by T. S. Joyce
The snap of his jeans was loud in the tiny bathroom, and she reached into the elastic of his briefs and pulled a long stroke of his already hard shaft.
“You’re going to kill me, woman,” he said with a chuckle as he lifted her onto the vanity. He pulled her jeans down and tossed them out the open door. She could almost taste his smile when he brushed his tongue against hers and eased his pants down his hips.
She hadn’t known if a bear could keep up with a heat cycle like a male lion could, but apparently Dillon was up for the challenge.
He slid into her, gripping her hips to control their rhythm. This coupling was much faster and harder than the last ones, but she liked it. The skin slapping, Dillon grunting, ass flexing under her hands, uncontrolled release as he froze and emptied himself inside of her—she loved it all. His pulsing encouraged her own orgasm and she cried out his name as she bucked erratically against him.
As long as she lived, she’d never get tired of the feel of him between her legs.
He pulled out of her and murmured, “Stay there.” Then he dampened a clean rag with warm tap water and cleaned her gently.
“We’ve got three hours,” he said, catching her sensitive earlobe between his teeth and making her arch against him like an overgrown cat being petted the right way. “Get dressed and I’ll take you to Bron’s.”
****
Dillon frowned into the rearview mirror as he drove away from Bron’s house. Breshia gave a small wave from the front porch, and he had to drag his eyes away from her or he was going to lose his nerve and turn around.
“Look, I won’t be able to stay at Ethan’s all day today. I need to be back in a few hours,” he told Logan, who was messing with the radio dials from the passenger seat.
“I bet you do,” Logan said cryptically. “Smells like you got a lioness in heat on your hands. I bet she’s running you ragged.”
Dillon huffed a laugh and gripped the wheel tighter. “I don’t mind.”
“You need to stop and get some energy drinks from the gas station?” Logan teased.
“Shut up, man. I’m fine.”
“All joking aside though, you do need to stay hydrated.”
Logan would know, so Dillon ticked his head and dared a glance at his friend. He’d been challenged for breeding rights until it had almost killed him. Pride mating games were the reason he’d sought sanctuary with the Hells Canyon shifters. If anyone had the answers to the missing pieces of Breshia’s life, it would be him.
“Any other tips?” he asked carefully.
Logan leaned back in the chair and rested his elbow on the window ledge. “Eat after every coupling, even if you don’t feel hungry. She’ll need you consistently for at least three days, maybe four, and you have to stay fueled for it. Are you trying for a cub?”
“Nah. She’s on contraceptives. Some sort of shot that keeps her from getting pregnant.”
“That’s good. Smart woman. Breshia was always a hard worker from what I could tell when I visited the pride. Quiet too.”
“She won’t quit apologizing for every little thing. I don’t know what to do with it. And she can’t hold my gaze, like she thinks I’m going to hurt her or something. How do I settle her animal down enough around me?”
“That, my friend, is going to take a lot more than just some advice from me. She’s submissive, and you likely won’t be able to change her after what she’s been through. There will come a point where she gets as good as she’s going to, and you’re going to have to accept the rest.”
Dillon swallowed hard, wanting to know, and not wanting to all at once. “What’s she been through?”
“She should be the one to tell you that.”
“Logan, cut it out with the mystery bullshit. She gets scared off of talking about anything to do with her time in Portland. I want to know what I’m dealing with. I don’t want to hurt her any more than I can tell she already is, but I have almost nothing to work with. No background except for a few tidbits here and there. What happened to her that her lion is so scared?”
Logan sighed and stared out the window so long, Dillon thought he was just going to flat out ignore him for the rest of the drive to the Seven Devils. “You ever heard of caning?”
Dillon narrowed his eyes at the road. “No, but I can imagine what it is.”
