Carnal Secrets (The Phoenix Pack #3)(87)
Author: Suzanne Wright

“Likewise,” drawled Stone, sounding not at all honest.

Nick then turned his attention to Shaya’s mother, and he wished he hadn’t. The woman was practically sneering at her daughter, a statue of disapproval. His wolf growled, wanting Nick to warn her against hurting his mate. Nick was about to do just that when Shaya slipped her hand into his again and gave it a double-squeeze—a clear “please leave it.”

“Mom, Nick. Nick, this is Gabrielle.”

He merely exchanged a curt nod with the female. “Shall we sit?” Without waiting for a response, Nick took the chair opposite the one her father had claimed. The others quickly returned to their seats. Before anyone could speak, the door opened and Taryn entered. Going to stand beside Roni, she nodded at Stone in greeting, who returned the nod.

“Hello, Taryn,” said Gabrielle, flicking her braid of red curls over her shoulder.

Taryn gave her a withering look. “Mmm-hmm.”

Stone leaned back in his seat, arms folded across his chest. “So…you’ve finally decided to claim Shaya. I’m interested to know what took you so long.” It wasn’t a query, it was a reproach delivered with a snarl.

“Then you should ask Shaya in private,” advised Nick.

“I’m asking you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t explain myself to other people—only to Shaya.”

Stone narrowed his eyes, his gaze studious, but he said nothing. Nick had the feeling that his answer had won a little of Stone’s respect…or maybe the guy just liked that although Nick was a bastard, he wouldn’t be one to Shaya.

“How’ve you both been?” Shaya asked her parents, smiling, breaking the awkward silence. The tension in the air was practically crackling. Having Nick’s arm draped over the back of her chair and his fingers playing with her hair was a comfort she so needed right then.

Gabrielle answered instantly. “If you must know, I don’t feel good at all—not that you truly care. I haven’t slept in weeks. No doubt it’s stress, seeing as my own daughter has left me and barely answers my calls.”

Shaya held her smile in place. “Forgive me if I don’t enjoy being insulted and sent on a guilt trip for having my own life.”

“You’ve always been selfish and difficult,” Gabrielle claimed. “Never sensitive to my predicaments.”

Sensing Nick’s irritation building, Shaya squeezed his thigh under the table. “Have you consulted a healer?” It was second nature to feign interest.

“Yes. He said there’s nothing wrong with me.” She huffed. “Can you believe that?”

Well, yeah, Shaya could.

“What is it you believe is wrong with you?” rumbled Nick, wanting the woman’s focus away from Shaya. He had no tolerance for people who faked ill-health when there were so many people out there who were truly ill.

“I have a thyroid problem, I know I have. I don’t care what the healer said, I know my own body. And I checked my symptoms on the Internet. Maybe Taryn can take a look at me while I’m here.”

The Alpha female merely made a noncommittal sound.

“So you no longer believe you have heart failure, deep vein thrombosis, and a fractured ankle?” asked Shaya dryly. She hated herself for being frustrated and angry with her mother, but she’d really had enough of the emotional manipulation. The number of times Shaya had heard the words “I think I’m dying” was unreal, but there had never been a single thing wrong.

In the past, Shaya had over and over rushed Gabrielle to a healer; by the time they arrived there, her mother had gone from weak and pitiful to excited and chipper—she loved the attention. It had gotten to the point where Shaya’s life had revolved around Gabrielle and her “conditions.” It was part of the reason why Shaya had switched to the Phoenix Pack, though she had still gone to visit her mother at least every other day, feeling guilty if she didn’t.

Of course when Shaya moved to Arizona, there was no one to fuss around Gabrielle—Stone certainly didn’t “entertain her dramatics,” as he referred to it. As she’d expected, Gabrielle hated that. She believed she was entitled to Shaya’s time, attention, and aid. Gabrielle looked about to reprimand Shaya, but then Stone was speaking again. Not to Shaya, but to Nick.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Nick recognized that deceptively friendly tone all too well. He’d used it himself with the web designer. “I’m not applying for the position of being your daughter’s mate. I am her mate. We’ve claimed each other. If you want to ask me questions for no other reason than that you’d like to get to know me, I’d be happy to answer them.”

Stone smiled, making Shaya tense. “I tried to do a background check on you.” His tone was even, calm—that meant bad things, she knew. “No one would tell me anything. Why is that?”

Nick didn’t answer. He just smiled.

“If you have more contacts and allies than I do—and I have a lot—you must have won the loyalty of many people. All I’m really interested in knowing is if you’ve won the loyalty of my daughter and if you plan to give her the same in return.”

“Shaya’s always had my loyalty.”

“And he has mine,” Shaya told her father, leaning against Nick for a few seconds.

“You believe he deserves it?” It was a genuine question from Stone.

She nodded. “He hurt me, but he had his reasons for not claiming me—good ones. It’s complicated.”

Stone sighed, grumbling, “It always is with male shifters.”

Nick noticed his mate’s smile of amusement and gave her a mock scowl.

“What about you, Taryn?” asked Stone. “If anyone’s as protective of Shaya as I am—other than Nick here of course”—said with so much patronization that Marcus almost choked on a laugh—“it’s you. Is he worthy of her?”

Taryn snorted. “No one’s worthy of Shaya. But she’s right—he had his reasons for not claiming her initially. He’s proven over and over that she comes first. Also, he’s totally whipped, if that makes you feel any better.”

Nick scowled at the blonde. “I’m not whipped.”

“Of course you’re not,” placated Shaya, patting his arm, “you’re just well trained.” She laughed at his low growl. Turning to her father, she said, “I wanted to tell you, I have an interview for a mediator position. If I get it—”