Bending Steele

by Sadie Hart

  Then she seemed to shake it off and tensed underneath him, her hands curled into fists.

  “That’s fine. I’ll steal yours.”

  He had no doubt she’d try.

  Chapter Two

  He’d won. Steele had to admit she hadn’t seen that coming. It didn’t mean anything. In the end, she’d still walk away. But she didn’t get it. As King, damn near any other single female in the tribe would want him. She didn’t. So why her?

  I have my reasons. His words echoed through her head, but they didn’t make any sense. She should have guessed the Mark would come eventually. He’d tried numerous times to get to know her. To talk to her, sometimes being so damn sweet about it she’d wanted to scream. She liked the tribe for the company, the presence of others. It kept her from going insane sometimes.

  But she didn’t want more. She sure as hell didn’t want the hard length of his arousal she felt pressed against her hips. Sex could be so innocuous at times. Without emotion, it was just an act. But it could also be dangerous. Could lead to stupid things like love. Trust.

  And that wasn’t an option.

  Hexe lowered his head a notch, his breath warm against her lips. She thought of reaching up and biting him, but his hand tightened over her wrists, one thumb pressing down painfully. A warning. His eyes were hooded, locked on her lips and she knew what was coming. Steele sucked in a soft breath and clamped her jaw shut. He could kiss her but he wasn’t going to get far.

  A smile tipped his lips. There was a softness in his green eyes that she hated, because he always seemed to see more than anyone else. The rest of the tribe was willing to let her be. They took her at her word—or sometimes knife—and stayed away. Everyone except Hexe. The bastard had never gotten the hint.

  He always pressed just a tad farther, toeing the line between bluffing and her having to take action. So many times it’d been over stupid shit. He’d tried to share one of his kills, tried to get her to come join the group, tried to just walk with her out in the mountains. She’d never forget the soft sympathy in his eyes the night he’d found her wandering on the anniversary of her mother’s death. Those green-gold eyes genuine, sympathetic. They almost seemed to understand, even when he couldn’t have known.

  Staring up into those eyes again now, Steele braced herself against the surge of emotion. Grief, loneliness, longing. Hexe leaned in and Steele started to shake her head, when he gave her a soft smile. “No worries. I won’t kiss you. Yet.”

  Hexe lurched off of her. All that heat and muscle was suddenly gone and he was standing a few feet away, her knife wrapped in one hand. Steele forced herself to smile, to feign smugness, but inside, her heart pounded, wild and out of control.

  “If I didn’t know any better, my King, I’d say you were scared of me.” Only decades of practice kept her voice from shaking. With one look, this man had always been able to see deeper into her soul than anyone else.

  And looking at him now, she knew he could still see what no one else had. One corner of his lips lifted slightly before the smile slipped away. “No. Only cautious. I know better than to underestimate you.”

  His attention flicked to the tribe, who still lingered, watching them, and Hexe lifted an eyebrow. “You’re all still here?”

  There was a sharp chiding to his tone, a rebuttal, and Steele listened to the scrape of boots, suddenly nervous as they hurried to busy themselves. Oh, he’d known they were there as surely as she had, but he managed to dismiss them all without making it a command.

  Hexe turned back to her and she watched as he palmed her knife, holding it up so he could see the tribal characters etched into the hilt. His brows lifted as his gaze slammed against hers. “’Til death do us part?”

  The words opened a raging hole of grief, anger. Steele lurched to her feet, hands shaking. “It was my mother’s.” Given to her by the bastard that had been her father. “Don’t lose it.”

  Understanding dawned as he jerked his head in a slight nod. “I won’t.”

  Damn. But she hated him for that. She’d just given him another insight into her soul and he’d pick it apart and use it against her. “It’s nothing. Lose it. I’ll find another.”

  “It means something to you.”

  “No. It doesn’t.” She bit the words out as she took a threatening step towards him.

  Hexe held up a hand. “All right. It means nothing to you.”

