They were created; they weren't born. They were trained; they weren't raised. They were genetic creations. Human DNA merged with that of the animal. The perfect soldier, a disposable creature. They were created to die, often in the most horrible experiments that the human mind could ever imagine. Their lives were a horror story from the moment of their births. Babes that knew no tender care, no sweet lullabies nor a mother's love. They cried until hoarse, until they learned no one was coming unless they required feeding. And many times, they were allowed to go hungry until they lay weak and in pain. Only the most basic of service was given to the babes. Creations that millions, billions of dollars had gone into in more than a century of scientific experiments and genetic engineering. "Cubs," they were called, never "babes," but they were living beings that, in terms of the cost of their creation, were nearly priceless. Yet in the eyes of those who made them, they were worth no more than the young women who died giving birth to one after another of the creations implanted in their wombs. Human and animal. Determined and far stronger in both spirit and body than the scientists could have ever envisioned. Despite the cruelties heaped upon their young bodies, the experiments, the demented training exercises designed to ensure their success in any mission they were given, many of them survived. The strength of their hatred, of their hunger for freedom, refused to allow them to pass quietly from the world they'd been brought into. Those creations are free now. They're triumphing against all efforts to see them back in the labs from where they came. Their intelligence is far greater than any could ever comprehend. Their strength is more primal than any could ever suspect. And they're living on the fragile, desperate hope that the world never learns the secrets they fight to hide.
Five in the morning was too damned early for a knock on his front door. He
was barely out of bed and showered. His coffee was still dripping into the
cup and he hadn't even had a chance to strap his weapon on.
Cullen Maverick liked things in order whenever possible. It made life a
hell of a lot easier.
Pulling his weapon from his side holster, he made his way to the front
door, confident that if a threat awaited outside, then it wasn't directed by
forces other than a normal workday upheaval. As commander of the Navajo
Covert Law Enforcement Agency, he'd made a few enemies over the years.
Those enemies weren't the ones he watched out for, though. It was the
enemies he'd made as a teenager that worried him.
The knock came again, firm though not masculine in the least.
Recognizing the sound, a direct knock without pounding, he knew instantly
who it was without questioning how he knew. His lips almost quirked into a
smile.
A quick look outside the narrow window next to the door showed a
slender feminine figure dressed in jeans and a light jacket. One of the junior
members of the force, she'd been on a few operations, though he'd refused
to give the go-ahead to move her higher.
Chelsea Martinez, with her black hair, brown eyes and dusky skin of
combined Navajo and Caucasian parents, stared at the door as though she
could will it open. She was a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to
be.
He should know; he was usually the one butting heads with her.
Swinging the door open as he leaned against the side of the wall, he
stared down at her somber, implacable expression with a slight smile.
Dawn was barely lighting the land outside, giving it an otherworldly,
quiet sense of solitude belied by the homes along the side of and facing his
own.
"You didn't call, so I assume this isn't life or death," he remarked when
she just stared up at him silently.
She'd been doing that a lot in the past few months, just staring at him as
though she expected something from him, as though he'd forgotten
something.
She cleared her throat, lips thinning, her gaze sliding from his for just a
second before jerking back.
"I need to talk to you." Quiet, intense, her demeanor wasn't threatening,
just too damned serious.
"Come on, I'll give you the first cup of coffee," he sighed heavily.
No doubt she was there to argue over her place in the Agency again.
She'd been pushing for some of the more dangerous assignments in the past
months. Covert Ops agents were kept quiet. They had no official uniforms,
didn't call attention to themselves. Chelsea was one of their more covert
agents, though she mainly worked in an assistant capacity at the office. She
could streamline files and people like nobody's business. Hell, her name
wasn't even officially listed with the Agency and he liked it that way. It
lessened any danger she might face and ensured he didn't have to worry
about losing a damned good friend because someone else blinked.
She was too young to be part of operations, he'd tried to explain to her,
to make her understand that he couldn't put her in the line of fire until her
training was far more seasoned.
"Here you go." Stepping into the kitchen, he removed that first cup of
coffee and placed it on the round table that sat in the middle of the darkened
room. "Flip a light on if you need to."
He rarely turned the lights on in the place simply because he spent the
least amount of time there as possible. It was a place to sleep and keep the
few possessions he owned. Mainly, his clothes.
Sometimes, the television screen set in the fridge door was on, but not
this morning. He hadn't had time yet to turn it on, and music would get on
his nerves after an hour or so.
"I'm fine," she assured him.
His night vision had improved over the past years. At first, he'd
questioned the change until realizing his twin, Gideon, was in the area. For
some reason the appearance of the Primal Bengal sibling had sharpened a
few of the recessed Breed traits Cullen possessed, but not enough to change
his life. Not enough to worry him.
"Let me get my coffee before we start, minx." He shot her a grin. That
solemn, sad expression was beginning to bother him in ways he couldn't
put a finger on.
"Of course." The answer wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear. "I
know how you are without that first cup."
There was no amusement in her tone, no teasing.
What the hell was up with her?
Leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest,
he frowned at her. Damn, she looked so sad, not angry or upset. There was a
sense of loss emanating from her, and he couldn't find a reason for it.
Pulling the cup free of the coffeemaker when it finished, he lifted it,
sipped and continued to regard her. She wasn't fidgeting in front of him,
wasn't acting in the least nervous as she usually did whenever she was
ready to put forth yet another position she could hold on an operation.
Anything to get her out of the office and to put her training to work, she'd
demand.
