Turned by a Tiger
Felicity Heaton
Turned by a Tiger
On the verge of bleeding out and hunted by his merciless torturers, Talon has no choice but to seek sanctuary at Underworld, a nightclub run by a jaguar shifter liable to kill him on sight for being a tiger shifter male. What he finds in the old warehouse isn’t the grim shadow of Death though but an angel of mercy, one who offers him salvation and revenge—one who happens to be his fated mate.
Tending bar at Underworld is never dull when you’re a mortal surrounded by immortals, but when a gorgeous tiger shifter covered in blood stumbles into the club, and set’s fire to her boss’s temper, Sherry’s entire world is in danger of being turned on its head. Something about the mysterious warrior has her stepping in to save him, something that ignites her heart and stirs her soul, and no matter how fiercely she fights it, she can’t hold herself back.
When Talon reveals the name of his captors, and his plan to head back in to save his friends, will Sherry be brave enough to embrace the feelings he stirs in her and step deeper into the world of immortals? And will Talon be strong enough to resist the lure of Sherry to protect his family’s secret or will he risk everything to claim his eternal mate?
OTHER PARANORMAL ROMANCE BOOKS BY FELICITY HEATON
Stories in the Eternal Mates romance series
Book 1: Kissed by a Dark Prince
Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King
Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar
Book 5: Craved by an Alpha
Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat
Book 7: Taken by a Dragon
Book 8: Marked by an Assassin
Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior
Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness
Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death
Book 12: Turned by a Tiger
Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger - Coming Summer 2017
Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger - Coming Summer 2017
Book 15: Unchained by a Forbidden Love - Coming in 2017
Stories in the Guardians of Hades romance series
Book 1: Ares
Book 2: Valen
Book 3: Esher - Coming in 2017
Stories in the Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series
Book 1: Covet
Book 2: Crave
Book 3: Seduce
Book 4: Enslave
Book 5: Bewitch
Book 6: Unleash
Stories in the Her Angel romance series
Book 1: Her Dark Angel
Book 2: Her Fallen Angel
Book 3: Her Warrior Angel
Book 4: Her Guardian Angel
Book 5: Her Demonic Angel
Book 6: Her Wicked Angel
Book 7: Her Avenging Angel
Book 8: Her Sinful Angel
Stories in the Vampires Realm romance series
Book 1: Prophecy: Child of Light
Book 2: Prophecy: Caelestis & Aurorea
Book 3: Prophecy: Dark Moon Rising
Book 3.1: Spellbound
Book 3.5: Reunion
Book 4: Seventh Circle
Book 5: Winter's Kiss
Book 6: Hunter's Moon
Book 7: Masquerade
Book 8: Hunger
Books 1-3 are also available in one anthology ebook: Prophecy Trilogy
Stories in the In Heat romance series
Book 1: In Heat
Book 2: In Heat: Mating Call
Discover more available paranormal romance books at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk
Or sign up to Felicity's mailing list to learn about new titles, be eligible for special subscriber-only giveaways, and read exclusive content: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/newsletter.php
TABLE OF CONTENTS
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
Tamed by a Tiger - Preview
About the Author
Paranormal Romance Books by Felicity Heaton
Copyright
CHAPTER 1
“Shit.”
Talon’s knees hit the tarmac with a bone-crunching jolt and he sagged forwards, breath sawing from his lips as he fought to remain conscious and drive the pain back as it swarmed him, threatening to drag him into the waiting darkness. He couldn’t pass out here. They would find him.
He wearily lifted his head and growled low in his throat at the effort it took to do such a simple thing now. Not good.
He gazed down at his lap and then his trembling left hand as he pulled it away from his bare stomach. His hand wobbled and blurred, and he blinked hard, fighting to clear his vision and refusing to let the pain ricocheting through him, a bone-deep savage onslaught that wouldn’t abate, overcome him. The streetlight off to his right caught the thick layer of blood on his hand and turned it black and shiny.
“Fuck,” he growled through clenched teeth and tears stung his eyes.
He forced his right hand up and scrubbed it across his face, rubbing them away.
No damn way he was going to cry, no matter how dire things looked.
He wouldn’t give up.
He pressed his damp right hand into the gritty road and pushed himself onto his feet. Lightning flash through him, fire licking along the length of the wound across his stomach, and he gritted his teeth so hard they creaked, but he kept going, kept pushing, kept refusing to just lie down and die.
Death would be a mercy, one that probably wouldn’t find him before the bastards hunting him did.
Talon staggered onto his bare feet, stumbled a few steps and grunted as his right shoulder smashed into the wall that lined the narrow alley.
Awareness prickled down his spine and he looked over his left shoulder, his long beard scraping his skin and his shaggy black hair falling to obscure his eyes. He didn’t have the strength to push it out of his face.