  He unzipped his parka halfway, revealing a navy shirt, crisscrossed with leather straps. The knife disappeared inside and he tugged the zipper up against the cold, but his words danced around in her head. It means nothing to you. But it did. And they both knew it. Having him say it didn’t make him believe it any more than she did.

  Damn him. How did he do it? He took a step closer and she couldn’t help but stiffen. “It means nothing to you,” Hexe said softly. “But I’ll still keep it safe.”

  And those words were like a sucker-punch to the gut, leaving her vulnerable.

  She’d never liked being vulnerable.

  “Just because you have my knife doesn’t mean I’m unarmed.”

  “I wouldn’t be so stupid.” Hexe closed the gap between them, slow and confident. There was a swagger in the sway of his hips. She thought of lashing out, but then he was there, pressing close, his coat whispering against hers. He curled his hands around her upper arms and Steele lifted her chin to look him in the eye.

  He’d won one fight. According to tribal laws, that meant she had to spend the two weeks of Wintersong in the mountains with him. Live with him, share meals with him…and for many of their females, much more than that. As much as Steele braced herself against the idea, it wasn’t sex that made her nervous. It was spending time with him.

  Something about Hexe made her feel safe. He always had. He made her want to talk. Made her almost want a friend. None of which she could afford, but she didn’t have a choice. He’d won the fight. Tribal laws said she had to stay with him until the Mark faded. After which they could either formalize the mating or go their separate ways.

  If she reneged on their law and refused to go with him, she could be exiled. And the tribe was the only family she had left, the only contact she had with anyone other than herself. She feared not having that, having nothing to keep her human.

  “So tell me, Steele, your word. You’ll be with me until the Mark fades.”

  She laughed, a hard, brittle sound. “It’s law.”

  “You don’t always follow our laws.” His hands moved over her jacket, massaging softly through the thick parka. As if she were a wild animal he could simply soothe.

  “What makes you think my word is any good?”

  “Because you hesitate to give it.” His voice dropped lower. “Because you’ve never promised anyone anything that you didn’t follow through with.”

  Her jaw flexed. Damn. He’d watched her, closer than she’d even realized.

  Hexe gave her a grim smile, his expression soft. He gave her arms an insistent squeeze. “Steele.”

  Damn it. Her mother hadn’t raised her to be a liar. If she made a promise, she kept it. One look in Hexe’s eyes and he knew it. Two weeks. Steele shivered under his stare. It was warm, but always alert. Always watching. She tried for a bluff. “I don’t intend to keep you alive that long.”

  “Steele.”

  “Fine. ‘Til death, or the end of Wintersong, do us part.”

  Hexe grimaced a little. “That’ll do.”

  One hand released her arm, only to gently grip her chin. Hexe tilted her lips up to meet his. He ghosted the faintest brush of his lips over her mouth, despite the way her jaw clamped shut. “That’ll do.”

  He stepped aside and let her go, backing towards a nearby ledge. “Let’s go.”

  He turned, his body twisting as he took a step towards the steep rise of the mountain and in a single, effortless bound, Hexe shifted from man to cat. The pale white of his fur was dotted with black rosettes, his green-gold eyes flashing as he looked back at her. Dari
ng.

  Steele flashed blunt teeth that quickly morphed to fangs as she landed on the ledge next to him on four paws. She swatted at him, claws sheathed. Impatient. Lead the way. Steele tilted her head towards the winding path and Hexe got the hint. He bounded up the small notches in the cliff, scaling the mountainside using nothing more than the smallest ledges.

  Steele followed him, watching his lean body leap from rock to rock, all the while his words resonated in her head.

  I have my reasons.

  And Steele wanted to know just what those were.

  ***

  Hexe led her along the cliffs, through the forests that skimmed the mountain range, slowly winding his way towards the log house cabin nestled at the edge of a small valley, surrounded by a pine forest. Hexe tilted his head back and watched as she padded after him, head low, ears twitching. Skittish.

