Page 30 of Catching Flynn

Not him. His tiger.

That was the problem.

Zavier exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes fixed on the dark road ahead while another heavy drop tapped against the windshield.

He’d taken the gun too sharply from Flynn. His mate had tried to sass his way out of it, tried bargaining to get it back, all teasing defiance and stunning smiles, and Zavier—

Christ.

The memory hit harder now in the quiet cab. That look between them. Flynn staring up at him mid-banter after Zavier warned him about the offer.

Because of that offer.

The exact moment Flynn lost every smart remark in his head because Zavier had looked at him too intensely for too long, unaware a tiger was gazing back at him.

The offer had been said innocent enough, but Flynn had called to his beast in the most primitive way, causing Zavier to struggle to keep his animal leashed.

For the first time ever, his tiger had come dangerously close to the surface, closer than ever before, and if the owner hadn’t interrupted, Flynn would’ve seen the tiger through Zavier’s eyes.

His tiger had been right there, pressing forward hard enough that Zavier could practically feel it in his teeth. Wanting closer. Wanting Flynn. Wanting to close the distance until there wasn’t any space left between them.

Mate.

The word echoed darkly through him. His fingers flexed on the wheel.

Zavier was trained for control. Built around it. Years of discipline hammered into instinct. He protected people for a living, and now his own beast was testing boundaries around the one person Zavier should’ve been handling most carefully.

Especially now.

Before the claim.

Before Flynn fully understood what Zavier even was to him.

The tiger didn’t care about timing. Or caution. It had seen Flynn glowing with that chaotic unfiltered joy spilling out of him, and something possessive had rooted deep immediately afterward.

Zavier glanced sideways briefly.

Flynn shifted in his sleep, brows pulling together faintly before relaxing again. His fingers curled loosely into the flannel beneath his cheek.

So trusting.

That sharp irritation in Zavier’s chest returned, though none of it was directed at Flynn.

At himself.

At the fact his tiger reacted to Flynn’s vulnerability with hunger wrapped in protectiveness so intense it bordered primal.

It wasn’t lust. Beyond that certainty, Zavier couldn’t understand what his beast’s intentions were. Not with that much aggression.

Outside, lightning flashed again behind the clouds, illuminating endless pine trees in pale ghostly outlines before darkness swallowed them whole once more.

Inside the truck, everything stayed quiet.

Just dashboard glow. The low hum of tires. Flynn asleep beside him. Zavier driving through a storm that hadn’t broken yet while another one paced restlessly beneath his skin, equally unwilling to let go.

* * * *

Flynn snorted softly at his phone screen. “Sir, if your relationship requires security intervention and three backup cousins, that’s not love. That’s a hostage negotiation.”