Megan's Mark Page 17


"Perhaps." He tilted his head in acknowledgment of the insult as she stared back at him in confusion.


"Why did you do this?" she asked quietly.


"Because it needed to be done." Jonas arched his brow. "You see, Miss Fields, we have a spy somewhere in this little setup. If not here in this office, then elsewhere. Possibly both. I'll find out who it is, one way or the other. Thank you very much for assuring me that in this case I was wrong. Sheriff Jacobs is innocent."


Her lips parted in shock.


"It's all a game," she whispered. "You knew I was empathic. You used me to try to trap my cousin," she accused him, the anger growing in her voice as she twisted her head to stare up at Braden. "You told him." It made sense now. Somehow he had learned of the empathic abilities and turned them against her by confronting Lance in front of her and then


watching her reaction. "You bastard!" She struggled against Braden's grip. "You cold-blooded, unfeeling son of a bitch."


"Megan. Stay still." Braden's arms surrounded her as she tried to slam her elbow into his abdomen, jerking against his grip. "You don't want to do this alone. Not right now. Too many emotions are whipping through you. Settle down and think first."


His voice was at her ear, slicing through the chaotic din of the blood thundering in her ears, of the emotions and sensations that attacked her brain. Fury. Anger. It was her weakness. She couldn't manage even the simplest shield against them on her own.


Lance was trying to pull his own emotions back, to spare her the pain of his fury; but it was still there, whipping through the room as though it were a separate entity.


She could feel herself shuddering in Braden's grip. She was breathing harshly, her mind soaking up the psychic waves rolling through the room. So many emotions. But over them all, satisfaction. Satisfaction, as well as anger, that poured from Jonas Wyatt.


Her gaze rose to his as she grabbed hold of the fragile barrier she could feel surrounding her, the calm that flowed from Braden and encompassed her in its protection.


"Get the hell out of this office, Jonas," Lance snapped. "Now. And don't bother coming back here."


"Sorry Sheriff." Jonas's smile was flat, tight with his own anger now.


"Unfortunately, we're not quite finished yet. I came to find a spy; instead I find out that my best Enforcer has now mated your cousin. Quite an interesting little development, I must say."


Braden froze behind her as Megan blinked back at the Breed.


"What are you talking about?' she snapped.


Suddenly, the air in the room felt too thick, too tension filled to allow her to breathe. Jonas glanced behind her at Braden.


Jonas's smile was cold. "The Mating isn't going to do her much good unless you carry it through, Braden. Hurry and knock her up before she loses her mind."


None of this was making sense. Jonas wasn't making sense.


"You're pushing me too far, Jonas." Braden's growl was savage, animalistic. "Insult her again and I'll kill you."


Jonas's brow arched, his gaze locked with hers. "Did I insult her? He murmured. "I stated a fact, Braden. You have mated this woman. It's a little-known phenomenon that began with Callan Lyons, the Pride's leader, and his woman. You are both in the middle of Mating Heat. You marked her, kissed her, infected her with that hormone in your tongue that is more binding than marriage. And there's only one cure." His lips curled coldly. "Well, perhaps not a cure exactly, but one of the few hopes of easing the arousal that will become so painful, so debilitating that she'll risk every area of your life. Congratulations, buddy." The last remark lacked any sincerity whatsoever. Not that it mattered.


Shock now filled the room. It slammed into her, ripped through her brain as she turned slowly to meet Braden's gaze and felt the absolute, complete horror that raced from him and struck her mind, blinding her to every other emotion.


His denial was so strong, so fierce, it slapped her like an open-handed blow, pushing her back, reaching into the depths of her soul and withering a hope she hadn't known had bloomed within her.


In that moment, she cursed her abilities with everything she had, just as fiercely as she cursed the men staring back at her.


"I didn't want you either," she finally whispered as something in her soul flamed in agonizing pain, forcing the lie past her lips as she turned and moved jerkily away from him. "What I do want are explanations." She turned to Jonas, blinking back the tears that were gathering in her eyes as she met his flinty look. "Now."


Chapter Nine


Mating Heat. Megan listened in silent shock as Jonas explained the physical symptoms, the need, the arousal and what had caused it. He was very clinical about it. She was thankful that he had asked Lance to leave before explaining more fully.


It began with a certain touch. A kiss, a nip, any caress that allowed the Breed saliva-infused with the hormone that caused the glands at sides of their tongues to swell into a body's system.


The nip on her ear would have done it, perhaps. She remembered the sensitivity of her earlobe after the confrontation, the slow-rising arousal, the clash of emotions that kept her so off balance.


It hadn't exactly begun there. She remembered following Braden


through the tunnels, intrigued by his scent, by the air of danger and excitement that flowed around him. She would have wanted him anyway, but would she have wanted him with the strength she did now?


That quickly?


She risked a quick glance at him and admitted she would have. He had drawn her to him, fascinated her, became a conspirator in adventure within the first half hour of their meeting. And she knew, despite the conflicting emotions raging within her, that the little nip he had given her had little to do with that.


That didn't make his rejection of her easier. Her chest was tight with the tears she was holding back. She assured herself she wasn't going to cry.


