Leap of the Lion

by Cherise Sinclair

  Both males were purring.

  So was she.

  Fingers curved unyieldingly around her hips, Owen penetrated her, withdrew, and continued, slowly, relentlessly increasing the speed.

  Stone by stone, her need built to a mountain in her body.

  Then Gawain made a low sound and twisted her hair around his hand to hold her still. “Give us a second, brawd.” His voice was hoarse.

  Owen paused.

  “Sweetling, if you continue, I’ll fill your mouth with my seed.” Gawain’s heated gaze met hers, giving her time to object.

  Oh yes. She wiggled her delight and nodded.

  Gawain’s eyes lit, and as he tugged her head down, he pumped in and out of her mouth in short fast strokes. As Owen held her hips still, Gawain’s cock hardened, thickened. She heard a rumbling groan of pleasure, and then his shaft was jerking in her mouth. The taste was intense, salty and musky, and she swallowed it down.

  The grip on her hair loosened, and he stroked her head gently.

  Lifting her head, she used her tongue to capture the last drops and lick him clean. “Mmm.”

  His eyes were half-lidded and satisfied. “Thank you, pretty panther.” He guided her head down so she could rest her cheek on his flat belly. Closing his hands on her shoulders, he said, “Go, brawd.”

  Owen chuckled and lifted her hips higher for still greater penetration. He pulled out, sank in, and slowly, steadily increased the pace.

  As the driving rhythm set up a merciless throbbing, she clenched around him. She wanted more. Wanted to rock back and forth, but he gripped her hips, and Gawain held her shoulders. As the exquisite torment grew, she could do nothing but moan.

  Leaning forward, Owen bit the nape of her neck, holding her lightly with his teeth. His hand reached between them down to her clit. His finger slid roughly over the sensitive nub with each plunge of his cock.

  Everything faded except his thrusts and his finger on her clit. Every stroke and thrust increased the pleasure until she hovered at the heights of the most devastating sensation she’d ever known.

  Then, he somehow rotated his hips, and his shaft struck a new place inside her. His ruthless finger pressed on her clit.

  Everything within her stopped—even the planet came to a halt, then her world erupted into great, glorious spasms of pleasure, exploding outward until the very sky seemed filled with stars and the earth itself disappeared from under her.

  As her core spasmed around the hard shaft, Owen pressed deep, deeper, and she could feel him inside her, filling her with his seed.

  In the high mountain valley, the air was chill, yet the sun beat warmly against Owen’s skin. Sound asleep, Darcy lay with her head on his brother’s shoulder, pressed against his side, her breathing deep and slow. Cupping Darcy’s soft breast in one hand, Owen was curled behind her. He propped his head up on his free hand and drank in the moment. Each breath brought him the fragrance of sex, of this little female, of his littermate, mingling in a way that sent an ache through him. This was why a male lived. Why he fought. To win a female’s love and keep her safe.

  For this female—for Darcy—he would willingly fight the entire world.

  As he looked at Gawain, his contentment deepened. An arm behind his head, his littermate was watching Darcy, satisfaction almost humming from him.

  They’d not only shared a female for the first time in decades, but that female was Darcy. She’d liked being with them both. Had cried out her pleasure. And snuggled between them with as much trust as an unweaned kitten.

  Had any female ever trusted him so deeply? Had he ever wanted one to?

  But Darcy…she was special. So amazing. He loved her ability to laugh, even at herself. Her courage to stand up to him when he was wrong. Her honesty. Her intelligence. Her loyalty to the people she’d left behind. She would show that same loyalty to her cubs. What a fearsome, amazing mother she would be.

  What a mate.

  But…would she want him? For more than just being God-chosen? Owen wasn’t charming. Wasn’t particularly good-looking, especially with all the scars he’d accrued over the years.

  Then again, Darcy knew him better than any female ever had. She’d seen past the cahir legend to the grumpy, blunt male beneath, and she’d still mated with him when the moon wasn’t full.

  Did she realize he’d give her the same loyalty he wanted from her?

