Savage Claim: Lion Hearts Book Two
Page 1
Savage Claim
Lion Hearts Book Two
Cecilia Lane
A Shifting Destinies Novel
Copyright © 2020 by Cecilia Lane
Cover Art by Kasmit Covers
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Savage Claim: Lion Hearts #2 by Cecilia Lane February 2020
Contents
Savage Claim
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Next in Series
Newsletter
About the Author
Also by Cecilia Lane
Savage Claim: Lion Hearts Book Two
Blood on the claws. Love on the run. Like crazy father, like darkness bound son.
Lion shifter Lindley denied his power and fled his dysfunctional pride to save his life. After a decade trying to escape the hell in his soul, he runs into the woman he loved and abandoned.
Runs, literally… as in with his truck.
His instinct is to chase her away, but if he doesn't save his fated mate, he'll be forever lost to encroaching madness.
Kyla is on the run. Her best friend was just sold to the highest bidder, and she's up next. But fate flings her into the path of the man she loved—and who left her to suffer.
He's not the boy Kyla remembers, but the man stakes a savage claim.
Lindley must put aside fear of his inner darkness and forge his aggression into a deadly weapon. Kyla must blossom from an awkward cub into a graceful lioness, and learn to raise her roar and her claws. If either of them falters, the consequence is not just broken hearts, but broken lives.
Savage Claim, Lion Hearts Book 2, is a steamy paranormal lion shifter romance. For readers who crave a fractured but honorable hero, a woman in peril, and a second chance for fated mates to find love.
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Chapter 1
Lindley Levine growled as soon as the cage doors of the fighting ring swung closed. The rattle of the chain wrapping around the handles and the click of the lock didn’t register. He was too keyed up. Too pissed off. He just wanted to wipe the cocky grin off his opponent’s face.
It wasn’t his father’s smirk, but it’d do in a pinch.
The fucker was just one of a thousand problems lurking around the corner. War was brewing with the bullshit lion consortium trying to pit shifters and humans against one another—his alpha had nearly lost his mate in the first skirmish—but Roland Levine was the extra weight that snapped Lindley’s carefully crafted mask of control.
He launched himself across the cage, fists swinging. The asshole—bear, maybe, he didn’t give a fuck—barely had time to register the attack before Lindley landed a hard hit on his chin, snapping his head to the side.
The crowd roared, bloodlust hot on their lips. He could taste their excitement in the air, smell it with every breath he dragged into his lungs. They wanted to see red spilled on the floor.
He jumped back before the man he fought recovered. He watched and waited, shifting from foot to foot. The blow was a knock-out punch to any human, but the bear just shook it off like a mosquito bite. Lindley had fought enough times in the ring or out in the wilds to know the next move to their chaotic dance.
Like clockwork, his opponent surged into action. A shout on his lips, he punched out with sharp jabs, trying to catch Lindley in the gut or head. He blocked the first, grunted as the second connected with his shoulder, and met the third with a solid blow of his own.
His lion roared through him, aching for blood just as loudly as the crowd cheering on the match. The fight was a necessity he couldn’t ignore, just as much as breathing and eating and drinking. Nothing quenched the fire boiling in his center like a hard-fought win. Nothing else kept him steady.
That was the Levine in him. Lindley loved it. Hated it. Two sides of the same damn coin, with his father’s face stamped on both.
A sudden crack to the head staggered him back against the chain-link of the cage wall.
He didn’t see stars; he saw faces. His father, a malicious smirk twitching the corners of his mouth. His mother, worry and regret in her eyes. His sister, laughing, always laughing because she was so fucking happy even while the rest of the world burned around them. And… Kyla.
Blonde hair, apple cheeks, lips that were made for kissing. He’d tasted them only once, but that kiss stuck with him where all the faceless encounters since faded from his memory. The one woman to hold his entire attention was the one he couldn’t touch.
Another blow to his ribs pulled Lindley out of his trip down insanity lane. With a snarl, he lunged for the other man and grabbed him around the waist. Locked together, they slammed fists and elbows wherever they could reach. Seconds slid by, then the whole cage shook with the slaps of the referee's hand against the fencing.
“Break it up!” he shouted.
Throwing a final punch, Lindley shoved away from the bear.
The howling of the crowd didn’t drown out the words that played over and over through his head. His father’s dark promises fueled his need to fight and make someone bleed.
The Levine legacy in action. Blood and darkness.
