Styx's Storm (Breeds 16)

Styx lowered his head, drawing in the scent of his mate as he thanked God that the other women were safe and unharmed.

"They were after the children and mates," Navarro growled. "Marx hadn't been aware Storme was there until the party. Gena was in on the attack from the beginning."

Styx stroked his hand down her back, feeling the fragility of her small body, terror still racing through him at the thought of how easily she could have been taken from him.

That last blast had sent debris raining around them. He'd tried to shelter Storme from the worst of it, but a heavy piece of timber had struck his back and neck, knocking him out cold.

He'd left his mate undefended.

How the hell was he supposed to forgive himself for that? For the fact that he hadn't been there when Storme needed him, when the danger to her had been at its height.

"It won't happen again, Styx," Navarro assured him. "Ghost Team was unaware of her status. She was considered a captive, not a mate."

Therefore the priority placed on her life had been lower than that of the mated females and children that were rushed to safety. Because he had allowed her to hide from the packs rather than pulling her into the integrated society being established within Haven.

"No, it won't happen again," he agreed, his voice hardening as the heli-jet landed. "Never again, Navarro. I will see to it personally."

The heavy doors slid open at the wide stone walk that led to the front doors.

Cradling Storme against his chest, he moved from the heli-jet as Navarro ran ahead of him to open the doors to the house.

Around them, trees and cabins lay in ruins. The beauty and unique design of the main community had been wounded. It would be built back, but they would never forget that once again one of their own had betrayed them.

Stepping into the house, he was aware of Navarro closing the door behind him, and for the first time since moving into the spacious cabin Styx locked the door before carrying his precious burden to the bedroom.

As he neared the bedroom door, he almost came to a hard stop at the scent that filtered from the bedroom.

"Styx?" Cassie was waiting in the room, curled in one of the large easy chairs that sat along the side of the room.

"Go home, Cassie." He couldn't deal with anyone but his mate right now. With anything but assuring himself that she was simply exhausted, her body fighting off the effects of the sedative he could sense in her system.

Cassie rose slowly to her feet as Styx laid Storme in their bed and smoothed back the long strands of black hair from her pale, dirt-smeared face.

"Listen to me, Styx." Cassie moved behind him, her voice quiet, saddened. "She believes you're dead. That was why she escaped as she did in unconsciousness. She couldn't face any more. She's reached the end of a very long road."

Cassie sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze compassionate as it rested on Storme.

"Cassie, whatever the reason, she'll awaken," he assured her. "I'll ensure it. Now you need to return to the bunker. I'm certain your parents are looking for you."

"You still talk to me as though I'm a child," she said and sighed. "No one understands Breed Law as well as I, nor can anyone else hear the secrets I hear, yet you continue to speak to me and to act as though I'm still nine."

"Or refusing to do as I ask so I can have a moment alone with my mate," he growled in exasperation.

"Perhaps one of these days someone will find it in them to treat me as an adult," she snorted before rising from the bed. "I just thought I should tell you that it will be a girl."

Styx froze before lifting his head slowly and staring back at her in shock. "What did you say?"

"Figure it out." She glared back at him.

He straightened, tensing. "She's going to become pregnant?"

Cassie rolled her eyes. "She's already pregnant, big boy. You and your little mate are about to become yet another scientific wonder. Contact your grandfather, perhaps he can figure out why. And don't worry about mating heat, or the hormones. It's only going to make her more unique."

She turned then and stalked from the bedroom with an air of offended feminine outrage, and he only barely noticed.

His eyes were on his mate. His entire being was concentrated on his mate as he tried to draw in the scent of new life.

And there it was. Subtle, so very new, no more than days.