A Kitty in the Lion's Den

by A Kitty in the Lion's Den [Evernight] (mobi)

  Mine. She is all mine, and I want her now.

  He felt the intensity of knowing she was his mate, but he was better at controlling himself than the animal he housed. It was his lion roaring out those words in his head, pounding them inside of him over and over again. The lion tried with desperation to be released. It clawed and snapped to be released and claim its mate, but Maverick was just as strong as the fucker, knew that if he let the beast out destruction would follow, and he wasn’t about to put his mate, or anyone else for that matter, at risk. Slowly he lifted her head, and when her hazel eyes, ones that were far more green than brown, met his everything inside of him momentarily froze. Her eyes were wide, and her breathing kicked into overdrive. She was a Pallas’s cat shifter, his mate, and staring at him like she was scared as fuck to be in his presence. Any other time he would have agreed that she should have been running in the other direction, especially when his lion was so close to the surface, threatening to break free, but this wasn’t one of those times. She was his mate. His. She had nothing to fear from him, but everything to fear from his lion, because that motherfucker wanted out, and it wanted her. It wouldn’t be gentle and soft. It would take her the way it wanted: rough, raw, and unforgiving until neither of them could walk afterwards.

  Maverick inhaled deeply, and a low growl left him. Yeah, she was fucking his, but that wasn’t the only thing he scented. He should have picked up the smell instantly, but the fact of the matter was his senses had been clouded when he realized she was all his. The very light scent of Viktor Milokov surrounded her, but it wasn’t for any other reason than because they shared the same blood. Maverick kept hold of her arms and looked around. She seemed to be alone, and he couldn’t detect any other malicious presence close by. He pushed her into the motel and then into the room he’d just left and closed the door silently. At least she hadn’t fought him, but she would have lost regardless. Once inside the darkened room he smelled her fear peak and intensify. With her being a shifter she knew who and what he was to her, that she was his mate and that also meant he wouldn’t be letting her go, no matter who her father was. Fuck. But that didn’t make his anger that she was here, that she had found him, any less momentous.

  “Who sent you?” He kept his voice low and didn’t hold off on the growl that was laced within the words. Despite the darkened room he saw her perfectly. Her eyes widened further, and she took a step back. What confused him was why she was so frightened if Viktor had sent her, which he clearly had, because the chances that she just happened to stumble upon him were slim to none. But Maverick had known this day was inevitable. The logical explanation was that she was bait, and that they had somehow, against all odds, realized what she was to him and planned on using her against him. It was a pretty fucking farfetched reason, but when it came to the Milokov crime family, he didn’t put anything past them. He may have just found her, only spent a few moments in her presence, but that didn’t make his need to protect her or keep her close to him any less intense. It didn’t matter if this was all staged, or if she was part of some conspiracy because her father knew he was still alive. This little Pallas’s cat was his, and no one would change that.

  “W-what?” She stuttered out that word, and he knitted his brow. She could try to act coy, play games, and lie to him, but when he inhaled deeply he knew she was doing none of those. He was a shifter and could tell things by scent, sight, and instinct alone, but the type of breed he was, more animal than human, had his senses far more advanced, precise, and sharp. He could tell that his question had come as a surprise to her. When he didn’t answer her she spoke again. “No one sent me.” Her voice was low, and the aroma of hyacinth filled the room.

  “No?” He crossed his arms over his chest, made no move to take a step toward her, yet she backed away because he obviously terrified her. She was smart, had no doubt sensed his feral lion, and was trying to think of a way to escape, but there was none. He blocked the door and had no intentions of letting her out of his sight anyway. “You know what you are to me, yeah?” He heard her swallow, watched the delicate line of her throat move from of the act, and saw her nod. “Then you also know I won’t let you go.” She clenched her hands in front of her, but he saw the way she looked around the room in a frantic notion.

  “You don’t understand.” She licked her lips, and Maverick was mesmerized by the sight. “You can’t keep me here. I have to go, keep moving, or—”

  “Or?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You stink of Viktor Milokov.” Her eyes widened even further.

  “What?” That one word was whispered so low that if he hadn’t been a shifter with his heightened senses he wouldn’t have heard it. “How do you know of him?”

  She was not just a blood relative of the bastard he had gotten away from, but his fucking daughter. Their scents were so closely matched that it was undeniable. But where Viktor reeked of death and vileness, this female smelled sweet and floral, and he hated to admit it, but he grew even harder because of it. He shouldn’t want her, especially because she was Viktor’s daughter. He hadn’t ever seen her while working for the bastard, but wouldn’t have gone near her regardless. But fuck, he had no choice now, because letting her go was not an option.

