Bengal's Quest

by Lora Leigh

  te’s eyes. Gideon, Graeme, whichever face he showed to the world, he was hers. His one drive for as long as she could remember had been her protection. Nothing, no one else had ever mattered but her. She’d always longed for a place to belong, but as she stared up at him, she realized she’d never had to fight for such a thing. She’d always belonged, because she had always been his life.

  “I didn’t know,” she gasped, trying to hold on to him as an animal’s scream of rage seemed to echo around her. “I didn’t understand . . .”

  Oh God, she couldn’t breathe.

  “I love you,” she whispered, gasping, feeling her spirit being ripped from its mooring. “Hold me, G. Hold me . . .”

  Darkness wrapped around her.

  No. Not yet. She needed him one more time. She needed to tell him she was sorry for taking so long to understand. She needed to tear his ass for not telling her so many things. She needed to love him.

  She didn’t want to leave him.

  But she was being taken. She could feel it, feel that all-encompassing weight coming over her, sucking the life from her and stealing her from all she had ever known . . .

  Stealing her from the dream of holding the man she’d always known belonged to her. Heart and soul.

  Her G.

  • CHAPTER 22 •

  Graeme stared into the sunlit landscape from the balcony of the bedroom, the heat of the day barely registering any more than the presence of those standing with him registered.

  Jonas Wyatt, Rule Breaker and his brother, Lawe Justice. Lobo Reever and three of his Wolf Breed alphas and the one female, Cassie Sinclair. Where the hell Cassie had come from he hadn’t even questioned. She’d been there, watching him sadly when he’d returned to the house, her face pale, tears standing in her eyes as he moved past her up to the bedroom.

  Cat’s bedroom.

  The scent of her filled it, surrounded him. For hours he just sat on the bed, letting her scent seep into him, remind him of what he’d held. She smelled of summer in the mountains, high above the chaos of the world. That innocence and truth a man found only when confronted with the Earth as it should be. Natural. Free of artifice. That was his Cat.

  They’d taken her from him and he’d been helpless . . . he, who commanded a creature unlike any he’d heard of, a primal base instinct that came alive to protect his mate, and he’d been helpless.

  The winds had locked him in place, ignoring his roars, his struggles, and they’d taken her from his arms as he’d felt the life lifting from her. He’d screamed out to her, he’d begged her not to leave him.

  And they had taken her.

  The moment he’d lost sight of her the winds had released him, but there was no finding her. And the fight had just gone out of him. The monster had retreated, sulking in silence and waiting. Oh, it was waiting. His mate was taken, and the monster would have vengeance. Graeme would find them, he would tear apart every rock, every speck of dust in that desert and he’d find them, as soon as he could accept that they’d taken a lifeless Cat from his arms.

  Lifeless.

  He’d felt her spirit being torn from her body, torn from him. When he’d looked up he’d been alone. Even the winged Breeds had disappeared into the night, and he’d been left kneeling in the dust, silent, staring down at where Cat had been, unable to believe what he knew.

  “We had no idea Keenan and his men were in the area,” Jonas stated, his voice low as he stood braced by the railing of the balcony. “There wasn’t so much as a whisper they were here.”

  “There were rumors they were hiding in South America again after hearing of surviving winged females,” Rule interjected. “We sent messages to them, offering to help, but never heard anything back.”

  He would have helped them, Graeme thought. He had helped them. The technology they possessed to remain invisible to even Breed senses, he had given them. The armor in their leather clothing, he’d given them, just as he’d created the therapy that strengthened the muscles of their wings, allowing them to add more muscle to their bodies and still fly.

  He’d helped them, yet they had taken her from him and allowed her life to be stolen.

  His mate. His mate had been taken from his arms and he hadn’t been able to do a damned thing to stop it.

  He’d find them, those winged bastards, he’d kill Keenan. The others he’d make watch. He’d make that bastard scream for days before allowing him to die. Then one by one, he’d take out the Unknown and their leaders, the Six Chiefs. The Navajo spirit warriors did nothing without the chiefs knowing. And he’d start with Orrin Martinez. Old, weak, he wouldn’t last long, but Gideon would leave the proof of the hell a Breed could bring when his mate was taken.

