by Eliza Gayle
“The few sparse clues I can piece together led me to your clan. A few random phone calls, a couple of tattered receipts. It’s all very circumstantial but my gut tells me I’m headed in the right direction. And then out of the blue Kane calls me. That was about the last damn thing I expected. You told your brother about me?”
“I might have mentioned it one night over a few too many beers.” He shrugged. “No big deal. I doubt I shared much.”
“You don’t even remember?” A fresh wave of anger crashed into her. The callous bastard.
“Look, Chey. I made a huge mistake. I get that now. But you don’t understand what not being able to shift does to a man. It’s like being eaten alive from the inside out. The cat wanted free and I couldn’t let him. No matter what I tried. You have any idea what that does to your sanity?”
“Excuses, Malcolm. That’s all I’m hearing. But dammit that’s beside the point. Let me finish.”
He waved his hand and leaned back.
“I think whatever is going on this goes beyond one murder. Well, two now if you consider the shifter today. Don’t you find it odd that the only enforcers the clan has are systematically being removed from the clan? First you. Then Lucas and now Kane’s job is threatened.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah. I know all about Kane’s mate.” Her stomach turned at the memory of the pictures that had been delivered to her house. That’s when she’d finally faced the truth. She was not over Malcolm and likely never would be. John had sensed the truth, and mere days later, she’d found him stabbed in the chest. He’d managed to tell her that he’d only been trying to protect her before he gave in. She’d later learned that the knife had nicked an artery near his heart. There’d been no time to save him before he bled out.
“At least I didn’t try to mate with her.”
Chey recoiled at the insult. Pain sliced through her chest and guilt threatened to overwhelm her. She clenched her jaw to hold back any further insults. This conversation would go exactly nowhere if neither of them kept their cool. “Getting back to my point. There seems to be a shit storm surrounding you and your brothers and it seems like everyone connected to you is getting swept up in it.”
“Could be coincidence. We aren’t all that close anymore.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. Do you?”
“Not really.”
“Can you remember when exactly things in your family began to fall apart?”
Malcolm scrubbed his hands over his face and pushed out a rough breath. “I don’t know. It’s been so long.”
“Okay, let’s do this.” Cheyenne jumped up and began rifling through drawers until she came across a pad of paper and pencil. She returned to the bed and sat next to him. “I’ll ask questions and you answer the best you can. I have a hunch we’re onto something.”
“Maybe.”
“Let’s create a timeline. When you met me, were you and your brothers still close?”
“Sort of. We were all still working as enforcers but the tension between us had grown tight by then. After our mother left, things were hard but then when Dad died, no one seemed to care that much anymore. I spent nearly all of my time out by the border leaving Lucas and Kane to deal with council politics. I never did have much stomach for that kind of thing.”
She nodded and wrote all of his information down. “But you were all still together. What happened after you left me?”
Darkness clouded his eyes. A bright pang of regret bloomed inside her. They were never going to get past their mistakes if they didn’t stop revisiting them. She laid down her pencil and angled her body closer. “I’m only asking for the purpose of getting to the bottom of this. I really don’t want to keep hashing out the past. What’s done is done and can’t be changed.” Not when she had the here and now to obsess over. He’d tricked her again and she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. But finding John’s killer was more important than revenge on Malcolm at the moment.
“I was an idiot. I can admit it. But dammit, Chey what I did was for the best for both of us. Neither one of us knew what we were getting into.”
She’d known. She’d been young, not stupid. “Let’s just get through this, okay?”
He nodded. She grabbed the pad of paper and scribbled some more notes.
“So after…”
“I tried to immerse myself in work but it wasn’t enough. My emotions were all over the map and that translated into a lot of rage. So I lashed out.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure you want to hear this.”
Probably not. “Go ahead. I doubt you can tell me something I haven’t already heard. I don’t know how or why, but news about you filtered its way to me on a regular basis. It was as if no matter where I went I couldn’t get away from it.”
His expression darkened. “Someone knew you were my mate.”
Chey almost laughed out loud. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”
“What? That someone knew?”
“No. I don’t know. I mean just the actual part about being your mate. Aren’t we both getting a little old for this predestined, you can only be with one person crap?”
He glared at her. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Pretend away.” She grabbed the notepad and pencil again and began doodling in the corner. This whole damn thing was like a puzzle and her brain kept circling without quite landing on the missing puzzle piece. Maybe he was on to something. It would explain a lot of the weird things over the years.
“You’ve been outcast, Lucas is not currently welcome in the clan and Kane is having trouble holding onto his guardianship…” Her thoughts swirled and her mind swam. “What happens when there aren’t any black cougars left?”
Malcolm shrugged. “Not sure. No one’s even contemplated that until now as far as I know. What were the odds all of us would end up breaking some fundamental laws in the span of a few years? I’m sure the council must have some sort of plan.”
“What the hell kind of plan could replace the three of you? Your presence keeps the balance among all the clans. They fear you.”
“Yeah, intimidation goes a long way.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her nor was the bitter tone in his voice.
