Savage Exile: Lion Hearts Book Five

by Lane, Cecilia

  Savage Exile

  Lion Hearts Book Five

  Cecilia Lane

  A Shifting Destinies Novel

  Copyright © 2020 by Cecilia Lane

  Cover Art by Kasmit Covers

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Savage Exile: Lion Hearts #5 by Cecilia Lane October 2020

  Contents

  Savage Exile

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Newsletter

  About the Author

  Also by Cecilia Lane

  Savage Exile: Lion Hearts Book Five

  He can’t save himself, but he’ll save her…

  Rhys is a disaster: too violent for his old pride, and more accustomed to using his fist instead of his words. He’s managed to carve out a place among the Crowley lions, but his temper still rides him hard. The only balm is Sage, a shattered woman with a core of fire. He wants to bring it out of her. Can he avoid getting burned?

  She’s tired of living under her father’s thumb…

  Sage narrowly escaped a forced mating, but she can’t quite manage to pick up the pieces. Except when she’s around Rhys. The rumbly lion makes her ache for something more. But good things don’t last for Sage, and her father’s demand she return to the man who bought her cuts her to her core.

  Can a broken woman find redemption in the arms of her disaster of a mate? Or will old wounds and enemies be too strong for even the toughest lions to overcome?

  Savage Exile, a steamy paranormal romance, is book five in the Lion Hearts series. For readers who love a broken alpha hero willing to gamble everything on a second chance with a woman learning to live on her own terms.

  * * *

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  Chapter 1

  The blast of a rifle cracked through the night, echoing through the mountains and carrying the sound of disaster to his ears.

  Rhys Chapman threw himself out of bed. His bones were already snapping apart by the time his feet hit the floor. His entire body shuddered with the shift that ripped through him. The fourth of the day. Night. Who the fuck knew anymore? He sure as hell couldn’t tell the difference with the hours and days running together.

  He had to get to her before they did.

  Instincts riding him hard, he slammed a paw against the door he’d left ajar. The wood banked against the wall, but he was already through the opening and crowding down the hallway. His shoulders brushed against the sides, making him feel as trapped as if he’d been caught in a squeeze chute like the poor cows on the ranch.

  Ranch? Cows?

  Rhys barreled through the doors of his den, not giving one ounce of attention to the wince of confusion. He hit the night and paused long enough to drag down the cold February air. The tip of his tail twitched just as the crunch of paws on snow reached his ears. He couldn’t let the fuckers get to her.

  He put on a burst of speed, lunging forward as far as his leaping strides would carry him. And still, it wasn’t fast enough. The extra seconds were death to them both. He could already feel his heart breaking apart, the same as his mind. He knew—absolutely knew—he’d find her with blood staining her clothes and seeping into the ground underneath her.

  He slowed only when a barn loomed in the night. Deep breaths brought the scents of the night into his nose and lungs. Baked earth overwhelmed. Lions. Lots of lions. He wanted to trust, but they’d betrayed him before. And with the crack of the gun...

  Grimly, he crouched low and eased forward. Danger prickled along his spine, especially when he spotted movement from the corner of his eye. His heart jumped into his throat as he bolted for the hunter daring to tread through his territory.

  He had to get to her before they did. He had to kill them before they killed her.

  He jumped for the attacker and drove his claws deep into his haunches to drag him to the ground. The beast roared with pain and rage, but Rhys didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. He had to keep her safe and alive. He couldn’t fail her.

  Her?

  Two faces floated through his head, overlapping and coming apart and swirling together again. Green eyes layered overtop blue. Auburn hair and strawberry blonde mixed in the kaleidoscope playing out against the back of his lids each time he blinked. Full lips, pert noses, a beauty mark below her right eye that was there and gone.

  More enemies melted out of the shadows. He should have known he wouldn’t be alone.

