by Nikki Winter
They scattered like mice in a maze, almost trampling one another to get out of the door, and he watched, amused. Turning his head, he found Rave casually leaning up against a wall, studying his nails.
“Was my roar not loud enough for you?”
His second smirked. “You sounded like an angry housecat, so I suppose my answer to that would be no.” He suddenly stopped smiling and looked at Nico with the same expression he always had when trying to point out logical facts. Rave had been Nico’s brother when Alfre deserted him. He’d never questioned Nico’s rule, only followed behind, giving his advice when it was needed and shutting the fuck up when it wasn’t. Rave was like him—he contrived, he planned, and then he conquered. He trusted no one else at his back.
“Kamali holds your interest,” Rave said, straightening. “But your focus should be on other things at the moment. The elders will be asking questions soon about what happened here, what the next step is. You may want to put your energy into that rather than worrying about a cub who hasn’t even cut his first fang yet.”
Nico bit the inside of his cheek. “That cub comes from a line of males that domineered every inch of southern Benin. That cub literally has the blood of a king in his veins. That cub is completely unaware of his value but the moment he is, he will affect many—his mother will affect many. The only reason the elders aren’t at our door right now is because that would push Kamali out of hiding. She can’t ask for help without exposing herself. This gives us the opportunity to get to them first. The boy must be found not because I see him as a threat now, but because he will become one. I would rather risk having to weave lies to cover my sins than having to look over my shoulder for the rest of my rule.” He exhaled and watched the male. “Ask yourself, Rave, how does a tree grow?”
Rave’s head tilted slightly. “From a planted seed.”
Nodding, Nico retook his seat. “Consider me herbicide.”
***
“I need you to do me a favor and not ask too many questions,” Kaisal said the moment his brother answered the phone.
“I am currently nursing several head wounds and attempting to get my ribs back into their correct order due to your previous orders. What do you want?” Naresh retorted.
Kaisal turned his back to Kam and Cal. She was bundling the cub up against his protests and stuffing a cap over hair that he’d clearly inherited from her, while whispering to him in what could only be Yoruba or Igbo. He remembered neither language concisely, being that he hadn’t been to that region of Africa in at least ten years, and hadn’t had to memorize the dialect of the Niger-Congo since then. Either way, there was something about her tone that was soothing, sweet. It reminded him of the same way his mother often still spoke to him in Kannada, the comfort in hearing her language.
As a product of Bangalore, Asha Verochka’s roots to the pride she’d belonged to before mating Kaisal’s father were still strong. As was she. Perhaps that was what captured him about Kam. Her ferocity reminded him of what his own mother had exhibited as a woman being thrust into a new life due to the decisions of her pride, due to the fact she had no control over her own destiny. Because her species had been dying out, she’d been mated off to a male who was, in essence, seen as unstable amongst his own. As her kind began to dissipate, she’d found herself pushed into what was essentially an archaic breeding program for shifters and right into the arms of Taras—who, from what his mother had told him several times, she’d hated on sight.
Kaisal’s father had a reputation for being a ruthless, cold, detached killer who had no room for mercy or grace. Any and all who’d opposed the rule of the Verochka pride had been cut down without a second thought during Taras’ days in Russia.
There were still murmurs of his name amongst their community. He was a strong, proud, dominant male who had completely changed his entire life for Asha, for the chance to have a family. Leaving Russia hadn’t been in Taras’ plans but he’d done it to make her happy; everything he did was to make her happy. Kaisal had never thought he’d get to a point in his life where he’d do that for anyone and yet…
He swallowed. No. There were some things he just didn’t deserve, some things a man couldn’t wipe clean. Kaisal highly doubted Kam had any intention of sticking around longer than a week. She’d be gone and he’d be left with a gaping sadness. This was why he never allowed himself to stay in the presence of what his parents had for too long, fearing it would make him want what he didn’t deserve, fearing it would make him confess the need to know what unconditional love from a mate—a cub of his own—would feel like. There were thoughts he couldn’t dwell on, desires he couldn’t act on. If he marked someone, it wouldn’t be with just his name but his sins. And no one, least of all a lioness who was maneuvering around her own demons, deserved that.