  “I want to keep her,” Owen said, his voice barely audible even to shifter ears. “Make her ours.”

  “Yeah,” Gawain whispered. “We should keep her. She needs us.”

  “Do you think she’d want to…? Does she…? How do we make her want to stay?”

  Gawain’s lips tipped up. “The question she’ll ask, brawd, is if you love her.”

  Darcy was having a happy dream, playing near a lake with two big males. The three of them were chasing each other’s tails, batting at ears with soft paws. Hiding in the grass and playing pounce.

  A hand jostled her. “Darcy.”

  One male caught her between his huge paws and the other leaped over her. So fun. Her heart swelled because these were her lifemates, the ones she’d dreamed of forever.

  Only…they weren’t. These panthers weren’t average-sized and sleek. They were huge.

  She frowned as her shoulder was shook again.

  “Wake up, kitten.”

  There was such a lovely scent around her. Musky male scents were blended with the fragrance of mating. Mating? Her eyes popped open.

  She was lying in the grass on her back. Owen lay beside her.

  On her other side, Gawain had his hand on her shoulder.

  “Ah.” She felt her cheeks heat as her body reported in with the sensitive tingling in her nipples and how swollen her breasts were. There was an aching burn between her legs…and her jaw muscles felt tired. Her gaze dropped to where Gawain’s shaft lay quiet. It was still big, actually.

  Her lips curved. Mating was amazing. Her whole body felt limp and thoroughly satisfied.

  “Darcy.”

  She jerked her gaze up. “Um, yes?”

  Gawain’s cheek creased with his smile. “Time to go. The Cosantir needs to set things into motion, now we know where the shifter-soldiers live.”

  “I’m sorry.” She sat up. What was she thinking to have fallen asleep? “We shouldn’t have—”

  “It was time for a break.” Owen rolled up onto a knee and tucked her hair behind her ear. The tender look in his eyes made her breath catch. “We’ll eat on the run and make this a long day. You’re in better shape, so we should reach the car tomorrow morning.”

  Gawain rose, pulled her easily to her feet, and did the same for his brother. “Grab a drink, rinse off, and we’ll be on our way.”

  Beside her in the cold water, the males washed themselves off. She managed to stifle her squeaks at the icy water as she cleaned up, moved upstream, and drank her fill.

  On the bank, Owen stopped beside her, his expression serious. “While we’re running in animal form, I want you to sink deep into the wild.”

  Let go of control. Apprehension constricted her lungs.

  “We’re your mentors. We won’t let you get so far you can’t return.” Gawain stood beside his brother.

  She shoved the fear down. They were right. Fighting against her animal instincts made her clumsy. She refused to go through life falling off of branches. “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” Owen squeezed her shoulder in approval.

  “We’ll play a game.” Gawain grinned. “Follow-the-alpha. You simply do whatever Owen does.”

  Owen’s smile was almost a smirk. “I’ll be jumping into trees, off boulders, over logs.”

  Oh, goody, her favorite things. Not. “And you’ll be doing all this leaping and jumping, too?” She gave Gawain a skeptical look.

  He only laughed. “Not a chance.”

  Owen turned and jogged toward the forest, shifting into cougar without missing a step.

  Wow. She tried the moving-tr
awsfur—at a fast walk—and her four feet almost tangled into a knot.

  “Sink into the wild, catling. Let go.” Gawain shifted and ran easily beside her.

  At an easy lope, Owen sprang up and into a tree, leaped off the lowest branch, and was back on the trail.

  By the Mother, I can’t do that.

  Yes. She could. She would.

  Darcy shut her mind down and let the cat take over…all the way. She looked at the tree. The branch. Her body tensed, sprang, clawed up and onto the branch, then she was down and running the trail.

  Taking a moment for a happy spin, she flirted with her tail and heard the low chuff of Gawain’s laughter.

  Happily, she darted after Owen.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‡

  The next morning, as the rising sun shone down on the logging road, Gawain rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, then yawned. They were almost at his car.

