Savage Claim: Lion Hearts Book Two

by Lane, Cecilia

  “I thought I could let you walk away.”

  His lion prowled through him, pleased and pissed all at once. The beast wanted more. Craved more. Demanded more. She was theirs. Always had been. Always would be.

  He added a second finger and pumped into her again and again. Her tongue darted over her lips. She wrapped her arms around him as the first shudder worked through her.

  Raw need gripped him. He wanted to be inside her when she spilled over the edge. Needed to feel her quake around him.

  He pulled his fingers from her and had her in his arms a second later. He drove into her on one powerful thrust.

  “Lindley!” she cried, head falling back. Her arms tightened around his neck, holding him to her.

  What a fucking sight she made. Wet strands of hair clung to her neck and cheeks. The rosy color of her skin darkened even more as he dragged himself out of her, then powered forward again.

  She chose him. She followed him into the arms of danger without a care for her own safety. He had to match that madness with devotion of his own.

  “There’s no going back for me, Kyla,” he vowed. “You’re mine.”

  She nodded, earnest shine glowing in her eyes. “Mine, too.”

  Her body hugged him tight, squeezing him as he stroked into her. He dropped his head against her shoulder as his cock twitched, ready to spill inside her. Fuck, she felt good. Too good. Too fucking good to do anything but give himself over to the sheer pleasure.

  He palmed her breast and stroked a nipple with his thumb. The touch dragged another shudder from her body. Hot breath on his skin made heat crawl up his spine.

  Lids half-closed, gold sparking to life in her eyes, his heart nearly stopped in his chest at the emotion shining back at him. Too raw, too powerful, still too delicate for words, they existed nonetheless.

  He deserved exactly zero from her, but she offered herself completely anyway.

  “Lindley,” she whimpered, teeth catching her lower lip.

  He bucked into her harder, faster, driving them relentlessly toward a cliff they could both jump off, hand in hand, together. His grunts mixed and mingled with her softer groans, the sounds joining with the slap of flesh on flesh.

  She had him. His lion broke apart in his head, all the danger and darkness tumbling to the ground to rejoin in a better, remade image just for her. She had him entirely.

  Lindley reared back with a hiss as her nails dug into his shoulders, almost breaking the skin. Kyla threw her head back with a scream, his name hot on her lips. Her body throbbed around his.

  Heat fisted the base of his spine and shot through his shaft as he emptied inside her with a roar. Another hard thrust tightened her around him again.

  Head buzzing, he slowed his thrusts until both their aftershocks dwindled down to nothing and threatened to spiral back up again.

  Lindley gathered her hair in one hand and tilted her head to the side. Gorgeous woman. Markless, but his all the same. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he managed to groan.

  Kyla pressed her palms to his cheeks and brought their eyes level. Seriousness swirled in her eyes as the gold of her lion mixed with the grey of her human half. “We’re in this together.”

  The words terrified him and felt absolutely right.

  Chapter 22

  Kyla propped herself on an elbow and watched Lindley. Even in sleep, he looked tense and troubled. She didn’t blame him. She just wished she could make things better. But unless she could bring his mother back to life, teleport his sister to their side, and wave away the years of hurt at the hands of his father, there was nothing she could do.

  Scratch that. She could be there for him. Keep him from running himself off a cliff. Be the voice of reason reminding him that they didn’t need to let the past kick them to the ground; they could keep moving forward instead.

  Hard to do that when they were chasing parts of their past.

  Her lioness rumbled inside her. Kyla slid her eyes closed at the flash of pain. She wasn’t ready to throw in the towel and say goodbye to Sage, but she wanted the will they-won’t they limbo of finding her to end. On a positive note. If Lindley had that win, maybe he could let the other hurts rest.

  Not forgotten. Never forgotten. Probably not at peace, either. Just… at rest.

  The whirr of something electric cracked her eyes open in a momentary wave of panic. The steady sputter of liquid hitting the bottom of a disposable coffee cup let her relax back against the pillow.

