by P. Jameson
Yes. She would want this with him every day. Need it. God, she finally understood why he called it needy.
“Look at me,” he demanded, and she obeyed. “I want to see your eyes. Those beautiful eyes…”
He increased his speed, every push deliberate and bearing so much passion she thought she’d explode inside with the next one. Her hand slid up his colorful chest, following his tattoos like a map until she reached his jaw where she curved her palm. Another connection.
Eyes, bodies, hearts.
“King,” she murmured, her hips rising up to meet his thrusts. Of her heart. He would be king of her heart, she could feel the change happening in her chest. The burning need she had felt there since being rescued from Bastian’s mansion was becoming something new.
“Come, female. Come on me.”
Who could have known that would work, that his command would allow her to explode all around him. But it did. She did. With a cry that sounded like freedom, Nyla came apart, fluttering to a million pieces that would land in a heap at his feet.
Forever his.
Reborn.
***
Mark. Claim.
Not yet.
Skittles grit his jaw absorbing the sensations of his mate coming on him. Not yet. He wanted her completely satisfied when he clawed her. He wanted her wild for him as he was for her.
“Skittles…” She groaned his name through clenched teeth as a new orgasm overtook her and she bucked her hips wildly for relief.
“Yessss. My female.” Fuck, he couldn’t hold back if this kept up. He would lose his mind.
“Mark—” She drew in a hard gasp, her pussy clenching around him so tight he saw stars. “Mark me!”
With a roar, he gave her what she wanted, shuddering his release into her body as his claw slashed a thin line down the center of her chest. She hissed, throwing her head back, and he held her tight as he continued giving her his scent. Mine, mine, mine, his mind howled. But then he realized the words weren’t coming from inside. He was growling them against her neck.
And he couldn’t stop.
Because the sensation of the bond locking into place was driving him to make sure she knew. To make sure the world knew. The entire warehouse would know, and that was exactly as it should be.
“Never letting… you… go.”
She would be his forever. I promise to choose you over and over again, she’d said. Beautiful words that he would hold in his heart all his fucking days.
Eventually, he slowed to a stop, marveling at how full he felt. How complete he felt.
He found her wide-eyed gaze and waited for whatever question would leave her mouth first. He had all the answers. Every answer. Because the only answer to any question was… together.
Except she didn’t ask anything.
“It’s there,” she breathed, pressing her palm to her chest where a thin line of blood dripped from the fresh mating mark. “The bond. Just like you said.” A smile grew until it spread her cheeks wide. “It’s there. It’s really there. You are there. I can feel you. You feel…” She swallowed hard. “Happy.”
He kissed the word from her lips. “So fucking happy,” he whispered, kissing her again before easing from her body. Rolling to the side, he pulled her to his chest, drawing a hiss from her.
“Does your mark hurt, mate?”
“A little. But…” She found his eyes, looking confused. “I love it. Is that normal, to love it so much?”
Skittles couldn’t help the pride that squeezed his chest. “Normal? I don’t know. But if I carried a mark you put on me, I would love it too.
“I love that you put it there, where our bond lives.” She brushed her fingers over the spot in the middle of his chest where there was no ink. “How come you’ve never had work done here?”
Skittles frowned. That was one question he hadn’t expected. And didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know.”
She dropped a kiss to the spot and he felt her smile against his skin. God, he loved that. Feeling her smile. They way he felt her colors. Inside. Deep, where other things got lost.
“I think I know why,” she murmured, finding his gaze again. “You were saving it for something.”
He fought his own grin. It was the way her eyes sparkled now. The way she seemed truly free. Free and his, at the very same time. “That right?”
Nyla nodded. “My mark will go here.”
“A tattoo for my girl?”
“Yes. To live in your skin with all your other beautiful colors.”
It seemed right that his darkness, the darkness that made him finally shine, be represented on his body too.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek feeling the heat of her post-mating blush.
“What should it be? Your name?”
“Yes, but the one you gave me. Soñadora.”
His dreamer. It would be perfect. “Done. I will wear it proudly, my female.”
Still grinning, she laid her head on his chest and sighed. He could feel her happiness through the bond. And most importantly, the sense of security. She wasn’t afraid anymore even if there was still worry for the future woven through.
“How did you know that would work?” she murmured, pressing her cheek closer to his chest.
“Mmm.” He ran his hand lazily over her back. “Because our broken pieces match. They just needed to come together.”
She was silent for long enough that he thought she’d fallen asleep.
“That’s it,” she exclaimed, startling him. She sat up, her expression lit with excitement. “I know what to do. I know how to keep Bastian from hurting anyone else.”
Skittles frowned, following her up so he could read her eyes. “You do?”
Nyla nodded, almost gleeful. “And we won’t even have to kill him.”
“We won’t?”
“Nope. This is better.”
“Better than killing the asshole?” What could be better than that?
“Way better. Trust me.”
And with that, she sprang from the bed. There was nothing left to do but follow her.
Because he’d follow her anywhere.
No me without you.
Not ever again.
Chapter Twenty Four
It was so easy, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before.
Broken pieces.
