by Celia Kyle
His paws barely touched the ground before airborne once again, sending him flying over leaves and pine needles peppering the earth. His lion pushed, urged him to go faster. They needed to go, go, go.
Pain was nothing, it no longer existed inside him. The wounds were forgotten, the coating of blood disregarded. His entire focus remained on getting to Ricker, and subsequently, Angus. He followed the pungent scent, tracing it to its source. The closer he came to his destination, the more the aroma filled the air. He was close. Very, very close.
A snarl broke through the silence followed by another irritated roar tinged with a hint of pure rage.
He dug his claws into the soil, slowing his movement until he stood before a man-shaped tiger. Blood coated his fur-lined skin; the male glared at the ground and then slowly turned that glower on Grayson. Beneath that scowl, Grayson shifted to two feet and pushed his lion into the back of his mind.
The crash and smash of trees reached them a split second before Brute, massive-as-hell lion, leapt into the clearing. The male landed with a low grunt and then straightened to his animal’s full height, shaking his body to rid it of debris before he shifted to two legs as well.
Then they waited for the huffing, puffing tiger to settle himself. Ricker was usually the deadly one of the group. If he killed, he killed. He’d shrug, ask for another beer and could someone pass the popcorn. Nothing ruffled his fur. The male before him was definitely not the calm ex-Tracker they were used to.
Ricker took a deep, calming breath and released it slowly. The fur remained on his skin, but at least he appeared a hint more composed.
“The asshole…” Ricker pushed the words past fangs and paused, breathing deep once again. “The asshole, who I assume was Angus-the-fuckhole, fucking ran like a little bitch.” He huffed. “We tangled, fucker took a chunk outta my leg, and then he shifted and climbed into an SUV before I got to him. Asshole’s gone,” he roared to the sky. The tiger pointed at his shoulder. “Plus he fucking got me in a tiger stripe. Bet it’s going to fucking heal crooked. Maddy loves licking that one and the asshole—” Ricker cut off and growled, “Fuck!”
“Look, Ricker, it’s my fault. I’m sorry you’re hurt.” Grayson didn’t want the male thinking anyone blamed him for anything. “I shouldn’t have asked you to watch over Honor and me while we—”
“No, I should have—”
“But—”
“For the love of fuck, will you two stop apologizing for having dicks and focus here?” Brute roared at them and then pointed at Grayson. “And I don’t wanna hear anything about what you do with my sister. Especially if it includes going into a damned forest alone and probably naked. Ever. She’s a fucking virgin no matter how many cubs she pops out. Do you hear me?”
Grayson was the pride’s Second, but Honor’s brother still scared the hell out of him sometimes. “Sure.”
“Good. Now, let’s grab any lingering scent of the asshole or his SUV. See if we can follow it and hunt him before he comes after us again. It’s a long shot, but…” Brute shrugged and half-shifted. He strode toward the deep tire tracks in the dirt, pausing near Ricker. “And quit bitching about your fucking stripe. You’re a tiger for fuck’s sake, not a woman.”
Grayson tucked that little statement away in case he ever needed to blackmail his mate’s brother. A tiger, not a woman? Oh, the females in the pride house, Maddy specifically, would have a field day with that one. Grayson would keep quiet… for a price. If things weren’t serious, if they weren’t hunting Angus, he’d gleefully rub his hands together.
Brute talked a big game around the males, but everyone knew the man became putty in his mate’s hands. Ricker growled at Brute’s retreating back and Grayson kept his mouth shut.
Staring at the blood coating the ground and the amount covering Ricker, he knew Angus was hurting.
The sound of another approaching had Grayson tensing. Who’d emerge now? “Brute, who followed you?”
The massive tiger snorted. “Who didn’t?”
His question was answered a moment later when a handful of others emerged from the forest. Deuce appeared first, quickly followed by Harding. Harding’s pale coat never ceased to amaze Grayson. The lion was pure white and scarred to hell and back, but still beautiful.