“I need to borrow that cabin a few miles off from where the pride houses are,” Kaisal finally replied to Naresh’s question. “There’s someone who needs a, um…quiet place to stay.” He glanced toward Kam. “And she needs it tonight.”
There was silence before, “So you want to use my cabin to have loud sex?”
He gritted his teeth. “That is not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
“No it’s not what I meant.”
“But you want to use a secluded cabin—for a female guest—away from the rest of the pride…” Naresh slowly stated as though talking to the mentally handicapped. “It sounds as though angry, rather boisterous fucking is about to commence, and I’m going to need you to sign a contract that states whatever you ruin, you replace.”
“Just meet me there so you can open the goddamn place up, dickhead.”
“Are you talking as my pride leader or as my older, slightly unstable older brother?”
“Both.” Kaisal hung up.
When he returned to the table, Cal’s arguments about not being tired had given way to soft snores. Kam rocked him slowly, humming softly as she ran a hand down his back.
“He always fights it,” she whispered. “And he always loses.”
He watched them both, observed the simple connection between a lioness and her offspring. One would think human genes diluted or reduced the animalistic ones. They would be wrong. The human aspects of shifters only seemed to heighten the need to preserve, to safeguard. There was a glint in Kam’s eye that he’d only encountered while in the presence of a parent defending what or whom they loved. That glint left him breathless.
Exhaling, he said, “There are some battles you lose no matter how strong you think you are.” He reached down and adjusted Cal’s hat. “You can only pray that any wounds sustained aren’t fatal.”
When she looked up, their gazes locked, and he found himself running a finger down her cheek. She didn’t move, didn’t even blink. Her breathing halted and so did Kaisal’s. He wanted to ask her if she felt what he did, if she sensed the almost palpable energy thrumming between the touch of his skin to hers. But he didn’t. He pulled back instead.
“That secluded place you mentioned earlier?” Kaisal cleared his throat. “I think I found it.”
***
“Gun in my face! Gun. In. My. Face!”
Kamali’s lip curled up into a snarl as she pushed the barrel of her revolver just beneath the chin of the male before her. The one who had appeared from seemingly thin air as she and Kaisal finally arrived at what he’d said was a secluded safe haven for herself and Callum. At the moment, it didn’t appear to be too secluded.
The second she stepped outside of her SUV, some dipshit tiger who hadn’t been taught to never sneak up on a feline approached her from behind, and she had absolutely no problem slamming him into the side of the vehicle and introducing him to the sensation of cold steel. Too close. He’d gotten too fucking close and she didn’t like it.
“Kam.” Kaisal’s hands eased over her shoulders, his touch gentle, reassuring. “That’s Naresh and he’s here to help.”
“Yeah.” The male panted, nodded. �
�Help. I’m here to help. Like spermicide on condoms.”
She snarled and he quieted, looking over her shoulder.
Kaisal squeezed her shoulders and his scent lulled her slowly out of her irritation. “I promise you. He’s stupid and harmless.”
“Yeah,” Naresh repeated. “Stupid and… Wait a minute, you son of a bitch…”
Reaching around her, Kaisal lowered her hand then wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “You’re tired and jumpy, sweetheart. We’re going to get things set up for you inside so you and Cal can get some rest.”
Somewhere along the way Kamali had lost her goddamned mind. Maybe it happened the second she’d had to kill again to protect Callum. Maybe it was during her reverie at the deli. Maybe it was when Callum had so solemnly stared at her and asked if Kaisal would be coming with them when they left. No matter when or how, she’d lost it. The fact she was standing in the middle of the woods in Colorado, some foreign tiger pressed up against her back, murmuring to her about how safe she was, was simply a testament to that. What was she doing here? Why hadn’t she taken off yet? What was it about Kaisal’s presence that assuaged every anxiety she’d developed since leaving San Antonio?