  She stared at the ceiling for a moment longer before easing out of bed and reaching for her clothes. Kyla lost her balance tugging on her jeans and slammed her knee against the dresser. She bit back a curse and shot a worried look to Lindley, but he didn’t stir.

  Good. Her chest warmed and her lioness purred. He needed his rest.

  Quietly and carefully, she crossed the room and eased open the adjoining door leading between rooms.

  Rhys snored softly in one bed. Dash sprawled out in the other, eyes closed, but the tight set of his jaw and hard line of his mouth were evidence he only pretended to rest. Or maybe hoped.

  Kyla winced at the awful sight of his leg. They’d reset the bone back where they’d stopped Lindley, but the healing was a slow process. He was encased from ankle to thigh with bandages, but blood still seeped from the wounds underneath. What she could see of his skin was black and blue with fresh, deep bruises.

  Shifter healing was a double-edged sword sometimes. Fast and almost miraculous, treatment was often needed in less than ideal conditions to avoid permanent damage. Some of the hardest fighters she knew were also the best at fixing themselves and others up.

  On the other hand, the bigger the wounds, the more strain put on the body. Man and beast would require plenty of rest and food before he could shift to fix the worst of the damage, and even more before he was back at full strength.

  “Morning,” Trent greeted quietly from his spot near the window. “There’s shit coffee if you want some.”

  “I thought I heard the maker running,” she answered just as softly. She took a seat in the empty seat and tucked her feet under her. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

  “Nah, not tonight. Someone had to keep an eye on the brood.”

  She huffed a laugh. Brood. As if the monsters under their skins were chickens. Far from it. They were some of the bravest men she knew, willing to throw themselves in the path of a rampaging lion just to keep him from certain death.

  She nodded to his phone on the nightstand. “Hailey keeping you company?”

  “What?” Trent shook his head. “No. She’s snipping balls in the morning, so I told her to get some rest. Ethan’s been giving me updates. No sightings around our territory. I thought by now someone would have come nosing around for our guest. We might just turn him loose and see where he runs once we get back, though there’s no telling if it’ll be down to Nevada and the Levines or somewhere else and Jasper.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and quirked an eyebrow at her. “How is he?”

  Only one person he could mean, especially with the fresh tang of concern in the air.

  “Sleeping. He didn’t even move when I got out of bed. Knocked my knee against the dresser and not even a hitch to his breathing.” Kyla dragged down a breath to stop her babbling. “This has been a lot on him,” she said carefully.

  Trent leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “I’d be more worried if it wasn’t hitting him hard. Stubborn sonovabitch tries to keep himself locked up tight. Something was always bound to crack him wide open.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad he has someone to keep him grounded.”

  “I don’t know how much I’m helping,” she admitted.

  Trent gave her a sharp look. “He would have killed one of us tonight. You pulled a dumb stunt back there, but it was exactly what he needed to turn him away from the edge. That’s helping. You made sure we all survived.”

  Kyla studied him from the corner of her eye. He positioned himself as the polar opposite of Roland in just
a few short minutes. Lindley’s father never would have lost sleep over any injuries in his pride, nor would he have sacrificed his comfort for his mate’s. Dash would have been forced to suck up the pain on the drive home or be left behind. Hell, he wouldn’t have even stopped to rest unless he needed it himself.

  Not Trent. The gruff alpha put everyone else’s needs ahead of his own.

  Every last idea Roland tried to feed his pride was pure garbage.

  Humans were dangerous? Well, she certainly didn’t want to get on Hailey’s bad side, but the woman was more than capable of holding her own with the big males that made up her pride.

  Lions shouldn’t mix with others? Bullshit. Utter bullshit. The Crowleys had allies in the bear clan on the next ranch over. They pulled support from other shifters in the enclave.

  They were a real pride. A proper pride. They didn’t try to tear each other down just for the hell of it. They were stronger for it, too. There was a trust and understanding between them that Roland didn’t have with his lions.