  The lion in his grasp wiggled out from under his claws and bolted. Rhys took off after him, giving his back to the others. Their grunts and growls weren’t far behind, but he didn’t pay them any attention. His target was right there, so close, almost within his grasp.

  He’d save her this time.

  The bastard whirled on him and raked claws down one side of his face, narrowly missing an eye. Rhys roared with fury as he slammed to a stop and twisted to meet the attack that never came. Instead, the lion joined the other assholes.

  They circled him. Sized him up, more likely. Gold eyes judged where best to apply pressure to take him down. Too bad he’d played this game since birth.

  He struck first, twisting to the side and swiping a paw into the nearest face, then whipping around for another. Never staying in one place longer than it took to land a blow, Rhys spun and kept up the attack on all sides. His survival depended on it. Hers, too.

  Claws latched into his haunches. His shoulders. Blood dripped and flowed, staining the snow that slowly turned to mud. Another lion threw himself over his back to drive him down to the ground while the others yanked him around. Rhys shook them off, only to have them attack all over again, slowly closing the ring around him until he couldn’t take a step without bumping into another male. A roar ripped out of his chest when he went to the ground, and they piled over his bulky frame.

  Cornered. Fucking cornered. His mouth opened with his heavy, panicked pants, blowing clouds into the night air.

  Was that how she’d felt in her last moments? Did she go out knowing there was nowhere to turn, no chance to run, no one there to save her?

  “Easy,” a voice whispered in his ear. “Easy.”

  Pressure built in his middle and threatened to cave in his skull. He snarled, the noise promising death to anyone that sto
od between him and the rest of the fucks trying to hurt her.

  Rhys bucked against the bodies thrown across his own trying to hold him down. Drowning him, really. They tried to hold him under until he was forced to obey.

  He was the son of an alpha. He gave the commands.

  “Shit,” the voice growled. “Where’s the tranq gun?”

  One final lurch threw off her attackers, and he twisted his feet under his huge body. A white paw sliced through the darkness and connected with one of the hunters too slow to get away. A scream followed, pain rushing down on the fucker, but Rhys wasn’t finished. He wanted more. Needed blood on his tongue, staining his fur, coating his claws. A slow death like the one they’d given her.

  “No.”

  The soft whisper cut through the fury that gripped him, and stopped him in his tracks faster than the alpha orders or whimpering of the hunters. He knew he looked like one of those pointer dogs with one paw lifted off the ground in anticipation of his next stalking step.

  He rolled his eyes to find the source of the voice, half expecting to see a ghost fluttering at the edge of his vision. The reality was worse. Green eyes cut through the darkness from where she stood on her back porch. One hand covered her mouth, the other raised and outstretched in a plea for the violence to stop.

  He locked eyes with Hannah. No. Green. Green belonged to Sage.

  Mate.

  He’d had a mate.

  He had a mate.

  Two sentences, nearly identical, and both driving him completely fucking insane.

  His lion lurched forward again. He had to get to her. Had to save her.

  A big male stepped between him and the haunting vision of Sage. Rhys’s lips peeled back in a silent snarl as all the previous rage flooded back through his system.

  Asshole. Motherfucker. His mouth watered for the taste of the bastard’s blood. He’d rip him apart, the same as he’d done to the others. They hadn’t stood a chance once he had their scent in his nose.

  Life for life. It was only fair.

  “Shift back,” the male growled. “Now.”

  The words were no longer asking. They were issued as a command that he was expected to obey. Some part of him shuddered under the order. Another resisted with a surprising strength. He balanced on a knife’s edge, the agony he’d denied before ripping through him. His joints ached like he’d lived out a thousand years in the span of a few minutes. His muscles didn’t want to hold him upright. Even his bones complained and felt like crumbling to dust. And the air? The light breeze on his fur was enough pressure to make his eyes water.

  The man shouldered a rifle and fixed him in his sights. Rhys fought through the pain and foggy need to obey to bunch his feet under him. A growl rolled out of his chest, promising death to the fucker. He’d probably get a shot off, but they’d go out together.

