“Fighters do.” Spike pulled a black shirt on over his head and unfolded its Harley logo down his chest.

“You’re more than just a fighter.”

“I know that.”

“Well, I want to be more than a fighter’s girlfriend. What does Gavan want you to do? Explain. I’ll get it.”

Spike let out a sigh, letting go of his stubborn, cryptic look. “He wants me to win fights against strategic targets. He believes that will weaken these Shifters in everyone’s mind, so when he challenges them for dominance, they’ll already know they weren’t as strong as they thought they were, and give him a better chance. Dominance isn’t only about strength—it’s about convincing others you can best them without it having to come to a fight. He’s offered to let me become his champion, so I get to be right there next to him when he takes over—after I help him take over. He’ll be leader of his Shiftertown, and I’ll be his second and his enforcer.”

Myka listened in silence, her alarm building. Spike turned to a small, square mirror on the wall and ran a hand over the stubble on his face. “To hell with shaving. I’ll just be shifting.”

“It can’t be that simple, can it?” Myka asked.

“Not shaving? Easy for me.”

“I know you know what I mean. It can’t be as simple as you winning a bunch of fights, and Gavan taking over.”

“Nope.”

Myka fell silent again. She knew good and well that Spike wouldn’t simply give in to Gavan and do whatever he wanted. She also knew he was angry at Liam and wasn’t about to crawl over there giving him Gavan on a platter. Spike was up to something underhanded.

“Let me help,” she said.

“Shifter shit is dangerous, Myka.”

“I know. But aren’t I going to be your mate? Or whatever that means? I think you’d better explain that part to me.”

Spike came to her, his eyes taking on the golden hue, his big hands closing around her arms. “It means the mate of my heart. You to me, me to you, one. Under the light of the Mother Goddess, the moon, and the Father God, the sun, you’ll join with me. We’ll share our lives, and no longer be separate, apart.” His fingers bit down. “The mate-claim means all other males have to back off. No one will hurt you or even touch you without going through me. I keep you safe, and if you accept my mate-claim, then we bind. For always.”

His face was set, eyes on her. To be with this man—this strange, crazy, wild but tender man . . . Myka wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or drown in hope.

Spike touched his forehead to hers, his hands shaking on her shoulders. “I don’t want you to promise now,” he said. “Let me finish with Gavan first. Then I’ll convince you to be mine.”

Myka let her arms drift around him, clasping his warm back. “How are you planning to do that? Convince me, I mean?”

Spike lowered his head and nipped her lips. “I can think of a lot of ways. But you’re so strong. I’ve never met a woman as strong as you.”

“Shifter women have to be stronger than human ones.”

He touched her chest, flattening his hand between her br**sts. “You have strength of heart. You have the strength of a survivor.” He kissed her lips again, his mouth hot. “I want more than survival, and so do you. I say we come together—and live.”

Myka’s heart beat faster. “Yes.”

Spike touched the corners of her lips, opening her to him, slanting his mouth over hers. His tongue swept inside, heat and goodness, strength and caring. This man had so much caring in him, and it came to her through his touch.

Myka leaned into him. Spike let the kiss turn hard, his hands moving down to her br**sts, teasing the ni**les through her shirt.

“Myka,” he said, savoring her name. “Let me do what I need to do. And then . . .” He kissed her throat, licked her neck. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Fine by me.” Myka kissed his chin, loving the rough feel of the unshaved whiskers. “But you still haven’t told me what you plan to do.” She tightened her arms around him. “I’m not letting you out of this room until you do.”

Spike slanted her a wicked grin. “I was right. You are a little shit.” Then he kissed her again, lowered his voice, and told her.

Myka started smiling long before he finished. “No way am I staying behind and missing this. I want to help. Tell me what I can do.”

*** *** ***

The night was fully dark by the time Myka and Spike pulled up to the gigantic abandoned hay barn that housed the Shifter fight club. Spike climbed out of the truck to look around before he’d let Myka out, inhaling the air unclogged by city smells.

The rain that had graced them last night was long gone, the sky clear and thick with stars. Out here, away from the towns, the remoter constellations were visible, clustering in faint smudges of white.

Tonight’s matches must have been broadcast far and wide, because the dirt around the barn was packed with vehicles—cars, pickups, motorcycles. Shifters and humans mingled in the makeshift parking lot, either walking purposefully or strolling leisurely toward the barn. Those who saw Spike lifted hands, called out greetings, or told him he’d better kick some ass because they had a lot riding on him.

They didn’t know the half of it.

Spike had called in favors tonight. He’d asked Ronan and Nate to watch over the house and Jordan—Ronan because the bear was huge, formidable, and trustworthy, and Nate because he knew Gavan and could anticipate the kinds of things he’d pull. The Morrissey family was not to so much as set foot on the porch until everything was settled. Ronan and Nate, though they both worked for Liam too, understood.

A good chunk of the Morrissey family was here tonight anyway. Sean had come with Ellison to watch, Connor tagging along with them. Dylan was a regular fighter, already gearing up for his first match in the far ring, and his mate Glory had come to watch him.

Spike didn’t see Gavan yet, but there was no doubt he’d be there. He wasn’t one to put plans in motion from afar. He liked to sniff around, which meant he often got in his own way. So much the better.

Myka was excited, all smiles, easily laughing. The Shifters would think she was keyed up and turned on to watch her mate-to-be fight, and didn’t Spike want that to be true? Myka ready to celebrate with him when he won, fuss over him if he lost? She’d put her arms around him and comfort him after a lost bout, telling him she’d like him even if he couldn’t lift a bear over his head and throw him across the ring.