Say You're Mine Read online

  They laughed until Regina spoke. “He’s watching you.”

  Unease slithered up her spin and Dyana forced herself not to turn around. She did steal a glance in the side mirror, however. Her body tensed and she shivered.

  “You okay, hon?” Shyla asked.

  “Hmm? Yes, fine.” She fought the urge to rub her arms.

  “We can let Markus know.” Regina glanced at her.

  She chewed on her thumbnail and shifted a bit to alleviate the pain in her leg. Marked. That’s how she felt. And it was more than a bit unnerving.

  “Yes. Swing by the station.”

  “I was going to anyway.”

  Dyana smiled at Regina’s comment. “I know you were.” These two were her family, her counsel, and her best friends.

  Regina turned up the music as they left the party. It was cool enough for her jacket but not cold enough for the top. So, she enjoyed the wind flowing over her. Crisp weather was her favorite, it made her feel so alive.

  Twenty minutes later, they whipped into the police department parking lot. With a deep breath, Dyana headed for the door as her girls followed. Pushing into the station, she glanced around. It was quiet despite being a Saturday night.

  “Markus, you here?”

  “Gettin’ coffee. Come on back.”

  They went through the swinging door and met him in the break room. Markus Colter was a good sheriff. He’d taken over for his daddy five years ago. A handsome man with his thick black hair and muscular build.

  He added a liberal amount of sugar then lifted his head. “My three fave gals. What can I do for you?”

  “Yana has a stalker,” Shyla blurted out.

  All trace of welcome and humor vanished in the space of a heartbeat. “Repeat that?”

  “A stalker.” Shyla gave her a pointed look.

  “I don’t think it’s fair to call him that, exactly.” Why those words had slipped from her mouth, she hadn’t a clue.

  “The hell it isn’t. He was in the coffee house, on the street, and at the party—which is small and quiet, Sheriff.”

  “If he was a stalker, Shyla, why would he have given his name?” she protested. Why was she protecting him? She didn’t know since earlier she’d called him that same thing.

  “Casimir Lars,” Regina said. “Probably a made up name.”

  “Don’t forget he’s claiming to be your husband.” Shyla’s interjection wasn’t needed. Nor appreciated.

  Dyana rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “I thought I was supposed to talk to Markus.”

  “You’re not talkin—”

  “Stop.” Markus held up a finger, shushing Shyla. “I need to see if I have this straight. Out and take a seat.”

  Obediently they went to the main part of the station and each took a chair. Markus sat on the edge of the desk and leaned in close.

  “Start over, Dyana.”

  Why were her hands shaking? She dampened her lips and looked to her friends for encouragement.

  “He was—as Shyla said—at my table inside the coffee shop. Didn’t say anything although he looked as if he wanted to speak, he didn’t.” She readjusted her seat and hooked her ankles before her. “He showed up again outside Loralee’s stall. It was there he told me his name. Like I should know it. Then once more at the party where he also informed me he was my husband. Later on it became I needed to go with him to Washington. That’s when we left and came here.”

  Markus frowned. “Are you sure of the name?”

  “Yes. Casimir Lars.”

  Markus appeared uncomfortable and a bit worried. She’d known him long enough to recognize the look.

  “Do you know him?”

  “Heard of him.”

  Something in his tone alerted her to the fact he wasn’t being entirely honest with her. And it wasn’t solely because he wouldn’t meet her gaze—although that had to do with it. He suddenly became fidgety, messing with the handle of his mug and twitching his foot.

  She leaned back and crossed her arms. “If you can just—I don’t know—make sure I don’t disappear, I’d be grateful.”

  “Right. Y’all should get goin’. I’ll head out to the party and see if he’s still there or not.”

  She licked her lips. “And if he is?”

  “Then I’ll have a word with him. Sheriff to visitor.”

  This was the Markus she recalled. Protective. Sure of himself. Not the one who appeared nervous by her pronouncement.

  “Thanks, Markus.”