  “Graeme . . .”

  “I am Gideon,” he stated softly in response when Jonas spoke. “I am retribution.”

  He heard a small sigh from Jonas.

  “Our enforcers are searching for Orrin Martinez,” Rule said. “Neither he nor the other chiefs have been found yet, but they will be.”

  He’d start with Lincoln Martinez, Graeme decided. When he made it to the Unknown, he’d go for Lincoln first. Claire’s brother had been there. He’d been the one to take Cat from his arms, staring back at Graeme in regret.

  “I’ll bring her back,” Lincoln had whispered. “Once the passing’s complete, I’ll bring her to you.”

  “Please . . .” he’d begged, unable to stop the warrior from taking her. “No . . .”

  Still, Lincoln had taken her. Holding her gently in his arms, he’d walked away without looking back.

  Blood.

  He would take blood for this. The thirst for it was already building in his senses, the monster, cunning and brutal, plotting the best course of action. As soon as Graeme could make himself believe.

  “Jonas, understand now I’ll fight you if you try to pull Breed Law and take him,” Lobo stated from where he stood at Graeme’s side. “Our agreement gives me complete autonomy within my lands. Don’t try it.”

  “Reever, if I’d wanted him, I’d have taken him when he and Rule were taking care of Rule’s little problem months ago,” Jonas snorted. “Don’t insult me. I retaliate in ways you don’t even want to experience.”

  Graeme had known Jonas was aware of who he was, Jonas just been unable to prove it.

  “Then why the hell have you been pretending to hunt him down?” Lobo snapped. “The search you’ve conducted for him has drawn on every Genetics Council soldier, Breed and scientist in existence.”

  And that was exactly the point.

  “That was our plan,” Graeme stated absently. “We met after Amber’s last dose of the therapy. I couldn’t leave him and Rachel tormented with questions regarding her changes. Cat would have been angry with me if she learned Rachel was crying in fear for her child. Before that, we communicated often, though he rarely trusted my claims and refused to cooperate. Still, the intensity of the search was never what it was perceived to be.”

  He’d taken a risk and he’d known then he had. But the mother’s tears had reminded him far too much of the tears Cat’s mother had shed when talking about the loss of her daughter, Catarina.

  His Cat.

  Helena believed Cat had died in her arms at three days old from the genetic anomaly she’d been born with. And she still cried to speak of it.

  “Son of a bitch, you two should have been twins,” Rule cursed in disbelief. “One of these days, Jonas, your games will get you killed.”

  “Learn from it.” Jonas didn’t sound at all understanding. “If you want to take my place at some point, then you better learn how to do it.”

  Yes, Jonas was grooming Rule and several others. They were natural gamesmen, the Breeds Jonas was slowly attempting to bring into his world. Too slowly, Graeme had often mused.

  He’d planned to help the director to teach his chosen directors how to manipulate the world around them and the information that came in. It would be incredibly easy for them once they pushed past
their opinion of Jonas’s machinations. That wouldn’t happen now. There was simply no will to continue.

  No will.

  This was why he was not combing the desert for vengeance now. Why the monster had retreated into silence. There would be no vengeance because there was no will to fight. His Cat was gone.

  “What was the point in all the deception, Jonas?” Lawe asked then. “The supposed search for an insane Breed you were conspiring with?”

  But it wasn’t Jonas who answered.

  “Lines of communication between spies,” Lobo answered for him. “Distracting the enemy into searching for what they thought Jonas was desperate to find while Jonas was slipping beneath the radar to acquire information himself. Identifying moles and rogues and those he could trust so he could begin strengthening Breed ties to communities, politics and infrastructures.”

  In a nutshell.

  “If we’re going to survive, we have to look past distaste for manipulations and games to ensure we strengthen the ties the Breeds have in the areas that will ensure we can’t be wiped away easily,” Jonas agreed. “Right now, our position is tenuous as hell. The world could turn against us as easily as they backed us. Unless we want to find ourselves hunted, then we have no choice but to be smarter, more cunning and deceptive than those who believe they created us. And the choices in doing so are limited.”