She was a member of the Breed Underground, she'd pointed out the last
time. She'd helped move juvenile and adult Breeds more than half a dozen
times, keeping them just ahead of the Genetics Council or pure blood
fanatics searching for them.
And yes, she had done that, but he didn't command the Breed
Underground. He couldn't disqualify her as a member of the forces that
aided hidden Breeds or mates, so he ground his teeth each time she went out
and argued with her cousins over it on a constant basis.
She was too innocent for covert work, too innocent to be scarred by the
crazies in the world.
"Spit it out," he sighed, lowering the cup and facing her quiet, intense
expression. "What have you come up with this time? What argument do
you think will sway me?"
She blinked a few times and if he wasn't mistaken her eyes actually
looked as though-were those tears?
What the hell had happened? Setting his coffee aside, he prepared to act,
to fix whatever had been done to bring tears to her eyes.
"Chelsea?" he questioned gently. "What's going on, honey?"
Cullen watched as she pulled back the front of her jacket, removed a
folded piece of white paper from inside it and slowly laid it on the table.
Cullen swore he felt the need to growl. One of those deep, dark rumbles
of dangerous warning he'd heard come from his twin's throat more than
once.
Every muscle in his body tensed and he knew, knew to the soles of his
damned feet what that simple piece of paper represented.
His gaze lifted to hers once again.
"You don't want to do this, Chelsea," he sighed. "Come on, honey, we
can talk about this."
They had to talk about it.
They were going to talk about it.
He'd be damned if he'd let her-
"It's my resignation from the Agency," she told him, her tone soft but
firm, determined.
She'd made her mind up. By God, she actually thought she'd made her
mind up to leave him-to leave the Agency. That she could just walk away.
He stared at it, glared at it.
If he had his way it would burst into flames and the memory of it would
dissipate along with the paper.
"The hell you are." Lifting his head, he directed that glare at her.
And she met it.
Not once did she flinch or look away. Not one time did she even pretend
to acknowledge his dominance. Hell, she didn't even consider it.
"The Agency isn't going to work for me, Cullen-"
"Because I don't let you run it?" he snapped. "You don't make the
decisions there, girl. If you did, 'Commander' would be sitting in front of
your name instead of mine."
There were times, few though they had been, that standing firm would
encourage her to back down. She had to back down on this.
She nodded sharply. "Agreed. But I never wanted to run it. I just wanted
to be a part of it, not a glorified running girl for you and the other agents.
That's not happening, so it's time I leave."
His jaw tightened with a surge of anger at once confusing and filled with
frustration.
"You won't give it time," he began, his back teeth grinding.
"I don't have any more time to give it, Cullen." Her lips tilted in
remorse as she lifted one hand out to him before dropping it just as quickly.
"It's just time, okay?"
"Time for what?" He stepped closer, though she chose that moment to
look away from him, unaware he was coming closer, that his refusal to
accept this was about to get up close and personal.
"Grandfather agrees it's time I go. That I find my own way . . . Cullen?"
She turned back, her gaze going first to where he was supposed to be, then
to the shadow suddenly at her side.
"Cullen?" Breathless, a woman's sound, one filled with surprise, a bit of
shock and a hint of apprehension as he swung her around, pulling her
against him, letting her feel the erection he had no intention of hiding from
her any longer.
And damn her. Her lips parted; her eyes, like soft melted chocolate,
stared up at him, widening, then turning slumberous as her breathing
escalated, her breasts rising and falling faster as he held her to him.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Chapter 1 Breeds
19/06/2022
Chapter 2 Samara
19/06/2022
Chapter 3 Chelsea
19/06/2022
Chapter 4 Cullen
19/06/2022
Chapter 5 Council misfits
19/06/2022
Chapter 6 Risks
19/06/2022
Chapter 7 Tension
19/06/2022
Chapter 8 First mistake
19/06/2022
Chapter 9 Graeme
19/06/2022
Chapter 10 Loss
19/06/2022
Chapter 11 Cullen
03/07/2022
Chapter 12 Wolf Breeds
03/07/2022
Chapter 13 Coyote
03/07/2022
Chapter 14 Fight at his side
03/07/2022
Chapter 15 Returning to the bedroom.
03/07/2022
Chapter 16 Genetics Council
03/07/2022
Chapter 17 Hunger for her.
03/07/2022
Chapter 18 Stuck with her
03/07/2022
Chapter 19 Swollen clit
03/07/2022
Chapter 20 Mating scent
03/07/2022
Chapter 21 Tight smile
03/07/2022
Chapter 22 Touching her
03/07/2022
Chapter 23 Hell of a time.
03/07/2022
Chapter 24 Sense of despair.
03/07/2022
Chapter 25 Needed touch
03/07/2022
Chapter 26 My coffee
03/07/2022
Chapter 27 Plotting something devious
03/07/2022
Chapter 28 His mate
03/07/2022
Chapter 29 Demanding stare
03/07/2022
Chapter 30 I do want I want
03/07/2022
Chapter 31 Trail of kisses
03/07/2022
Chapter 32 Flat green eyes
03/07/2022
Chapter 33 Cullen in the Agency
03/07/2022
Chapter 34 Undercover
03/07/2022
Chapter 35 Lingering questions
03/07/2022
Chapter 36 Tamed.
03/07/2022
Chapter 37 Defenseless mate
03/07/2022
Chapter 38 Flashing viciously
03/07/2022
Chapter 39 No emotion nor remorse
03/07/2022
Chapter 40 Not in the mood
03/07/2022
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