  He flashed a familiar grin. “You sure you didn’t go off and get married without telling us?”

  She raised a brow. “Positive.”

  He winked and drained his coffee. “Go home. Sleep. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Dyana rose and kissed him on the cheek. “Bye, Markus.”

  They all walked outside and leaned against the vehicle.

  Shyla tapped her foot on the dirt parking lot. “You want us to stay with you tonight?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. I mean, you can stay if you want but I don’t need you to.”

  “We’re staying.” They spoke as one unit.

  “Of course you are.” Her response came with a smile.

  Once at her small house, they whipped up breakfast. Not for any other reason than breakfast was an awesome meal, anytime one ate it. Dyana made sure they were settled before she went and began massaging her leg. The dancing was going to cost her. She grinned. It had been well worth it.

  Chapter Two

  “Hello?” Casimir answered without looking at the screen.

  “Hey, lover,” the husky voice belonging to Jetje said. “Did you get it?”

  “Not yet.”

  A grumble crossed the line and he frowned. Jetje was already anticipating being the Alpha’s mate. His mate. She was an alpha but he’d noticed a mean streak in her lately. Firm hand was one thing. Being mean, an entirely different matter.

  “What’s she like?”

  The question gave him pause. “Just a woman. Paps said I had to bring her there, you can find out for yourself.”

  This time it was a full-on growl. “Why are you bringing her here?”

  Both Casimir and his wolf bared their teeth. “You do not question my actions,” he said on a dangerous thread.

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t understand why she is coming here.”

  “Paps said the papers have to be signed there. I have to go.” He hung up. Ignoring his angry wolf, Casimir walked back to his car. She’d left again and he wasn’t pleased. Why did she need to make it so damn difficult?

  A figure stepped from the dark shadows and he found himself staring at a man with a badge on his chest.

  “Yes?”

  “What’s your business with Dyana Vance?”

  The posture and the attitude were expected; it was, after all, this man’s town to protect. However, neither man nor beast liked being challenged.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because it’s my job to protect my residents. I know who you are, Mr. Lars. Let me tell you how little I care how much money you have. You scare my girl again and I’ll lock you up.”

  “Your girl?”

  “Dyana.”

  His gaze narrowed. “She is my wife and my responsibility to protect.” He couldn’t explain his need to claim her.

  “Your wife? Protect? You know nothing about her nor have you been protecting her. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but if you kidnap her and try to take her from here, things won’t go well for you. No matter what your kind can do.”

  So this man knew he was a shifter. “Are you threatening me?”

  The sheriff adjusted his stance, his hand resting upon the butt of his weapon. “Nope, that’s a promise. We’re protective of our women here. Don’t make a mistake you’ll end up regretting.”

  “Goodnight, Sheriff.” He went to his car and slid behind the wheel. So far this expedition sucked.

  As he drove he wondered if he should be concerned
about his wolf’s unemotional response to Jetje when he heard her voice. They would lead his pack but there was no all-consuming need with her wolf as others had told him happened to them when they found their mates.

  Their wolves liked one another but that was it. Since he’d stopped their physical relationship the moment he learned he had a wife, he’d been a bit surprised by his lack of desire for sex.

  Jetje hadn’t been pleased by his decision but he refused to violate his marriage vows. He’d be lying if his “wife” didn’t stir him a bit. He wasn’t putting a lot of stock in it for her friends did as well. It had been a while since he had a woman.

  I have to talk to her. He parked his car at his hotel and stayed in until he was confident the one following him for the sheriff thought he’d bedded down for the night. Then he slipped out and shifted.

  His wolf responded, eager to run and get his exercise. He ran aimlessly for a while before he began to hunt for her. His wife.

  After a good thirty minutes of searching he came back upon her scent. The convertible sat out front, engine cold and quiet, just like the house. Small, it blended in fairly well with the landscape. Nothing pretentious, just a simple place.

  Ensuring he was the only one lurking around, he went to each window until discovering the one she slept behind. The window was low and he could see in from the ground. Moonlight threw a silver cast over her sleeping form.

