by Nikki Winter
Despite the success that weighed on his identity, Kaisal had still felt the need to do something aside from propping his feet up and benefiting from the efforts of others. Becoming a SEAL allotted him the opportunity to work his way up in rank, to learn what it was to simply start out as a grunt in life—no special treatment, no respect received without earning it. He’d never really ever be able to determine the exact moment he began to enjoy it too much; the moment he no longer did it unselfishly but because loosening his leash gave him pleasure. Anyone who tasted the end of his bayonet or felt the discharge of his Beretta deserved the justice he’d doled out, but his darker inclinations—the ones that told him hunting was in his nature, that killing was in his nature—perturbed him. Perhaps it was that he never wanted to carry the reputation his father had before settling down, or maybe it was the fear that those darker inclinations would rise once more and he wouldn’t be in control, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
Coming home had been his best choice, the most viable option. But he was aware of the way others saw him. He knew Naresh and Basanti were the only ones who didn’t avoid him because they didn’t see a killer—they saw a brother, a cousin, a leader. They didn’t look at him as though he could snap at any moment.
Neither had Kam or Cal…
“What is wrong with me?”
“Well, my theory is,” a soft voice stated from just to the right of Kaisal, scaring the fuck out of him, “you were dropped as a child. Several times.”
“Baz,” he quietly said, resisting the urge to scream like a startled babe. “How many times have we discussed your making actual noise when you enter the presence of someone else?”
His cousin rolled her small shoulders casually, and Kaisal would swear that someone somewhere was rocking in a corner, whimpering at the memory of their encounter with her. To say she was horrifying was an accurate description. She growled at just about anything, small children often screamed in her presence, and there wasn’t a precise description for the color of her eyes, but she was family. Family that scared the general populace and somehow managed to move like a kitten walking across feathers, but family nonetheless.
Kaisal’s parents had adopted Basanti as a cub when her own were killed in a fatal crash, leaving her in a pride where no one wanted to assume responsibility for another child. Her father had been Asha’s brother. Although communication was cut upon her leaving when she mated Taras, she’d still given Basanti a place in her home at the urging of her mate, who had a soft spot for the niece who’d become a daughter.
“Making noise goes against the natural instinct to silently approach my prey.”
Kaisal eyed her. “We’ve also gone over the fact that not everything that moves in your line of sight is prey.”
Dark brows flicked upwards. “I remember no such conversation.”
“Un-hunh…”
“Why is that one strung up like a game for my amusement?” Basanti questioned, nodding toward Naresh, whom Kaisal had been mentally blocking out.
“Because your cousin is a bastard!” his brother yelled.
She pushed thick hair over one shoulder. “He seems unnecessarily angry.”
“Yeah. He does.”
“Perhaps he should do a few curl ups while there.” Her head tilted. “He’s starting to get doughy around the middle. I briefly thought about telling him the other night. Then watching him cry as he realized he’s a shell of his former self.”
Kaisal swallowed more coffee to keep from laughing as Naresh swung around, now screaming that he would declaw Basanti in her sleep. “Why do you antagonize him?”
“Because when I hurt his feelings it brings me infinite amounts of joy.”
“Ah,” he grunted. “Good reason.”
She leaned back on her elbows. “So I discovered something interesting this morning while hunting.”
“Really?” Kaisal asked distractedly.
“Yes.”
“And that was?”
“A lioness in Naresh’s cabin.”
Kaisal tensed.
“But being that she seemed so comfortable, I’m assuming she’s there by invite and so is her offspring.” His cousin stretched out her legs. “I wouldn’t be wrong in my assumption, would I?’
“No.”
“Good.”
There was silence for a few seconds.
“Is that all?” Kaisal questioned.
“Yes. I also assume that she’s the reason you’re currently pouting.”
“I’m not pouting,” he disputed. “I’m brooding. There’s a distinct difference.”
“No, there isn’t,” Naresh hissed. “Because you’re dickless!”
“That’s a sexist statement, little brother. This is why you don’t know what a vagina looks like. Because you’ve no idea how to speak properly to those who own them.”
