Jennifer Ashley - Hard Mated

The ache in Myka’s heart eased as soon as Spike’s motorcycle rounded the corner a little bit later. Jordan was still asleep, and Myka met Spike in the driveway as he swung off his bike, dusty and grim.

Spike slid one arm around her, touched her chin, and pressed a firm kiss her lips. He smelled of dust and the road, sweat and musk.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

A simple statement, but one that turned the ache to sweet delight.

Spike parked his bike and went inside with her, his arm firm around her waist. “Will you stay here tonight? I’ll make sure Ellison or Ronan is here to protect you and Jordan.”

Her ease dissolved into alarm. “Where will you be?”

“Fight club.”

Myka stopped. Spike’s face had hardened again, his expression one of a man who’d made a tough decision but was determined to carry it through.

“What are you going to do?” Myka asked softly.

“Give Gavan what he wants.”

Spike turned away, heading for the stairs. Myka mounted the staircase behind him, following him into his bedroom at the top of the stairs. The room was cleaner than a bachelor bedroom had a right to be, but he did have an extra pair of boots lying on floor and a few dirty clothes piled in a chair.

“What do you mean?” Myka asked, closing the door behind them. The room was warm from the afternoon sun beating on the roof.

“I mean I’m going to fight who he wants me to fight and win.”

“I’m going with you,” Myka said.

Spike stripped off his shirt and headed for the closet, the dragon on his back moving with him. “You’ll be safer here.”

“I don’t care. If this mate thing means I have to do everything you say, then forget it.”

Spike turned and frowned at her. “It doesn’t.”

“Okay, then. I’m going.”

Spike rummaged for a clean shirt. “Being my mate means I keep you safe, no matter what. So I want you here.”

“I went to the fight club before, remember? From what I understand, no one’s allowed to fight outside the ring, or do anything that will disturb the Shifter pecking order.”

“Nope.”

“So I’d be safe there. Because it’s neutral ground.”

Spike came out of the closet, his expression grim. “Not necessarily.”

“You mean because of Gavan?”

“Yep.”

“He’s not asking you to kill anyone, is he?”

“Nope.”

Myka put her hands on her hips. “You have a limited vocabulary, Spike, you know that?”

“Fighters do.” Spike pulled a black shirt on over his head and unfolded its Harley logo down his chest.

“You’re more than just a fighter.”

“I know that.”

“Well, I want to be more than a fighter’s girlfriend. What does Gavan want you to do? Explain. I’ll get it.”

Spike let out a sigh, letting go of his stubborn, cryptic look. “He wants me to win fights against strategic targets. He believes that will weaken these Shifters in everyone’s mind, so when he challenges them for dominance, they’ll already know they weren’t as strong as they thought they were, and give him a better chance. Dominance isn’t only about strength—it’s about convincing others you can best them without it having to come to a fight. He’s offered to let me become his champion, so I get to be right there next to him when he takes over—after I help him take over. He’ll be leader of his Shiftertown, and I’ll be his second and his enforcer.”

Myka listened in silence, her alarm building. Spike turned to a small, square mirror on the wall and ran a hand over the stubble on his face. “To hell with shaving. I’ll just be shifting.”

“It can’t be that simple, can it?” Myka asked.

“Not shaving? Easy for me.”

“I know you know what I mean. It can’t be as simple as you winning a bunch of fights, and Gavan taking over.”

“Nope.”

Myka fell silent again. She knew good and well that Spike wouldn’t simply give in to Gavan and do whatever he wanted. She also knew he was angry at Liam and wasn’t about to crawl over there giving him Gavan on a platter. Spike was up to something underhanded.

“Let me help,” she said.

“Shifter shit is dangerous, Myka.”

“I know. But aren’t I going to be your mate? Or whatever that means? I think you’d better explain that part to me.”

Spike came to her, his eyes taking on the golden hue, his big hands closing around her arms. “It means the mate of my heart. You to me, me to you, one. Under the light of the Mother Goddess, the moon, and the Father God, the sun, you’ll join with me. We’ll share our lives, and no longer be separate, apart.” His fingers bit down. “The mate-claim means all other males have to back off. No one will hurt you or even touch you without going through me. I keep you safe, and if you accept my mate-claim, then we bind. For always.”

His face was set, eyes on her. To be with this man—this strange, crazy, wild but tender man . . . Myka wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or drown in hope.

Spike touched his forehead to hers, his hands shaking on her shoulders. “I don’t want you to promise now,” he said. “Let me finish with Gavan first. Then I’ll convince you to be mine.”

Myka let her arms drift around him, clasping his warm back. “How are you planning to do that? Convince me, I mean?”

Spike lowered his head and nipped her lips. “I can think of a lot of ways. But you’re so strong. I’ve never met a woman as strong as you.”

“Shifter women have to be stronger than human ones.”

He touched her chest, flattening his hand between her breasts. “You have strength of heart. You have the strength of a survivor.” He kissed her lips again, his mouth hot. “I want more than survival, and so do you. I say we come together—and live.”

Myka’s heart beat faster. “Yes.”

Spike touched the corners of her lips, opening her to him, slanting his mouth over hers. His tongue swept inside, heat and goodness, strength and caring. This man had so much caring in him, and it came to her through his touch.

Myka leaned into him. Spike let the kiss turn hard, his hands moving down to her breasts, teasing the nipples through her shirt.

“Myka,” he said, savoring her name. “Let me do what I need to do. And then . . .” He kissed her throat, licked her neck. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Fine by me.” Myka kissed his chin, loving the rough feel of the unshaved whiskers. “But you still haven’t told me what you plan to do.” She tightened her arms around him. “I’m not letting you out of this room until you do.”

Spike slanted her a wicked grin. “I was right. You are a little shit.” Then he kissed her again, lowered his voice, and told her.

Myka started smiling long before he finished. “No way am I staying behind and missing this. I want to help. Tell me what I can do.”

The night was fully dark by the time Myka and Spike pulled up to the gigantic abandoned hay barn that housed the Shifter fight club. Spike climbed out of the truck to look around before he’d let Myka out, inhaling the air unclogged by city smells.

The rain that had graced them last night was long gone, the sky clear and thick with stars. Out here, away from the towns, the remoter constellations were visible, clustering in faint smudges of white.

Tonight’s matches must have been broadcast far and wide, because the dirt around the barn was packed with vehicles—cars, pickups, motorcycles. Shifters and humans mingled in the makeshift parking lot, either walking purposefully or strolling leisurely toward the barn. Those who saw Spike lifted hands, called out greetings, or told him he’d better kick some ass because they had a lot riding on him.