  Hexe slipped behind an evergreen and shifted back to human, clothes still perfectly intact. He listened for her approach, the steady pad of her coming closer and suddenly he stepped out, blocking her path. Steele crouched automatically, long fangs flashing under her lips as she shimmered, suddenly a woman standing in front of him.

  “You keep trying to scare me.” She reached out and ran a finger down his zipper. “I can’t imagine why.”

  Hexe caught her hand in his, holding tight as he closed the distance between them in a single step. In an instant, her almost relaxed stance turned hard, stiff. He slid a hand behind her back, pausing for a second to see what she did. Nothing. She just stared up at him, waiting. Almost daring him to keep pressing. So Hexe just stood there, letting time melt away between them.

  Finally, “What were your reasons?”

  Hexe gave his head a slight shake. “No.”

  “Bullshit. Come on. Why me?”

  “I will tell you,” he whispered. “But not now. You don’t trust me—”

  “I’ll never trust you.” She started to step away, but Hexe held her firm. Her teeth gritted, but she stopped fighting him. She didn’t want to fight. That was one thing he’d learned while watching her. She never wanted to fight.

  Hexe dipped his head closer to hers, his nose skimming along the line of her jaw and he finished the words she didn’t say. “You’ll never trust anyone.”

  He tilted his back to look at her, eyeing the cold resolve she clung to. “No.”

  “Have you ever trusted anyone?”

  Steele didn’t answer. She turned away and stared resolutely out into the woods around them. Hexe, however, wasn’t about to give up that easily. He waited, leaning closer to breathe the scent of her in. She smelled of fur, evergreens, and the slightest hint of peppermint. He wondered what she’d taste like. Sweet, tangy, maybe spicy.

  When Steele didn’t try and pull away he nipped over her jaw and felt the muscles in her back flex, even through the thick layers of her coat. He angled his head lower and nipped over her pulse, following the line of his teeth with a small swipe of his tongue. A hiss slid between her teeth. He glanced back up at her face and saw her still staring away.

  Why she didn’t fight right now confused him. What he’d said had hit a nerve, he got that part. But normally she lashed out when someone got too close. More specifically, she lashed out whenever he got too close.

  What this false passivity meant, Hexe wasn’t sure.

  “Turn your head, Steele. Face me head on.”

  He watched as the muscle in her jaw tightened.

  “You never stop, do you?” The words came out soft and her gaze darted his way and then away again.

  He wasn’t sure what she meant and when she didn’t elaborate he pressed a kiss against her neck. “Explain,” he murmured against her skin.

  “I’ll refuse to answer now, knock you on your ass, threaten to gut you, hell I might even stab you…but you’re just going to ask again, aren’t you? And again and again. Or you’ll ask a different question. You just don’t stop.”

  “Then talk to me.” That simple statement brought the barest hint of a laugh from her and it made him smile. This time when he kissed her neck, he lingered, letting his lips toy over the sensitive skin. She leaned into his touch and when he pulled away her eyes were closed. He let her go. “So you do warm.”

  When her eyes opened they were guarded, watchful, tracking his every move. He thought of pressing for an answer, but he didn’t have the heart. He’d almost gotten a laugh out of her. Hell, he’d gotten her to say more in those few minutes than ever before. That was enough for now.

  Turning to face his house, he reached for the door when a booted heel swept under his. He stumbled, lashing out to catch himself when Steele flipped him and rode him to the ground. Her hands wrapped in his, she tried to pin them back over his head, but she didn’t quite have the strength. His arms trembled, but held. She leaned down into his face.

  “No. I don’t. Back off, Hexe.”

  Steele lunged off of him, landing on her feet as she slumped back against his house, her lips pursed as she glared at him. The ice was back and she was ready to fight. Hexe rolled to his feet, keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn’t snap his neck on the way up, and then he reached past her to the door. There was no need to lock it this far out in the middle of the mountains. No one but another cat could make it here and no one would dare pilfer from their King.

  “Fine. Make yourself at home.”