  Ahead of him, Owen and Darcy were discussing how she could have caught her breakfast quicker. Instincts were good, but knowledge and practice were also needed, which was why cubs got hunting lessons.

  As teens, he and Owen had often been assigned to instruct the newly shifted. Even when young, his littermate had been a fine teacher, although cranky if he thought a youngster wasn’t trying.

  Darcy, though, poured her heart into trying…no matter what she was doing.

  Like last night…

  At dark, despite the chill air, they’d shifted to human long enough to enjoy a hot, fast mating. Gawain smiled slightly, rubbing the scratch marks on his chest. After a day as a panther, Darcy’s instincts had been more animal than human, and she’d clawed him when she peaked. Owen had bite marks on his shoulder.

  Seeing her work afterward, she’d turned a brilliant red.

  Gawain grinned at the memory. By the Mother, he loved her.

  He and Owen had talked over their hopes after she’d fallen asleep. And they’d tried to make plans.

  Gawain shook his head. For decades, he’d made lifemating bracelets for shifters. Shouldn’t he have learned the steps of the relationship dance? Then again, most shifters didn’t choose a female who was ignorant of mating, let alone lifemating.

  “Gawain.” Owen looked back over his shoulder. “Let’s detour long enough to swing by that camp from the highway. We can get the street address for Tynan and Wells.”

  “Aye.”

  An hour later, Gawain could scent the tension in the car as he left Highway 20 and drove down a gravel road. Not much here. A few small farms. A couple of fancier vacation homes.

  “We’re getting close,” Owen said from the back seat. “Darcy, drop to the floor.”

  “What?”

  “They might recognize you.”

  “Oh, right.” She undid her seatbelt and slid down to the floorboard, turning to lay her head on the seat. She’d be invisible to anyone outside.

  A wooden stockade type fence loomed farther down the road.

  “That’s it,” Owen murmured.

  Not slowing the car, Gawain surveyed the property as well as the surroundings. To his surprise, the gate—also wooden planks—stood open. At the front of one of the houses, males were unloading a van. Excitement surged through him.

  “The soldiers are back,” Owen told Darcy.

  “Really? Oh my Gods.” She started to sit up, caught herself, and stayed flat. Her fingers closed in a fist.

  Poor catling. To be so close and not be able to act. Gawain patted her shoulder.

  Owen met Gawain’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Get us out of here.”

  “Aye.” Gawain took the next corner and the next, returning to Highway 20. His jaw clenched as he thought of the floodlights, the high log walls. “Breaking them out of there won’t be easy.”

  “We’ll manage,” Owen said.

  Visibly shaking, Darcy crawled back up to the seat.

  With a sigh, Gawain reached over and captured her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Breathe, sweetling.”

  Her attempted smile almost broke his heart.

  The drive home was mostly silent.

  As they neared Cold Creek, Gawain wasn’t able to take the silence any longer. He squeezed Darcy’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “I hate this. Shifters will have to risk their lives to get the villagers free. But if they do, the Scythe will know there are more shifters. They’ll hunt down anyone who helps—and everyone who gets free.”

  “Let them look.” The snarl from the backseat said Owen looked forward to meeting the Scythe.

  Darcy was still looking out the side window. “My brothers probably know places to hide. We can go—”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Owen snapped.

  “What?” Darcy turned to stare at him.

  Gawain shot his gnome-brained littermate a frown, then recaptured Darcy’s hand. “He means we want you to stay with us. Live with us.”

  Be our lifemate. But it was too soon to say that. Even the love words dancing on his tongue would be premature.

  Her mouth dropped open, and her gaze was…shocked. Fearful. “Stay in Cold Creek? With you?”

  “Aye.” Owen leaned forward and gripped her shoulder. “With us. We want you to stay with us.”

  “No. I can’t.” She shook her head hard. “I’d put you in danger.”

  Gawain winced, not needing to see Owen’s reaction. Talk about insulting a cahir.

  “We can handle danger,” Owen growled.

  “Why can’t you understand? Once my brothers are free, I have to leave. The Scythe will search for all the shifters who escape, and they’ll start with these forests.”

