Serengeti Storm: Serengeti Shifters, Book 2

by Vivi Andrews

  “You were strong enough,” Shana insisted. For a moment she fell silent, and he thought he might be able to drag her kicking and screaming back to that peaceful place. But then she spoke, her voice soft and sly. “You aren’t a kid now. You almost challenged Landon today. You could defeat him, Caleb. You could be Alpha.”

  A veil of red fell over his vision as anger coursed through his veins. She was still trying to manipulate him. Still trying to turn him into her own personal mercenary. Will fight for sex.

  Disappointment and frustration warred with anger, but it was the anger that won, tightening every muscle in his body.

  She would never change. No matter what sweet words she gave him, no matter how many different ways she found to tell him she loved him, he would never be more than a tool to her. A means to an end. Her love would always be a lie.

  Caleb felt like a thousand kinds of fool. He had almost believed her this time. She’d almost had him.

  “Is that what this is about?” The words felt like jagged shards of glass leaving bloody tracks as they dragged themselves out of his throat. “You thought you could fuck me into challenging Landon?”

  “What?” Shana blinked at him, wide-eyed and innocent. “No.”

  He didn’t buy her act for a second. He shoved her off him and quickly stood, grabbing his discarded jeans and yanking them on. “I’m never gonna be Alpha, Shana,” he growled roughly. “I don’t want to be. I may be stronger than Landon, but we’ll never find out, because I’m never going to challenge him. Never. I’m not a leader. I never have been. You’ve always known that, but you could never get it through your thick head that I’m not going to change. I’m not going to become the perfect Alpha just because you have some twisted need to be the Alpha’s mate.”

  Shana pulled the sheet up in front of her, the move modest and distinctly out of character. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “How did you mean it?” He held up his hand to stop her before she could reply. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear whatever lies you dig up.”

  “I’m not lying!” She threw down the sheet, kneeling on his bed, wearing only her hair and her indignation.

  “No? Then tell me you don’t want me to challenge Landon.”

  Shana hesitated, her eyes flicking down to the mattress.

  “You can’t say it, can you?” Caleb shook his head. “I should have known. It was always about finding someone strong enough to best the Alpha. You never wanted to be with me. And, you know what, Shay? The feeling’s mutual. I don’t want to be with you anymore. I’ve had enough.”

  “Caleb, I did want you! I do!” she shouted, but the door had already slammed behind him.

  Snow and ice covered every surface after the night’s storm, but Caleb didn’t feel the cold. He shifted into his lion form and ran, trying to outrun Shana’s hold on him. Fearing he never would.

  Shana took her lioness form, needing the comfort of her fur wrapping around her.

  He’d left her. Again.

  She’d confessed her feelings, did the whole mushy Dr. Phil crap, and he’d fucked her brains out. But, at dawn, he’d still run out on her so fast, he’d practically left skid marks. What did a girl have to do to get a man to stick around past breakfast? One lousy little comment—one extremely true comment—about the fact that he could be Alpha any time he wanted to be and he completely lost his shit.

  Shana slashed her claws through his sheets, but the tantrum did nothing for her mood. She still wanted to claw and bite and savage something until it was unrecognizable. Preferably something live and twitching.

  He hadn’t really meant that. About being done with her. About having had enough. He couldn’t have meant it.

  Her throat and eyes felt tight. Goddesses don’t cry.

  Shana ran out of Caleb’s bungalow before the growing urge to destroy something overpowered her and she demolished his furniture. She ran across the compound on four paws, through the heavy snow that had fallen the night before. The Storm of the Century had finally hit.

  She leapt onto the snowdrift-covered porch of her borrowed bungalow, freezing in her tracks when she scented a male lion waiting for her inside.

  Not Caleb.

  She hoped whoever it was wanted a fight, because her claws were itching to oblige.

  Shana shouldered open the door and stalked in, belly low and hackles high. Landon, in human form, rose from the chair he’d been waiting in. The Alpha stared her down. From the look in his eye, he was all too willing to give her the fight she wanted.