“It’s the animal genetics and you know it. The wolves don’t like the cats, the cats want nothing to do with the wolves and no one wants to be near the psychics because they make us nervous.” She tapped the pencil on the paper. Sifting through all of the possibilities. “So far nothing makes sense, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few years, it is that if it doesn’t seem logical then it has to be personal. Someone is up to something, and whatever it is, I’d say you and your brothers are at the core of it, and of course anyone who stands in the way of his or her goal.”
“What are you saying?” His eyes narrowed.
Chey blew out a frustrated breath. “Jesus, Malcolm. I don’t know. My head hurts, I’m tired and I’m feeling a little desperate to figure this out. I’ve been hunting too long.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She wasn’t about to tell him everything. But being this close to him after they’d… There must be something wrong with her. She certainly needed her head examined.
He reached for her and she jerked out of reach just in time.
“What the hell, Chey?”
“We aren’t doing that again,” she warned. “You used me. Although after seeing the physical agony of what you’ve gone through, I can’t say I actually blame you. In your situation I’d probably do the same.”
“No, you wouldn’t. That’s not the kind of woman you are. You would never do something to someone you care about that would hurt them. That’s the difference between us.”
Chey tried to filter through his words to the emotions underneath and failed. Whatever feelings fueled his thoughts he’d managed to carefully conceal behind his schooled features. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d heard about the black cougars? Their genetics were different. T
he animal kept a little more of the control over the human side. Not like she had any room to talk. She had DNA soup that made her an outcast. Even among their own kind, they remained wary with each other. Trust was never easily given. Ever.
He reached for her again and this time she allowed it. She was simply too tired to fight with him. Her body still simmered with an arousal she had no idea how long she could fight. Where Malcolm had left off the explanation of a born mate when he’d walked away, John had picked up the slack. There were a lot of prophecies involving the rare phenomena but most of what they had to go on was pure rumor.
“Lay down and sleep. We’ll be safe here for a few more hours before we have to move on.” His fingers rubbed her arm. A motion she took an unreasonable amount of comfort in.
Like it or not, their genetics already tied them together. He just had no idea how much. Chey curled on her side, a shiver working through her.
“Cold?”
“Always.” The bed dipped beneath her and a few seconds later Malcolm placed a blanket over her.
“I’m going to check the perimeter. There are safeguards in place but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I confirmed no other signs of visitors.”
She nodded. Letting their guard down now would be foolish, but she was so damn cold she ached. She didn’t want him to leave her. Irrational fear crowded her mind. His body heat would warm her. If only…
The air in the room shifted, grew colder with his departure. Exhausted from the stress of these long months, she grabbed the edge of the blanket and hunkered deeper into the softness. Her mind wandered through the day’s events. Had it really only been one day? It seemed like an eternity ago she’d broken into his house more determined than ever for information that would help her find the man who’d killed John. Like it or not, his death was her fault. She’d gotten involved with Malcolm against her better judgment—fallen in love with him actually. Then, when he’d lived up to his reputation, she’d allowed John to help her. Chey cursed her nature and her damned shifter DNA.
Now what? If she wanted Malcolm to help her find some answers then she needed to tell him the truth. At least then he wouldn’t be so anxious to call her mate. What she’d done… At least, what she’d perceived as a betrayal all those years ago had been honest. Brutal but honest. He hated the wolf. Probably still did. The hurt of the cat’s reaction earlier still stung.
Suddenly, heat blanketed her. Through the haze of near sleep she realized it was Malcolm, and he was both naked and aroused. Thank God for the clothes she’d opted to leave on. She doubted she could have resisted him pressing to her flesh-to-flesh. Moisture gathered between her legs.
“Malcolm.” She whispered his name into the dark, felt him stiffen then relax again.
“Shh. Just sleep, baby. You need the rest. It’s going to be a rough day tomorrow.”
“I need to tell you something.” She trembled with wariness, so afraid of his reaction to what she needed to confess. The silence between them stretched on until his breathing evened out behind her and she wondered whether or not she’d even said the words out loud.
How well did she know the man who’d decided to lay claim to her? They’d both changed over the years. So much bitterness stood between them. She could have told him the truth long before now, maybe even saved John if she’d just been more honest. Her fault.
Malcolm moved, startling her from her wayward thoughts. He draped a leg over hers and curled his arm around her stomach, his erection nudging insistently against her skin. How he slept in that condition she couldn’t fathom. Talk about distracting and uncomfortable. She was about to turn over and confront his arousal when the soft sound of a snore pushed air through her hair. Chey had to bite her lips to hold back a laugh. She lay there tense, waiting for him to move again. When he didn’t, her exhaustion took over and she closed her eyes. Sleep dragged her down. In the morning she’d tell him. She needed a full night’s rest to deal with that kind of anger.
Chapter Twelve
Heat surrounded him. The kind of comforting warmth he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. For the first time in practically as long as he could remember, he hadn’t woken filled with the pain of the cat trying to claw its way out. Even crazier, the slight rumble coming from his chest sounded suspiciously like a purr.