  To survive, those Breeds with the clarity to see beyond just survival had to make the hard choices. Graeme had once been one of those Breeds.

  He couldn’t be any longer. Without Cat, there was nothing to fight for.

  There were a few loose ends to tie up, a call to make to Benjamin Foster to tell him good-bye. The man he’d called father would grieve, but Graeme could find no regret for it. The information he’d amassed since he was a child Graeme would have to pull together and ensure it went to the proper caretaker. Someone who would use it wisely. Jonas was the obvious answer, but Graeme had already chosen another whose strength and ability to see beyond games would serve the Breeds far more where such vast knowledge was concerned.

  “Graeme?” Judd stepped to the balcony.

  No, he wasn’t Judd any longer. He was Cullen. Graeme hadn’t expected his brother to arrive. The need to maintain the secrecy of his identity had been far too important.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” Graeme sighed, wiping a hand across his face, shocked to feel the dampness there.

  There was no way to hide who he was while standing at Graeme’s side. They were twins, born of the same mother, split from the same egg, identical in nearly all things.

  “Where else would I be?” Cullen asked, his voice weary. “My men are scouring the desert . . .”

  “As one of the Unknown, you should know where they are,” Rule snapped, the knowledge he possessed no longer deemed a secret. “Where are they, Cullen?”

  “I’m not one of the true Unknown,” Cullen informed the Breed, his voice tight. “I’m a member of their inner circle, called the Unknown, but not privy to their secrets, Rule. Especially this one. If I’d known, I’d have killed every one of them to stop it.”

  “Enough.” Graeme turned his gaze back to the desert beyond. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  Few things mattered.

  Make the calls. Gather the information and make certain Cullen had everything in place to secure it properly. Then he would drift . . .

  Something soft dropped into his lap. Looking down, he saw the tattered brown teddy bear he’d asked Khi for. Cat’s teddy bear. He kept it in his workroom sitting at his desk. So many nights that one-eyed piece of stuffed cloth had kept the insanity from ripping his mind to shreds.

  “She loved this damned teddy bear,” he whispered as he reached out and touched one threadbare ear. “Cuddled it like it was a baby when she was little.”

  There was still the faintest trace of blood on it from when he’d killed a guard who was attempting to take it. He should have died for the transgression, but he’d been far too important to kill. Brandenmore had considered him the key to all the research he’d been conducting. The bastard had never known Graeme had already figured it all out. He’d let Brandenmore die a horrific death for the countless lives the bastard had taken needlessly.

  “I shouldn’t have taken it from her.” He sighed, glancing up at Cullen. “I should have found a way to get both of you out when I escaped.”

  There had been no way to do it, though. He’d planned for years and hadn’t been able to find a way to take even his Cat with him. And God knew he’d tried. Tried desperately.

  “She’s gone,” he said softly, shaking his head as he rose tiredly from the chair. “Leave,” he ordered all of them. “Just fucking leave.”

  He needed silence. He needed to lie in the bed he’d shared with her and wrap himself in her scent for just a little while and forget he’d failed her. Forget how he’d failed her.

  “Graeme, Cat wouldn’t want this for you,” Khi whispered, her voice strangled, filled with tears. “She loved you. She wouldn’t want you to give up.”

  “She’s not here to make that decision,” he snarled. “She’s gone, Khi. They took her. She doesn’t get to give her opinion.”

  “At least not until she’s done kicking your ass.”

  Graeme swung around, blocking the doorway from the others as he stared into the room, certain he hadn’t heard her. It couldn’t be her.

  Standing in the middle of her room, dressed as she’d been the night before in her snug black mission suit. It was dusty, smeared with a hint of mud and smelling of the earth wrapped in smoky secrets.

  He could smell her as he never had. The mating scent was like a wildfire burning around her, calling to him, infusing him with such hungry lust he growled at the strength of it. That same dust streaked her face, layered her mussed hair as it strayed from the braid and lingered at the soft curve of her neck.

  One hand was propped on her hip as she watched him with narrowed eyes, but, for all her bravado and challenge, the scent of her lust and the emotions roiling through her, he could sense exhaustion as well.

