Buried and Shadowed (Branded Packs #3)

His good mood instantly vanished.

Mira was a human female who worked for the CDC in Fort Collins. Over the past two years, he’d made it his mission to seduce her. Not physically. Or at least, not yet. No. It’d been an emotional seduction, using the shy computer expert’s vulnerable feelings for him to convince her to become a spy for the shifters.

He’d deliberately put her in danger, and now she was out of touch.

During his grueling journey from compound to compound, he’d tried to ignore the fact that he hadn’t been able to contact the female. It was the only way to complete his duty without going nuts. Now, he unleashed his iron control and allowed the full impact of his concern for Mira to slam into him.

He was an Alpha of an outlaw Pack that had infiltrated the SAU. He was on the verge of risking open war with the humans. There was no doubt that he was accustomed to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

But this worry for Mira…

It burned like acid in the pit of his stomach.

Without bothering to knock, he shoved the door of the cabin open and stepped inside.

Rios was already on his feet. There was no way to sneak up on a shifter. Especially not the edgy jaguar who was addicted to coffee and soccer.

The tall, slender male with dark hair clipped close, black eyes, and rich, golden brown skin left the bank of computers that were lined against a paneled wall to stroll forward.

Across the room were more computers and various monitors, and stacks of servers that filled the air with a low hum.

“Welcome back, amigo,” the younger male said.

“Have you heard from Mira?” Sinclair demanded in clipped tones.

A dark brow arched, golden eyes glowing with a wry humor.

“Hey, Rios. Good to see you. And thanks for holding down the fort while I was gone,” Rios mocked Sinclair’s lack of manners.

Not that Sinclair gave a shit. He wasn’t Alpha because of his good looks and charming personality.

He was Alpha because he was a ruthless predator that preferred to kill first and ask questions later.

He narrowed his eyes in warning. “Well?”

“Not a word.”

“Damn.”

Rios studied him with a searching gaze. “It’s just been a couple of weeks since you last saw her,” he pointed out. “What’s got you so wound up?”

Sinclair abruptly moved to stand at the window that offered a perfect view of the waterfall. It wasn’t the beauty of nature, however, that had him turning away from his friend. Nope. It was his need to hide his fierce emotions.

“She’s been taking too many risks lately,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. The last time he’d met with Mira, she’d done her best to dismiss her concerns, but he’d known that she was worried. Hell, he’d been worried when she confessed that she’d ordered computers from Novo-Auction that contained hard drives that had survived the purge. It was exactly the sort of thing that would attract the attention of the SAU. Frustration, and something far more dangerous boiled through him. “I’m afraid she’s attracted the attention of our enemies.”

“Fine,” Rios conceded. “I’ll go check on her.”

“No. You stay here.” Sinclair turned. “I’ll go.”

Rios scowled, folding his arms over his chest. Dressed in a Denver Broncos sweatshirt and a pair of loose sweatpants, he should have looked like a typical computer geek. But no one could miss the lethal power that smoldered in his golden eyes and crackled in the air around his lean body.

“You just got back,” he said.

Weariness wrapped around Sinclair like a shroud. He’d barely slept in the past two weeks. But there was no way in hell he was staying here when Mira might need him.

“I’m aware of that,” he forced himself to retort. “I promise I’ll shower and change before I head out.”

Rios refused to be distracted. “That’s not what I meant.”

Sinclair heaved a sigh. “Just spit it out, Rios.”

Rios took a step forward. “You’re the Alpha.”

“And?”

“And if this female’s been compromised then you can’t risk exposing yourself,” Rios said, the air prickling with the heat of the younger male’s inner cat. “Not until we’ve done our Grand Reveal.”

Sinclair blinked. “Grand Reveal?”

Rios gave a wave of his hands. “Every turning point in history has a name,” he explained. “D-Day. Remember the Alamo. Let them eat cake.”

“Hmm.” Sinclair had to admit that the next few days promised to become the stuff written in textbooks. But he wasn’t fond of the title. A grand reveal sounded more like something that happened in a strip club. “I might have to re-think our history program.”

Rios moved to grab Sinclair’s shoulder. “Your place is here, Sinclair,” he said in low tones. “Let someone else take care of the female.”

Sinclair’s hands clenched, the need to find Mira becoming an overwhelming compulsion.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”