Snow Leopard's Lady (Veteran Shifters 1)

“I am,” Mavis said positively.

And she felt like she was. It was crazy. Just having Wilson there suddenly made everything seem ten times easier.

Part of it was just that he’d insisted on taking care of all of the headachey administrative stuff himself. He’d booked the tickets and set up a rental car, gotten them a hotel room, worked out a place where they could stop and pick up a few boxes on the way, and generally made it so that it should be easy to get over to the house, get her things, and leave with minimal fuss.

Mavis had started to object to him paying for all of the travel fees as well, but he’d asked her to look on it as a gift.

“I can’t go back in time and undo what he did to you,” he said with quiet intensity. “I can’t get the police to cart him away for putting his own daughter on the streets. I know I can’t start a fight with him once we get there, as much as I want desperately to teach him a lesson—” He’d given her a questioning look, and she’d seen the anger lurking underneath it.

But Mavis had shook her head, semi-regretfully. She’d love for someone to give Daryl a seeing-to, but she didn’t want to have to watch it happen, and she definitely didn’t want Wilson to have to deal with any consequences for doing it.

“Well, then, I need to do something in exchange for not being able to do any of that. So I’m doing this.” His tone had been firm, and Mavis had finally nodded her acceptance.

So that was all taken care of for her.

It was completely bizarre. She’d spent seven years all alone, having turned her heart to stone so she didn’t break down completely over the fact that she was living with the man who’d forced her daughter away.

And then, once she’d left him, she’d handled the divorce proceedings herself as well. She’d wanted to shield Nina from even hearing about anything Daryl was doing, so she’d never mentioned one single thing about the divorce to anyone in Montana.

But suddenly, she wasn’t just able to talk about it, she was getting help. It made her want to start crying.

Now, though, it wasn’t the time for tears. It was time for action.

They made their way off the plane—Wilson took her overnight bag, holding it in one hand while he kept Mavis’ hand clasped in the other—got their rental car, and drove to the hotel where they were spending the night. Mavis was learning that traveling with a member of the military was very different from just traveling by herself: every ticket agent and rental employee and hotel concierge seemed to jump to attention, saying, “Yes, Colonel,” and, “Absolutely, Colonel,” and, “Let me just see if I can get that upgraded for you, Colonel. Thank you for your service.”

Wilson was always calmly gracious in the face of it, saying to Mavis afterward, “It’s a little embarrassing sometimes. I just have an office job like anyone else’s, these days. With a better pension plan, no less.”

“But you served in combat,” Mavis pointed out. “They’re honoring that.”

“Well,” he said, and that was all, but Mavis felt like it was nothing more than his due.

Finally, though, all of the little things were taken care of. They were checked in to their hotel, they had the rental car, they’d stopped for boxes, and they were on their way to the house.

Mavis felt anxiety rising in her as the car headed into her old neighborhood. She’d lived here for decades—and felt the worst pain of her life here.

“All right?” Wilson asked softly, and she just nodded, not trusting her voice.

He found the address easily, not needing any directions from her, and pulled into the driveway. Daryl’s car was already there, so he must be home.

Wilson turned off the car and looked at her. “If you want to leave at any point, tell me and we’ll leave,” he said steadily. “If Daryl makes any threats, or threatening moves, towards you, then I’ll step up and stop him.”

“No violence,” Mavis said, her voice shaky.

“I promise.” His voice was steady as a rock, and it calmed her somehow, leaving her certain that if something did go wrong, he’d take care of it without any trouble. “I’ve been a Marine for decades. I know how to defuse a situation without having to resort to violence. You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything, all right? If there’s a problem, you won’t be in any danger.”

“All right.” She already felt better, like his assurance was filling her up with warmth and courage.

He reached out, raising his eyebrows, and Mavis took his hand with a little smile and squeezed. It already felt like a ritual, the way they linked their fingers together during important moments.

She looked forward to repeating that ritual for years and years to come.

And that was what really calmed her. She didn’t need to worry about Daryl.

She had her mate with her. And he was going to be with her forever, from now on.

"Let's get this over with," she said to Wilson, and she could hear the confidence in her own voice as she opened the door and got out.

She rang the doorbell. On the one hand, it was strange: she was ringing the bell to the house where she'd lived for years.