  For a brief, reckless moment, Shana wondered what it would feel like to go for his throat. She wondered if he would be able to shift before her teeth closed around his throat, their sharp points easily piercing the vulnerable human softness of his skin. How would he fight back? Would he try to overpower her with his size and strength, giving her the advantage of speed and flexibility? Could she defeat him?

  The thought swirled in her brain like alcohol fumes, teasingly toxic.

  Shana shook it away and shifted form. Landon averted his eyes as she went to grab a pair of jeans and a sweater.

  “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” she drawled as she yanked on the tight denim.

  “And every time you remind me of that, I wonder why I haven’t already thrown you out of this pride.”

  Shana snorted, unimpressed by the threat. “You can’t do that. It would ruin your whole I-accept-you-you-accept-me bullshit plan for us.”

  The Alpha’s jaw locked. “It isn’t bullshit.”

  She turned back to face him, shoving her sweater sleeves up as she folded her arms beneath her breasts. “You’re asking us to ignore hundreds of years of tradition and a hierarchy of strength that is as natural to us as breathing. It’s bullshit.”

  “Equality is natural too.”

  Shana laughed out loud at that little gem. “Are you freaking kidding me? Equality isn’t even natural to the humans. The drive to dominate, to win, is natural. This whole kumbaya crap is an attempt to overcome our natural urges. Not an extension of them.”

  Landon was silent for a long moment, studying her. There was an oddly speculative gleam in his eyes. And something else. Something soft. Mushy. Like the way he looked at Ava. The way Caleb used to look at her.

  “What?” she snarled.

  He shook his head. “I was just thinking how lucky I am not to have chosen you as my mate.”

  “Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual, asshole.”

  Landon sighed. “You can’t call the Alpha an asshole, Shana.”

  “Oh, yeah? You’re not a big fan of freedom of speech, then? Just equality. No freedom. I get it.”

  He wiped a hand across his eyes, groaning. “I didn’t come here to argue with you. Ava told me about you and Caleb.”

  Shana’s eyebrows flew up. “Your wife told you about my sex life? That must have been a real bonding moment for you two. Was it good for you?”

  Landon ignored her snide remark. “He won’t fight me for you,” he said. “No matter what you do to him. Caleb’s loyal and he doesn’t want to be Alpha.”

  Shana’s temper spiked. “God, what is it with you guys? That isn’t what I want anymore, get it? How long are you going to punish me for the actions of the past?”

  “The past?” Landon asked in disbelief. “We’re talking about yesterday. You told him to challenge me in front of the whole pride.”

  “Yeah, but that was yesterday. Past. I’ve got a new game plan now.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. You and your game plans.”

  “I don’t care about being the Alpha’s mate anymore,” Shana insisted, wondering as she said it if the words were actually true. They didn’t feel true, but she wanted them to be. She wanted to just want Caleb. She wanted to not be twisted and power hungry.

  “Look, Ava tells me your mom is no picnic—”

  “Don’t you talk about her,” Shana snarled, her claws flashing out as anger boiled hot in he
r veins.

  Landon raised his hands in surrender, but his words continued, relentlessly. “Ava’s worried about Caleb. She doesn’t want you hurting him. And as long as you’re tangled up in your mother’s power plays, someone’s going to get hurt.”

  “You’re asking me to choose between Caleb and my mother.”

  “I’m asking you to think about what you’re doing and who it’s benefiting—if anyone—before you go starting any more fights.”

  Shana’s blood cooled as the logic of what he was saying slowly penetrated her anger. “My mother would never do anything to hurt me,” she said, even though the words felt like sawdust on her tongue.

  Landon didn’t call her a liar. Her estimation of him rose a few notches.

  “Look, I believe in second chances,” he said. “This is my second chance at a healthy pride and I’m going to make it work. But the thing about second chances is they don’t work if you’re carrying a grudge. Forgetting is a bitch, but you’ve got to at least try the forgiveness part or you’ll never get away from your past.” He moved past her to the door, pausing at the threshold. “If you want to get away from it.”