Or the time.
They were coming.
Closing in now.
Dammit.
He had to keep moving. He was close.
The world wobbled around him, losing colour at times, as he stumbled forwards, clutching his stomach with his left hand and wincing with each laboured step. That damned lightning and fire zapped and danced through him with each shift of his body that disturbed the worst of his injuries, forcing him to breathe shallowly in an effort to keep it at bay.
Gods-fucking-dammit.
It wasn’t going to end here.
His right ankle gave out and the tarmac loomed in his vision again, but this time he managed to catch himself at the last moment.
Would’ve been a triumph if he hadn’t face-planted into a brick wall instead.
He rested against it, giving himself a moment, aware that if he kept pushing this hard he was going to pass out and that would land him back in their hands.
That prickling sensation came again, warning him they were narrowing the search, growing closer with every moment he stood still. He had to keep moving, even if it was only inches at a time. He leaned against the wall, using it for support and clawing his way along it with his right hand, his fingertips aching as he dragged his weight.
His muscles trembled beneath his skin, on the verge of going liquid as his strength drained away.
Another sensation joined the first.
One of dread that hounded him as he pulled himself forwards with dogged determination.<
br />
There were more than night shadows behind him.
There was death.
It was stalking him like the hunters, waiting for that moment when he gave in.
Never.
Talon ground his teeth and staggered forwards, calling on all of his strength and refusing to give up. He hadn’t given up when the hunters had caught him. He hadn’t given up all the times they had demanded he shift into his tiger form and then tortured him with cattle prods to force him to turn back. He hadn’t given up when they had left him naked and bleeding in that infernal cage or all the times they had dragged him back to his cell, letting their other captives witness him at his weakest.
He would never give up.
He kept inching forwards, the pain mounting inside him stealing his breath as it reached a new crescendo and fresh warmth spilled across his left hand, his life draining from him. Couldn’t give up. Wouldn’t.
Talon growled and pushed onwards, near-blind as fire blazed inside him, devouring his strength and setting every nerve in his body alight. Instinct drove and guided him, a deep desire to survive that lived within all feline shifter species, as strong and undeniable as the need to defend their territory.
Something he was deeply aware of as he finally reached the end of the alley and his destination.
He stared across the narrow road to the red-brick warehouse.
He shouldn’t be here, but he was desperate, had nowhere else to go and no hope of surviving if he couldn’t convince the shifter who owned the building to give him sanctuary.
The chance of that happening was slim, about as slender as him surviving the night.
But he had to risk it.
Underworld was his only hope now.
He checked the silent street in both directions, studying the shadows to make sure he wasn’t being watched, and then limped across it to the other side, slumped against the wall and clawed himself forwards, towards the broad door beneath the unlit neon sign.
The scent of shifter hit him hard, flowing from a torn up piece of wood beside the door, the owner’s calling card and a message to other male cat shifters in their prime.
A warning to stay away.
He couldn’t.
He reached the door and rested, breathing hard and fighting the nerves rising inside him to mingle with the pain. His limited senses stretched around him, ears pricking as he listened for a sign of life—both inside the building and outside it with him. There was no one in the streets around him, but inside were two heartbeats, not far on the other side of the door.
Talon pulled his hand away from his stomach and banged his fist on the door.
It swung open the moment he made contact and he lost balance, falling inside to land in a heap on the floor.
“We’re closed,” a deep gruff male voice called from the darkness. “I thought you’d locked up?”
Talon ignored the male and crawled forwards, dragging himself with both hands now, desperation driving him and urging him onwards, into the gloom. He growled. He was moving too slowly, the distance between him and the door not growing quickly enough. He needed to go faster.
Pain shot through him, his ears ringing with it and heart labouring in response, and he clutched his stomach with his left hand again, grunting as he fought it. When it eased, he pushed up on his right hand and shuffled forwards, holding his stomach with his other hand. The scent of his own blood filled his nostrils and his vision wobbled again.
Dammit.
He pressed harder with his left hand, trying to stem the bleeding. It wasn’t slowing.
Silence fell like a thick shroud.
Eyes landed on him, intent and focused.
The air shifted and a growl echoed through the enormous room, unholy and vicious.
A warning he felt all the way down to his bones.
To his soul.
His hope ended here.
The shifter was going to kill him.
CHAPTER 2
Sherry’s bottom hit the top of the low wine refrigerator as Kyter suddenly vaulted the black bar that ran almost the entire length of one wall of Underworld. She quickly set down the cloth she had been using to dry the last of the glasses and rushed forwards, running down the narrow walkway behind the bar and reaching the end just as Kyter hauled the stranger off his knees and onto his feet, and landed a hard right hook across his jaw.