  “About time. Come on, everyone, let’s give them some peace.” Cassie pushed past him with a gentle shove and strolled into the bedroom to grin at Cat. “I didn’t know if he was going to drink someone’s blood or put a bullet in his brain. Thankfully, he intended to wait to do either, so I thought we were safe waiting for you to return.”

  “You knew she wasn’t dead?” Jonas sounded outraged, Graeme was certain he would be outraged as well, later.

  “‘Knew’ is a rather strong word,” Cassie informed them all. “She didn’t feel dead, so I was hoping . . .”

  Compassion vied with amusement as she left the bedroom, followed by the others, their expressions amazed as they kept their eyes on Cat for as long as possible.

  “You were lucky, brother.” Cullen stopped at his side, his hand pressing Graeme’s back momentarily. “Don’t fuck it up.”

  The grief in his brother’s voice was subtle, reminding Graeme that Cullen had lost his wife several years before.

  The door closed behind his brother seconds later, leaving Graeme to assure himself his mate was truly there.

  “Cat?” he whispered, stepping closer, his throat tightening, emotion swamping him. “Baby? You’re really here?”

  She took the last steps to him, her hand reaching up to touch his face, her expression softening as the scent of love . . . it was love, wrapped around him.

  “I love you, G.” Tears fell from her eyes. “I’m going to kick your ass, I really am. But I want you to know, I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.” A sob hitched her voice. “I’m so sorry.”

  She smelled of love. Indescribable, pure and invincible.

  Love. He’d doubted love when she’d spoken of it, but in the many hours since he’d felt her die in his arms, he’d fully realized what he felt was love, but far more as well.

  “‘Sorry’?” he whispered, reaching out to touch her, to believe she was there,
to prove to himself it wasn’t some crazed hallucination brought on by his desperation to hold her, to touch her, once again. “Why should you be sorry, Cat?”

  “For not understanding,” she whispered, staring up at him with tear-filled eyes. “For not understanding your need to protect me, no matter the cost to yourself.”

  He shook his head, his hand lifting to touch her damp face, only to realize his hand was shaking, his fingers trembling so desperately he couldn’t still them. And he had to touch her. Her lips, parted for him, soft as silk and so very tempting.

  “We’ll talk later.” Later. He had to kiss her, had to hold her, show her his love for her. “Talk later.”

  Swiftly lowering his head his lips covered hers, his swollen, aching tongue piercing her lips to sweep inside.

  The taste of honey, sweet, innocent and filled with life, met his kiss. The taste exploded through his senses, through his soul. The mating hormone, once barely present in her system exploded against his taste buds and filled his senses now like a spark exploding into a brilliant, consuming flame burning through his senses.

  She lived, here in his arms, his heart, the soul of who and what he was, and nothing else mattered.

  She lived.

  The pleasure was stronger, hotter. The taste of spicy heat in his kiss sank into her senses with such power that she couldn’t get enough, couldn’t sate the overwhelming need for that taste spilling to her senses.

  His tongue rubbed against hers, teased her into closing her lips on it and drawing the rich potency from the glands beneath his tongue. Then he’d draw back, tempting her tongue to follow his to allow him to do the same. The passionate duel became a dance of give and take as they tore the clothes from each other’s body, determined to meet skin to skin.

  Bootlaces were shredded, the leather kicked aside. Sharp claws ripped the formfitting black pants from her hips as Cat’s claws snapped the band of the denim covering his before tearing the material down the legs, allowing him to kick free of them. Shirts were nothing but strips of material littering the floor, in no way resembling what they once were.

  Naked, bodies burning, adrenaline infused with mating hormones, far too powerful now to deny the bond hidden by forces out of their control for so long that the hunger for it overrode any finesse or thought of foreplay.

  Cupping her rear with clawed fingers Graeme lifted her to him, feeling her thighs lift to his hips, the slickness of her juices spilling from her, meeting the head of his cock as he pushed past silken folds to thrust inside the brutal ache centered in her vagina.

  “G, oh God, it’s so good,” she cried out, claws pricking the tough skin of his shoulders as her lips buried at his neck as he thrust again, harder, going deeper as sharp ecstasy echoed through her senses with each penetration inside her sheath.