  “How I know of him doesn’t matter. Why are you here?” She may not know that he had been the male to carry out her father’s hits, and the one who had taken more lives than he cared to admit out loud, but that didn’t mean if she was caught Viktor’s men wouldn’t be able to scent him on her. Maverick was tired of death, tired of waking up from the nightmares and having sweat coat him. Had he really been stupid enough to think he could come out of this whole in some form? He was too damn old for this shit and just wanted a fucking moment of peace. He hadn’t truly gotten peace in the last six years, not when blood filled his dreams like a gushing river. But then this female had come along, all curves and smelling sweet as fuck, and all he had to do was look at her and it was like nothing else mattered. Keeping his back to the door, he took his left arm and reached across his chest to peel the curtain aside and look outside. There was no movement that he could detect, but still he didn’t lower his defenses. Maverick slid his eyes toward her again. “You need to start talking.” She licked her lips again, and he had to hold in the deep growl that would have left him at the sight of her small pink tongue sliding along her plump bottom lip.

  “About what?”

  He did growl then, but this time it was from annoyance and not because she looked so damn good.

  “Don’t fucking play games. Let’s start with who you are.”

  She breathed out, rubbed her finger between her eyes, and then eyed the bed. “Can I sit down? It seems like we might be here a while.” He tilted his chin toward the bed. When she was seated on the edge of the mattress with her purse in her lap, she looked over at him. “First, you know who I am, so I’m not sure why you even asked that.” Huh, his mate had a bit of a bite in her. Yeah, he knew who she was, but he wanted her to tell him, wanted her to know that keeping anything from him was not going to happen. She sighed heavily, looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and then finally looked back to him. “I don’t want to drag you into my mess, and if I start talking that is exactly what will happen.”

  His mate was causing all sorts of emotions to move through him a turbulent wave. Annoyance, arousal, frustration, and the need to rip her clothes off, sink his canines into her, and leave his mark on her body. He didn’t answer, just waited with barely restrained impatience for her to continue. He felt her walls break down with each passing second, and the scent of her tears forming filled the room like a fresh rainstorm. Chest clenching painfully for the first time in his miserable existence, Maverick refused to show any emotion, because hell, he had never done so before.

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t try and protect you.” For a second Maverick couldn’t breathe, let alone move, as her words speared him. She was trying to protect him? Before he could really contemplate that she started talking. “I’
m trying to disappear, because if my father finds me I know my life will be over, and I don’t mean in the figurative sense.” Maverick watched her for a moment before pushing away from the door and moving closer to her. Despite the fact she was his mate and had nothing to fear from him, she scooted back to the other side of the bed.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” He kept his voice low and nonthreatening. He took a seat in the chair that sat across from the bed and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Viktor Milokov is your father.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, but she nodded regardless. “And what you’re saying is you ran from him?” She nodded again, and he scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Did he hurt you? Is that why you left?” A fierce rage started burn deep inside of him at that thought. She slowly shook her head, and he breathed out. Fuck, this female was going to have him crazy protective before they even left the room. “What’s your name?” It took her a moment to answer, and the scent of her wariness was strong. “I’m the last person you have to fear.”

  “Kettah.”

  He rolled the name around in his head. He liked it, a whole fucking lot. “So then if Viktor didn’t hurt you why are you running?” Of course there were a plethora of reasons why she could have left: drugs, prostitution, trafficking.

  “How do you know my father exactly?”

  A low growl left him, and not because his mate asked him how he knew that bastard, but because just knowing that motherfucker was related to her, and had forced her to fear him and run, caused all kinds of violent things to churn inside of Maverick.

  “We’ll get to that later.” No, they wouldn’t, because he had no intentions of telling her who and what he was, not if he could help it. It was safer that way, safer for her, and he could die happy if she never fucking found out that he had killed countless motherfuckers. “Tell me everything, Kettah. That is the only way I can keep you safe.” The hesitation was strong inside of her, but she was smart to wonder if this was safe, even if he told her otherwise. Her fear was holding her back. He needed to ease her worry. “Listen, if I worked for your father and wanted to kill you, I would have taken care of it before you even scented me.” Shit, he really hadn’t meant to say that, because that would have all sorts of things wandering through her head. “And if I had intentions of taking you back there, would I have taken you into his room to talk to me?” The hesitation slowly waned, and she shook her head.

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Now, all I’ll tell you about myself is that my name is Maverick Storm, and that your father and I have a past, one I will never share with you because that would cause more harm than good. But you have nothing to fear from me, and if you want my help then you need to trust me.” Maverick knew he was asking her a hell of a lot, especially since she didn’t know shit about him, and her inner cat was on high alert. “Okay?”

  She nodded slowly and looked down at her hands that were entwined tightly together in her lap.

  “I can’t go back there, and will die first before that happens.” Strength laced her words. Pride filled him that his mate was so strong and determined, but she knew how her father was, how men in that organization worked, and she should also know she could not do this alone. Maybe he would have helped her if they weren’t mates, or maybe he wouldn’t have. But none of that mattered since she was his. Could he let her go when this was all said and done and he knew for a fucking fact she was safe? That was the question of the century.

  Chapter Four

  Her mate.