That he felt happy and renewed should have been his first clue that his situation was about to go to shit. Any time he’d ever let his guard down there was always someone there ready to kick him in the teeth. He opened his eyes and stared into the sleeping face of the one woman who had the power to ruin his life. Her blonde hair tumbled wildly around her head, almost the same color as her luminescent skin. That coloring gave her the appearance of fragility, something he knew to be almost laughable. She’d almost kicked his ass on a couple of occasions.
Sanity finally penetrated his sleep-fogged brain and he realized his throbbing dick was wedged between her thighs, nudging at her very slick pussy. The scent assailed his brain, making his heart pound harder and his breath quicken. Raging need shot through him, robbing him of even a shred of common sense. How in the hell had they ended up like this? And more importantly… How was he going to resist taking this too far before she woke up?
His hand clenched her thigh in an effort to stop from going any further. Yet his hips bucked at that moment, pushing his tip firmly against her entrance. One quick thrust and he’d be buried in all that beautiful silken heat he loved so damn much. She had a magic pussy. How else could he explain the need his brain couldn’t override? Damn.
Malcolm curved his hand around her ass cheeks and considered shifting them apart. Fuck that. The sensation of her sweet cream coating his aching flesh nearly made his mind numb with pleasure. Suddenly he had to taste her. He’d give anything to slide his tongue between those soft lips and nibble on her hard little clit until she begged him for mercy. He inwardly groaned. The images of her tender flesh in his face wasn’t helping the situation at all. Somewhere in the back of his mind the sensible man poked at him to move the fuck away. Thank goodness he could shut him the hell up.
“Chey,” he whispered into her ear seconds before untangling their limbs. He swallowed tightly against the friction the slightest move created. Pleasure exploded through his mind. He ground his teeth together to keep from shouting out. It amazed him how much effect she had on him. Mind numbing really.
Mate. The single word echoed in his mind. He already knew how much he didn’t deserve her, yet nothing could stop him from possessing her. Not even the wolf. A momentary hesitation stilled him. The cat stretched, a mewl of protest in the back of his brain. He growled in response. Fuck the wolf. He was so fucking far from perfect, what did it matter who her parents were? He’d become an outcast. Even worse, a criminal. He’d kidnapped his own brother when he couldn’t take the pain a second longer.
Now he’d suffer for not telling her his suspicions yesterday when her appearance made him feel more energized than ever before. Half his brain had been focused on testing his theory while the other had been consumed with the need for his mate. Years of denial had exploded in an instant and the information about another man had nearly sent him over the edge. He’d been hell bent on killing something for a while there yesterday.
She moved again, bringing her beautiful, hard-tipped breast directly into his line of sight. His mouth watered. Resistance flitted in his mind almost as fast as it departed. Controlling his lust in the face of so much temptation would be impossible for any man, but especially one like him. He always liked his women compliant but enjoyed a good fight to get them there. He’d considered for half a second tying her to his bed and having his way with her, but there was only so far he could take this at the moment. He wanted to give her an incredible amount of pleasure, not get killed.
On a regretful sounding sigh, she rolled onto her back, splaying her legs in a way that easily opened her to him. The scent of her arousal grew stronger. His mouth watered.
“Damn it, Chey. Wa
ke up.” He kissed her lips and cursed the need to take riding him harder than before. He didn’t expect that biting her, tasting her blood would drive him this mad. He blazed a trail of kisses from her mouth to the gentle curve of a breast, where a couple of well-placed nips to the soft flesh made her writhe against him.
“Mmm,” she murmured without opening her eyes. “Do you make a habit of undressing women in their sleep?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You were like this when I woke up.” Practically of its own volition, his tongue peeked out and stroked across the tight flesh of a nipple. When she didn’t protest, he did it again and again until the whimpers of need falling from her mouth joined with the arching of her back. “Makes me wonder what you were thinking about all night long.” He moved back and forth between breasts, making sure to share his attentions equally when finally her lids fluttered open and she nailed him with a heated gaze.
“You don’t exactly play fair, do you?”
“No such thing as fair,” he mumbled before scraping lightly across her nipple with his teeth.
She hissed and thrust her hips in the air. His hand pressed against her mound, the heat of it threatening to start a fire within him. They both held their breath until he eased a finger through the delicate folds that were slick with her juices.
“God, Malcolm. What’s wrong with me? I feel like I’m on fire,” she gasped.
“You’re not the only one, babe.” The craving to taste her cramped his balls until he couldn’t take it anymore. He rose over her and teased her sex with his iron hard shaft.
“Oh fuuuuck. Why are you teasing me?” Her keening cries only added fuel to the already out of control fire consuming him. His limbs shook with the need to plunge inside her. To sink balls deep and not stop. He dug deep for even an ounce of control. Not like this. Not yet. He wanted to taste her. Brand her again.
“I can’t stop now.”
Her eyes widened. “Stop? I’ll kill you if you do.”