Kamali didn’t know. She didn’t understand and the confusion was annoying her. She warred with her lioness, trying to compromise, to reason that she didn’t belong here, didn’t belong to him but it wouldn’t listen. Things only seemed to complicate by the second and the longer she remained, the harder it would be to tear herself away. He gave her a reprieve that she hadn’t ever experienced, not even when she’d returned home to her father years ago. This was strange—it was off-putting and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like the emotions he evoked by doing nothing else aside from talking to her son, making him smile, laugh. She didn’t like the fact that he even amused her. And she hated the fact she’d only known him for hours but they felt like years.
“There are some battles you lose no matter how strong you think you are.” Kaisal’s words from earlier had haunted her from the moment she’d started up her SUV and followed him blindly. Because that’s what this was—blind trust.
She dropped her hand and moved away from them both, mumbling, “Sorry.”
Kaisal looked to Naresh. “Go unlock the door.”
The other man blinked. “Have you ever heard of the word ‘please’?”
“Yes,” Kaisal answered. “And if you don’t move I’m going to make sure you say it several times over, accompanied by the words ‘ouch’, ‘no’, ‘that hurts’ and ‘can someone call a medic?’ Door. Open. Now.”
Grumbling, he did as he was told and Kamali got the feeling this was how the majority of their conversations went. Kaisal turned his attention to her, answering her unspoken question. “Younger brother.” Then he opened the rear passenger side door of her vehicle.
She watched as he carefully unbuckled Callum from his booster seat and lifted him out. Kamali expected Kaisal to hand him over but he only motioned toward the cabin with his head, pressing a hand to Callum’s back. “Let me show you the inside.”
Silently, she followed him and wondered when she’d lost control of her life. At some point, she would have to stop underestimating his casual statements about hotels, restaurants, and apparently cabins in the woods. It wasn’t overtly large at only one story, but it was beautifully designed inside and out with three bedrooms, two full baths, and enclosed back deck. It was enough room for her to comfortably move about in but not so spacious that she couldn’t hear a pin drop should she need to.
It was nestled away from prying eyes but close enough to the main road that she could find her way back at any time. Kamali could rest for a few days and be gone without a backwards glance. She had no idea where she was going next but it needed to be a place where she could blend in. This meant she might have to dye her and Callum’s hair, get colored contact lenses for herself, and find understated work as an artist in some backwoods city. All of these were doable. The problem was, her beast seemed to object to departing from a certain tiger who was gazing at her intently from the doorway of what she’d chosen to be her bedroom. She’d rifled through bags until she found pajamas warm enough for Callum, and then she’d done her best to redress him without disturbing his slumber. This wasn’t hard considering the cub could sleep through an apocalypse and only get up to pee.
“Thank you,” Kamali whispered, avoiding Kaisal’s stare. “It shouldn’t take me long to map out a route further upstate and get a plan together to—”
“Stop.”
She froze, her hands clenching around the comforter she was tucking around Callum.
“You leave when you’re safe and not a day, hour, minute, or second before then,” he softly commanded. “And you leave with the option of coming back at any time. No questions, no hesitation. Do we understand one another?”
Kamali nodded, too tired to argue. The appeal of climbing into an actual bed, of eating food that wasn’t mixed with byproducts and substitutes, appealed to her way more than trying to stem Kaisal’s clearly domineering nature. His brother was less pushy, more charming, and had been surprisingly gracious. What was it with their family? Were they used to strays shoving weapons in their faces?
“Good.” His voice was gentle, the rumble making her hands quiver.
She felt a whisper of a touch on the side of her face but when she turned around, he was gone.
By the time she got settled in beside Callum, all Kamali could hear aside from her son’s deep, even breathing was Kaisal’s voice reverberating on the edges of her sluggish mind.
“You can only pray that any wounds sustained aren’t fatal.”
Was that really all she could pray for?
