Treasured by a Tiger

by Felicity Heaton

  “What was it?” She started after him, limping down the mountain path, not wanting him to get too far away from her all of a sudden.

  He looked back over his right shoulder at her. “What was what?”

  “The thing your brother was curious about?”

  “A door.”

  She frowned at that. “A door?”

  What sort of male was curious about a door?

  “More specifically, what they were holding on the other side and why it needed two guards to protect it at all times.”

  That made more sense. She would be curious about such a door too.

  “When Talon’s mate broke back into the place with him to help him free the other captives, she found some information and one of the files she downloaded is definitely about the door. I’m following up the leads… but it’s harder than I thought it would be. I don’t speak the lingo down here, and it turns out not many of Hell’s residents speak English. I’m surprised you do.”

  “I’m not a resident of Hell.”

  He glanced back at her again. “You’re not?”

  She shook her head. “I hate it here. I speak good English because I live in Norway.”

  His silvery eyebrows rose. “Fancy that. So what brought you to Hell?”

  “Idiocy. But we were talking about you. It must run in your blood.” When he gave her a quizzical look, she added, “The penchant for risking your neck to free captives.”

  A hint of a smile touched his lips, but lasted only a second. “I just… with what happened to Talon, and then my sister Maya almost ending up a slave of some fucker that she had been promised to at birth… I just snapped when I saw the people in chains marching towards their doom.”

  “There aren’t many in this world who would risk their life in order to free slaves they didn’t even know and would never see again… people who probably wouldn’t even thank them.” She was sure most people in the world would look in the other direction and just walk away.

  Grey had done something about it instead.

  He tried to shrug again, but it was stiff this time. “Some thanked me… I think… like I said, I don’t speak the languages down here.”

  Lyra stepped towards him, narrowing the distance between them, and held his gaze. “Thank you, Grey.”

  Rose coloured his cheeks and he looked away from her. “It was nothing.”

  It was something.

  Not only had he freed her, but he had carried her kicking and snarling away from that terrible place, and had tended to her wounds.

  She had never met a male with a heart as big as his one.

  He had saved her, and scores of other slaves. He had come to Hell to help his brother, and even though he didn’t speak the languages of this realm, he showed no sign of giving in and going home.

  Oh hell, she was going to regret this, but she owed him, far more than she could ever repay him.

  But this would be a start.

  “I can speak the demonic tongue, ancient fae, and modern fae, and even some of the lesser known languages of Hell.”

  He frowned over his shoulder at her and bit out, “Good for you.”

  Meow.

  This kitty had claws when he thought he was being rubbed the wrong way.

  She wasn’t looking for a fight with him though.

  “I’m saying I can help you.”

  He stopped so suddenly she almost slammed into his back and instinctively pushed her hands out in front of her.

  Planting them right on his bare hips.

  Stupid backpack. Her face heated. If he hadn’t been wearing it, she probably would have aimed her hands at his back and not somewhere lower, and more dangerous.

  Damn. His muscles were as firm as they looked beneath her palms.

  His head bent, the wilder lengths of his short silver hair falling forwards as he looked down.

  At her hands.

  Lyra snatched them back.

  “Why would you help me?”

  The way he said that, filled with incredulity and confusion, had her heart softening again, and wanting to know more about him. Why did he find it so impossible that she might want to help him?

  Why was he looking for a new place to call home?

  What had driven him away from his pride?

  “Because you helped me.” She kept her eyes locked on the back of his head, and her feelings steady, crushing the part of her that said she couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust any male.

  She didn’t have to trust him in order to help him.

  Once they were square, she would leave as planned, would head right through that portal and not look back.

  “Fine,” he said, and he could have sounded more appreciative of her help.

  She glared at the back of his head. He started walking again.

  “We can start at the village. It’s the first location in the document I have.”

  She wasn’t familiar with the village in question. She followed Grey down the rest of the way to the valley floor, mulling over everything he had told her. She was no longer sure that getting a clearer picture of him had been a good idea.

  It painted him in too good a light.

  It made it harder for her to keep her distance.

  “We can rest here.” He jerked his chin towards a few black rocks that had obviously tumbled down the mountain at some point.

  Lyra eased her bottom down against one of them and bit back a sigh as she lifted the weight from her legs. The bone in her left one had fully healed, but it was still sore and it ached from all the walking. She wouldn’t tell Grey that though. He would probably offer to carry her or something equally as noble and kind.

  She wasn’t sure she could take it.

  He pulled a cloth from his back pocket, huffed and sank down onto a boulder opposite her, resting there as he rubbed the cloth across his face and neck.

  Gods.

  She shouldn’t have looked at him.

  Sweat glistened on his bare skin, tempting her eyes to go to places they shouldn’t, to traverse muscles that screamed of strength that called to her on a deep level, one where she wasn’t quite master. They tugged at every instinct, filling her head with images she shouldn’t be entertaining, but couldn’t quite block out.