  He gestured her inside, watching as her gaze made a fast skim over the small living room—with its collection of bare furnishings. There was nothing here that he hadn’t carved from the trees outside or been able to haul up the peaks himself. Her brows furrowed as she took it in. A picture of his parents sat on a small end table, a tiny radio was perched behind the frame. A few paintings decorated the walls, making them softer.

  Homier.

  Hexe shut the door behind him and leaned back against it, waiting for the verdict. He had no idea where she lived, but for some reason, he didn’t think it looked anything like this. Her hands curled into fists at her side and she twisted, taking in the adjoined kitchen. The small wood stove and open countertops. He had an icebox in the cellar, but he didn’t really cook or keep food here for long. He preferred to hunt. It kept him fit and made provisions easy.

  There was even an outhouse out back. Her gaze flitted to the door on the other side of the living room. The single wide house was small, but there was no mistaking it as anything but a home.

  “What?” Steele said over her shoulder, not willing to look at him.

  Hexe eased off the door and strode towards her, slow and deliberate. Her shoulders drew back, tense, but she didn’t move. That would be running and she couldn’t run to save her life. One hand found her hip as he stepped up behind her, loving the soft caress of her hair as he leaned forward to brush a kiss against her neck.

  She shivered against the invasion and he half expected her to lash out. Hexe drew up short. He would only push her so far, see if she could let him in, but he couldn’t force her.

  One glance at her face though as she took in his house and it hurt.

  “You look so...lost.”

  She snorted. “You have a lot of weapons lying around.”

  Steele tilted her head towards the fireplace along the back wall of the living room, and the metal pokers sitting beside it. “Bet you the kitchen has a few knives too.”

  Her pulse beat like a snowshoe hare’s, desperate. Terrified, and Hexe knew it wasn’t a physical fear. One on one, she could take him, even unarmed. You never stop, do you? No, he didn’t. And that scared her the most.

  Why? Because she might actually care about someone else then?

  Her gaze flicked back to the picture of his parents, their warm smiles filling the room. He loved looking at it, reminding himself of their happiness before the crash that had killed them. The one that had sent him stumbling out into the snow. The one that had gotten him attacked and made him a member of this tribe.

  The one that had brought him close to her. Hexe took a step
back, fingers finding his parka’s zipper as he tugged it down and he shrugged out of his coat. She turned to watch him, suddenly wary, but he plucked her knife out of the small sheath he’d hidden it in. He extended it to her hilt first.

  “If it’ll make you feel better.”

  Steele hesitated, her hand halfway lifted for the dagger as she watched him. She looked like the fox waiting for the trap. Hexe shrugged. “Take it.”

  He leaned forward and pressed it into her palm. “Just think, if you stab me in the back you can have the bed to yourself.”

  Without a second glance, he walked past her and headed for the kitchen. “Until you get to that, do you want some hot chocolate?”

  For the first time, he saw a hint of a real smile cross her face. She looked surprised. He waited, one hand on the cupboard, until finally she nodded. “Yes.”

  Chapter Three

  The Himalayan wind beat the tent flaps, an ever present sound from this hellhole. It howled as it ran through the mountains, rattling amongst the trees. Jackson Woodrow huddled deeper into his parka, his legs stuffed inside his sleeping bag, his map spread out over his lap. The dim light of his lantern cast the walls of the tent in shadows, illuminating only a small circle of the tent. It was just enough light to let him formalize his plans before he set out tomorrow morning.

  He’d marked several areas of possible hope for a successful hunt. The four red circles he’d traced represented the most commonly overlapping snow leopard sightings. He’d spent the last few weeks questioning the natives and trying to track down his best chance for success. Of course, they were talking the real cats. He was looking for something much rarer.

  Jacks frowned, tapping his finger against the paper. He’d studied everything he could think of. Prey migration routes, sightings of actual snow leopards, legends, and in the end, he found himself drawn to the blue ‘X’ he’d written on the map.