He opened her with his hand, finding her hot and wet with wanting, then he slid inside her, inch by slow inch. It killed him to go slowly, but Carly was still getting used to him, and the last thing in the world Tiger wanted to do was hurt her.

Carly made a soft sound of pleasure, her eyes half closing. She was tight, gripping, and Tiger’s thoughts became incoherent. All he knew was Carly, her heat, her body pliant in his arms, the threads of the mate bond that stretched from his heart to hers.

Those threads could never be severed. No matter how far Tiger went from her, the bonds would be there, invisible, magic, unbreakable.

Carly cried out, and Tiger slid the rest of the way into her. She rocked back, and Tiger lifted her hips, steadying her on his hardness. She was slick, taking him yet squeezing him, and Tiger lost himself in nothing but sensation.

His hips moved, starting the back-and-forth rhythm that felt so incredible. Carly held on to his wrists, her green gaze locked to him, her body rocking with his. She cried his name, the sound of it echoing in the large room, wrapping around him like the magic of the mate bond.

Here was where he needed to be, inside this woman, where all was beauty and wildness. And home.

Tiger thrust into her, filling her all the way, Carly’s eyes widening. She pulled him to her with her feet in their high-heeled shoes on his bu**ocks, this sex raw and fierce. Tiger loved it—he loved her.

Need you. Love you. Tiger began the rhythm again, faster, faster, the slapping sound as they came together exciting. Carly dug her fingers into his wrists, her spike heels pressing his backside.

Tiger shouted her name, white-hot fire pouring through him. The rightness of being with his mate, and feeling like this, made him know that this was the most precious moment he might ever have for the rest of his life.

Under him Carly pulsed and rocked, her pleasure consuming her. She laughed wildly as she found her release, coming up to wrap her arms around him and hold on to him.

Together, entwined, mated. Tiger gathered him to her, both of them breathless, and kissed her in the sweetness of afterglow.

* * *

Walker stood in front of the desk of his commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Mark Sheldon, and was glad Sheldon wasn’t a Shifter. Walker was good at keeping his body language neutral, but Shifters could read even the minutest twitch of a finger.

“And now I hear the Shifter is missing,” Sheldon was saying. “What the hell happened?”

Sheldon’s voice was quiet and cold. The command of the Special Forces attachment to the Shifter Bureau was pretty much a shit assignment. Sheldon, though, was ruthless enough to turn it into something he could use for promotion, for a bigger command. Sheldon had ambition.

Walker’s assignment as XO in the unit probably meant he’d been sidelined, but he didn’t care. He’d seen too much in his life, done too much, and had too much anger in him. Sitting on the sidelines for a while was what he needed. And now he had to sit back and watch his commanding officer show his true dickhead colors.

“I want that Shifter found, locked into the facility, and tested every which way,” Sheldon said. “If he resists, and you have to drag in his corpse, do it. The researchers will harvest what they need from him. But I want the Shifter.”

Walker listened without changing expression. When Sheldon moved back to his desk, done with his diatribe, Walker cleared his throat.

“Respectfully, sir.”

Sheldon looked up abruptly, his eyes so cold they burned. “Captain? I’d be interested to hear your opinion.”

The words were a hard sneer. Walker held on to his purpose, though the LTC’s eyes could make even senior officers decide they needed to walk another direction instead of have to pass him.

“With respect, sir, the mission is to find out all we can about why this Shifter was singled out, what research was carried out on him, and if that research or the Shifter himself can be used to help our troops in the field. Not to kill him.”

“Is it?” Sheldon asked. He gave Walker a full minute of his obey-me-or-die stare. “Let me explain something, Danielson. That Shifter could hold secrets that could save our troops, our army, and our missions overseas. You know that—you’ve read the research. Our mission, yours and mine, is to get that Shifter back and extract everything we can from him. Your mission is to bring him to me. By any means possible. Dead or alive.”

Walker hid a twitch of nervousness. The trouble with Sheldon is that he was usually right, but the way he was right spoke of a mercilessness that made Walker’s blood cold. “Sir.”

“Get out, Danielson.”

“Sir.” Walker gave Sheldon a perfect salute and went.

That Shifter could hold secrets that could save our troops, our army, and our missions overseas. Sheldon’s words, but his eyes had told a different story. Sheldon was playing his own game.

What Walker needed to do now was figure out how to keep the tiger Shifter safe and discover what the true purpose of his creation was. All this without screwing up Walker’s own life.

He walked to the mess hall in the tiny camp on the south side of Austin where the small unit trained constantly, though it rarely was called out to do anything with Shifters. The Shifters in Austin, where the Shifter Bureau South was located, never gave anyone any trouble. The only incidents had been a Shifter accused of murdering a human woman a few years ago—proved innocent—and now Tiger’s violence in the hospital.

Which had stopped the moment Carly Randal had walked into the room and said his name. There was something in that, and not just because Carly was cute.

Of course, Rebecca stripping down to change into a bear had pretty much floored Walker. Women could make a man feel like he’d been punched in the gut.

Because the camp was small, there was no separate dining facility for the few officers; everyone ate together in one mess hall. Sheldon either went out to lunch or ate in the small private room off the main cafeteria. Walker usually ate in the main mess when he had a meal in camp, mostly because he couldn’t imagine conducting casual lunchtime conversation with LTC Sheldon. Plus he knew his men didn’t mind seeing an officer eating lunch like a human being once in a while.

Walker scanned the score of men who were either already eating or standing in line with their trays, until he found the sergeant he was looking for.

Crosby was a sergeant who was very good at obeying orders to the letter, which was how he’d made it all the way to E-5. God help the army if he ever made it to staff sergeant or higher. Crosby had a square head, made more square by his buzzed hair, and a rectangular shaped body replete with muscle. He was the best at all the fitness tests and the first one out for PT every morning.