The answer to keeping them safe was broken pieces. The same way pieces of glass can come together to create the breathtaking colorful stained glass windows people stopped to marvel at… the opposite was also true. Those windows, those works of art—that would forever remind her of her man—could be destroyed, piece by piece until they were nothing but a pile of meaningless shards.
Bastian’s empire was the same. A grand elaborate thing, made up of smaller pieces. All she had to do… all they had to do was break it apart. Start with the legs of his operation, cripple him, and the rest would take care of itself. If there was one thing she knew to be true, it was that people were motivated by money.
If Bastian had no money… he’d be powerless.
Nyla laid her plan out for Skittles in their room, but now she was supposed to tell the others.
She looked around the lounge full of Alley Cats who were waiting for her to explain. There were more of them than she realized. More than the handful who had come to save the Dolls in the beginning. And the girls and Mama Kitty were there too.
All except Skye.
The idea that she might be locked away somewhere again made Nyla’s mouth to go dry with fury. Soon, she was going to confront Felix. Even if Marlee and Vegas and Janet thought it was okay.
Nyla cleared her throat and the vibration aggravated the tender spot on her sternum. The tinge of pain reminded her of what she and Skittles had done. Bonded. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. And just thinking about it gave her the strength she needed to start explaining.
“It’s easy,” she told them. “We take him apart piece by piece. Slice off
the legs and then watch him bleed. I’m talking about draining him dry. Bleeding him of everything he’s made of.”
There was a beat of awkward silence where they seemed to be measuring her. And then some hard stares, murmured grunts that she couldn’t interpret, nods of agreement.
“Ohhhh hell yeah,” one of the men she didn’t recognize barked. “I like this one. She speaks my language.”
Skittles’s faint growl rumbled from behind her shoulder.
“Yeah,” another unfamiliar face said. “You assholes have been talking about how to stop Bastian, and here this one agrees we should just kill the motherfucker, and be done with it.”
Kill him? Wait… they misunderstood. In fact, she definitely should’ve chosen her words more carefully.
“My kinda female, right there,” said another.
A blast of power slammed the back of her neck as Skittles’s hand came up to grip it. He wasn’t rough, but she could feel his anger through the bond. “Mine,” he bit out, and she could sense him glaring at the others from over her shoulder. “Marked and claimed. I’ll fight you next time you speak of her like that.”
Well, shit. The territorial thing was real when bonded. Noted. And to be honest… she liked him like this. Yeah, she did.
The men dipped their heads, as if accepting his terms and then his hand moved to her lower back which she took as a sign to continue.
“I… I uh, wasn’t speaking in a literal manner,” she started. “When I said ‘take him apart piece by piece’ I meant his empire. His business. All his dealings.”
“And when you said ‘slice off his legs and watch him bleed’?” the first guy asked.
Nyla swallowed before answering. “I meant take out what his empire stands on. His money.”
His shoulders sank in disappointment.
Felix walked to the center of the room, staring at her skeptically “Explain, female.”
“I can drain his accounts. All of them. Even the hidden ones. Without money, he can’t make a single move. Not against us, not against anyone.”
Felix shook his head. “It will never work.”
Nyla frowned. Was he doubting her abilities? He didn’t know her near well enough to think she couldn’t wipe that bastard out.
“He’ll just make it back. Find new junkies to peddle drugs, new Dolls to use. He’s a businessman with zero fucks to give about right or wrong. Cutting off his money won’t stop him. He’ll just make more.”
The room went silent, waiting for her argument. But… Felix wasn’t wrong. Just draining Bastian’s accounts wouldn’t stop him. They had to shatter all his pieces.
“The money is just the first move,” Nyla continued. “We start there, but then move outward. We separate him from his strongest allies.”
“The Junkyard Dogs,” Skittles added.
“And his partners in law enforcement.”
“How?” Ratchet asked, and Nyla couldn’t help the sneaky grin that curled one side of her mouth.
“Blackmail. Evidence. I know how to get all the dirt on those assholes.”
Ratchet nodded, his gaze and Felix’s meeting briefly.
“What’s next?” Felix asked.
“We destroy his headquarters and run him out of town. No money. No associates. No business. No home. Done.”
Felix ran a hand through his hair, turning to pace the small area. It seemed like forever before he stopped to face her again, huffing out a frustrated sigh.
“It won’t work.”
Nyla bristled. “What do you mean it won’t work?” This had to work. It had to or none of them would ever be safe.
“Parts of your plan are doable. We can cripple him for sure. But destroy him? No. Put him out of business for good? Hell no. It won’t work.”
Nyla glanced at Skittles. He wasn’t looking at her. Brow furrowed, finger on his chin. He was thinking. No doubt mapping things out in that brilliant mind of his, and maybe coming up with the same conclusion that Felix had.
“What… what parts aren’t doable?” she asked.
Felix was quick to answer. “He’ll never leave town.”
“How do you know?” Fang spoke up from his spot on the couch.
“Because, we wouldn’t have. Think about it. Someone stole our goods, drained our accounts, destroyed our business and home… leaving town would not be our goal. There would only be one answer to that.”
