The Cougar's Mate by Holley Trent

Their one shot for perfect mates. Perfect strangers they had to convince to accept them within two weeks, or else they’d be stuck in their cougar forms until the day they died.
    Not exactly ideal, but what else would they expect of a goddess whose rare edicts were regularly demoralizing and emasculating? After seven hundred years, the lady really needed to get over her ex.
    “Chill with the pacing,” he said to Hank and Sean, only to receive a duet of scoffs in return.
    “I can’t help but to feel like this is going to go really fucking badly,” Hank said.
    “Ever the cynic.”
    “Can you really blame him?” Sean asked. At least he stopped pacing. He leaned his butt against the bumper and folded his arms over his chest. “I mean, shit , man. Why us? And what’s the worst that would have happened if we’d just ignored your dream?”
    Mason shrugged. “I don’t really want to find out. We have enough problems already without bringing down La Bella Dama ’s goddess fury onto us.” Thanks to the legends of her earthly tribulations, he could imagine what the long-absent deity’s punishments might be. The CIA had nothing on her when it came to creative torture.
    No, he didn’t really want to find out what she’d do to him, even if he hadn’t been ready for a mate. Hell, he hadn’t even been looking to get laid in over a year, and now he was supposed to sweet talk a stranger into being his forever lady? The goddess’s cruelty obviously had no limits.
    Dad’s death had left Foye Woodworks in an upended state that had taken the brothers two years to dig out from, and then it took three more years for them to have enough money tucked away in savings for just in case . Financial chaos would never rule their world again if Mason could help it. It wasn’t just his job as big brother, but as Alpha, too. Cougars may have been independent for the most part, but they worked together when needed. Mason tried not to put too much stress on the glaring, and like his father, was slow in asking people to pitch in. Cats weren’t good at trusting.
    Mom was the reason Mason and his brothers had gotten involved in the glaring at all during their teen years. They were Cougars, whether they wanted to be or not, and she couldn’t teach them how to be that. Like the women in the truck, she was just human. They needed to be around others like them, and not just their father. They needed to learn how to compensate for their untrusting natures and isolationist tendencies, but by the time they’d started to, Pops had to go and have a fucking heart attack and die.
    Mason had stepped up as Alpha because of a sense of obligation. He was qualified, sure, but that meant nothing to him without the goddess’s blessing. The goddess hadn’t given any alpha in a hundred years her blessing, so trying to keep up with all the glaring requests seemed pointless on some days. He didn’t know if he was getting anything right.
    “Look. There she is.” Mason nodded toward the main house. Mom padded down the front steps pulling her terrycloth bathrobe together and tying it at the waist.
    Situated dead center in the middle of the Double B ranch, Mom’s place was in viewing distance of eachson’s own house, but far enough away that she couldn’t meddle. The Foye boys knew fuck-all about ranching. Had never needed to. Mom kept the cattle business running with the help of a few Cougar ranch hands, and the brothers kept the bills paid by woodworking. They unanimously agreed that staying out of Mom’s hair was a good thing. When they got pulled into her orbit, she nagged. Boy, did she nag. The worst part was that she was entirely entitled to—a know-it-all of the worst sort.
    Mom hurried out to the driveway. Her gray-streaked red hair trailed on the wind behind her and she grinned, her anticipation clear on her face.
    “I wonder what she’s going to think of her future daughters-in-law,” Hank said drily. He stopped pacing long enough to lace his