“When Breshia was about ten, it became really apparent to the pride that she was a submissive, which almost doesn’t even exist in lion shifters. It’s not in our blood to cower. And the older she got, the more she internalized everything. Eventually, she didn’t defend herself at all. Add that to her looking different, which is a huge blow in a pride. Females are vain. And I don’t mean your typical, want to look good type of vanity. Appearances, and posturing, are everything. The females stay in a power struggle, so perfection is something they strive for. Breshia broke the mold.”
“Thomas talked to her like she was nothing,” Dillon admitted low. Disgust tinged every word. He wanted to kill that son of a bitch just thinking about him.
“Everyone did. They were trained to, and she never defended herself, so it became the way of things. Ironic that now they need her so badly and she won’t play along. They brought her defiance on themselves, and probably blame her, not their actions against her all this time. And Dillon, I swear to God, if you change in this truck, I’m going to claw the shit out of you. Cut it out.”
Dillon swallowed the rumble in this throat and rolled the windows down so his bear didn’t feel so trapped.
“You can’t do anything about where she’s been, man.” Logan looked at him with the saddest look in his dark eyes. “Only where she’d going.”
“I care about her.”
“I know. I knew it before you even brought Breshia to Bron’s last night.”
“What? How?”
“Reese called Muriel. Said she was there when you two bonded.”
Dillon scrunched his face up and shook his head in denial. “Bonds are bullshit.”
“Are they?” Logan stared, eyebrows cocked.
He did feel different about her than any other woman, but they’d been through a lot in the short time they’d been together. And yeah, every time he slept with her, he felt like something on a cellular level was changed, was improved, but that could be how it was for every mated pair, he didn’t know. Still, talking about a bond clicked something into place for him and felt right. He’d have to think on this later, when Logan wasn’t grinning like a cocky idiot from the other side of his truck.
“Look, a bond isn’t a bad thing, nor is it some scientific mumbo jumbo that connects you to your fated mate. It’s just your animal choosing for you. It’s up to the rest of you to pick her now.”
Dillon had already chosen her in every way that mattered, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Logan after one day of knowing Breshia. Logan would think he was a lunatic. But then again, Logan and Muriel’s pairing had happened quickly, so maybe he’d understand better than Dillon was giving him credit for. “They caned her to try and rile up her lion, didn’t they?”
“Yeah. They tried to whoop the submissive from her, but Breshia was too strong for them. The pride doesn’t see it that way, but her animal is tougher and more stubborn than all of them. They stopped trying to ‘fix’ her animal when she was in her late teens, and have left her alone for the most part.”
“Until the genetic testing. Until they gave her to your brother.”
“Yeah. Listen, Bron is in a hard spot. He doesn’t know the dynamics in the pride, or how different Breshia is, so he can’t condone what you did by claiming her. But for me,” Logan said, watching him with such a serious expression. “For me, I’m proud of what you did for her. She has a shot at being okay here. The pride would breed her until she couldn’t do it anymore, and they wouldn’t lift a finger to help her raise all those cubs. Thomas would break her, and the pride would help.”
“It’s not over yet, is it?” Dillon pulled in front of the Seven Devils ranger camp
and threw the truck in park. “They won’t give up this easily now that I’ve taken one of their last breeders.”
Logan shook his head slowly. “No.”
Agony ripped through him at the thought of losing Breshia now. “How do I keep her?”
“The pride let up on getting me back when I got Muriel pregnant.”
“You’re saying breed Breshia.”
“When you are both ready. Doesn’t have to be now, but that’s when you’ll likely feel the relief. It won’t always be like this.”
Logan hopped out of the truck and Dillon watched him greet Ethan and Reese near the main tent.
Bringing a baby into this mess wasn’t going to solve anything.
Somehow, he was going to have to think of another way to get the pride to let his mate go.
Chapter Ten
“Follow me,” Bron clipped out, hands behind his back and posture ramrod straight.
Breshia wrung her hands and stepped in line behind him. They filed through the front door of his house, but he turned abruptly.
“Everything you said yesterday was truth, but before we move forward, I want you to swear to me you aren’t part of some convoluted plan for the pride to hurt my people.”