Lindley had been on a tear for days, jumping from one fight to another. It'd started when his sister's number lit up his phone. He'd answered the call, thinking it was Sage on the other line. Instead of one of their infrequent, secret conversations, his father spewed the snide hate he'd force-fed Lindley throughout his childhood.
He hadn’t been home for ten long years, but he was as mired in place as ever.
Lion slashing his insides, Lindley roared. His fists blurred with the inhumanly fast punches he threw into the bear’s sides, but the asshole still didn’t back down.
The faces haunting him didn’t fade, either. Weeks had passed since he’d heard from Sage. Kyla was a distant blip on the horizon. And his mother? Dead and gone. Killed by her own mate, yet the blood stained his hands.
He’d failed them all, and that fucking phone call proved it all over again.
Your ruin is coming, son of mine.
No threat, there. He already lived in the ruins of his life.
Murderer, they’d called him. Killer. Rabid fucking dog.
Lindley slammed his head forward, cracking a
gainst his opponent’s nose. The crunch and flood of blood that spewed over them were sure signs of a proper break. The bear stumbled, hands going to his face as he shook off the pain.
Lindley danced back, instincts from a thousand brawls guiding him. A ragged roar burst out of the other man as he threw himself back into the fight. He swung meaty fists, but unclenched them at the last second. Sharp claws darkened the tips of his fingers.
Lindley jerked away with a snarl. Asshole wasn’t supposed to shift, even partially. They could beat the shit out of each other until they fell, but they had to stick to their human forms. The motherfucker was about to steal a win from him.
He slid back into the brawl to the cheers of all in attendance. His lion roared through him, powering his blows, adding to his punches. He kept close to the fucker even when his claws lengthened and dug into his skin. The hurts just drove on the need to feed his beast a victory.
Blood flowed from a cut above his eyebrow, killing the vision in one eye, but that didn’t slow Lindley. He’d fought with worse injuries. Survived worse. He’d been close to death the night he left the Levine pride, but beaten wasn’t broken. He just had to keep moving.
Your ruin is coming.
Rage pumped through him with every thump of his heart. The fury of losing everything vibrated every cell of his body. No home. No family. No mate. His lion rippled through him with snarls and roars.
He threw his opponent against the chain-link walls of the cage, lashing out with a hard jab to the ribs. The same move caught the man on the other side. Lindley pummeled him over and over until he lifted a hand and tapped out against the cage.
The crowd cheered and stomped their feet. The wordless noise rolled over Lindley as he backed away, swaying on his feet. He pumped his fists in the air and let the roar of victory wash over him, feeling nothing but cold.
Faster than a viper strike, the bear tackled him to the ground.
They rolled over and over, both trying to gain the upper ground, both punching out where they could manage. Boos mingled with the cheers, but the crazy fuckers in the crowd still called out for more blood.
Lindley straddled the bear shifter, turning his face slightly to see out of his clear eye. He raised a fist as the crowd howled, then slammed it down with a sickening crunch.
And again.
And again.
The bear wasn’t anyone special. Not his father. Not the assholes who made up the Levine pride. Not Jasper or Ira or any of the bastards that tried to put the Crowley pride into the ground. But motherfucker, it felt good to sate the bloodlust of his inner demons.
He loved and hated the damage he caused. Darkness stroked against his insides, eating away at the remains of goodness that’d been fading from the day he took his first breath.
He couldn’t save them. He couldn’t save any of them. Sage. Kyla. His own dead mother. All the good parts of the world died while the Levine darkness remained.
Hands pulled at his arms, his chest, his shoulders. He yanked out of them with ease, swinging back into his savage destruction.
“Lindley, ease off!”
The order sliced through the air and covered him with a thick weight. His lion struggled against the command, slashing at his insides and roaring loud enough to drown out the noise of the crowd.
Fight. Kill.
The beast flashed sendings through him, dark scenes with vivid details of death. Trent’s, though he was sure it’d be a challenge fight of legends. Brutal, bloody, draw out… The lion practically salivated for the chance to prove himself the better.
Fucking alpha power. Lindley didn’t want a damn thing to do with it. Bad enough he’d been strong-armed into acting as second to the Crowley pride. His lion wasn’t content with playing second fiddle. The beast wanted the throne.
He was a Levine lion. Son of the alpha, raised to rule, his inner animal chafed taking orders from another.
Trent grabbed the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together. “Easy, Lin. Easy.”
The touch was supposed to be soothing. Comforting. Supposed to bring him back from the edge.