“I know what my foot in your ass looks like! Pure nirvana, fuckface!”
“If you two are done tickling one another’s tummies,” Basanti interrupted dryly, “I asked you a question.”
“No, you didn’t,” Kaisal retorted.
“Pretend I did. The same way that I pretend I don’t fantasize about twisting your brother’s tiny little head off and bouncing it around like a toy.”
“I really don’t understand the relationship the two of you have.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Obviously.”
“Now.” She sat forward. “Why is the lioness here?”
“Because she needs to be,” he answered vaguely. Going into detail would be a pointless. Kaisal wouldn’t be able to answer every question she had. He didn’t even have all the answers to his own questions as of yet. Starting with his curiosity about what had taken place between Kam and the Oriade pride. Who pushed her out and why?
“Hmm.” Basanti stood. “Does she need to be here or do you need her to be here?”
“Your verbal riddles and silent insinuations annoy me, female. Take a stick and beat Naresh. Leave me to my brooding.”
“Before you get too deep into the brooding, I should warn you that if you send me to deal with Dublhainn Monahan again, I will skin him alive, stitch him back together again, and fill him with helium so he can be used as a balloon when the mood strikes me.”
Ah. Yes. There was something happening between the pack alpha and Kaisal’s cousin that couldn’t be put into words exactly. He’d been so focused on Kam the other night that he hadn’t stopped to think about it. At some point he’d ask. Just not today.
Kaisal lifted his mug in a toast. “Consider me sufficiently warned and completely disturbed by your vivid imagery.”
She smirked but said nothing else and Kaisal once again sat backwards, his eyes on the tree line as he blocked out the sounds of Basanti doing as he’d directed and beating Naresh like a piñata.
***
They were leaving. Today. Kamali couldn’t put it off any longer. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t draw. Callum had gotten restless, irritable. The more questions he asked about Kaisal the more restless and irritable she became. Then the burning started. Flames licked the depths of Kamali’s gut—twisting her from the inside out—and the sensation was so intense that rest was impossible; standing still was impossible. Swallowing to regain moisture in her mouth had become a chore. Every draw of air did nothing but send her into a tailspin because all she could smell, all she could taste was him. If she didn’t leave now…
“What’re you doing?”
Kamali cringed at the accusatory tone floating from the doorway of Callum’s room. He’d moved down the hall, preferring to have his own bed because he’d apparently outgrown sleeping next to her.
Turning, she met his stare, a few of his shirts in her grasp, his suitcase open in the middle of the floor. “Packing, love.”
His eye narrowed. “Why?”
She sighed. “Because we have to leave.”
“No.” Callum shook his head. “I don’t want to leave. I w
ant—”
“Callum, we have to—”
“What about Kaisal?” His small hand fisted at his sides. “He promised we’d be safe here, that we could stay here. I want to stay.”
Dropping his things, she crouched to eye level. “That’s not a promise he can keep, if¹, and I won’t risk you. So we have to leave.” Kamali reached out and ran her fingertips down his temple. “We can’t hide away here forever.”
“I want to say good-bye.”
“Callum—”
“No!” He jerked away. “I want to say good-bye to Kaisal!”
Kamali reached for him but came away wanting. He moved faster than she could anticipate and was down the hall in minutes. She charged after him and heard the front door swing open. “Callum!”
Shooting through the cabin, she cleared the couch and went straight toward the entrance. She hit the front steps and caught sight of a bright green shirt amongst the droves of white-covered earth just outside. Kamali called his name. By the time she hit the pavement, her feet came out from under her, ice now controlling her movements. Every ounce of air previously stored in her lungs left the moment her back connected with the ground. She tried to draw in a breath and almost choked. Her chest felt as if would cave in at any moment. Kamali lay there, blinking back the moisture in her eyes until the pain dissipated and she was able to inhale again.
