Haze of Heat by Jennifer Dellerman

identical to his own, arched at the fierce accusation. “And what? Did you think I was going to hurt her?”
    “I didn’t like it,” Porter growled out, ashamed but unable to stop the burning in his gums as his fangs threatened to emerge.
    Dark eyes, full of ruthless experience, narrowed to slits. “What you like or dislike is no excuse for your behavior. You either accept me as your alpha, challenge me for the position, or you leave.”
    Porter popped his jaw, searching for calm. “I don’t want to leave. Or challenge you.”
    A long silence that was broken by a heavy sigh from deep within his father’s chest. “One. I would never hurt that girl and you know that. Two. My history with her surpasses yours.”
    “That doesn’t make her yours.” The jealousy and possessiveness was still riding him hard. His cat was clawing to the surface, turning the edges of his brown eyes into molten greenish-yellow. Jaguar’s eyes.
    “And you think she’s yours?”
    “ Yes .” Porter jerked as the claim hissed out between clenched teeth. What the hell? He shook his head, confused. “I mean, no.”
    “Hmm.” Andreas breathed in deep, watching his son with uncanny knowledge. Whatever he smelled caused him to relax into an easy posture. “Best to figure out what you want before you go after it.”
    Sensing the danger from his father had passed, Porter should have been relieved, yet he was still wound up so tight he wanted to hit something. Hard. What he got instead was a hard smack to the back of his head.
    Whirling around, Porter glared at his eldest brother. “What the fuck was that for?”
    “For being a spoiled brat.” Santos glared right back. “I could smell the lust and aggression over the piles of shit we’ve been dumping all morning. What is your problem?’
    “None of your fucking business.” Porter didn’t feel threatened in the least by Santos, and in fact, he intentionally pushed at his brother, turning his hostility toward another target.
    Santos bristled. “It becomes my fucking business when you get in Dad’s face.”
    “Oh. So you’ve become Dad’s champion now? Ready to defend him at every turn?” Porter could hear the words coming out of his mouth, and though some part of him was wincing and yelling at him to shut the hell up, they flew from his lips like a red flag to an enraged bull. “Such a well-trained...pussy.”
    Before the last word disappeared in the soft breeze, Santos’s arm shot out and landed a rock-solid punch to Porter’s gut. Porter sucked in air and retaliated with a mighty right jab to his brother’s chin.
    Game on.
    As the two brothers fell on each other in a tangle of flying limbs, vicious growls, and disparaging slurs, Andreas looked over their rolling and flaring bodies to Daisy.
    Both man and horse shook their heads and went their separate ways, leaving the two shifters to thrash each other into the dirt.

Chapter Eight
    Later that evening, Rachel paused on the bottom step of the sweeping staircase inside the main house, one hand on the smooth flare of the rail. Chatter and laughter rose in merriment, the cause of the hitch in her stride. Recalling Melinda’s comment, that the house was free of guests for a couple of nights, meant everyone in the dining room was family. Pack. And though her stomach growled at her to get a move on—the bedside menu listed shrimp or chicken linguine in a white cream sauce as the evening’s fare—she couldn’t bring herself to take another step.
    Maybe she’d call Melinda later and see if there were any leftovers. Turning to go back to her room, one male voice became distinguishable from the others, the deep cadence a provocative lure to her sensitive hearing. Rich like dark chocolate with rough and gravelly undertones, as if he wasn’t quite tame and never would be, it beckoned in lascivious fascination. A lush wave of arousal flowed from her head to her feet, the slow intensity awaking every nerve into razor-sharp awareness.