The Cougar's Pawn by Holley Trent Read Free Book Online Page B

she wanted from them.
    Mason didn’t want to die as a cat. He just wasn’t optimistic. Most Cougar men somehow managed to sweet-talk their captures into staying—into
understanding
—but no one had ever accused the Foyes of talking pretty. They didn’t have to talk pretty. Power was enough for most women. Ellery didn’t seem to be so entranced by it, though, and maybe that was because she had her own. He’d never heard of an alpha taking a witch mate. If they had, they certainly would have bragged about it. Mason certainly didn’t intend to. If he were lucky, he’d find a loophole and get himself out of the mess. Ellery was hardly a fate worse than death, but he was
so
not ready to be anyone’s mate, especially not hers. He couldn’t handle her on top of all his other responsibilities. Didn’t want to try.
    He got out of the truck, left the door slightly ajar so as no to wake her with the slam, and ran around to the front of the building. The gas station was actually a rest stop that housed a small restaurant Jill frequented. The food sucked, but she’d eat anything. Coyotes weren’t picky like Cougars. Cougars only ate what they trusted.
    He found her in her usual booth, bent over a nearly gone blue-plate special, with Nick in his high chair at the end of the table.
    Mason scooped him up, and held his tongue about the baby’s state of dress—just a too-large T-shirt and a diaper which looked to be full. She always either underdressed him or overdressed him, as if she had no awareness of the temperature and how it affected humans. And that’s what Nick was. He’d never be Cougar and never be Coyote, not without intervention. Born Coyotes needed two coyote parents, and with their gene pool becoming smaller with each passing year, the chances of a full-blooded Coyote being born was slim. He could always be made into one as an adult with a bite or deep enough scratch, but Mason didn’t see that happening. He wouldn’t let that happen. Not to
his
son.
    Nick would never be Cougar, either, because he lacked the genetic trigger. It only conveyed when a Cougar was with his mate. Jill hadn’t been it for Mason, but he’d never meant for her to be. She’d been a one-night-stand, and his cat half wanted to leave it at that.
    He tweaked Nick’s nose and took the bag Jill handed over to him.
    She didn’t even look up.
    “Where’s his car seat?”
    “Backseat. Door’s open.”
    “Kinda have my hands full. Can you get it?”
    “I’ve had my hands full for weeks.”
    Mason ground his teeth. Tempered his words. “How long do I have him this time?”
    “I dunno. I’ll call you. Me and the gang might ride the bikes up to Sturgis.”
    “Have fun.”
    “Yep.”
    He left the restaurant without another word. Arguing with Jill was pointless. Coyotes tended to be far better parents in their animal forms than in their people forms. Flightiness was in her wiring. Most of the time, she was a competent-enough parent, but he did worry about the
rest
of the time. Nick couldn’t shift along with her, so her being a good Coyote mama didn’t do him a damn bit of good.
    Mason dropped the bag next to Jill’s trunk and one-handedly wrestled the car seat out of the vehicle.
    It was facing the wrong way, as always. He always installed it rear-facing, but every time he fetched Nick, he’d find it turned the other way. Nick was such a scrawny thing. Mason wished she would take more care. Wished he could just … take him from her. But, that just wasn’t done with their kind. Not without causing ill will between the two groups, and that was the last thing the Cougars needed. More drama. As Alpha, he’d been trying to tamp down the amount of drama in the group since his father died—to make the Cougars at least a little bit civilized. They couldn’t be fighting over women and territory all the time as if they didn’t have human brains. He was trying to put a stop that shit. No one seemed to be appreciating it. There was