Sitting up slowly, she got to her feet and carefully stepped her way through the snow, tracking Callum’s steps as she went along. Frustration mounted the longer she walked. Frustration with herself, with Kaisal, with the shitstorm that was her life. She should’ve known he’d want to attach himself to the only male who’d ever shown him something other than tolerance. In just a few hours of time, the tiger had provided everything her son had been missing in Alfre, in Enilo, and in her—a healthy, testosterone-laden influence. He’d been kind and gentle with an infinite amount of patience, almost as if he needed to be around Callum as much as Callum needed to be around him. But they couldn’t stay. Kaisal wasn’t theirs to keep and vice versa. He had his own life, his own family, and his own issues. To bring Nico down on his head after all the inexplicable decency he’d shown her would be selfish. Kamali wouldn’t do that to him; she wouldn’t do that to his pride.
She kept her eyes on the ground, no longer aware of the freezing temperatures surrounding her or the iciness seeping into her limbs. As always, Callum was her priority. Kamali needed to explain to him that leaving was best for everyone, no matter how hard it may be.
***
“Kaisal!”
Basanti and Naresh’s confused eyes met his just across the kitchen island where’d they’d been seated for the last hour, debating the newest mock-up for personalized security systems.
Basanti’s head tilted. “Is that…?”
“Kaisal!”
He rose from his position and headed for the back door. A quick glance through the windowpane gave him a glimpse of riotous hair, a bright green shirt, and fast legs. Without hesitation, Kaisal swung the door open and started down the deck. “Cal?”
The cub’s movements never ceased; he powered forward, leaping from the bottom step to the top and launching himself at Kaisal. Catching the boy, he crouched. “Hey, hey, hey. What’re you doing away from the cabin? Where’s your mother?”
Cal shook his head, tiny hands clenching in Kaisal’s T-shirt. “She’s trying to make me leave!” Bright, devastated eyes stared up at him. “Tell her we can’t leave. Tell her you want us to stay. Tell her we’re safe!”
“Cal—”
“Please.”
Kaisal sucked in a deep breath, placed his palms on Cal’s shoulders. “Calm. Down.”
The cub inhaled, his lips trembling. His lids slid closed as if he were staving off the urge to cry. They stood like that until his expression hardened into a mask that Kaisal had seen Kam wear more than once—determination. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to have to start over. I’m tired of running.” He swallowed. “I like it here.” His stare turned accusatory. “Even if you haven’t been around.”
Right. No punches pulled.
“I—” He stopped the moment undertones of freesia teased his senses. Kam wasn’t far behind and the smell of her seemed to have only gotten headier the longer he kept his distance. It had gone from simply being sweet to being distinctive. Kaisal’s tiger pushed. Ours. She’s trying to leave us. She can’t leave us.
Kaisal bit the inside of his cheek. He’d get control. He’d get control quickly.
Cal wrapped his small arms around Kaisal’s neck. “Please.” The plea in his voice, the thread of desperation tapped something inside that was unbearably hard to feel. He was attached. He was fucking attached. How or why was indecipherable but his beast would not be ignored. If he stood by and attempted to watch them leave, his leash would snap and there would be no going back.
Her voice rang out, and soon the sound of her footsteps crunching through the snow followed. Kaisal stood, Cal clinging to him. She passed the trees and her gaze locked onto his the moment she cleared them. For the briefest second she looked as though she simply wanted to fall to her knees but she didn’t. She lowered her stare and he felt the slow build of a growl in his throat.
Ours. His tiger reiterated.
“If¹,” she softly called, coming closer. “It’s time to go.”
Cal’s grip tightened. “No.”
Her eyes begged Kaisal to argue, to insist but he did neither. He simply watched her as she approached, her steps slow, steady.
“You’re leaving,” he stated flatly.
Kam halted, her gaze turning wary. “We’ve stayed long enough. I need to start—”
“Why?” Kaisal cut in.
She shifted from one foot to another. “Why what?”
“Why are you leaving?”
Cal lifted his head from Kaisal’s shoulder and turned to his mother, obviously looking for an explanation also.
Catching her bottom lip, she rubbed her arms. “Because we need to.”
“Why?” he asked again.