  “You really care for them, don’t you?”

  “When they aren’t being pains in my ass, which is practically never.”

  Dash cracked one lid, a deeper grimace on his face. “Fucker, you better not get weepy on us. Can’t you see I’m trying to be miserable here?”

  Trent chuckled. “How’s the leg?”

  “Leg’s fine. I’m ready to kick up my heels and go dancing.” He swung his gaze to her. “You in? Or will your boy toy try to eat me alive again?”

  “Probably, but not because of me.” Kyla shrugged with a smile hitching the corner of her mouth. “I doubt he’ll like being called boy toy.”

  Dash grunted, then pushed himself upright.

  “Where are you going?” Trent grumbled.

  “Told you, I’m ready to dance. After I take a—” He cut himself off and slid a look to Kyla. “I need to use the facilities,” he corrected in nicer language.

  Kyla snorted.

  Trent pushed to his feet and stretched his arms out wide, then took the short step to the side of Dash’s bed. He hooked an arm around the man’s trunk and helped him to his feet. “I’ll get you in there, but I’m not touching your dick.”

  “And here I thought we had something special.” Dash bit back a groan as the two lurched toward the bathroom.

  “We have more rounds for the tranq gun…”

  Dash wheezed a laugh. “Fuck that. I’m milking this for all its worth. Some ice will do me fine.”

  Kyla grabbed the bucket from its spot on the dresser. “I’ll get it.”

  “Kyla, wait—”

  She closed the door on the rest of the objection. Trent had his hands full. The others were asleep. She could get a bucket of ice, no problem. That was what real prides did for each other.

  Nothing stirred on the other side of the door. Even the road edging one side of the motel was silent and dark. Not a lot of traffic passed through the sluggish town, she figured. Probably why Jasper and his consortium pals used it as a drop point. The place wasn’t too far off the main highway, but small enough to avoid the bustle and eyes of a bigger town. Trent had needed to ding the front desk bell for five minutes before the sleepy night manager made an appearance, so even those living there didn’t expect much in the way of traffic.

  Kyla hurried down the side of the building and into the corridor connecting another wing. Vending machines for snacks and drinks sandwiched the ice machine. She stuck the bucket under the spout and pressed the handle to noisily summon cubes.

  “Hey!”

  She twisted around, hand still on the handle, fast enough for ice to tumble to the ground. At the other end of the short corridor stood a male as big as the ones she just left. His hair looked dark in the low light, clipped short. The bushy beard hanging down his chest didn’t hide the exasperated purse of his lips.

  “What the hell are you doing out here alone?”

  Blood pounded in her ears as the male stepped closer. The baked earth scent overpowered anything in that small corridor. Her lungs locked up as her palms slicked with sweat.

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  “Fucking Zombies,” the lion muttered. “Can’t even keep their eyes on females.”

  Zombies?

  Oh, super shit.

  Kyla’s tongue dried up and shriveled. Her lioness sat utterly still inside her, ready to bolt. Or fight. She honestly wasn’t sure which. And while she’d have loved to take the time and analyze the newfound spine in her inner cat, she had a much bigger problem at hand.

  He meant the Romero pride.

  One of the missing leads for tracking Sage, they’d vanished without a trace. Except they hadn’t slipped through the veil between worlds or tied stones around their necks and heaved themselves to the bottom of a lake. They were there. In Heatherglen. With another lioness.

  “Well, hurry it up!” he ordered and swung an arm in a big circle like he was scooping her along. “We still have a long drive back.”

  Kyla shot a glance behind her. Could she make it before he caught up to her? Would he snap her neck for disobeying if she ran?

  She dragged her foot back a single step. His eyes narrowed on the movement. “But… the ice…”

  He spat on the ground. “Fuck it. Leave it there. Let them panic a hot minute when you don’t come running back. Serves ‘em right letting a pretty thing like you out of their sight.”

  The choice was taken from her the moment a van pulled to a stop right behind her. The lion changed directions and marched for her, wrapping a hand around her upper arm the moment he got close.