Six
All he’d asked for was peace and quiet. That was all he wanted—his only request. So why was it that as Kaisal sat on his back porch, staring through the copse of trees in his line of sight, he had to hear all that goddamned groaning? Granted, the groaning was his fault, but when he said he wanted peace and quiet, he meant it. Unfortunately, Naresh didn’t seem to get that, which was why he was currently trussed up, covered in bruises, and hanging from a rather sturdy tree branch by his ankles. Every time he moved, the ropes that confined him simply tightened like living vines. Why? Because that was the way Kaisal wanted it, dammit.
“You Boy Scout bastard!”
Taking a slow sip from his coffee mug, Kaisal kept his eyes focused on those trees, watched a small herd of deer traipse through the snow-covered ground and wondered if they would go further, if they’d make their way toward a certain cabin. “Sorry to disappoint you, but we have the same fallen angel to thank for our genetic relation, and I was never in Boy Scouts. It was the nature club.”
“Same difference, asshole.”
He sighed. “Do you plan to continue your whining—which by the way is starting to make my eye twitch and you know what happens when the eye twitching begins—all morning? I’m trying to brood. I can’t brood with the whining.” His brother had thought it a good idea to harass him early in the day concerning things Kaisal didn’t want to talk about; lionesses he didn’t want to talk about. The consequences were swift and brutal.
“You can’t brood if you’re slowly bleeding out in a shallow grave, either!”
Scratching the back of his neck, Kaisal asked, “Are you threatening me?”
“Yes!” Naresh bellowed, swinging back and forth as he wiggled.
“Oh…just checking to make sure.” And with an acute sense of calm, Kaisal went back to his coffee and his brooding. The brooding was important. If he brooded, it kept him focused and away from thinking too hard. It kept him away from allowing his tiger to take over. It kept him away from Kam.
Kam. His beast purred, flashed him a coaxing grin. Ours.
No, Kaisal argued. Not ours.
Yes, his tiger insisted. Ours. The cub too. I like him. He amuses me.
Not talking about this right now. Leave me alone, you pushy bastard.
T
here was a chuff. You can’t fight it forever.
Quiet. Down.
Silence. Blessed silence.
Sadly, it most likely wouldn’t remain that way. Kaisal wasn’t naïve enough to think he could hide Kam much longer before his pride began to ask questions. They’d smell her and he’d have to atone for it.
It had been three days since he’d left her at Naresh’s cabin, consistently throwing himself into work, into pride business, into whatever he could to forget about those golden eyes ringed in green, tinged in fury and terror, set into a face that haunted him. Kaisal squeezed his mug and exhaled. He could still smell her, still see the complete confusion in her expression. Why? Why was it that everything inside him protested the moment he was away from her? Away from Cal?
It didn’t matter what he did or how many times he did it, his thoughts returned to them. Was there enough food in the cabin, or did she want to go hunting but refrained for fear of being spotted by his pride? Was it warm enough or should he have chopped more wood for the multiple fireplaces? Was the electricity working correctly or was Cal sitting idly by, wishing he could watch cartoons until his head exploded? Was the water heater functioning properly? Was Kam getting any rest? Did she feel safe enough to close her eyes? Was Cal sleeping through the night? Had there been any—
STOP! Kaisal mentally roared. Fucking. Stop. He sucked in a deep breath and then another until his anxiety calmed. Was this how his father felt away on business when he couldn’t be near his mate and kits? Taras had traveled frequently when Kaisal was young. It had taken him years to move all his businesses and vested interests from the Primorye province of Russia and centralize them in the U.S.
Colorado hadn’t been his first choice of where to live, but since its weather and open space slightly mirrored what he was used to at home, it was the most comfortable compromise for himself, those who’d followed him, and Kaisal’s mother. In truth, Kaisal didn’t need to work. The Verochka name was stamped across everything from technological industries to vehicle manufacturers and smaller franchises. While Taras had primarily handled the money and investments, Asha handled negotiations. Her manner was a bit gentler and her stare was not as disturbingly borderline demonic as Taras’.