  Owen’s growl deepened. “They won’t find you.”

  “They will.”

  The way Darcy shrank into the seat like a terrified cubling made Gawain want to shred something. Someone. “Darcy…”

  “You don’t know the Scythe,” she whispered. “They’re politicians. Heads of giant companies. Even if we weren’t shifters, they wouldn’t let us be free, not with what we know. They’ll burn the forests to ensure we never talk about them.”

  The certainty in her voice sent a chill through Gawain.

  Like a panicking deer herd, she only saw flight as the answer.

  She was wrong. Descended from the Fae wild hunt shifters, the Daonain had never been prey animals—they were predators.

  Searching for a reasoned answer, Gawain turned onto the road to the lodge. “Your warning means all the Cosantirs will be prepared. We’ll manage whatever comes, Darcy. But we’ll manage better with you beside us.”

  She was shaking her head as he stopped the car in front of the building.

  “I can’t stay. It wouldn’t work.” She jumped out of the car and turned.

  “Darcy,” Owen’s rough voice was gentler than Gawain had ever heard. “Don’t you know how we feel about you?”

  “Don’t.” Her big dark eyes filled with tears. “I have to leave and keep you safe. We can’t… There can’t be more.”

  Pain ripped through Gawain as his hopes began to disintegrate. He held out his hand, willing her to stay. “Catling, we lo—”

  “No.” Her tears spilled over, and she pressed her hand to her mouth. “You mustn’t. Please. There can be nothing between us. Nothing.”

  She slammed the door shut and ran into the lodge as if all the wolves in the forest were snapping at her heels.

  “That…did not go well.” Gawain turned toward his brother and saw his misery. Pity slid into his heart, joining his own pain.

  His littermate had avoided emotional entanglements all of his life. Now, for Darcy, he’d ventured out of his cave, left himself vulnerable—and gotten clawed.

  Life wasn’t fair sometimes.

  “She’s scared, brawd,” Gawain said softly. “For us. For Cold Creek.” To give her space and time, he turned the car around and headed toward their house. “Females aren’t reasonable if afraid someone will get hurt,
and she loves us.” He could feel it from her, like the warmth of the sun.

  At the silence, he checked the rearview mirror.

  Owen stared out the side window, face unreadable.

  Gawain’s chest constricted. His littermate was so fucking unfamiliar with love.

  “I know,” Owen said, finally. “I know she cares about people. About us. It is one of the things I lo…”—he cleared his throat and said even more firmly—“love about her. She has reasons to be afraid.”

  “Aye.” They needed to discuss what to do. But between Gawain’s business and Owen being cahir, they’d never be left undisturbed. “Let’s go up to the lake and think this out. Figure out how to reassure her that everyone will be safe.”

  There was silence from the back.

  Gawain parked and got out.

  Joining him, Owen gripped his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Brawd, if we cannot find a path to safety, if she would feel more secure elsewhere, then…we’ll go too. Our place is with her.”

  Love swelled as Gawain stared at the determination in Owen’s face. “Aye. This is the trail we’re on. We’ll run it together. All of us.”

  *

  When Darcy slipped into the lodge, tears were streaming down her face. At the sound of low voices, she froze and realized the dining area was filled with males, including the Cosantir. They’d see her if she went up the stairs.

  Shay or Zeb would follow her to see what was wrong.

  Hands over her mouth to keep from sobbing aloud, she veered into the library room to the right. There, she curled into a chair and let the tears fall.

  Gawain and Owen wanted her—to stay, to live with them. Oh, if she only could. Love for them pounded through her with each beat of her heart.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she were hugging them close, as she had last night when she’d finally gotten to snuggle, kiss, and touch to her heart’s content. Licking and tasting. Feeling the implacable hands guiding her to please them. Being teased and driven out of her mind until pleasure seared away everything. Being held between their solid male bodies. Hearing Owen’s rough laugh and Gawain’s smooth chuckle.

  She loved them—her Owen, so tall and deadly, and her Gawain as muscular as the biggest mountain lion.