He wouldn’t say those words out loud.
“What do we got?” Deuce, still clothed and in human form, stepped forward.
“A fuck-ton of blood from the pussy asshole who ran like a bitch, and one pouting tiger,” Brute answered before he or Ricker responded.
“As soon as we’re done killing this asshole, you and me are going toe-to-toe, you hear me, furball?” Ricker pointed at Brute.
“Wanna eat that finger, stripes?”
Then the two males growled and snarled at each other. Shit. Sometimes he hated his job as Second. He was hurt, weak, and now had to play referee. “Enough.” He shoved his way between them. “I said enough!” He spun on Brute and shoved the male. “Are you going to piss a circle around Ricker or are you going to help me keep your sister safe?” He slammed his palms against Honor’s brother again. “Well? Do you want to be a dick more than you want her alive and well? More than you want to kill the male who tortured her?” The memory of the scars peppering her body would cause him nightmares.
“Torture…”
Grayson internally cursed at his slip and plowed on. “Get your shit together, Brute. I’m following this god damned trail and I’m finding the fucker. Then I’m going to serve his head on a fucking platter to Honor.” He glared at Brute. “With or without you.”
Not caring who followed, Grayson strode toward the deep furrows in the ground. More of his shift washed over him with each step. By the fifth he went from two legs to four and by the tenth, his lion was fully in control.
He had a male to hunt and wasted no time in finding the scent.
Here, kitty, kitty. I may not be a big, bad wolf, but I’ve got a big, bad set of teeth to show you.
Chapter Eleven
“Today’s pain will be tomorrow’s pain and the day after’s pain and then at some point, when you’re feeling better, you’ll kick that guy’s ass.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who is all about laying the smackdown on the baddies.
A thin imaginary thread kept Honor’s mind tied together. It remained solid through will alone and Grayson’s presence at her side. His arms held her body while she fought to retain her soul. Any moment she’d shatter into a million pieces.
Part of her welcomed the obliviousness that’d bring.
The other part knew Grayson would never survive her insanity. He was her mate, her one. Too bad God fucked with the male and gave him such a screwed-up mate. He should ask for a refund.
That thought forced a snort from her, the sound quickly followed by a giggle.
“Honor?” Grayson’s voice held more than a hint of worry.
She shook her head; there was no way to explain it to him. Not in a way that made sense to someone who was sane.
Then Maddy snorted. “Refund? That was funny.” Honor swung her gaze to the Sensitive and the lioness paled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, I’m tired and on edge, and it makes me twitchy. Your thoughts are screaming at me and invading my head. Kinda hard not to overhear.” Maddy nibbled her lower lip. “It doesn’t make it any less funny.”
Normalcy. Normalcy she could deal with.
Honor nuzzled Grayson’s shoulder and sank into him even more, allowing him to accept her full weight. She was so very tired. Tired of running, tired of hiding, and tired of being afraid. Just… tired.
“Nothing, I’m fine.” She pressed a kiss to his chest and inhaled. His scent called to her, called to her cat.
The men hadn’t found Angus, but she loved the fact that their male went after the one who’d hurt them. He’d also shown his strength by breaking up a fight between Brute and Ricker. That made her lioness purr in appreciation. He was brave, fearless, and willing to kill for her. A
heady combination for a beast craving her male. The perfect combination as far as Honor’s animal was concerned.
Instead of dragging her mate upstairs to explore her lion’s need, they were stuck in the pride house living room, discussing the threat.
Honor tried to leave at first, since the meeting was for guards, protectors, and their mates. Grayson should be in the room, Honor should not.
Until Alex’s words halted her retreat. “Honor, mates are always included.”
“I’m not—”
A hand fisting her hair and yanking her head back reminded her, though. The action should have scared the hell out of her, should have sent her running and crying. Instead, it made her melt and crave his touch.