  He paused at his work and looked across at her, those soft blue eyes turning hard and dark with something that stoked the fire inside her, pulled harder at her and lured her towards him.

  She was about to force herself to look away when he closed his eyes and frowned, lowered his head and fisted his hands in his lap.

  What was he struggling against whenever he did that?

  She feared the answer, even as part of her ached to know it.

  When he finally opened his eyes again, they were calm and cool, the fire of passion gone from them.

  He pushed onto his feet, jammed the cloth into his back pocket and turned side on to her, his eyes locking on the distance.

  “We should keep moving.” He didn’t sound as if he wanted to do that. His deep voice was thick and hoarse, a low murmur that sent a tremor through her, a rolling wave that brought heat in its wake.

  She forced herself to nod and eased back onto her feet.

  Grey glanced down at them and looked as if he wanted to apologise again. He had offered his boots to her, but she had refused. They would be too big for her and she was used to walking barefoot now.

  His socks were a blessing though.

  They cushioned her feet enough that she didn’t feel the sharp bite of the rough ground as they began walking again, heading across the valley basin towards the village in the distance. She could just about make out the glow of flaming torches, a tiny flicker of gold in the dim light.

  Returning to the mortal world, to her home, was going to feel like Heaven after being surrounded by so much gloominess for the past few months.

  He adjusted his pace to match hers so they were walking side by side across the black land.

  He was too quiet again, tra
pped by thoughts that she wanted to know, not because she wanted to pry into his private life but because she hated the dreadful silence and the rattling of her chains.

  “We can find someone to break them,” he said, and she felt sure he had read her mind until she realised she was toying with the chains, had been tugging at them without realising it. “I need to get them off you.”

  I need.

  Not we need.

  Most people would have spoken of them as a group, with a shared desire.

  Grey had spoken only of himself, of a need that he had, one that looked as if it was eating away at him judging by the way he was glaring at the handcuffs, a flare of anger in his eyes.

  He reached for them and she hissed at him, a reaction she couldn’t quite contain. His hand stilled, and he stood frozen for a moment and then backed off.

  “Sorry.” She rubbed at the cuffs, shame sweeping through her.

  He had only wanted to look at them, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from lashing out at him, driven by the sudden fear that had gripped her.

  Fear that something bad would happen to her as it had every time someone had touched her shackles.

  He shook his head, his blue eyes flooding with a soft look. “I should be the one apologising.”

  She closed her hand around her right cuff and held it near her chest as she battled for the words she wanted to say, the ones to reassure him that he had no reason to apologise to her. She had been the one to automatically assume he was going to hurt her. She was the one in the wrong.

  “No, Grey. I… it’s just… whenever someone touched them…” Her voice grew tight and a weight pressed down on her chest.

  She wasn’t strong enough to talk about it yet after all.

  Grey gently shook his head again. “I won’t do it again. I didn’t mean to drag anything up. I was just going to see if I could break the chains off them.”

  She looked down at her cuffs. “I managed to snap the chain in half, but the links nearer to the rings on them are stronger.”

  Meaning he wouldn’t be able to break them.

  He wasn’t like her. He was a feline shifter, and was powerful, but hellcats were the strongest of their kind. If she couldn’t break them, then he certainly wouldn’t be able to do it. Even with the shackles sucking on her strength, she was stronger than him.

  “I’d like to try,” he said in a low voice, one laced with determination, and a promise that he wouldn’t hurt her.

  He wasn’t going to let it go unless she gave him a shot at them. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he couldn’t take them off the chains. It tore her in two, ripped her between letting him try and fail to alleviate his need, and pushing him away to protect herself.

  She wanted them gone too.

  She tugged at them, weighing her options. If she gave him a shot at them, it might stop him from looking at them and reminding her that they were there.

  She drew down a deep breath and followed it with another, trying to find some balance and courage, something she had always had before that cursed male had tricked her and sold her into slavery.

  She could do this.

  Grey would fail, and he would let it go.

  When she returned home, she would find all the saws and tools she owned and get the damned things off her.

  She released the death grip she had on her right shackle and held it out to him, her arm shaking as she edged it towards him. Her heart began a sickening fast rhythm against her chest.

  His eyes leaped between the cuff and her. “You’re sure.”

  She nodded, swallowed to wet her dry throat, and sucked down another breath. “Just… don’t touch my skin.”

  Because she wasn’t sure she could take it and she feared what might happen. Her animal side was pushing, fear pulling it to the fore because it was her stronger form, one she could use to fight and would ensure her victory.

  Grey wasn’t going to hurt her. She didn’t need to fight him.

  He was going to make a few attempts on the chain and then he would give up.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

  She did as he had instructed, shutting out the delicious sight of him and focusing on picturing her home in Norway, deep in the mountains, miles away from the humans and the busy mortal world.

