Orion (Pride Daddies #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Orion

“Who is that?” I ask under my breath as I move toward the window of the logging office trailer.

Brea glances up from where she’s managing payroll at her desk. “Oh, that’s Vincent Jones. He’s meeting with Navin about a land purchase somewhere nearby.”

I glance at the man she’s referring to. Something about him rubs me wrong. Gritting my teeth, I shift my attention back to the woman standing behind him. “Not him. Who’s the woman?”

“Oh, that’s Cora. I think she’s his daughter.”

I exhale long and slow. Thank fuck she’s not his wife.

A deep longing consumes me. I can’t explain it. It’s not an experience I’m familiar with, but I have a suspicion that the dark-haired, timid woman I’m staring at is my mate. Or she will be as soon as I claim her.

It’s weird. I haven’t even seen her face. It’s not possible because her long thick hair is curtaining her features. She’s standing slightly behind Jones, head tipped down. Her stance has the hairs on the back of my neck on end, and I don’t like the way she’s holding her right arm.

Her clothes are odd, too, as if they aren’t hers. They don’t fit right. She has on jeans, but they’re loose. Her blouse is untucked and wrinkled. The navy cardigan she’s wearing is frayed at the hem. It, too, is far too large for her slight frame.

My lion comes precariously close to the surface, and a low growl escapes my lips.

“Are you okay?” Brea asks, her voice shaking.

“No. Definitely not.” My hands are fisted. I need to get my shit together before I go outside. I don’t like the vibe I’m feeling at all.

“Uhh…” Brea says, joining me at the window. “Maybe I could ask if she wants to come into the trailer to wait for her father.”

I glance at Brea. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Navin. I’m so fucking glad he claimed her and made her part of our pride. She’s a sweetheart, and he’s a lucky man.

I think it’s my turn to claim a mate. I wondered how I would know. Turns out I just do. It’s plain as day.

Brea has picked up on my interest. She’s insightful. Bless her for offering to lure my woman into the office. She smiles up at me. “Come on. Let’s go join them. If you’re too tongue-tied, I’ll figure out something to say.”

I smirk. “Nosey little thing.”

She giggles. “Just trying to help.”

“Navin is going to kill me for letting you leave the office.”

She shrugs, the smile never leaving her face. “Oh, no. What if he punishes me?” Her tone couldn’t be more sarcastic if she tried. The Little imp probably does everything in her power to challenge Navin in order to earn his discipline.

I follow Brea out the door and down the few steps to the gravel drive.

As we head toward Navin and our guests, my pride brother glances up.

His brow furrows. I know why. He hates it when Brea leaves the trailer.

And I can’t blame him. This is a logging site.

It’s not safe for her to be roaming around out here, but he’s going to have to get over himself this time.

When Navin shifts his gaze from Brea to me, I do my best to communicate with him. He’s the leader of our pride, a brother, a friend. We can usually express volumes of information from just a look, which comes in handy on occasion. Like now.

I stare at him hard, my expression firm, my gaze darting toward the woman and back to him.

Cora. She’s definitely fucking mine. That is more obvious to me by the second.

Every inhale draws her deeper into my soul.

I hate that her sweet scent is tainted by a combination of other smells that make me cringe.

Smoke is one of them. I find it very unlikely that she’s a smoker, which means her father is, and it gets on her clothes and in her hair.

She also smells of cheap soap and laundry detergent. I want to get her out of these ill-fitting clothes and wash her past off her skin and hair.

The vibe I’m getting from Vincent Jones is not good. He’s an asshole. I’m sure Navin has figured that out.

Navin acknowledges my silent communication with a slight brow lift and an imperceptible nod.

Cora never looks up. She has to know someone is approaching unless she’s deaf. A normal human being would glance over their shoulder as they sense someone new, but not her. Brea would have told me if Cora is hard of hearing.

“Ah, Orion,” Navin says as he motions for me to join them. “This is Vincent Jones. He’s interested in selling a piece of land near here. We’re discussing the possible purchase.”

It takes everything in me not to scowl. I’m closer than I’ve ever been to shifting on the spot and roaring loud enough to shake the mountain.

We’re lion shifters. It’s no secret. We do our best to blend in with regular human society, and that means not flipping out and losing our shit in front of the inferior beings.

The truth is, we need humans, or at least their women. The pride I live and work with up in these mountains is composed of twelve of us. We broke off from a larger pride several years ago to search for a new home closer to a human population.

Now that we’re operating a successful logging company, it’s time to start finding human mates.

We’ve been wondering how the universe would line up for us.

Pryce and I discovered Navin’s mate, Brea, in the woods, dying from a knife wound.

She was unconscious when Navin saved her life by biting her and making her his.

How will the rest of us find our mates? Well apparently, Fate dropped mine right in front of me this morning. Any doubt I may have had has vanished.

Now I just need to control my lion while I make pleasantries with this foul excuse for a human male. I paste on a smile and extend a hand toward the fucker. “Orion.”

He scowls as he reluctantly offers me his own hand. “Vincent.”

My gaze may be on this asshole, but all of my attention is on Cora behind him. What the absolute fuck is going on here? I don’t like it. What I know for certain is that she’s not leaving here with this dickwad. My canines will be sinking into her pretty neck the first chance I get.

