Eric leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, blocking the view of her from everyone else in the club. “What are you doing in here?” he asked.

The woman set down her drink and poked the slush of it with her straw. “It’s a club. What do you think I’m doing here? I dance, I drink.”

“You’ve been sitting here since you came in, trying not to be seen. Who talked you into coming? Or do you enjoy walking the edge?”

She flashed him a glance, then returned her gaze to her drink. “It’s my friend’s birthday.”

“And she wanted to hang out with Shifters?”

“She’s fascinated by them.” Another glance, this one trying to be dismissive. “Can’t think why.”

“I take it your friend doesn’t know that if she wants to see a Shifter, she doesn’t have to look any further than you?”

The woman froze. Her blue eyes flickered the tiniest bit to Shifter before she caught herself and forced them back to human. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eric reached to touch her throat. “How did you avoid it? The Collar, I mean.”

She pulled back. “Get away from me, or I’ll scream for the bouncer. I’m not kidding.”

“The bouncer tonight is Brody,” Eric said. “He’s a Shifter—one of my trackers, in fact. He’ll do what I tell him.”

“Please, just go away.”

Eric caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “This is my territory, sweetheart. Every Shifter in this city is under my jurisdiction. That makes you one of mine. Mine to decide what to do with.”

The woman jerked away. “Arrogant bastard.”

“That’s what my sister calls me. And she’s right. But I’m still leader, and you’re Feline.” Eric drew in her scent. “A Feline female who’s hit her mating years.”

Her sudden, deep blush confirmed it.

Not that it wasn’t obvious. Her mating need had smacked Eric’s nose as soon as he’d clued in on her. His senses were a little more honed than those of other Shifters, but if any other Shifter male smelled her, she might not make it out the door. Females were too rare not to try for, and one alone, without pride, clan, or protection, would be fair game.

“I’m human,” she said in a hard voice.

“You’re Shifter, or at least half Shifter, passing for a human,” Eric said. “Who sired you?”

Her flush deepened. “I don’t know.”

That could be true. Before the Collar, some Shifters hadn’t been too choosy about where they dropped their seed. Probably more half breeds existed than humans knew about.

Eric leaned in. “My advice? Get the hell out of this club and don’t come back. You’re lucky I spotted you first. If any of the Shifters in here smell you—unclaimed, unmated, unprotected—I might not be able to stop them.”

Her eyes sparkled with anger through her fear. Good. The humans hadn’t cowed every bit of Shifter spirit out of her.

Eric touched the hollow of her throat, where the Celtic knot of her Collar would go. “You know what I could do, by rights? Claim you, take you home with me, snap a Collar on you, and confine you for endangering all Shifters. Make you mine in all ways.”

The fear returned. Eric traced her throat, trying to soothe her, trying to make her understand her danger. And that he would protect her from all danger.

He liked that her throat was bare, though. Knowing she was free made his heart sing.

But how long could she last before the humans figured out what she was? She’d be exposed, arrested, maybe killed. Or, if another Shifter male found her, she could be taken and claimed by him. By not being raised Shifter, she wouldn’t know how to resist, or even that, by Shifter law, she could.

She sat still, fury and fear mixed in her eyes. Her beautiful, beautiful blue eyes.

Eric leaned closer still. He inhaled her scent and exhaled his own onto her. His mark. He nuzzled her cheek, breathing softly on her skin.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, but she didn’t shrink away.

“Helping you.”

“How is sniffing me helping me?”

Eric sat up. She smelled good, and now her scent was on him, and his on hers. “I scent-marked you. If other Shifter males try to go for you, they’ll scent me and back off.” In theory. It would be more difficult to protect her when she lived outside Shiftertown, but the scent mark would make whatever male tried to mate-claim her hesitate, giving her time to escape.

“Scent-marked? What the hell does that mean?”

Eric ignored the question. “When you decide you want to come in, you find me,” he said. “I’ll make it as painless for you as possible. Understand?”

“Understand me. I don’t want to have anything to do with Shifters. Ever.”

Eric put his hand on her arm. Her skin was soft, the bones fragile but still strong. Shifter strong. “You didn’t choose this, I know. But you’re Shifter, and you’re stuck with it. You’re going to need me.”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

“Yes, you do,” Eric said.

Her two friends came giggling back. They stared in delighted awe as Eric stood up, six feet six, tattoos, Collar, and all.

“Iona,” one of her friends said. “You work fast. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“No,” Iona said.

Eric flashed a smile at the two women. “Eric Warden. Next round’s on me. Except for Iona. She’s leaving.”

The friends looked excitedly curious, Iona angry.

Eric took Iona’s hand and pulled her from her seat. Now the friends looked envious.

Iona glared at Eric, but she chose to be smart. She followed him without fighting him around the edge of the dance floor, Eric avoiding all Shifters.

Jace, at the bar, looked their way, but at Eric’s slight shake of head, Jace went back to flirting with a Lupine who laughed at him from his other side. Jace would question, and Eric faced the possibility of having to lie to his own son. If even a breath of Iona’s existence got out, she would be in grave danger.

Eric guided Iona out the back door to the cool of the parking lot. “Where’s your car?” he asked.

Iona tried to pull away, but Eric’s grip was unshakable. “My friends won’t have a ride if I leave.”