by Lacey Thorn
Table of Contents
Title Page
Waking the Beast Copyright © 2014 Lacey Thorn
Book Description
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
About the Author
Also Available from Resplendence Publishing
www.ResplendencePublishing.com
Waking the Beast
An Awakening Pride Story
By Lacey Thorn
Resplendence Publishing, LLC
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com
Waking the Beast
Copyright © 2014 Lacey Thorn
Edited by Andrea Grimm and Venus Cahill
Cover Art by Les Byerley
Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118
Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-752-0
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Electronic Release: March 2014
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
The legend of the Paka Watu...
Ever since she was a young girl, Abby Lane can’t resist the allure of a cat shifter tribe forced to repress their beasts. On a trip to Africa, she discovers a coveted piece of information—the name the pride leader assumed when he left his home—and she traces his lineage to his descendent.
The sleeping lion...
Utah Pearce can’t keep his gaze off the woman who slips into the bar every night. Though not his usual type, she brings out the possessive instinct in him, making him battle with himself as he tries to stay away.
Mine...
Abby’s research never prepared her for the reality in front of her. The beast is waking, and Utah is changing in ways both exciting and terrifying. He is possessive and dominant, and when he finally claims her, neither of them will ever be the same.
This book came to me in a dream. I’ve wanted to write a series like this for a long time but couldn’t decide on the right storyline. Then I met Tah and Abby, and their story exploded in my head and demanded to be shared. I hope you love it as much as I do! Huge thanks to my beta reader, Melissa! She’s incredible, and I love her dearly!
Prologue
The Legend of the Paka Watu
Legend tells of a time when a tribe of nomadic people lived on the African plains. They were strong and fierce warriors, taking only what they needed from nature and always giving back. The Great Creator smiled down on the people and decided to give them a gift to show his pride in them.
Each member of the tribe would be blessed with a spirit guide who would share their form and allow them to shift at will from animal to man. They became the paka watu or cat people. The tribe leader accepted the spirit of the lion and lay the foundation for his pride. The spirits of great cats called to the people from far and wide, and the people opened their bodies offering refuge. They aligned with lions, tigers, panthers, jaguars, cheetahs, pumas, and leopards. All cat spirits who called found safe haven.
The great pride leader, with his lion spirit, guided his people with strength and cunning. They guarded the secret of the Creator’s gift from all others, understanding that jealousy and hatred could brew from those who had no such gifts. But there came a day when the jealousy and hatred brewed from within the people.
The gods found among the people a mabaya moja, or evil one, and denied him a spirit guide. His jealousy grew until it consumed him. In anger he rose up against the tribe and sought their destruction. The great lion spirit sentenced the evil one to banishment. His heart was heavy, for it wasn’t just anyone he sent away. It was his eldest son who was denied by the gods. The boy was consumed with a rage and hate his father had not realized was there.
And the lion waited and watched, always on guard against the mabaya, sensing he would return.
Then they came, with weapons of death and torture, the wawindaji kubwa nyeupe, or great white hunters, led by the mabaya moja. The pride leader fought valiantly to save his people, but they were outnumbered. His roar split the heavens when he fell under the weight of many spears, helpless to save his pride as he lay broken and dying. Many of his pride fell with him that day, and their spirits cried out to the Creator who took mercy on them and sent chaos among the hunters, scattering them from his people.
The pride leader’s youngest son, Tau, watched as the enemy fled. Then he searched among the dead and dying, finding his father there. He let his animal guide lead him and shifted from man to lion, so both could mourn the loss. He poured out his grief to the heavens, his roar shaking the earth as he expressed his sorrow and anger. Then the night filled with the growls of many cats as the remaining pride joined him. The Great Creator came to him in the night and told Tau what must be done.
When morning came, Tau went to his pride with a heavy heart and explained how the paka watu must no longer be. It wasn’t safe for them to remain. To save the spirits that guided them, they must do the unthinkable. They must sing their spirit guides into a deep sleep. The remaining pride members would flee to different parts of the world, finding solace in blending with those around them.
Tau began chanting the words whispered to him in the night as his pride stood quietly and waited. Each could feel their guides fading deeper and deeper inside them, until they were but the warmth of memory in their chests. With hearts broken from sorrow, they bid each other safari ya salama, safe journey. Each took a different path, walking alone on a voyage that would see them spread across the earth. To protect them, the passage of time would allow the knowledge of what slept within them to fade away.
But there was hope still in their hearts. For the Creator promised a time would come when one who bears the mark of the beast would search out the new Tau. The marked one would wake the beast, and the pride would rise again. There would even be those sent by the gods to watch over them, generation to generation, offering guidance and protection when most needed.
