Wild Invitation

closer. “I didn’t want to say anything to Miss Kildaire, ’cause she’s nice, and I like her.”
    “I like her, too.” A truer statement had never been said. There was something about the little teacher with her jet-black hair and dark brown eyes that had the cat purring in interest. He wondered if she realized she had one hell of a sexy mouth, then wondered if she’d let him do all sorts of wicked things to that mouth.
Later,
he promised himself. Right now, Bryan needed him. “What does this have to do with Ms. Kildaire?”
    “Morgan said that his mother said that Miss Kildaire is sitting on a shelf.”
    Zach had to think about that one for a few seconds. “He said she’s on the shelf?”
    “Uh-huh.” An emphatic nod. “I don’t know why Miss Kildaire would sit on a shelf, but that’s what Morgan said.”
    “I’m guessing there’s more.”
    “And
then
Morgan said that his mother said that Miss Kildaire was too fat to get a man.”
    What a load of horseshit, Zach thought. Morgan’s mother was probably some shriveled-up jealous twit. “I see.”
    “And then Morgan said she was a cripple.”
    Zach had a sudden urge to punch out the little rat himself. “Go on.”
    “I told him to take it back. Miss Kildaire is the nicest teacher at the school, and she’s not a cripple just ’cause she has a sore leg sometimes and has to use a cane.” Temper flared in Bryan’s eyes, the irises shifting to the jagged green of the leopard.
    “Hold the cat, Bryan,” Zach said, forcing a choke hold on his own anger. Cubs had to be taught control. Once, a long time ago, the animal fury of changelings had run unchecked, and it had led to the carnage of the Territorial Wars.
    The other races might’ve forgotten those tormented years, but changelings never would. And they’d never allow it to happen again. “Hold it.” He put his hand on Bryan’s arm and allowed a low growl to rise from his throat. It was a gesture ofdominance, and it worked to bring Bryan’s leopard back under control.
    “Sorry.”
    Zach felt his own cat pacing inside him before it became distracted by the exquisite scent of the luscious Ms. Kildaire. “It’s okay. We all had to learn.”
    “Yeah.” Bryan blew out a breath. “Anyway, Morgan kept saying she was a cripple, and I got mad and hit him.”
    Zach found himself in a quandary. He really couldn’t disagree with his nephew’s actions, but punching out another kid was against the rules. He looked into Bryan’s intelligent face and made the only decision he could. “JB, you know we don’t condone this kind of violence.”
    Bryan nodded.
    “But I understand the provocation.” Lying wasn’t how the pack worked. And Bryan was old enough to know that understanding didn’t mean approval.
    His nephew’s face melted into a smile. “I knew you would.” He threw his arms around Zach’s neck.
    Zach hugged that small, sturdy body and waited until Bryan drew back before asking, “Why didn’t you call your dad? He would’ve understood, too.” Joe ran a bar that was a favorite gathering place for the pack, but he was also a fellow soldier.
    “He’s watching Liam’s soccer game today. I didn’t want to mess that up—Liam’s been practicing his kicks for like a month.”
    Zach ruffled his nephew’s hair. “You’re a good kid, JB.” Standing, he nodded at the cubbyholes that lined the back of the classroom. “Grab your stuff while I go sort this out with Ms. Kildaire.”
    Bryan grabbed his hand. “You won’t—”
    “I won’t say anything. Promise.”
    Relaxing, Bryan went to a cubby to their right and began to gather his things.
    Zach watched Annie rise from her chair as he walked over and had to fight the urge to growl that she sit back down. He’d noticed her shakiness earlier—her left leg was bothering her. But if he said what he wanted to, he’d be as bad as that runt, Morgan. Annie Kildaire had to be perfectly capable if she was running a classroom of seven-year-olds.
    “Did he tell you?” she asked in that husky voice that brushed like black velvet over his skin. The cat stretched out, asking for more. Being stroked by Ms. Kildaire, he thought, both sides of him in agreement, might just be the best Christmas present ever.
    “Yes, he gave up the goods.”
    She waited. “And?”
    “And I can’t tell you.” He watched her brow furrow, her lips purse. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to bite down on that full lower lip or lick the upper