“Revenge.” This time Monster answered.
Felix nodded and so did many of the others. And in her heart, Nyla knew that was right. Payback. Until she found a reason to fight for better, payback had been her only goal. It would be Bastian’s too.
“We’re not goods.” A small voice spoke up from near the back. Near the bathroom. It belonged to Janet.
Felix frowned. “What?”
“You called us his goods. We aren’t that. We’re people. People who trusted too easily, and who made mistakes, and who were used. But we’re still people. Not goods.”
Nyla watched Felix’s face go hard for countless moments before his expression ironed into something that could be called sadness. If you were very gracious. Otherwise, you might mistake it for pity.
“To him you were.” It was all he said before turning back to address the problem. “Your plan won’t work.”
Nyla sighed, knowing he was probably right, but not ready to give up. “Okay. Okay, so it’s not as solid as I thought. It doesn’t mean we can’t take a crack at it. At stopping him. Or… or at least slowing him down.”
“She’s right,” Skittles said. Finally. “This course of action might not stop him permanently but it’s enough to cripple him. You said so yourself. We should do it, and deal with the rest as it comes.”
“Still don’t see why we can’t just fucking kill him,” one she didn’t recognize muttered. “We got fire kitties now. We got the power to do it.”
“Never call us kitties, asshole,” Ratchet snarled.
“We only kill if necessary, now,” Monster said, looking annoyed. Nyla couldn’t believe he was the same brutal man who’d guarded them in Bastian’s basement. There, he stood, with Vegas at his side, as if she was his own personal world to revolve around. “Kill to protect. You’ll see when it’s your time.”
“My time,” the other man scoffed, shaking his head. But he didn’t say anything more.
“I’m in.” Smokes stood against the stair rail, arm still bandaged from when he was shot. But he was healing fine, Janet said. “I think we should do it. We have…” He frowned, hesitating, his gaze focused on the floor. “We have more to worry about than just us. We have young coming.”
Marlee was just starting to show, but he was right.
“You mean a young,” she joked, rubbing her belly. “We aren’t having twins.”
Smokes looked at her and then past her… to Janet? “Yeah, that’s what I meant. Point is, we need to take action now. Even if it isn’t a total win. Gotta keep the clan secure.”
“Right,” Skittles agreed, looking to Felix. “We have to try.”
Felix nodded slowly, pressing his lips into a grim line while he decided. “We’ll try.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” another man asked.
Felix’s stare went dark. Deadly. “Then we’ll burn him to the ground. In a permanent fucking way. New-found morals be damned.”
Ratchet nodded. “All I need is an excuse.”
Monster seemed to agree, and so did Skittles next to her.
So it was settled. Bastian was going to get a chance that she never did. He was getting a choice.
Leave. Or die.
Chapter Twenty Five
I stalked from the lounge, taking the stairs down to the lower level two at a time. It was late and I was anxious to check on Skye.
With Skittles fully mated, I knew we were even stronger than before. It was the same as when the others bonded. A shift in energy. He was fiercer. More focused. Determined. But I couldn’t foresee Bastian’s next move, and it left me edgy.
Something strange was happening with Smokes as well. I wasn’t sure if the others noticed how distant he’d become since getting shot, but I had my suspicions that it was because of Janet.
“Felix.” Mama Kitty’s voice stopped me at the bottom of the stairs and I turned to give her a cold stare.
The human female had betrayed me just like all the others, but she also helped raise me. Or tried to anyway. She deserved a pass for the hell I put her through. Not that I could ever say that out loud.
Besides, I was coming to learn that maybe betrayal was necessary in order to be true to yourself.
“Yeah, Mama.”
“There’s a package for you in my office.”
I turned to continue down the hall. Checking on my girl felt more important. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”
“I wouldn’t wait,” she called after me. “It came by refrigerated delivery.”
The hell? “I didn’t order anything that would need to stay cold.”
Mama Kitty shrugged. “It has your name on it.”
I spun and doubled back to the office, irritated with the hold up. “Good fuck.”
“Lock it up when you’re done.”
The package wasn’t hard to spot in the pristine office. On the desk was a large box with only a shipping label. The return address wasn’t one I recognized. Flicking my pocket knife free, I cut the tape and ripped back the flaps—
“Fuck.”
The knife fell from my hand and clattered to the floor as I stared into the box, rage flooding my senses at what I saw.
Danger, the wild thing behind my sternum warned.
Inside the unassuming box, nestled carefully in some tissue paper, was the carcass of a black housecat. It lay there lifeless, twisted in a gruesome vision of death. The package itself contained no danger, but the message was clear.
Bastian wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. Until one of the Alley Cats was as dead as this one. Or all of them. And then who would take care of our females, our young. Who would look after Mama Kitty. She’d never known anything but this life, fucked up as it was.
He can’t defeat the Firecats. He won’t succeed.
Forcing breath into my lungs, I checked for a note. There was nothing. But the horrific sight had me rushing to set my eyes on Skye. To make sure she was safe. Locked in my room there wasn’t any chance she’d be harmed, but the urging inside me wouldn’t settle until I saw for myself.