His lion raked him with his claws, tail flicking in agitation. A low growl rattled in his chest.
He’d vowed to himself to never come close to acting like his father, but there he was. Fresh off turning someone’s face into ground beef and looking for another bout ending in blood.
A flash of movement over Trent’s shoulder caught his eye. Hailey shoved through the crowd, her gaze immediately going to her mate.
That look, that single look, quieted his raging beast and kicked up a storm inside Lindley.
He used to think a mate would steady him out. A home would keep him grounded. He needed something to hold back the darkness that twisted inside him. But the further he spiraled out of control, the more he knew it’d be an act of cruelty to tie someone to him.
He didn’t want to be his father. He hid those dark parts of himself down deep. But he’d let the mask slip and showed the monster underneath.
The air was too thick. Too many eyes were watching. His chest tightened under the weight of his losses.
No home. No family. No mate.
Breathing hard, Lindley ripped out of Trent’s grasp and wiped the blood from his face. He hated the mirrored looks of worry in Trent and Hailey’s eyes. Sooner or later, he’d be another name on the list of the dead his alpha shouldered.
Or Trent would be the second on his.
“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered, voice thick with his inner beast. Even before Trent opened his mouth, he snapped, “Don’t follow.”
Ruin.
He was ruined. He didn’t need dear old Dad to tell him so.
Chapter 2
“The illegitimate Crowley pride must be eradicated. Their attack on consortium lions proves how low they’ve fallen. They’re as lost as the rest of the weak shifters inhabiting Bearden,” Ira condemned with a grimace and a dismissive wave of his hand.
Kyla Durant kept the smile pasted on her face until she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. It wasn’t safe otherwise. The wrong angle and a sudden flicking of eyes over her frown would mean trouble she didn’t want to face for breaking one of Roland Levine’s chief rules. The females in his pride were to be pleasant hosts to all who dined at his table.
Even if those guests were free with their hands and made her want to bathe with a single glance of their monstrous eyes. She didn’t know much, but she hoped that Crowley pride kept clipping the legs out from under the likes of Roland and all his consortium friends.
Kyla quietly set the tray in her hands on the counter next to the stove. Another rule. Lionesses were to be seen, not heard, even as they went about their tasks.
Sage glanced her way, but didn’t stop stirring the gravy in front of her. “How is it out there?” she whispered.
Kyla shrugged. “About what you’d imagine.”
Loud, boisterous laughs and the pounding of fists against the table made them both jump. Several tense seconds passed before they relaxed back into their tasks. Kyla unloaded the remains of the salad course and laid out a serving tray for the roast.
“Fluffing each other up before the final pump off?”
Kyla snorted as she transferred the meat to the dish. No matter how many years they’d been best friends, Sage still found ways to make her laugh at inappropriate times.
“Looks like you’re stirring the evidence,” she breathed back.
Sage stuck out her tongue in a mimed gag, then filled the gravy boat and set it next to a bowl of fluffy potatoes on her own serving tray.
Kyla glanced over her shoulder, chewing on her lower lip. The prickle of eyes on the back of her neck lifted fine hairs all over her body. “I don’t like how many of the pride are gathered. Something is happening tonight.”
Sage frowned. “The whole pride?”
“Seems like. Those not at the table are crowded in the halls and on the couches.”
Which was enough to r
ing alarm bells in Kyla’s head without Roland’s guests added to the mix. Fights tended to break out when too many males were thrust together. Their jerkface alpha never lifted a claw to stop them. He encouraged the competition to prove who had the tiniest, most fragile of egos.
“You know what to do, then,” Sage said softly. “We’ll get through tonight and then tomorrow…”
Kyla dipped her chin once. Her stomach twisted with nerves as a shiver worked down her spine. Part fear, part excitement, one hundred percent relief. The next day would mark their last in the Levine pride. “Eyes down, ears open.”
It was the only way to survive.
“Hurry up,” another lioness snapped as she marched past with two side dishes.
Kyla frowned after the tall, dark-haired woman. She hadn’t given her name, but she’d arrived with Jasper and Ira. The haunted look she wore even after fixing her lips into a false smile was a stab in the gut.
“She doesn’t say much,” Sage whispered.
Her discomfort scented the air, matching Kyla’s own. They’d both watched the light die in too many eyes. Neither wanted to be next, which was why they planned to escape.
The Levine pride had always favored males over females, the strong over the weak. What had always been unfair had turned unbearable over the last few years. Anyone who tried to speak out found themselves banished or worse, disappeared.