Which meant he could intervene.
Damn, he needed to feel bone cracking beneath his fists, and pain erupting on his body. He needed something to pour this energy boiling inside him into, something to get all of the damned aggression out of him. He needed the oblivion of being spent, so exhausted from the battle that all he could do was laze and recover, drift in a daze as his muscles burned and bones ached, and body struggled to heal itself.
He drank the remains of his coffee and debated taking the mug back to Rath, but in the end settled on remaining where he was, his spine plastered against the rough bark of the pine and his eyes anywhere but Yasmin.
She had gone inside a few minutes ago.
He wasn’t focused on her. He really wasn’t. He just happened to notice that she had moved, drifted further towards the edges of his acute senses.
She started drifting closer again.
He frowned and glanced towards Rath’s cabin, and his eyebrows dipped lower as he spotted her strolling down the clearing towards the river. Towards him.
Flint’s gaze shifted to beyond her, but there was no sign of Rath or Ivy outside the cabin. Yasmin had slipped away while they were inside. Trying to escape having an escort? Not going to happen. As little as he wanted to be around her right now, he pushed away from the tree and crossed the green to meet her.
She scowled at him. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re going somewhere.” He pinned her with a frown. “Otherwise your fine ass would be parked on the deck of Rath’s cabin. So, you get a babysitter. Sorry. You could always go back.”
She rolled her eyes, and then sighed, flicked a brief glance at him and hugged herself. She rubbed her arms through her thick jewel red woollen jumper. Someone hadn’t told her about wearing neutral, natural coloured clothing in the wild.
“They’re… ah… you know? Busy.” She shrugged and a touch of colour bloomed on her cheeks.
He really didn’t need to know that. He was fired up enough as it was, without the thought that Rath was getting it on with his mate adding to his torment.
“I thought I would take a look at the river.” She kept her eyes fixed on it as she lowered her voice and the pink stain on her cheeks darkened. “Give them five minutes, like.”
He wanted to say Rath was going to need more than five minutes, but held his tongue, because, damn, he wasn’t sure whether she would count that as flirting, and now that he was near her again, he didn’t want her turning on him and driving him away.
He wanted to be close to her.
Needed to be her escort, shadowing her and keeping an eye on her, because the thought of her wandering alone around the creek roused something inside him.
Something possessive.
Dangerous.
Flint scanned the clearing, singling out all the males to make sure they had their eyes elsewhere. Anywhere other than on Yasmin.
“I’m not a child, Flint. I don’t need a babysitter.” Her cool, soft voice tempered some of the fire in his veins, bringing it from a raging boil to a simmer, and he fixed his focus back on her as she walked beside him.
She smoothed her hair back with her right hand, hooking the waves behind her ear, revealing her profile to him. Her eyes leaped to him and then away, and he swore there was a shy edge to them, an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.
Because she was alone with him?
Or because Rath and Ivy were going at it like rabbits?
She didn’t strike him as the sort to be embarrassed about catching a couple in the act, but maybe she was, because she sure as hell couldn’t be blushing over being alone with him. She had made it clear she didn’t want him.
“I’m safe here,” she whispered, a little breathless, and he realised they had both stopped walking and she was staring up into his eyes, hers mesmerising dark pools flecked with bright gold that seemed to draw him in.
There was something magnetic about this female.
Dangerously alluring.
Her words registered as he stared down at her and an answer echoed in his mind.
She wasn’t safe. She was in as much danger here in the clearing as she was in the woods. Possibly more so.
He couldn’t help but notice the way she was drawing attention from the males and glances from the females. He could see why the females were wary of her, and he wished he couldn’t see why the males were interested.
She was beautiful though.
Sun-kissed skin, raven waves tumbling around her slender shoulders, and soulful dark eyes made for luring men to their doom. She was exotic, had him thinking of warmer climes whenever he looked at her, like rolling vineyards and hot dry air, and white painted buildings against an azure sky and turquoise ocean.
She made him ache for her.
Gods, it was a bad idea for her to stay during the gathering. He couldn’t agree with his brother on this one. They needed a medic, but the last thing they needed was another human around when the males were all fired up and feeling territorial.
He leaned closer to her, drawn towards her by a gravity he didn’t understand, one that had power over him he couldn’t break free from as she held his gaze.
His heart beat harder, drumming against his ribs, thundering so hard he felt dizzy as his blood rushed, hands shook and palms sweated. He curled his fingers into fists to stop them from trembling but couldn’t stop the feelings ricocheting through him as easily. They collided, tangled together into one undeniable need as Yasmin’s blush deepened.
And as she turned away from him, his gaze tracked her, locked on her with an intensity that startled even him as he put a name to his need.
As he shifted his gaze to fix on a male who was looking at her and stared him down when the male looked his way, silently challenging him to make an attempt on Yasmin, because he needed a fight and would gladly cut the male down to size.
Would kill him if it came to it.
Would do whatever it took to ensure that no other male touched her.
Because for the first time in all his years of attending gatherings, he was the one getting fired up and territorial.