  It was insane, strange, and did not help her plans in trying to disappear. Kettah stared at the lion shifter in front of her. Even though no lights were on, she could see how large he was, easily over six and a half feet tall. And he was muscular, in fact the most muscular male she had seen. And that was saying something since her father had large and powerful men working for him. His hair was short and as dark as midnight, blending in with the shadows like spilled ink. And his eyes, God, his eyes were just as deep, black and bottomless. His clothes were dark, as if he were trying to blend into the night. But that didn’t come as a shock to her. He seemed lethal in every conceivable way, deadly without even lifting a finger, and this was the lion shifter she had been destined to mate with.

  She had never seen him, knew nothing about him aside from the fact he loathed her father, and still wasn’t sure if she should reveal anything. The scent of his hatred for Viktor was intense and suffocating, and so she knew at least he wasn’t lying about that. In reality Kettah hoped she could escape for good, but logically she knew that wasn’t a possibility, at least on her own. She only had a few hundred dollars in her purse, and hadn’t dared take more for fear of causing suspicion. Her ultimate plan: take a bus as far as she could go, and wherever she ended or when her money ran out, well then that was that. Not really the smartest or most thought at plan, but she had just done it and stopped thinking of it. So, taking a deep breath, Kettah told him why she had run and hoped that this male, her mate, could help her.

  “I am supposed to marry Marlon Ungaro.” She saw the way he tensed, and didn’t know if it was because he knew the name, or because his mate was to marry another male. The fact was that they didn’t know jack about each other, but they were bound by this chemical and physical reaction, like a wire pulling them closer together until they were one. This was how mates worked, and that was why it was impossible to leave one when they were found. But Kettah didn’t need nor want a mate, and had no intentions of staying with this lion after she was finally free of her father’s hold. He was too wild, untamed, and far too potent for her. He was also dangerous, and that scent of feral violence that she sensed inside of him had her cat backing away in apprehension, but also purring in appreciation. He was all male, and she knew he could protect her if need be, but she didn’t want that. All Kettah wanted was to be a nobody, live a boring life, and never have to think of all the things she had been forced to see living with the shifter mafia.

  He stayed silent, and as nerve-wracking and uncomfortable as that was, she pressed forward, hoping to strike his need to empathize with her, if he even could find that emotion inside of himself. “But that isn’t the only reason I left, although it is a large one.” He had to know the business her father was in. Anyone that knew Viktor Milokov knew of his power.

  “Look at me.”

  His voice was soft but hard, and she couldn’t help but obey him. Kettah always thought of herself as an independent soul, but being around this male, one that was so masculine it sent all kinds of tingly feelings through her, had her acting like some kind meek female. He is your mate, and you have to remember these feelings aren’t really yours, but some screwed up thing fate decreed. You don’t have any control over how you feel toward him, not really. But even though she thought of that, Kettah knew that wasn’t totally the truth.

  He held her stare for a moment. “You are safe. Do you understand me? Pushing aside the fact you are my mate and I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, there is nothing that you need to fear from me. I’ll tell you that over and over again until that thought never crosses your mind again, Kettah. Do you understand me?” That was one of the blessings of being a shifter: being able to scent people’s true intentions, and whether they were lying. This male meant good, toward her at least, and he wasn’t lying about her being safe around him. How had this even happened though? What were the odds of literally running into her mate when she needed him the most? Fate was a fucked-up thing, but right now she couldn’t be more grateful for how things were playing out. She would take this offering, and pray to whoever was listening that it would help her survive.

  “Okay.” He didn’t smile when she conceded, just nodded as if there hadn’t been any other alternative, and maybe there never was. He gestured for her to continue. “So, you won’t tell me how you know my father?” He shook his head, and the rage that came from him at the mention of Viktor would have had her falling on her ass form the intensity of it. Thoughts of why he knew Viktor played throu
gh her head. The way he held himself, the power that came from him, and the fact there was this potent and deadly air to him, told Kettah that there was a hell of a lot more below the surface of this lion than she could ever comprehend. Without realizing that she was speaking her thoughts she said, “What are you?” Snapping her mouth shut once she realized she had not filtered her thoughts, heat filled her face. He didn’t move, didn’t change his facial expression, and that in itself was frightening as hell.

  “What am I?” He said those three words low and deep, and a shiver went up her spine. “I’ll tell you what I am, Kettah. I’m the type of male that men like your father hire to kill others.” The sound of him snapping his jaw and the hard look that crossed his face, told her that he hadn’t meant to say any of that. He leaned forward, rested his forearms on his thighs, and stared at her right in the eyes. “You know what kind of male your father is, Kettah.” He didn’t phrase it like a question, and it was as if he was trying to reinforce how dangerous this situation truly was, and that she needed to put all of her trust into him if she hoped to survive this.

  “I know what I’m up against.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “Do you?” He gave her a minute to process that two worded question. “I don’t think you really do. I think you only know what is on the surface. I think your knowledge is only a scratch on what really is going down.” He may be right, but none of that mattered right now. “You are up against hell on Earth, Kitten. You are up against males that sell drugs to teenagers, auction off females to the highest bidders, and abuse women when they don’t beg and cry hard enough as they rape them.”