But as with most things, there would be challenges as well. The hunters, though scattered, would never forget the paka watu and what they represented. With each new generation, they would seek to destroy the descendents, in hopes the Tau would never awaken.
Perhaps they should have searched for the one carrying the mark of the beast instead.
Chapter One
From the journal of Abby Lane
I found the best story ever today when looking through old books in my mom’s office. I’m hoping she won’t notice it missing, until I get the time to devour every word. It tells of the African legend of the paka watu. Cat people! I can’t believe it! Since I first discovered ailuranthropy, I wondered why I found them so enchanting. Most girls my age don’t care about things like werecats. They’d laugh at me if they knew about my obsession.
I swear I feel a singing in my blood just holding the book. The more I read, the louder it is. I celebrated, crie
d, raged, and finally mourned with them. I try to tell myself it is just a story, but my heart screams differently. I wish I was one of them. What must it feel like to be able to shift into the shape of a lion or tiger? Is that burning in my blood my spirit awakening?
Tonight I will dream of them, I just know it. I love them. I will keep them in my prayers from now on. I pray I find them some day.
* * * *
Abby woke slowly, her head aching as the taste of sawdust coated her tongue and mouth, making her gag. The room was fuzzy, and she panicked until she realized her glasses were missing. She patted around the floor where she lay and found a warm body, a warm naked body, or at least the part she was touching.
She pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned and thankfully hit her missing glasses. They skittered over the floor, and she lifted up to crawl after them, expelling her held breath as she touched them and brought them to her face. Her panic only grew as the room came into blessed clarity. She was in a cell, and she wasn’t alone.
She glanced at the man she’d touched, and when she noted most of his clothes were missing, leaving him in a snug pair of black boxer briefs, she quickly took inventory of herself. Thank God, she was still fully clothed in her jeans and T-shirt with the loose hoodie over the top. So, why was the guy with her naked? And where the hell were they?
She focused back on the man, looking closely and gasping with surprise. Her pulse quickened when she took in the bold lion’s head tattoo on his side beneath his right pectoral. There was only one man who had that. Utah Pearce. Tah to his friends.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
What had she done? Why was she here? Why was he here? And why did she have an eerie feeling this had everything to do with her and the research she’d been doing on therianthropy, or more specifically her love of ailuranthropy?
She heard footsteps coming toward them and moved quickly back to where she had been lying earlier. Her eidetic memory would ensure she was in the same position as before; the only change was that her glasses were now hidden under her mass of hair where she could easily grab them again.
“They’re still out.”
The voice was gruff, masculine, and if she wasn’t mistaken had a bit of the south in it. Not deep south. He didn’t live there, but he’d spent some time there recently, and long enough that it had left a mark on his speech.
“I thought you said they would be waking up soon.” This voice was nasally, whiney.
“I said they should be waking up soon. The girl’s small. I didn’t give her much of the drug, but who knows. He’ll be out for a bit longer. I gave him enough to down a lion.”
They both snickered at this as if it were some big joke, and the nauseous feeling she’d woken up to only grew.
“We’ll give ‘em another hour,” Southy stated.
She remained as still as possible, though she felt as if she were close to shaking apart as they began walking away. She listened to the sound of their retreating steps. One of them wore boots; her money was on Southy as she’d dubbed him. Whiney was probably wearing the squeaky shoes she heard.
She counted to one hundred after their footsteps faded then sat up quickly, shoving her glasses back on as she crawled over to Utah.
“Utah,” she whispered as loud as she could, leaning close to his face as she shook him as fiercely as she could. He was a huge guy at six foot five. She had no idea how much he weighed, but it topped her hundred twenty by at least a hundred pounds, probably more. “Utah, you have to wake up. Oh God, if there were ever a time I needed you to be the great Tau, it’s now. Wake up!”
He groaned and the sound seemed to echo in the room. She quickly glanced around, praying, even as she listened for the sound of returning footsteps. She did her best to shush him, placing her hands over his mouth as she whispered in his ear. “Shhh, Utah.”
She almost squeaked when he jerked her to him, cupping her ass through her jeans. His nose buried in her neck, and she felt his growing erection.
Holy shit! Utah was big all over.
“Utah.” His name came out in a hiss as he rubbed himself against her.
“Give me a second, baby. Let me wake up, and I’ll make you feel good.”
She couldn’t help the snort of disbelief that left her lips. Men like Utah didn’t make women like her feel good. Not sexually anyway. She was so far from the tall buxom types he was fond of that it was laughable. But, oh God, feeling him against her, she really wished she was his type.