“I swear,” she said.
“Good. I am sorry about what you’ve been through, Breshia.” His dark hair fell forward into his bright eyes and he cocked his head as if he were studying her. “I haven’t ever concerned myself with pride politics, and all of this information about how it really is for you and your kind is unsettling. We are a monogamous clan of shifters. Do you think you’ll be able to handle a single relationship with Dillon?”
“You’re asking if he will be enough for me?”
“He’s one of my best friends. I want to know you feel about him the way I can tell he feels about you.”
“I think I already love him,” she whispered honestly as heat flared up her neck.
Bron’s smile transformed his entire face. “Good. Come with me. I have someone you need to meet.”
Bron led her into a sunroom at the back of the house, and a dark-haired woman with her back to them turned. Anger flashed in her eyes before she dropped her gaze to a small bundle in her arms.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Bron murmured, then left.
“Tell me you aren’t here to take my child,” the woman said in a shaking voice.
The room smelled like bear and fury, so Breshia backed into the corner farthest away from the woman. “I’m not here for that. I’m here for sanctuary. The pride isn’t my home anymore. Maybe it never was, I don’t know. I just…I guess I needed to start over, and the only place to do that seemed to be here.”
The woman drew her hard gaze back to her, but Breshia couldn’t hold it. Instead, she stared at the hem of the woman’s dark blue jeans.
“Logan told me about you.”
Unable to find her words, Breshia nodded. She hadn’t a clue what Logan told her, or how much he even knew about her, but she was too frightened to ask.
“I’m Muriel.” Silence descended heavily on the room. “What’s your name?”
“Bre—Breshia.”
“My mate told me you were in charge of the cubs in the pride.”
“I was.” A pang hit her in the gut with how much she missed Samuel. His smell, and the little noises he made.
“This is my daughter, Abigail.” Muriel lifted the corner of a pastel yellow blanket away from the little bundle. A beautiful infant with dark hair looked back at Breshia with solemn blue eyes.
Breshia paced closer, fear warring with her curiosity. This was the child Shira was willing to go to battle for.
When Muriel lifted her bright green eyes back to Breshia, they were rimmed with tears. “She stopped eating two days ago. I’ve tried everything, even formula. Her scent started changing, like she’s sick. She stays fussy most of the time and only seems to settle if I have her swaddled up tight like this. I have asked every mother in the clan what could be wrong with her, but no one has any answers and I can’t take her to the hospital. They’d find out something was different with her. When Logan told me you had experience with babies, I thought it worth the risk to summon you.” Her voice dipped to a whisper. “Please don’t make me regret this.”
“Oh, no,” Breshia breathed, heart hurting for what this child would go through. “She’s not sick, Muriel.” Her voice sounded hollow and sad, even to her own ears. “She’s changing.”
“That’s impossible. She won’t shift for a few years yet.”
“If she was a bear, maybe, but lions aren’t the same. Samuel, the baby I was caring for before I left the pride, he is four months old and has already shifted twice. It starts much earlier with us. May I hold her?”
“No!” Muriel backed away and twin tears streaked down her cheeks.
“Okay, I’m sorry. You need to un-swaddle her. She feels comfortable like that because it makes her feel like she’s not breaking apart. She has to change to feel better though. She’ll go back to eating after it happens.”
“Is this why she smells different?” Muriel asked, hugging the child more tightly to her.
“I can smell her lion from here,” Breshia said. Her lip trembled and she bit it to try and keep hold of her emotions. It would’ve been better for Abigail if she was born a bear. Her future would’ve been much, much easier.
With a soft hiccup, Muriel set the child down on the cushion of the chair and unwrapped her blankets. A wail filled the room as Abigail found her lungs. It sounded pained, but there was nothing to be done about it.
“What do I do?” Muriel asked through a sob.
“Here, may I?” Breshia asked, eyes averted and head angled to expose her neck.