And Yasmin was the reason for it.
He slid his eyes towards her, locked them on her back and noticed the subtle way her shoulders stiffened and her scent changed, becoming laced with the need he could feel in her—need that had awakened when she had been staring into his eyes.
She could fight that attraction all she wanted, could fight him too, but in the end, she would lose that battle she thought she would win.
He would make sure of it.
He had been about to give up on her, but now he was going to fight for her, and he wouldn’t stop until he conquered her and she finally surrendered to him.
She had come here prepared for a war.
He would give her one.
The trouble was, he wasn’t the only one declaring war this morning.
An unholy cacophony broke out, snarls and growls combining to ring loudly in the still morning air.
Flint swung towards the source of the sound, eyes widening as two males tumbled out of the woods near Ember’s riverside cabin.
Both in their cougar form.
He immediately moved in front of Yasmin, positioning himself so he was between her and the brawling cougars, holding his right arm out so she didn’t think about passing him. Not that she would. She was probably terrified, about to scream to high heaven about the fact there were two wild animals tearing each other apart in the middle of the creek and a crowd was gathering.
Not to shoot them or chase them away.
But to cheer them on.
He only had one word available, one syllable that summed up everything he was feeling in that moment as one of the males shifted back into his human form to grapple with his opponent, blood streaking his naked body as he wrestled the cougar to the ground, and Yasmin got a front row seat to a show that revealed the existence of his kind to her.
“Fuck.”
CHAPTER 5
“Fuck.” Flint’s uttered curse barely registered as the cougar rallied, sank long fangs into the man’s right shoulder and snarled as it ripped its head backwards, leaving long grooves in his flesh that rapidly spilled crimson.
The man went down.
Yasmin pushed past Flint and raced across the green, pulse accelerating as fast as her feet were as she closed the distance between her and the injured man.
The cougar leaped on him.
Oh no he didn’t.
Not on her watch.
She grabbed the beast by its scruff, hauled it off the man before it could do any more damage and tossed it across the green, sending it sprawling out on the grass near the river. It recovered instantly, shaking its head to clear it of her blow and growling as it set its sights on her.
Flint was immediately between her and the cougar, a snarl on his lips as he bared his teeth at the animal and held his hands out at his sides, forming a barrier the beast would have to breach to reach her.
The cougar shifted back and began pacing, keeping his eyes locked on Flint the entire time as he took agitated strides back and forth, his muscles coiled and ready. If the man thought to fight Flint, she was going to do more than toss him across the damned grass.
“What the fuck is going on?” Rath hollered as he sprinted across the clearing, his dark hair mussed and chest bare, and jeans barely fastened at his hips.
“Unsanctioned fight,” Flint replied, and shot his brother a look she fully understood.
He was silently telling Rath she had seen it.
Seen them in their cougar forms.
Yasmin tore her crimson sweater off and pressed it against the wound on the fallen man’s shoulder.
“Someone help me here!” she snapped and applied pressure as she did a visual check on the brunet.
He had a few more lacerations on his thigh and a couple of streaks across his chest, visible through the dense mat of hair. Bruises littered him, and she spotted another set of fang marks on his right forearm. The damned man Flint was holding at bay had really worked him over. It had hardly been a fair fight. That man had twice the build of the one she knelt beside.
She shot the man a glare, and then tossed one at Rath and Flint too when both of them failed to move, just stared at her as if she had grown two heads.
“Oh, by the gods, stop staring at me and get me my pack!” She put as much venom behind those words as she could, and it propelled Rath into action at least.
Flint continued to gape at her.
A silent question in his eyes.
Yes, was the answer.
Yes, she knew about immortals.
She knew because she was one.
Ivy exited the cabin before Rath could reach it, her chestnut hair bouncing with each step as she raced towards Yasmin, clutching the heavy backpack in her arms. Rath took it from her and swiftly crossed the distance between them. He set it down beside her and Yasmin glanced up at him.
His face was pale, drawn as he looked at the man and then her, worry shining in his grey eyes.
Because he feared the man would die or because he feared she was going to scream and tell everyone that cougar shifters existed?
She didn’t have time to explain, not right now. Later, she would set his mind at ease.
Maybe over a beer. She had the feeling she was going to need one.
“Keep pressure on here.” She reached across the man, grabbed Rath’s right arm and guided his hand to her bundled up jumper.
Rath nodded, shuffled around so he was on the man’s left side, and pressed both of his large hands to her makeshift bandage. The male groaned as Rath pressed down.
“Easy, Big Guy. Not too much pressure now,” she said and Rath eased off. She nodded when she was satisfied that he was applying just the right amount of pressure to stem the flow of blood, but stop him from hurting the man. “It’s possible something is broken, but he’ll heal it. We just need to focus on clearing any contaminants out of the wound and getting it stitched up.”
Rath nodded again and glanced up and to his right. Yasmin spared the man who had stopped there a glance too.
The blond one she had seen a few times from Rath’s deck, one who looked a lot like Rath and Flint.