“Mine.” He tugged a little harder, baring his fangs, his eyes glowing bright amber. She realized how much the hunt for Angus affected him and he needed her at that moment. “Mine.”
Instead of fleeing, she stroked his chest, petting him until he purred. “Yours.”
Grayson grunted and that’s how she found herself snug against him as Alex listened to Ricker’s retelling. The males also made recommendations regarding safety and hunting the intruder. Nothing they talked about mattered to Honor, not when she was safe in her mate’s arms. Nothing.
Except plans for the Gaian Moon. That mattered. So when they got to that area of the program, she listened.
Alex opened the topic. “Grayson, how’s the prep going at Genesis?”
Genesis. Pride club and orgy arena on the night of the Gaian Moon.
The thought had Honor snarling, first at Alex for bringing it up and then at Grayson for being involved. They weren’t truly mated yet and she wondered if he’d partake of whatever was offered within the club walls. Her fangs emerged, claws formed and dug into his chest while fur sprouted on her arms.
“Fuck, Alex, could we have approached the topic a little more delicately?” Grayson tried to move and Honor dug her nails deeper. She hadn’t cut him. Yet.
“I’m sorry, but Honor, you need to know this is part of his job. He’s a mated male, so he won’t, uh…”
He was a mated male, but he wasn’t a mated male. The thought struck Honor between the eyes and the cat responded as well. Hers, but not hers.
“Regardless, until a replacement is hired and trained, he has to oversee the next Gaian Moon.” Alex’s tone brooked no argument.
Fear snaked down her spine, fear and worry and panic and… So, so many emotions battered her. She’d wanted to spend the night sedated, knocked out and unable to beg anyone to fuck her. She didn’t think she’d be ready for Grayson and he’d agreed to her plan.
She’d anticipated him watching over her and now she realized he’d never made that promise. She’d assumed… Now she knew why he hadn’t offered.
“You knew you’d have to work.” She shoved the words past half-shifted teeth.
“Yes, I knew.”
“And you didn’t think telling me was a good idea?” she growled.
“I assumed you knew.” His words were right—calm and controlled—but his scent was wrong.
Worry. Panic. Angst. Fear…
It was like her emotions of the last several months were plastered all over him. She’d done this to her strong, cocky, dominant mate. Through her own fear, she’d destroyed him.
Honor slumped against him, loosening her hold and relaxing into his embrace. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his chest, brushing a kiss over his tortured skin. “I’m sorry, you’re right.”
“Ah, lovely…” He hugged her. “We’ll talk about it later, hmm?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
The meeting continued, flowing around her like a river. It picked up pieces of information and left others traveling amongst the large group.
They’d call in a few men to patrol while additional support was on the way from the council. After what they found in London, they were taking no further chances. The males, the London Prime and Angus, were both wanted. There would be no trial. Death was imminent.
Honor wasn’t sure how she felt about that, if she were honest. She ached to bathe in their blood almost as much as she wanted to hide and never be found.
Neither was a way to live, she did know that.
She wasn’t sure how long the meeting lasted or what had been decided. Grayson would tell her later. Right now, it was all she could do to stay sane as scenario after scenario attacked her.
Should she?
Could she?
Would she?
Each question ended the same, the subject at least, consistent.
Should she mate with Grayson?
Could she mate with Grayson?
Would she mate with Grayson?
When Grayson helped her to her feet, she still didn’t know. He draped an arm across her shoulders, holding her snug against him, and she relished the security of his hold. He was keeping her and nothing would steal her from him. Not even Angus.
She loved his nearly overwhelming possessiveness.
With the end of the meeting also came a mass exodus. Males had their orders to distribute and tasks to complete. That meant the house would once again only hold its normal occupants.
Blessed quiet would hopefully allow her to answer the pressing questions.
Looking forward to the silence, she slumped against Grayson, smiling when he kissed the top of her head.
“Honor?” Her brother’s voice was soft, tentative. Two words she never would have attributed to the massive lion.