  “You got the order right this time, dickweasel?” he taunted through the open window. The driver inside threw a fry at him as he passed.

  Kyla shot another glance down the row of doors and prayed for someone, anyone, to poke their head outside.

  “In you go,” the lion said, cracking open a door and ushering her inside.

  The door closing felt like a shot to the chest.

  Fear clawed at her throat and tried to work its way out on a scream. Kyla bit down on her cheeks hard enough to draw blood, but that didn’t stop the black closing in on the edges of her vision.

  She'd lost. She was being driven back into captivity. Roland would either kill her for escaping or sentence her to another kind of death by handing her to a mate she didn't choose.

  The creature in her middle let off a horrible whimper of pain and sank down deep, deep in her mind. Kyla’s heart broke into a thousand shards.

  This would break Lindley.

  Down to the bottom of her soul, she knew he wouldn’t survive the blow so soon after finding his way to a shaky standstill. He’d lost his sister. He’d opened the wound of losing his mother. His father loomed large and cackling over all the terrible parts of his life. She hated, hated, that she’d have any part in what spiraled him out of control.

  Lindley had given her a taste of what life was like with a mate who cared about her. He’d shown her what a good life was with a good pride around her. She didn’t want to lose the brawls and curses that broke up their days.

  She didn’t want to lose him.

  No.

  Her inner lioness pushed off her belly, tail lashing from side to side. Grim determination took hold in her heart and shoved aside all the choking panic that clouded her head.

  She wouldn’t scream.

  She wouldn’t be afraid.

  She’d keep moving and get the hell back to Lindley.

  Chapter 23

  Lindley woke to a hand on his shoulder. He cracked his eyes slowly, then cranked them open when the grainy sight of Trent filled his vision. “What happened? What’s wrong?” he demanded, sitting up in an empty bed.

  Wait. Fuck.

  He landed a hand on the too-flat blankets on his other side. No residual warmth remained where Kyla had been stretched out when he finally fell asleep.

  “Kyla’s gone,” Trent said grimly.

  “Gone? The fuck are you talking
about?” Lindley launched out of bed and hauled himself into the clothes Kyla had packed for him. Dread fisted his heart as he glared at his alpha.

  Trent pressed his lips together. “She slipped out to get ice from the machine for Dash’s leg. Two minutes, Lin, tops, and she disappeared.”

  Lindley slammed his eyes shut and breathed through the wave of nausea and despair that made him want to hurl. He landed on the other side, furious at the loss. His mate was gone. Missing. Vanished.

  “Show me,” he ground out.

  He stayed right on Trent’s heels. Out the door. Down the side of the building. Kyla’s scent was still fresh. He could practically see her gliding down the walkway like some ghost.

  His lion snarled. Not a ghost. She wasn’t dead. They could still get her back. Would get her back.

  And make those who took her pay.

  Trent turned into the corridor leading through the belly of the building. Vending machines filled the air with an electric buzz. A handful of ice cubes were scattered over the concrete, still as solid as when they fell out of the ice machine.

  Lindley stepped closer, feeling a punch to the gut. Kyla had stood there, in that exact spot.

  “And the one who took her?” he asked in a tight voice.

  The scent was just as strong. Baked earth of a lion, tobacco of a smoker.

  “He came from the other side of the building, but took her back through the way we came.” Trent sidestepped to make room for him leaving the corridor for the parking lot. “The trail ends there, likely where she was picked up.”

  Lindley stared toward the empty road, chest empty, mind blank, no fucking clue what to do next. He’d promised to keep her safe and she’d wound up in the exact place she wanted to avoid.

  He’d failed her.

  Your ruin is coming, son of mine.

  Yeah, it’d fucking arrived.

  Lindley’s lips peeled back in a silent snarl. If he’d just kept to two feet back on the ranch, if he hadn’t rushed into hotheaded action, Kyla would be safe and sound in his den. Instead, he’d been goaded into running off like a madman and lost his mate.