jared returned, phone clutched in his hand. “It’s dead.”

“You can charge it at the tavern.” Miguel placed his hand at the small of Jared’s back, guiding him toward the door. “Santiago, lock up when you’re done. I’m taking Jared to Sin.”

Santiago's eyes flicked between them, then settled on the protective way Miguel’s hand rested against Jared. “We’ll handle this. Go.”

Outside, stars glittered overhead, indifferent to the violence that had unfolded beneath them. His bike waited in the driveway, chrome gleaming under the streetlamp.

“Here.” Miguel shrugged out of his leather jacket, draping it over his mate’s shoulders. The garment swallowed him, sleeves dangling past his fingertips. “It’s not as warm as earlier.”

Jared’s fingers curled into the leather, pulling it tighter around himself. “Thanks.”

Miguel swung his leg over the bike, metal cool against his skin as he settled onto the seat. “Climb on, elegido.”

His mate hesitated, eyes darting back toward the house where Santiago and Diablo were still dealing with the aftermath. He gazed for a moment longer before climbing on behind Miguel.

When they arrived, Miguel pushed the back door open, holding it for Jared. Inside, they were enveloped with the familiar smells of beer, fried food, and too many bodies in too small a space.

Jared hesitated at the threshold, exhaustion evident in the slope of his shoulders. “I need a drink.”

“You and me both, solecito.” Miguel guided him through the narrow hallway with a hand at the small of his back. “I need an entire fifth after tonight.” He pressed his lips close to Jared’s ear. “But you were fucking amazing underneath me.”

He chuckled when his mate’s pale skin blossomed with fire. His little sun.

“You guys cool?” Cesar’s gaze swept over Jared’s borrowed clothes. “No darts or injuries?”

“We’re good.” Miguel felt like he was saying that a little too often. He still couldn’t believe those bastards had broken into his home. It made him wonder if they’d followed him and Jared from Bishop Road where his mate’s car had broken down.

What were the odds they would show up not even an hour after he and Jared had gotten to his place?

“You two hungry?” Cesar frowned, nodding toward Jared’s bruised face. “You look like you took a baseball bat to the jaw.”

“You should see the other guy.” Jared’s voice carried a lightness his posture couldn’t match.

“Dead,” Miguel added, enjoying the satisfied look that flickered across Cesar’s face.

“Hyenas?”

Miguel nodded. “Two of them. At my place.”

“Shit.” The bottles clinked together as Cesar shifted his grip. “They’re getting bolder.”

“Getting dead is what they’re getting,” Miguel said. “Pour us something strong.”

Cesar slid two shot glasses across the bar top. The tavern hummed with activity around them—pool balls clacking, conversations floating in fragments, music pulsing beneath it all. Normal. Safe. Everything Miguel’s house no longer felt like.

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