  After the Alpha disappeared out the door, Shana dropped down onto her bed, drawing her knees up to her chest.

  She’d asked Caleb to forgive her that morning and he’d thrown it back in her face. What the hell else was she supposed to do? She couldn’t make him forgive her. It wasn’t like she could fight him for his forgiveness.

  She’d offered to let him spank her—which had actually been damn hot—but that hadn’t earned her any brownie points on the forgiveness scale. What did he want from her?

  Anger boiled up again, hot and thick in her veins.

  No one was satisfied. Caleb, the Alpha, her mother. Shana wasn’t good enough for any of them.

  The anger swirled around, seeking a target, finally settling on her mother.

  It was her fault. If she hadn’t filled Shana’s head with tradition and her rightful role, none of this would have happened. Shana would have stuck with Caleb, happily paired off with him at the age of sixteen. She wouldn’t be the wretched mess she was today, alone and likely to remain that way.

  The anger burned, its acid turning in on her. Shana fisted her hands, her claws digging bloody gouges into her palms. The pain was welcome, the scent of blood hot and thick in her nostrils. Brenna had done this. She’d ruined her.

  Then, suddenly, Shana realized what the Alpha had meant. Caleb wasn’t the problem. He wasn’t the one who needed to forgive. She was.

  Serengeti Storm: Serengeti Shifters, Book 2

  Chapter Nine

  Shana crunched through the snow on her way to a reckoning that was long overdue.

  She stopped in front of the all-too-familiar bungalow and braced herself for the confrontation to come. Backing out now wasn’t an option.

  She was going to lose Caleb—if she hadn’t already lost him—all because of some stupid slip of the tongue. All because she couldn’t seem to stop being her mama’s girl. It was past time that changed. It was time she changed.

  The house looked like something out of a goddamn painting, snowy and homey and sweet. Shana kicked a snowdrift off the porch to wreck the postcard perfection of the scene. She pounded her fist on the door, loud enough to be heard through an early morning hangover stupor. At the vaguely human groan of “Come in,” she stomped in and kicked the door shut behind her.

  Shana planted her feet and crossed her arms, hoping she looked like walking, talking menace, but feeling nervous and tremblingly small, as only her mother could ever make her feel.

  Brenna pushed herself up to a sitting position on the messy daybed where she often passed out. She blinked at Shana blearily. “Shana-bay? When did you get back?”

  “I’ve been back,” Shana snapped. “I was here yesterday.”

  Brenna frowned in confusion. “Was that yesterday?”

  “Memory a little foggy, Mother?” Shana kept her voice rough and merciless, letting all the anger of the last two decades bleed acid into her words. She was hurting and not caring who she hurt. “Why don’t you have another drink?”

  She crossed to the crates her mother had set up as an impromptu bar. Grabbing the first bottle that came to her hand, Shana held it up, angling the label toward the morning light seeping in through a crack in the blinds. “Ketel?” She grabbed a glass and splashed vodka up to the rim. She carried the glass and bottle over to where her mother huddled, watching her warily.

  “Have a drink.” She waved the glass toward her mother, careless of the alcohol that splashed out on the floor.

  Brenna didn’t reach for the glass. Her expression was cautious, but her eyes were locked on the glass. She licked her lips.

  Shana’s hand tightened spasmodically on the glass, shattering it. Shards bit into her palm, sterilized by the alcohol dripping from her hand. She threw away the remnants of the glass, not caring where they fell.

  Her mother’s nostrils flared as the alcohol fumes hit them.

  “Not in the mood for vodka?”

  Shana didn’t have any conscious intention of throwing the bottle. One second it was in her hand. The next it exploded against the door in a shower of glass. Her brain didn’t even seem engaged in the action. She didn’t have any conscious thoughts right now, just an anger that had waited too long to be released.

  Brenna flinched and cowered. “Shana-bay?”

  “I’m angry with you, Mother,” Shana said, the words distant and foreign on her tongue. “I’ve never said that before, have I? I think I’ve been angry with you my entire life.”

