Honored Vow

was that I was a self-righteous prick.
    “Do you remember the hospital, Mr. Rayne?”
    “Good Samaritan,” I told her.
    “Let me see if I can get those records to confirm, but if you’re
    certain….” She trailed off, leaving the question for me to confirm.
    “I’m very certain.” I sighed, and it was a long drawn-out one,
    because from the look on her face, I was guessing that the man lying there
    in front of me still had his appendix. “I was there.”
    “Mr. Rayne—”
    “Does this man have an appendix?”
    Her eyes met mine. “Yes, he does.”
    “Yes, he does,” I echoed her before I turned around, lifting up to
    wrap my arms around Logan’s neck, pull him down to me.
    My mate buried one hand in my hair; the other was pressed to the
    middle of my back as he held me tight.
    “I’m so sorry for putting you through—”
    “No,” Logan cut her off as his arms tightened around me. “You were
    doing your job.”
    “I’m just so sorry.”
    So was I, since my brain was starting to wrap around a new truth.
    Leaning my head back, I looked up into his face.
    “I know, love,” he said, nodding. “We’ll find him.”
    Slowly, insidiously, I started hyperventilating.
    “I swear, Jin. We’ll find him. Please breathe.”
    And I had to believe him, since he’d never let me down before.

    I HAD known Logan Church for a year and a half, but in that time my
    entire life had gone through a drastic metamorphosis. I had changed from
    being a loner, traveling from place to place, town to town, with my best

    Honored Vow

    5

    friend, Crane Adams, to finding my mate and having a home. I was the
    reah of my tribe of werepanthers, the mate of the leader, the semel, and
    my voice was second only to his. I went from having nothing to having it
    all.
    Normally reahs were women. Since I wasn’t, when my father and
    my old tribe discovered what I was, I had been beaten and exiled from the
    home and family I had grown up in. The only person who remained loyal,
    who loved me and stayed with me, was my best friend, Crane Adams. And
    first he’d been dead, and now he was missing. I was barely holding it
    together.
    When the door opened, I rose from where I had been sitting on the
    couch in the luxury suite at the Venetian in Las Vegas, flipping channels
    on the TV. Domin came in first, holding open the door for those that
    followed him, a stream of people, some I didn’t know, before finally
    Logan was there. I would have crossed the floor to my mate, but Yuri
    Kosa, the sheseru, enforcer of my tribe and my guardian, put a hand on my
    shoulder, holding me where I was.
    “They all come to you here, even your semel.”
    And I knew that. The hotel room was like a home away from home,
    and as such, Yuri was there with me, as was Artem Varda, his second.
    Because we were in the territory of a semel who shared a bond with
    Logan, Yuri did not bring any more men with him to guard me. But still,
    when strangers were entering the room, Yuri kept himself at my side, and
    everyone moved forward to me. I wasn’t allowed to defer to anyone, being
    seen instead as the power player. It was stupid werepanther posturing, but
    there were rules that had to be observed, so I minded my sheseru without
    question.
    When Logan was close enough, I reached for him, and he took my
    hand in his. He did not look pleased.
    “What happened?” I asked quietly.
    Quick shake of his head before he turned to look at Domin. I saw the
    maahes of my tribe holding court, facing the men who had followed him
    into the room.
    “I present my reah,” Domin said, acknowledging me with his hand.
    I watched as they all knelt in front of him. I recognized Calvin
    Reynolds, the semel of the tribe of Opet, the tribe that called Las Vegas

    6

    Mary Calmes

    home; his sheseru, Roger Tsang; and his sylvan, Amanda Dove; but no
    one else. I assumed the other ten or so men were his khatyu, fighters. As
    my eyes traveled over those on one knee in front of Domin, I found my
    gaze drawn to Amanda. She had a good face and gave me a trembling
    smile when she noticed my regard.
    I had been surprised that in the two tribes I had regular contact
    with—my own, and the tribe of Pakhet, that of Christophe Danvers, who
    lived in Reno—there were not more women in one of the two roles that
    served as counsels for the leader. In my travels across the country with
    Crane, I had seen many tribes that had a woman as either the sheseru, tribe
    enforcer, or sylvan, tribe