Muriel hesitated, then handed her the squalling baby. “The only way Samuel settles down for a shift is to hold him like this.” She turned Abigail and rested her cheek and belly across the inside of her forearm, then rocked gently and stroked her back. “Shh, shh, shh,” she said. The child’s arms tensed and relaxed, then tensed again as her whimpering subsided. “Here, you try.”
She handed her to Muriel and helped her position Abigail. Two of Muriel’s strokes down the child’s back, and she tensed again and morphed into a tiny lion cub.
Muriel wept as she brought the cub to her chest and murmured how proud she was of her, and what a brave little thing she’d been. The cub looked frightened, but settled against Muriel, and as minutes ticked by, a tiny purring could be heard.
Muriel laughed thickly as tears streamed down her face. “I thought she was dying,” she murmured. “I thought I was losing her.”
“Bron,” Breshia called out.
“What?” he asked, appearing in the doorway almost instantly.
“You might want to call Logan back. He’ll want to see his daughter in her first shift and this one won’t last for long.”
“She’s a lion,” Bron said, eyes round.
Muriel smiled through her tears, like it made no difference to her. “Abigail is a lion.”
And with that, Breshia knew the child was right where she needed to be. She didn’t need to be raised by a pride of apathetic lionesses. They wouldn’t care about raising her, nor would they care about her. They only cared about what she would mean to their future, but what kind of life would Abigail have? Breshia fell to her knees in front of Muriel as the tears she’d held back fell from her damp lashes.
“I pledge my fealty to you and Abigail.”
“What do you mean?”
“As long as I breathe, I’ll never let the pride have her. She’s meant to be here, to be raised by you and Logan. She’ll be a great lioness someday, but only if she stays here in Hells Canyon.”
Muriel sank to her knees, cradling her tiny lion cub. She pulled Breshia in and hugged her until she couldn’t draw breath. “Thank you.”
By the time Logan burst through the front door, Muriel was leaned back on the living room couch, playing with her cub. Abigail seemed to be getting the
hang of her body, because she had already started practicing retracting her claws and Muriel’s royal blue, silk blouse was on its way to being shredded. The mother seemed so relieved she apparently didn’t care much, and when she saw Logan, the most beautiful smile stretched Muriel’s face.
Logan dropped his gaze to his small, golden-furred cub, and for the first time in Breshia’s life, she witnessed emotional tears fill a male lion shifter’s eyes. He wasn’t disappointed in her animal, like Breshia was afraid would happen. He laughed thickly and ran his hands through his hair as Bron clapped him on the back and offered him congratulations.
Dillon leaned on the doorframe, and his slow smile filled Breshia’s heart to bursting. He’d been gone less than an hour, but she’d missed him terribly.
“Breshia helped,” Muriel explained as Logan sank down onto the cushion beside his mate and daughter. “I was wrapping her too tight and keeping her from shifting.”
“You didn’t know lions shifted in infancy?” Breshia asked him.
Logan shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving his daughter as she leapt clumsily for his lap. “I was never around cubs and I didn’t remember my first shifts.”
Abigail climbed his thin, cotton T-shirt, and he grunted as her little claws found purchase. He scratched her back as Abigail rubbed her face all over Logan’s two day scruff on his jaw. She hadn’t stopped purring, and he laughed as she switched her affection to the other side of his face.
A small frown took Dillon and he twitched his head like he was just putting together what Breshia rubbing against his face all last night meant. She giggled and nodded.
“We’re having a dinner to celebrate,” Muriel announced. “I want you to be there,” she said, swinging her gaze to Breshia.
“Me?” she asked. She hadn’t ever been invited to anything with the pride, and had always been reminded she was an outsider. Here, she felt so…different.
“You’re one of us now,” Muriel said, lifting her chin.
Breshia’s face crumpled and she pursed her lips as she tried to keep her tears from coming back. A strong hand gripped her shoulder, and she nuzzled Dillon’s knuckles. “I’d like that,” she whispered.