Instead, she lay in his grip and watched as he blinked his eyes open. The dark brown orbs widened as he took her in, and she knew by the dip in his smile when he’d placed her.
“Uh, Abby? What are you doing here?”
Yeah, guys like Utah didn’t do girls like Abby and wasn’t that a shame. She bet she’d be awesome in bed if she had a lover like Utah.
“Abby?”
She shook her less than moral thoughts from her mind and focused on what she should—figuring out where they were and how the hell to get out.
“Utah,” she whispered his name softly. “We need to stay quiet. I don’t want the men to come back.”
He shifted his gaze around. “There are other people here?” He eased her off him and that glorious erection and sat up. He rocked a bit, and she put her shoulder against his side as if she could hold him up by will alone if he started to fall over.
“Whoa. What the fuck? How much did I have to drink?” He held his head as he slowly looked around. “And where the fuck are we?”
“I don’t know.”
He glanced at her, and she felt his eyes taking her measure. For a brief moment, she wished he saw her as more than the nerdy girl who hung out at the bar surrounded by her papers as she munched on nachos and coke. Hell, she didn’t even drink. But she knew all too well what he was seeing. Abby Lane with her unruly mop of curls and faded blue eyes hidden behind the glasses she couldn’t see without. His gaze dropped to her hoodie and baggy jeans, but she dressed for comfort, not to impress. At least, that’s what she told herself.
“Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, Abby.” His eyes pleaded with her, reflecting the hope in his voice.
“You didn’t touch me,” she assured him and swore the relief in his eyes didn’t hurt her pride at all.
He slowly stood up, seemingly not the slightest bit awkward to find himself in only his underwear and sporting some serious wood. Or at least he hadn’t been uncomfortable until he caught her gawking at it.
Jesus, please don’t let her be drooling!
“Ummm, Abby.”
Her gaze slid back up to his, as he leaned down offering her his hand to stand up.
“I need your help here. I’m afraid I’m a little fuzzy. What happened last night? Why are we in a cell?”
She sighed and prayed he didn’t see the guilt in her eyes. She was afraid this was all her fault.
“I’m not sure. I woke up a little before you did. I heard two men talking about giving us some type of drug to knock us out.”
“What the fuck? I’m sorry, Abby. I know I’ve pissed people off. I didn’t think any of them would do anything like this. Was I giving you a ride home or something? Is that how you got dragged into this?”
She shook her head. “The last I remember I was already home.”
Utah stretched and flexed, rotating his shoulders and neck as he worked out any kinks from waking on the hard floor. She couldn’t help admiring the muscles he sported under the creamy café au lait shade of his skin. Had he achieved it from tanning or was it natural? She wanted to think it was natural, that if she tugged those short black boxer briefs off, he’d be just as tan there.
She watched him pace the cell like a caged beast and fell right back into the surge of guilt she was struggling to repress. He thought he was the one who’d pulled her into this. She was sure this was all her fault. Especially when Southy and Whiney had made the lion comment.
Her gaze flickered to his tattoo. She did have a fondness fo
r lions, despite her history. Her hand automatically rubbed her side.
“Hello?” Utah’s voice yelled out, echoing around them as Abby’s eyes darted about in panic.
“Oh, God. Don’t do that! Don’t bring them back. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”
He glanced over at her. She wasn’t sure what he saw, but he reached her side in two steps and wrapped her tight against his chest once more.
“Damn, Abby. You’re shaking like a leaf. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
“You have to listen to me,” she began, but her words died off as she heard the distinct sound of the two men from earlier returning. And someone was with them.
“I thought you got the girl too.”
Two things went through her head at the sound of that voice. Utah’s much bigger body must be shielding her from their view, and she knew that voice.
Oh, God. This was all her fault. She should have never kept digging, searching for answers she had no right to want. She’d brought this on Utah, and no matter which way things turned out, he might never forgive her for it.
Utah turned, keeping her behind him as he faced the men.
“What the hell is going on here? Why are we locked up in here?”
“Abby, you in there, girl?”
She was too terrified to respond when Utah turned around to look at her with powerful arms crossed over his chest and brows lifted in question.
“Abby?” His voice rumbled from his chest as he watched her. “I thought you didn’t know where we are?”
“I don’t,” she swore, but she didn’t blame him for doubting her.
“No one likes a liar. You’ll have to excuse her.” The cell door opened as he continued talking. “I’m Harlan Jones by the way. Abby and I are family.” He laughed and the sound sent a chill down her spine. “I swear, she’d forget her head if it wasn’t attached. Scatter brained. That’s my Abby.”