She’s mine.

I take a small step to the left, putting me closer to my mate. I hate that she’s hiding behind this motherfucker. His aura is disgusting. There’s no way Navin isn’t aware of that fact, though it might be more obvious to me than him since I’m more in tune with Cora than he is.

She’s trembling, and something is definitely wrong with her right arm. She’s holding her wrist with her left hand. When she moves, she winces.

Unless her arm is badly dislocated and needs resetting, I can fix whatever ails her quickly. As soon as my essence is running through her veins, she will have fast-healing properties. A hairline fracture or a sprain will be fixed from my bite.

Granted, if her arm is badly broken, I’ll need to take her to a doctor and have it set.

Luckily, one of the first people we got cozy with when we moved to this mountain was the town doctor.

He’s aware of our kind and has more knowledge than the average human about treating our ailments on the rare occasion we can’t manage ourselves.

Suddenly, Cora leans in closer to Jones and whispers, “I need to use the restroom.”

Excellent. This is the sort of diversion I need.

Jones turns toward her and barks, “Told you to go before we left the house. You can hold it.”

My hackles raise. What a piece of fucking work this shit for brains is. I want to reach out and strangle him.

Brea threads her arm through Navin’s. “I can take her. There’s a bathroom in the trailer,” she chirps merrily as if the air isn’t filled with awkward tension.

Even though Navin and I are the only shifters standing in this circle, I’m confident that it doesn’t take a lion’s heightened senses to recognize that shit isn’t right in Cora’s world.

Brea can sense it, too. And I suspect Cora doesn’t even need a bathroom.

She might be sharp enough to be using the idea as a ruse to get away from her fucking father.

“She’s fine,” Jones growls.

Brea is pushy, though. “It’s no trouble at all. I know Orion needs to get back to the logging site, but you and Navin can continue your boring negotiations while I take Cora to the bathroom.”

Bless her. She even rolls her eyes as she speaks of the business end of things as if she’s some ignorant girl who knows nothing about our company. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

Brea has been with us for three months. She hates being idle. She also hates being parted from Navin. So, she started working in our small office, helping with paperwork and damn near everything the rest of us loathe doing. She’s a godsend, and she’s fucking sharp.

But Vincent Jones doesn’t know this. It’s easier for him to believe the ruse that Brea is some dumb girl whose only useful attribute at the moment is guiding Cora to a toilet.

Navin clears his throat. “It’s really no problem, Vincent.

Brea needs something to do anyway. I don’t like her sitting around idle.

Women tend to get unnecessary ideas in their heads if we don’t keep them occupied, don’t they?

” He chuckles as if he’s sharing a hilarious inside joke.

If he were serious, his words would be both degrading and insulting to his mate.

Yes, she’s his submissive in every way. He takes care of all her needs. But he’s not an asshole about what’s inside her mind. She’s bright and eager and a contributing member of our pride.

She also knows her mate well.

Brea lets out a fake groan and graces us all with a dramatic eye roll. She swats at Navin’s arm.

Navin glances down at her with a lifted brow. “What you should do is take Cora to the house. The two of you can occupy yourselves by fixing us sandwiches for lunch. Do you think you can manage that without getting distracted?”

She sighs. “Yes, sir.” There is absolutely no capital S the way she utters the word sir under these circumstances. She’s putting on a show. All of this drama is meant to separate Cora from Vincent.

The most hilarious part of all is that I’m certain Brea hasn’t lifted a finger to prepare food or clean since Navin claimed his Little mate.

She may be his submissive and Little, but she isn’t a domestic servant.

We lion shifters take care of our mates in every single way, including feeding them, often literally.

Jones hesitates. He’s stuck. Navin has played into his demeaning hand. He’d look like a dick if he didn’t agree to this plan. Finally, he gives a curt nod before he grabs Cora by the bicep. His grip is way too tight, and she winces again as she tips her head back slightly.

She doesn’t look him in the eye, but at least I can glimpse some of her features. She has tanned skin, a small nose that tips up slightly, full pink lips, and a rounded chin.

What little I’m able to see takes my breath away. I wish she would look at me so I could see her eyes. Soon.

“Fine,” Jones growls. “Make yourself useful while I’m meeting with Navin. You may fix me a sandwich. Do not eat these people’s food, though, you hear me?”

She swallows. “Yes, sir.” There’s definitely no fucking capital S on that sir either, although that wouldn’t be appropriate anyway if this man is her father.

I know Brea suggested that was the case, but I’m having my doubts.

They look nothing alike. Jones has auburn hair and pale freckled skin.

It’s possible she has her mother’s coloring and features, but I’m suspecting there is more to this story.

Vincent gives her arm another tight squeeze and leans in to speak in a low voice near her ear. “You better not fuck around. Bathroom. Lunch. That’s it. No chit-chat. You hear me, girl?”

She nods.

What Jones doesn’t know is that Navin and I have sharper hearing than humans. We heard every syllable of his threats. And he can fucking trip over a giant boulder, hit his head, and die for all I care.

This is the last time he’ll be touching my mate.