  Her mother’s eyes grew wounded and misty. “Shana. Why?”

  “Why? Are you fucking kidding me?” Shana’s hands curled into fists. She needed something else to throw. Something else to break.

  She stormed over to the crates, inspecting the inventory of bottles. Brenna could have thrown a party for a rock band without needing to visit a liquor store. Shana grabbed gin with one hand and vermouth with the other, ignoring the way the glass shards dug deeper into her palm. She didn’t throw them, just gripped them by the necks.

  “Do you remember what you said to me when Landon took over the pride?”

  Brenna’s eyes flickered nervously. “He seemed a good catch.”

  “‘Fuck him.’ That’s what you said. ‘If you’re going to be a slut, Shana, at least fuck someone worthwhile. It’s your time. Be his consort. Do whatever it takes.’”

  “I’m sure I didn’t say—”

  “Oh, no. Of course not. You’re the mother of the fucking year. You would never tell me to whore myself out to any man who might have half a prayer of being Alpha. You would never dream of telling me to leave the only man who ever made me happy because he was never going to amount to anything.”

  “You deserve to be with the best.”

  “I deserve to be happy!”

  The vermouth bottle shattered against the door.

  Shana tried to take a breath, tried to find a place of calm, but all she could feel was the bottle she held. “He made me happy, Mother. I loved him and he loved me. But all you could see was that he would never be more than a lieutenant, a good soldier.”

  Brenna’s face screwed up with distaste. “Is this about that Caleb?”

  “Yes!” The gin erupted, a fountain of pale green glass.

  Her mother flinched at the violence, but her expression had turned mulish. “You were too young to understand what you were giving up by being with him. I only wanted what was best for you. You were bred to rule, Shana.”

  “I don’t give a shit what I was bred to do! That’s no excuse for turning me into the camp slut.”

  Disdain flooded Brenna’s face. “You did that all on your own.”

  “Did I?” Shana hefted an oversized bottle of Scotch. “I suppose I told myself how easy men were to manipulate in bed. I suppose I decided all on my own to leave Caleb and sleep with a series of men you so kindly picked out for me. Richard…”
the Scotch crashed against the door, “…Daniel and Dillon…” Chopin and Tanqueray joined the destruction, “…Ari and Corin and Jato.” Three more bottles exploded into hundred-proof debris.

  Shana’s throwing arm was starting to ache, but in terms of the men whose lives she’d destroyed to become the Alpha’s mate, men hand-picked by her mother, she was just getting started. Names and bottles flew across the room, until she was panting and sweaty. Her face was hot and wet, but she didn’t remember crying.

  She looked down at the crates. There was only one bottle left. An industrial-sized plastic jug of cheap tequila. She picked it up and unscrewed the top. The mixed-drink puddle at the door crept across the room, soaking into the rugs. Shana splashed through it and kicked open the door. She upended the tequila over the snow on the porch, melting the pristine sweetness of it.

  After the last drop had fallen, she dropped the jug beside the wreckage at the door, crunching through the glass. She didn’t bother to close the door. She wouldn’t be staying much longer.

  “I’m done, Mother. I’m going to be with Caleb now, if he’ll have me. No more machinations. No more plots. Just me and my good-for-nothing soldier.”

  “You deserve—”

  “Shut up! Just shut up about what I deserve!” The words were a rabid scream that sucked the last of her energy. Shana felt battered and defeated, exhausted to her core. “I have to forgive you,” she said softly. “I have to forgive you or I can never expect Caleb to forgive me, but every time you talk about what I deserve and my goddamn legacy, you make it so damn hard. I need you to stop, Mother.” She took a deep, ragged breath, trying to get air back into lungs that had gone unbearably tight. “Just stop for me.”

  “Shana…”

  “Stop.” Shana turned and walked through the lake of poison and out the door. She didn’t look back.

  Serengeti Storm: Serengeti Shifters, Book 2

  Chapter Ten

  From the liquid still dripping down the front door and the shell-shocked expression on Brenna’s face, Caleb had just missed Shana.