  She slept on her left side, hands folded beneath her chin. A small section of her hair fell across her face. Again he checked with his wolf, who sensed nothing wolf within her.

  Long curved lashes graced her cheeks as she lay there. Her skin flawless, a somewhat flatter nose and full lips. Why had she been married to him? Why did his grandparents do it?

  Even his wolf was perplexed. Why her?

  The sounds of her stirring woke him. He was shocked to learn he’d fallen asleep outside her window. Morning’s sun had barely begun to creep over the horizon. Wonder why she’s up.

  He moved away from her window and went to watch the door. Sure enough, ten minutes later, she walked outside. The bow she held in her hand grabbed his attention. She limped past him, adjusting the music in her ears.

  He trailed her, noticing the limp as she walked. It didn’t fade but it definitely lessened. When they came to an archery set up, he backed off even more and headed for his hotel, not wanting—or needing—to be naked in public when the sun came up.

  He showered and dressed in swift fashion. The morning was cooler and he remembered she’d been without a jacket. Casimir went to his car and drove to her place, the convertible still there. He could sense no movement inside.

  He took the trail, he’d done once today already as a wolf and came upon her as she yanked arrows from a target. She wasn’t pleased with herself, he knew that much.

  “Morning, Dyana.”

  She whirled toward him, eyes wide. He caught a whiff of fear before anger took over.

  “You! What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I told you we need to talk.”

  Had he blinked, he would have missed it. She had an arrow notched and aimed at him. Unerringly at his head.

  Impressive.

  “What part of I’m not going with you didn’t you understand?” Her gaze unwavering.

  “Do you think that will stop me?”

  Her grin, feral. “Come closer and find out.”

  His wolf perked up again. “Talk,” he said. “That’s it.”

  “So talk.” Her posture didn’t relax any.

  “I know this is a lot for you.”

  “A stalker? Yes, it’s a bit new for me.”

  “I. Am. Not. A. Stalker.”

  “Of course not. I gave you my address. Oh, wait…no I didn’t.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Listen to me. I don’t know”—he gestured at her—“can you lower that?”

  “Sure can.”

  He waited and she didn’t move. “Well?”

  “I said I could, not that I would.”

  He ground his teeth and dug for the patience he wasn’t known for. “Would you?”

  She mulled it over. “You stay over there.”

  “Fine.” He breathed easier when she lowered it. Casimir knew he could always use wolf speed to get to her.

  Dyana finished gathering her arrows, and making a wide berth around him, went back to the position he’d left her at. He took a step toward her only to pause when she flexed her fingers on the bow and reached for an arrow in the quiver on her leg. He held still and she breathed easier.

  His wolf showed he was impressed with her not willing to back down.

  “We were married twenty-five years ago.” She rolled her eyes. “We were, our grandparents did this.” He sensed the change in her attention.

  Having gone through all he did to become his pack’s Alpha, Casimir had gone through quite a bit. Her response wasn’t what he’d expected. Not in any way.

  The arrow she loosed at his head took him by complete surprise. Only because of his supernatural speed did the razor-sharp point sink into the tree bark trunk behind him. Refocusing his attention back on her, he saw another in the bow, ready to be released.

  At my head.

  “What the fuck?” He forced himself to remain still.

  “You have two minutes. Don’t mention my grandparents again.”

  His wolf bared its teeth and rumbled as he paced within.

  “You want me to explain without using an integral part of my explanation?”

  “One-thirty and counting.” She lowered the bow from shooting position but he wasn’t fooled. She was wicked fast.

  “Ours was an arranged marriage.” No word from her. “Between my grandparents and yours.”

  Again, she barely even blinked. His wolf growled again, this time because of danger. Casimir scented and bared his teeth. The same odor from before in town. The air was still and he stared at her.

  Dyana watched him through narrowed eyes. Her mistrust and suspicion positively blatant.

  “Go home.”

  “Fuck you. You go. This is my home.”