  That vision flickered and faded as she felt him take hold of the shackle, but she clawed it back again, breathed through the sudden rush of panic and managed to keep her feet planted to the black dirt. She could do this.

  Grey wasn’t going to hurt her.

  He drew down a deep breath.

  He would make a few attempts on the chain.

  He roared.

  Her arm jerked to her left.

  Chain hit rock with a startling clamour.

  Her eyes flicked open.

  She stared in disbelief at her right cuff, at the empty half-ring where the chain had been attached to it, and then at Grey.

  He stood before her, chest straining, shoulders tensed and eyes dark.

  Either she had been wrong about how strong she was with the cuffs inhibiting her, or Grey was far more powerful than she had imagined.

  Far more powerful than he should have been.

  “What species are you?” she whispered, afraid of his answer.

  He wasn’t a hellcat.

  But her heart leaped around in her chest as if he might be, her breath stuttering and refusing to come.

  He took hold of her other cuff in one hand and the chain attached to it in his other.

  “Tiger.”

  He roared again as he pulled on the chain and shoved at the cuff, moving them in opposite directions. His fangs lengthened, his dark silver eyebrows meeting hard above his closed eyes, and every muscle on his chest and arms tensed in unison.

  Lyra could only stare at him as he snapped the chain on her cuffs. It took effort, strength that left him visibly shaking as he tossed the chain away from them, but he managed it.

  She had never met a tiger shifter before. Were they all as strong as Grey?

  He stooped, picked up the other chain, and growled as he twisted away from her and threw it far into the distance.

  Grey shifted to face her, looked down at her wrists, and exhaled hard. “That’s better.”

  He was telling her.

  Lyra looked down at her cuffs.

  Damn, it felt good to see the chains gone.

  She only wished she could find a way to get out of the shackles too. All in good time, she supposed. She would get them off her.

  “Come on,” Grey said and tilted his head towards the village. “First round is on me as a thank you for letting me do that.”

  She should be the one thanking him again. She stared at the metal bands around her wrists as she walked, following him to the huts and tents in the distance. If she had coin, or anything of worth, she would buy him as many rounds as he wanted.

  “I think I should probably translate for you before we start drinking,” she said and he smiled over his shoulder at her. “Do they have food too?”

  “Not sure… but if you like protein bars, I have plenty.” His smile widened and a light filled his eyes, one that warmed her.

  He was relieved, happy that the chains were gone.

  Just how big was that heart he was protecting?

  She wanted to know.

  She shook that away and focused on her plan, the one where she was meant to thank him for rescuing her by helping him talk with the locals and then leaving once he knew where he was meant to go next.

  As they neared the boundary wall of the village, she lifted her head and looked around. A few ramshackle black huts stood in the centre of the low stone ring, with tents erected nearer to the wall. People of all different species moved around the village, some in groups of two or three, at least thirty in total. It was busy.

  She had pictured it as a quiet group of thatched stone huts where people lived, but it looked more like a way station.

  She limped
forwards, and a few of the females and males coming and going looked her way.

  An urge to fight swept through her and she struggled to control it, to bring it to heel and overcome it.

  It was instinct, that was all. She was injured, felt weak and vulnerable, and so her instincts were making her react and want to lash out to protect herself.

  “You’ll be fine,” Grey murmured quietly next to her, and she realised he had dropped back and had moved closer to her.

  Had he sensed she was on edge?

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Lyra looked up at his profile. His dark silver eyebrows were low above those mesmerising blue eyes of his, which were dark as he studied the people moving around the village, focusing on those closest to her.

  She looked at them too. They weren’t a threat to her. She had no need to fight them. Her eyes roamed back to Grey. Calm washed through her, pushing out the urge to bloody her claws.

  He led her into the largest of the circular black stone huts. It was busy.

  The urge to fight returned as people looked at Grey, and then at her. She bit back a growl as Grey ushered her through the cramped room towards the small bar, pushing his way through the crowd. She used him as a blocker, staying close to him so no one would brush against her. When they reached the stone bar, he offered her the only seat, and used his body as a shield, keeping her safe as he had promised.

  That calm returned.

  It dissipated the moment he hailed the bartender, a curvy brunette with a killer smile, enough cleavage to drown a man stuffed into a tiny leather corset, and dazzling colourful eyes made for luring males to their doom.

  The second the female looked his way, Lyra saw red and the urge to fight flooded her, had her black claws extending and a snarl curling up her throat.

  That left her cold.

  The need to fight wasn’t hitting her whenever someone looked at her, born of a need to protect herself because she was injured.

  It was striking her whenever he looked at a female.

  Lyra gripped her knees as that hit her, stared at the black stone bar in front of her and struggled to find a valid reason for her reaction, one other than the obvious.

  These females weren’t hellcats. She had no reason to want to fight them for territory, an instinct that ruled all female hellcats and was why she had avoided Hell and her own kind for most of her five hundred years.