Her nostrils flared and she slowly repeated herself. “Because we need to.”
“Why?”
Her jaw clenched and Kaisal could see her resisting the inclination to scream. She wanted to. The way her shoulders tensed and her hands balled at her sides told him. Her eyes suddenly went from his and bounced just over his shoulder. Without turning around, he knew Basanti and Naresh were in the doorway, obviously curious about the tangible tension building in their presence.
Kaisal sat Cal down and kept his glare fastened to Kam’s, speaking calmly. “Baz, would you please take the young prince inside and make him a mug of cocoa?”
“Err…” Indecision colored her voice.
“Now.”
Cal looked from Kaisal to his mother before moving out of sight. The back door closed behind him.
Kam spoke through clenched teeth. “You have no right—”
“Is there something wrong with the cabin?” he cut in, stepping down. “Is there not enough heat? Enough food?”
She looked confused. “The cabin’s fine.”
“Has someone in my pride spotted you? Did they make you uncomfortable?”
“No.”
He took another step down. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”
Her chest pushed against the thin T-shirt hugging her torso. “No.”
“So then why”—Kaisal closed the space between the two of them—“are you leaving?”
“We cannot stay here.”
“Tell me why,” he demanded. “Give me a good reason why.” Reasoning gave way to frustration, which gave way to the slow boil of anger. She wasn’t doing this. She wasn’t charging into his life, eliciting all of these new emotions—foreign emotions—then just walking away. No. She couldn’t just simply induce these feelings of possessive obsession and then turn around and disappear.
“Kaisal…” Kam’s tone was a warning. One that he ignored.
&
nbsp; “You. Stay.”
She shook her head. “I said no.”
The muscles in his jaw worked, his chest bulking. “Yes.”
Steely resolve met him head on. “We. Go.”
Calm quickly fled. “Tell me why!”
“Because if we stay here we die!” Kam roared. She slapped at his chest. “Do you understand that?! You make me fucking reckless! I have my son around someone I don’t even know, someone who doesn’t even know me, and it’s making me forgetful—comfortable! If I stay here—if we stay here—I will slip, he will find us and we will die.” She pushed away from him. “There is someone who will stop at nothing until he gets what he wants.” Liquid gold irises stared back at him; her voice dropped to a whisper. “I have seen the devastation he can bring down. There is no mercy, no grace, and no emotion. He does not care about how much blood is spilled or how many bodies he has to bury, he will keep going, he will continue until everyone here is wiped out and then he’ll go for Callum. He destroyed half of my pride to get to Callum. He killed my father to get to Callum.” Her canines were in clear view. “Where I’ve come from—where I was—is not a grouping of housecats looking for their next meal. The Oriade Towers? Callum and I rightfully own that. We rightfully own a lot of things. My father was one of the most powerful shifters in our community, and the moment he died—the very second his throat was slit—that power passed over to someone who is insane. Someone who wants to break me. If you think I’m going to sit and play house with you while my end is literally tracking me down, you’re wrong.”
She started past him and Kaisal dragged her back by her shirt. Placing his lips to her ear, he murmured, “You clearly have me confused with the fucker whose throat you ripped out. Believe me when I say that you have not even begun to see devastation, princess. I am not—nor have I ever been—weak enough to watch anyone in my pride, on my territory, get wiped out. This individual that is coming for you doesn’t truly grasp what it means to be without mercy on the grounds that he. Has. Not. Met. Me. And when he does, when he finally oversteps his bounds and forgets he isn’t the only thing that goes bump in the night, I will make sure he receives exactly what it is he desires because by the time I am done with him and whomever he’s brought along for the ride, he’ll want nothing more than for me to end him.” He cupped her face on either side and pressed his lips to her forehead. “You can hide from him but you will not run from me. Not when I haven’t given you a reason to. Not when the thought of never seeing you or Cal again makes me want to hurt things. I don’t care where you came from, what your surname is or how much power that son of a bitch holds. You’re under my protection. Mine.” Swallowing, Kaisal said, “Go inside. Warm up. Stay there.”