  “Go!” He snapped the order, expecting to be obeyed.

  She yawned and walked toward him. Distracted by her disobedience and her nearness he almost missed the glint. Almost. Even as he moved, Casimir was pissed. Who the fuck was shooting at them? Slugs burrowed into the trees around them.

  “What the fuck! Get off me!”

  “Shh!”

  She stiffened beneath him but he stayed focused on their surroundings. Whomever it was had vanished. Casimir rolled to his feet and offered a hand—one she ignored—to Dyana. He watched her get to her own feet. Twigs and a few leaves dangled from her hair and shirt.

  “Are you alright?” He had this overwhelming need to inspect her from head to toe and ensure her complete wellness.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” she snapped.

  He snarled. “You’re welcome. I saved your life.”

  “Nobody was after me until you showed.”

  She readjusted her bow. Her words gave him pause and he frowned. What reason would someone be after him for? A twig snapped and he thrust her behind him, again, a nearly overwhelming need to protect her coursed through him. Nothing was there. He reached behind for her only to grasp air.

  Dyana stood off to his left, head raised to the south. A breeze blew, ruffling her hair and carrying with it the scent—one he couldn’t identify—of hers. The sun gleamed off the gold streaks in her hair. Her bow prepped to be drawn.

  For a moment, he stood there and ogled her. Despising his attraction, he stepped toward her when the entire area rocked with an explosion.

  “Shyla! Regina!” She ran toward her house, bow discarded on the ground.

  Casimir ran before her, still needing to protect. The destruction that they came upon—hideous. The corvette convertible smoldered in pieces and the house burned.

  “No!” Dyana moved by him and he snagged an arm around her waist. Her c
urves pressed tight to him. “I have to—”

  “Stay put. I will go. You stay here.” No room for argument in his mind.

  Without waiting to see if she obeyed he ran toward the burning home. Kicking aside the remnants of the charred door, he utilized all his senses to find her friends. His wolf—alert—snarled low as they searched.

  “No!”

  The cry spurred him to an immediate sprint. He bolted into the sunlight searching for Dyana. By the vehicle, she knelt on the ground by the bloody body of Regina. The woman was dead, he could see that from his distance. Dyana still placed her fingers on the neck, checking for a pulse. He knew she wouldn’t locate one.

  Sirens screamed and he went back in to find her other friend. Also deceased. He bent and carried her out. When Dyana saw him, she pushed up and made her way to his side. Her limp distinguishable but her face unreadable.

  She searched his face and he shook his head. Her brows converged and he knew she fought tears. The cop car led the way up her drive and he placed Shyla on the ground as Dyana was wrapped up by Markus’ arms.

  Unsettled, he made his way to her side. Markus glared at him over her head.

  “You. What are you doing here?”

  Up and down Markus ran his hands along her back. Casimir didn’t care to even explain his feelings. “I came to talk to my wife.” He reached out and removed her from the familiar embrace. Her resistance was negligible as he pressed her face to his chest.

  “Wife?” Markus growled.

  “Mine.” His wolf rumbled in agreement.

  αβ

  What the fuck happened? Dyana struggled to breath. Dead. Explosions. Dead. Regina and Shyla taken from her. Their bodies mangled and limp. Had he not shown up, she would be lying there as well. Guilt assuaged her and her belly heaved. Her legs trembled and she tightened her fingers on the coat of the man holding her. Leather? Markus didn’t have a leather jacket on.

  Nor did he smell so good. The scent of burning materials and charred flesh were no longer prevalent in her nose. Instead it had been replaced by a compilation of crisp clean air and pungent pine. Wilderness. Freedom. And masculinity.

  She jerked away and stared up at him. His bold blue eyes waited for her. Was it her imagination or did she witness compassion in their depths. Past him, men put out the flames and the EMT’s zipped up the body bags. A sight which spurred her into action. Ignoring her screaming leg, she ran to the only two she trusted with all of her secrets and fears, her best friends in the entire world. Her entire world.