“Huh?” She raised her head from Grayson’s chest.
“I… You… Just… Fuck.” He yanked her from her mate’s embrace and wrapped her in his brotherly arms. His familiar hold comforted her, protected and cradled her. The male was deadly with a hair-trigger temper, but he’d never released that on the family. He scared the hell out of everyone but those who knew the dangerous lion was a kitten inside. “I’m glad you’re back. I’m glad you’re not broken and I’m sorry we weren’t there for you when… Just when.”
His words were muffled against her hair, but she heard the soul-deep pain lurking in every syllable. She doubted he had details, but it wasn’t like the women not to share, a little.
“I’m fine now, Brute.” She stroked her big brother’s back, soothing him like he’d done to her when they were little. Sure, they fought, but he’d also been there when she’d needed him.
“I know, I know. Just… Grayson said something in the forest and, my God, Honor.” She kissed her brother’s cheek, holding him close. Not many saw this side of Brute. They saw the snarling male who could snap them in two.
“And I’m okay now. He’s making me okay, Brute. He really is.” The truth of her statement sank into her, crept into her heart and healed every remaining crack inside. The scars remained, still carved into her flesh and on her soul, but the brittleness no longer lingered. “He’s made everything okay.”
She realized, comforting her brother as his mate Elise and Grayson looked on, she had the answer to the questions spinning through her mind.
Should she mate with Grayson?
Could she mate with Grayson?
Would she mate with Grayson?
Yes.
*
A change rolled through Honor as she clutched her brother. It wasn’t physical, but something shifted inside. Her scent altered, shifting over so slightly, and it shed the final tendrils of worry she carried. The aroma drifted from her, disappearing into the mingled flavors of the room. Gone as if it never existed.
Finally the embrace ended and Grayson’s lion grumbled that it was about damned time. Even if Brute was her brother, he didn’t want other lions getting the idea that holding Honor like that was acceptable. Because it wasn’t. He’d rip the arms off any male who tried to touch her. He’d…
Honor curled against him, his arm once again draped over her shoulders as she snuggled into his side.
“Hey,” she whispered.
He looked down at her, into fa
thomless eyes, and saw a new spark deep in the orbs. Yes, something changed. “Hey, back.” He turned his head and watched Brute and his mate head toward the hallway, leaving the two of them in the living area alone. “Everything okay?”
“Mostly. A few things to do, but yeah, it’s pretty okay.” She sounded happy, bouncy, and the scent of her joy was an aphrodisiac. He wanted her, craved her, even if he couldn’t have her. Yet. He had to remind himself of the “yet” portion.
Honor’s stomach grumbled and he smiled. The cat couldn’t have her, but he could take care of her. “Hungry?”
She rubbed her stomach. “I could eat.”
“Then let’s see what we’ve got in the freezer.” He draped an arm across her shoulders and nudged her along, leading her down the hallway toward the kitchen.
She snorted. “If you’re thinking of the kitchen freezer, we’re only going to find ice cream.”
“Nah, Alex made Maya give up a little freezer real estate and bought a small one for their bedroom. They, uh,” he coughed, slightly embarrassed yet disgusted at the oversharing from the Prime, “they got creative with her treats.”
“Ew, TMI.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” He chuckled, releasing her as they entered the kitchen, gently pushing her toward the table. “Have a seat. Lemme feed you.”
“Grayson, I can—”
He put a little more push behind his next nudge. “Lemme feed you.” He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her plump lips. “Let the cat feed you.”
Her pupils expanded, the black nearly blocking out the sparkling brown of her eyes. “Okay.”
Oh, he got to his little mate. She was still scared as hell, but he got to her.
In no time he had the ingredients, the oven going, and the cast iron skillet heating on the stove top. The pan was his favorite, aged and cured for years. He’d have to sneak it out when he and Honor moved into their one-story, slightly cramped home. He couldn’t wait.