The big guy growled through the thick black beard covering the lower half of his face and hit the wall close to her, slid down it and landed on his butt on the tacky floor.
“Kyter,” Sherry snapped, but her boss wasn’t listening.
His eyes glowed golden in the low light as he stalked towards the man, muscles tense beneath his white dress shirt, coiled in readiness.
She looked down at the newcomer.
The poor bastard wasn’t in any shape to fight, had shocked her when she had seen him dragging himself into the club. At first, she had figured him for a local homeless drunk, with his wild shaggy black hair that brushed his nape, ragged thick beard, and his lack of clothes, but the way her boss had reacted told her he was something else.
Another cat shifter.
Kyter often lost his shit when male shifters came into the club unannounced and uninvited.
Apparently it was a territory thing.
Sherry didn’t think this man was here to fight Kyter for his perceived territory though.
Blood covered his bare chest, outlining some of the hard compact muscles and concealing the rest. It drenched his left arm from the elbow down too, and had stuck his loose black cotton trousers to his left thigh.
The man lifted amber eyes to lock with Kyter’s golden ones and bared his fangs on a snarl.
Kyter didn’t back off.
He grabbed the man by his throat, pulled him up the wall and punched him again, bristling with aggression as he growled right in the man’s face and bared his own emerging fangs.
“Kyter!” She would keep shouting his damned name until she got through to him or her voice gave out. “Kyter!”
He still refused to heed her and she flinched as he went to town on the poor bastard, hitting him with a low blow to his stomach that had fresh blood rolling down his hip and a pained growl leaving his lips. The man sagged but Kyter held him up, shoved harder against his throat.
Something inside Sherry snapped, and she lifted the section of bar in front of her, driven to intervene, but stopped dead when the injured man roared.
A wave of prickles rushed down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as her heart thundered in response to that feral and wild sound.
In a move she couldn’t track, he launched Kyter across the room, sending her boss slamming into the wall. Kyter hit the deck but was on his feet a heartbeat later, launching back at the newcomer.
What had him so damned intent on killing the bastard?
Was the man a jaguar too?
Normally when Kyter got pissy because another cat shifter had come into the club, he managed to hold himself together and keep his irritation to a series of low growls and death glares, and the odd kicking out.
There had been one time when he had really lost his shit though, had ended up in a brawl that had emptied the busy club.
That time, it had been a fellow jaguar that had rolled in.
The injured man caught Kyter as he tackled him and wrestled with him, his muscles bunching and bulging as he strained against Kyter and fought to subdue him. A low growl curled from his lips as he got the upper hand.
Kyter snarled right back and pushed harder, managed to twist his right arm free and smash his fist into the man’s face.
The man staggered towards Sherry, going down the whole time, and she flinched as his face smacked off the end of the bar and he ended up in a tangled heap on the floor, his left arm hooked through the legs of one of the bar stools.
Kyter was on him in the blink of an eye, pounding his chest and face with hard blows. The man roared and bucked up, closed hi
s fist around the stool and swung it at Kyter’s head.
Her boss grunted as it impacted, fell to his left and rolled onto his feet. Blood trickled down from a gash above his right eyebrow, dripping into his eye and onto his cheek. He growled and swiped his hand across it, and was on the other man before she could even attempt to track his movements.
The man flew past her and crashed into the wall just ten foot from her, leaving a huge dent in the black plaster. He landed on his face and lay there, so still she was sure he was dead.
Kyter prowled towards him, clearly convinced that he wasn’t and determined to finish him off.
He had to be another jaguar.
The man twitched and then he was gone, leaped clear just as Kyter landed where he had been.
Her gaze zipped to the man and her blue eyes widened as beautiful amber fur striped with thick black bands rippled over his bare chest and down his arms.
Not a jaguar.
A tiger.
He growled, bearing huge canines.
Kyter twisted and leaped again, springing across the gap to land on the man’s chest. The man caught him and they went down hard in a tangle of limbs. She winced again as Kyter managed to get on top and landed a solid left hook that snapped the tiger’s head around and made his teeth clack together so hard she heard them.
The big tiger snarled and shook his head, and she had the terrible feeling that he was going to pass out.
Or die.
She couldn’t let him die.
That sensation went through her like a thunderclap, lighting her up inside with a weird sort of energy, a need that drove her to obey it.
Tiger rolled and got the upper hand on Kyter for all of a second.
Her boss pressed his feet into the man’s stomach and kicked, sending him sailing through the air again. She squeezed her eyes shut as he hit the bar, bending backwards over it, and barked out a pained whimper before collapsing on the floor and scattering several bar stools.
Kyter dragged a hand over his wild sandy hair and advanced.
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