  Each savage thrust buried him further inside her, parting flesh clamped with fierce determination to hold on to each inch forcing its way inside her. The instinctive female Breed response to her mate ensured the male battled for possession, while the ecstatic pain of each thrust heightened her pleasure as well as her mate’s.

  The savagery of their possession of each other might shock them later, for now, each pushed for supremacy, Breed genetics fueling a sensual, sexual battle ensuring the mating to the very depths of their souls. Nothing worth having came without a battle of determined forces pushing in opposition, and that primal instinct was such a part of Breed mating that each day became an adventure in both the sensual as well as the bonding of all they were.

  A snarl left Graeme’s chest as she fought each thrust, inner muscles clamping on his erection even as ultraslick fiery heat spilled from the depths of her vagina and the desperate need to have him filling her only tightened her channel further. The pleasure was indescribable. A lash of pleasure-pain with each thrust that dragged a cry from her throat, spilled more of her slick juices and only intensified the ache.

  “Mine.” His snarl was the only warning she had before she felt him retreat, lifting her and turning her before pushing her to her knees on the bed and mounting her with dominant strength. Pushing her shoulders to the bed with one hand while holding her hips in place with the other he thrust into her from behind, pushing deeper with each impaling drive of his hips until he was buried to the hilt and moving with furious strokes that ensured her inability to tighten the grip of those intimate muscles fully.

  Spreading her thighs further apart with his knees Graeme came over her, his teeth locking in the delicate flesh between neck and shoulder, biting just hard enough to send flash-fire sensations erupting from the spot his teeth gripped her flesh to merge with the fiery brilliance of sensation exploding through her senses with each thrust of his cock into her body.

  The ecstatic slash of pleasure and pain whipping through her body tightened the spiraling sensations building through her senses. She was overwhelmed with the desperation for more, for harder, deeper, for the blinding chaotic ride to that point where their souls merged in explosion of pure rapture and melding ecstasy.

  The feel of his erection thrusting savagely inside her, burying to the hilt with each stroke, burning past nerve endings so sensitive to each touch that it only fueled that wildfire burning out of control inside her, only pushed her higher, faster. She was flying on the savage pleasure, female growls matching the male snarls of extreme pleasure vibrating against her back until her claws were shredding the sheets beneath her, her hips churning beneath him. A rush of sensation stormed through her body, pulsing through her swollen clit and the desperate grip flexing around each intrusion. It flamed through her mind, exploded through her senses and detonated in the depths of the center of her body with a power and ecstasy so powerful and savage she felt herself thrown into the blinding, fiery heat of release.

  Immediately her muscles clamped on the erection burying full length inside her, rippling over it, sucking at it as he stiffened behind her and exploded with a low, drawn-out snarl of intense, male pleasure.

  In that second, their senses collided once again, opening to each other, a part of each other, intensifying each surging wave of blinding sensation until they were locked in each other’s souls. The barb located beneath the wide crest of his cock became erect, extending into the hidden, nerve-rich area just beneath her clit. The pressure of the throbbing extension spilling its own release exploded in the swollen bud, sending another violent wave of pleasure shuddering through her body as animal instincts surged closer to those of the male behind her, locking them inside each other’s soul for an eternal heartbeat of time. They felt the other’s unconditioned love, the fierceness of each other’s needs, his to protect her, hers to fight beside him. They felt the acceptance of strengths, of weaknesses, and knew the battles they’d face. They each felt the eternal bonds of love that ignited Mating Heat and fueled the pleasure as well as the primitive responses it caused.

  In the blinding seconds of release, they were so much a part of each other that there was no hiding, no covering each facet of who and what they were as well as the vision each had of the other. The beauty of the world they found for those fragile seconds within the soul of the other erased past hurts, secrets and fears.

  If death came tomorrow, one wouldn’t go without the other. There was no existing without a chance to find such beauty again. No existing without the love, shelter and peace they found in finding each other.

  As the last pulse of brutal pleasure shuddered through their senses and that moment in time passed, they collapsed against the bed, exhaustion swamping them and pulling them into a sleep so deep, so filled with healing comfort that the scars of the past, of nightmares and fears slowly began to ease.