“Cobalt, deal with the other one.”
The one called Cobalt nodded and pivoted on his heel, heading towards the man who was still pacing beyond Flint.
“Move it.” Cobalt roughly grabbed him by his arm and shoved him towards the woods.
Flint let out a low growl as the man dared to look back in her direction, and Yasmin had the feeling it wasn’t because the man still wanted to fight the injured one.
She had the feeling it was because he had looked at her.
She worked quickly to find the suture kits and bandages she had brought with her, and looked to Flint as he began pacing.
“I need water, fresh as you can get.” With her normal patients, she would have used something a little more powerful than water to clean the wounds, but she didn’t need to worry about that with the man she was treating. As long as she cleaned out any saliva and dirt, he would heal without a risk of infection.
Flint glanced at her, his eyes bright gold and a corona of forest green around his pupils, and looked as if he wouldn’t do as she had asked, but then he growled and paced away from her, heading towards the river and stopping only to take the vessel that a black-haired female from the cabin behind her kindly brought to him.
He returned with the glass pitcher filled to the brim and held it out to her. She took it with a smile and looked to Rath.
“He might struggle. I’ll need you to hold him down if he does.” She waited for Rath to nod before she looked at his hands. “You can remove that now.”
The moment he did, blood welled in the deep ragged wounds, seeping over the edges. She leaned over the man and carefully bathed them with the cold water.
The man roared and bucked up, and Yasmin dropped the pitcher and seized his shoulders to hold him down.
And Flint seized hers and pulled her right off him with an unholy snarl.
She shirked his fierce grip and pushed him back as she dropped to her knees again to help Rath as he struggled to hold the man down without hurting him further. The second she touched the man again, Flint roared and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her into the air as he bowed backwards.
She kicked her legs, wriggled and grunted as she tried to break free of his grip.
“Let me go!” She flailed her arms and he huffed as she managed to slam an elbow into his face.
Damn him.
She didn’t want to hurt him but no way she was going to let him stop her from treating the man. She didn’t understand what his problem was or why he was so hellbent on getting in her way.
“Calm the fuck down.” Cobalt’s deep snarl came from behind her.
Flint grunted and suddenly she was dropping to her feet. She flicked a glance at him as Cobalt repeatedly shoved him in his chest, forcing him to stumble backwards, away from her. His golden eyes met hers and he growled again as she went to kneel beside the man, a pained expression crossing his face for a heartbeat before his handsome features crumpled in confusion.
“Yasmin,” Rath muttered and she returned her focus to him and the injured man.
He continued to fight Rath’s hold, golden and white fur sweeping over his pink skin as he wrestled and growled. She kneeled near his waist and helped Rath hold him down by pressing her palms to his chest and his right hip.
“Calm down,” she murmured softly, letting him hear her voice as she focused on him, on helping him heal and soothing him, and shut out the rest of the world.
Flint included.
“Listen to my voice. You’re safe, but injured. I’m going to help you.” She focused harder on him when Flint roared, the sound cutting like a blade through the tense air and drawing her attention back to him.
The man’s golden eyes rolled open an
d then closed, and he bared his fangs.
“Jey.” Rath’s deep voice washed over her, smooth and calm, warm and rich. “Yasmin is going to fix your wounds. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Jey? Was that his name?
“I know you want to shift, Jey,” she whispered and glanced at the wound on his shoulder, one that was seeping blood again. “But you can’t right now. You need to relax and trust me… I’m a doctor.”
The corny line seemed to work, or maybe it was her powers manifesting and trickling into him.
She drew her hands away, severing the connection before she went too far, and sat back on her heels. She picked up the pitcher as Jey began to settle and frowned at the meagre amount of water left in it. It would be enough. They hadn’t covered the wound again since she had washed it out, so she only needed the water to wash the skin around the wounds more thoroughly before she began sewing the deep gashes closed.
“Hand me some of that.” She pointed to the packet of cotton wool. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.
Ivy hurried over to it and tore off a length, which she broke into two pieces. She handed it to Yasmin, and Yasmin dampened it and set to work. She focused on Jey again, shutting out all the people around her as they watched her with an air of expectation, or possibly anticipation, and Flint where he now prowled the fringe of the clearing, Cobalt blocking his way back to her.
As she worked to clean the wounds and as she used one of the suture kits to seal each one, she felt Flint’s eyes on her, intense and focused as he paced, his strides agitated and clipped. She could sense his frustration, his confusion, and his anger too.
She wasn’t sure what had set him off, why he had turned so violent and wild, and right now, she didn’t care.
Right now, all that mattered was helping Jey.
Because she didn’t want to think about what came after.
She risked a glance at Ivy and Rath as she finished sewing the final wound and wanted to linger over the other cuts the man bore, wanted to hide in them to avoid the questions she could feel coming.
But she wouldn’t.
She would never draw out treating someone, allowing them to suffer for her own personal gain.
Courted by her Cougar (Cougar Creek Mates Shifter Romance Series Book 3) Page 5