Not yet. Though maintaining control on her emotions became harder by the second as Jonas's explanations whipped through her head.


"We've watched the phenomenon advance," Jonas explained as he sat on the edge of the desk, his mocking gaze touching on both of them. "Some of the females it affects with greater strength than others. From the smell of the heat pouring from her, I'd say your woman is one of the strongest."


Now there was one pissed-off Lion Breed. Her eyes followed Braden for long minutes, taking in the emotionless expression, the flat chill in his


eyes and the strength of the barriers he had slammed between her and his own emotions.


And perhaps that was for the best. The rejection had sliced through her with a pain in her chest that she hadn't expected. Forcing the hurt back was next to impossible as she listened to Jonas explain the Mating Heat and its implications.


"Mating Heat means forever, boys and girls," he announced sarcastically.


Megan crossed her arms over her breasts and stared back at Jonas defiantly.


"I can tell you're just thrilled over it too,'' she mocked him coldly, ignoring the odd little glint of amusement that flickered in those icy gray eyes. "What happened Mr. Wyatt, did you suspect this before you came out here and set up this little meeting?'She waved her hand to encompass the three of them. "You knew Lance didn't print out that damned schedule, just as you knew that Braden would discover the fact that I'm an Empath. You came here to be certain that the Mating you suspected had actually happened."


His brow arched. A slow upward tilt that conveyed a sarcastic response more clearly than words.


"I suspected," he admitted with a slow incline of his head as he glanced


at Braden and grimaced. "I was hoping that this time my suspicions would be wrong." His gaze when it returned to her was condemning.


"I'm certain his hopes agree with yours," she snapped as she flipped her hand toward Braden's silent form, covering her hurt with anger. "So find a cure." She ignored the rumbled growl that came from Braden.


Jonas chuckled. There was no mirth to the sound, only mocking knowledge.


"The Breeds have been searching for a cure for more than five years," he said. "There's a ban on this information, Miss Fields. Breaking that ban could and would endanger more lives than just yours or Braden's. It also comes with a rather stiff penalty."


"Oh yeah, I'm just going to run right out and call a press conference," she bit out. "Can the orders, Mr. Wyatt, I'm not in the mood for them."


His eyes narrowed. "For a woman whose abilities cause her to be too frightened to join the real world, you can be rather confrontational, Miss Fields." There was nothing kind about the tight smile that shaped his thin lips.


"Enough, Jonas." Braden's voice was a hard rumble as he shifted from his position against the far wall and stood straight, tense.


He didn't want her, so why protest if another man dared to speak sharply to her? Why protest anything about her period?


"Did I ask for your help?" she snapped before Jonas could speak. She ignored the frown that lowered his brows and had his gold eyes glittering in warning.


"You don't have to ask,'' Braden growled, as though he had rights. As though she were some sort of responsibility now.


"Oh yeah, that's right." She wrinkled her nose sarcastically. "You're my big bad mate now." She gave an exaggerated shiver. "I should be all grateful or something, shouldn't I?"


"Or something," he muttered, eyeing her warily.


"Yeah, especially considering just how enthusiastic you were once Mr. Wyatt here let us in on the secret of that great kiss you're packing. Gee, maybe we should bottle that stuff, Braden. It would sell better than the plastic Breed teeth."


She was aware of Jonas watching the confrontation with interest. If she hadn't disliked him on sight, she would have certainly disliked him now. That, added to the anger rising inside her, wasn't helping her attitude in the least.


"Your mate has a smart mouth, Braden," Jonas commented softly. "You should work on correcting that."


"Yeah, why don't I just do that for you." Braden grunted as he watched her carefully.


"Excuse me boys, I'm still in the room here." She waved her hand at them as she spoke. "The little wornan doesn't need to be spoken over. This Mating Heat or whatever the hell you want to call it hasn't fried my brain in the least."


Braden and Jonas both directed fierce frowns toward her. It could have been cute, if she weren't so pissed off.


"You know, I think I pretty much have the basic information now." She smiled tightly. "He wants me because his hormones are all jacked up, that's all. Hey, no biggie. Nature sucks, right?' She smiled brightly, holding the pain back. "Well, tell you what, Mr. Director of Breed Affairs. Just load your little golden boy right back up in one of those fancy little helicopters I hear you boys fly around in and transport him right back to your nice, secure little compound and see if you can't cure him of it. I'll do just fine on my own. Just like I always have."


She was furious. She wasn't a damned hormone magnet, and she couldn't care less whether Braden liked the effects of some chemical reaction that was all his fault anyway. She hadn't asked him to mess with her life, and she would be damned if she would ask him to continue to be a part of it.


"Just like you always have?' Braden snapped back then, his own voice heating. "Hiding. Aren't you tired of hiding, Megan?"


"Actually, I think I am." She inhaled roughly, facing the two men as she tilted her chin and glared back at them.


"But there's one thing you did teach me, Braden. That little shield of yours is right handy. Given enough time, I'm sure I can copy it. I'm nothing if not adaptable when I have to be. And I can adapt without you."