  Rhys pushed off the ground with a roar just as a dart jabbed into his chest.

  The sedative hit his system, and dispersed quickly. His target stepped out of the way, and he landed on the ground to take one stumbling step before faltering to his side.

  “Fuck me,” Lindley grunted. He held his side, but blood still seeped through his fingers. “I’m slashing his tires if I need stitches.”

  Trent. Lindley. Right. If he could twist around, he knew he’d see Dash, too. They were his pride, now. Not the old memories that haunted him from clear across the country.

  A dream. It’d just been another dream.

  And a fuckton of insanity.

  He rolled his eyes past the others to land on the green-eyed ghost. She still stood on her back steps, one hand covering her mouth. He couldn’t see her eyes or smell her properly over the fur and cold mud, but he had a hunch she was in utter shock.

  Everyone knew the path he barreled down. To see it firsthand was something else entirely. If he’d had his way, Sage would never have played witness to such fucking stupidity.

  She’d traded one batshit lion pride for another.

  His lion sank down inside him with a roar that turned to a helpless mewl.

  What did she do? What the hell did she do to pull him off the hunt? Who the hell was she?

  Lindley’s sister. Kyla’s friend. Sold to Jasper Crowley by her own fucking father. Those were the obvious connections. Shame coursed through him. Nine days. That was how long he held it together since she’d arrived. Nine fucking days was all he managed before boiling over into insanity.

  And then she’d stopped him from hurting the others.

  She deserved a better hand than she’d been dealt.

  “Let’s get him down to the cave.”

  Trent’s defeated words were the last thing Rhys heard before darkness consumed him.

  Chapter 2

  A loud guffaw jerked Sage Levine’s attention back to the table. Scents and sounds threatened to overwhelm her momentarily before dying down to a more manageable input. The mouthwatering smell of smoked meats dominated the air and the clink of silverware scraping against plates made her ears ring.

  Focus.

  Fur brushed against the back of her mind, but her inner animal slipped away before she could grab hold. Her heart pounded against her breastbone, but… no. No, her lioness wasn’t locked away. She was simply hiding. Had been for nearly two weeks now.

  “You’re full of shit,” Lindley snorted.

  “Oh yeah?” Dash drawled. “I grew up on spicy food. Mémé’s gumbo would make you cry like a baby.”

  Sage forced herself to relax. A silent, long exhale unclenched her fists and eased the tension out of her shoulders. There wasn’t a threat. No one was coming to put the collar back around her neck. She was fine. Fine. Absolutely fine.

  The word was beginning to sound fake and made up from her insistence.

  Lindley pushed to his feet. Sage tracked him all the way to the bar where he pulled aside the intimidatingly bearded owner, Kenny. The man shot a look to their table, shook his head, then disappeared into the kitchen, only to return a moment later.

  Lindley took the box in his hands with a gracious nod, then made his way back. Trying to keep a smug smile off his face, he dumped the box right in front of Dash.

  “Where did those come from?” Kyla asked with a shocked laugh.

  “Kenny’s experimenting with making his own hot sauce for the wings.” Lindley shrugged and turned back to Dash. “Twenty bucks says you can’t choke down ten habanero peppers.”

  The wild lion grinned like a madman. “Fuckin’ watch me.”

  The Crowley alpha hung his head in his hands. “Would you two act like grown men instead of unruly preteens?”

  Crowley. The name shuddered down Sage’s spine. Right on the heels came the reminders she wanted to tattoo to the back of her eyelids. Trent wasn’t Jasper. Hailey wasn’t like any of the females she knew from her father’s pride or sold into Jasper’s consortium. And all the others were good, honorable lions.

  Dash popped a pepper into his mouth, then pointed to his alpha. “Suck farts, you old geezer.”

  On Trent’s other side, Hailey choked back a laugh. When he turned a betrayed look her way, she widened her eyes and held up her hands. “What? It was funny!”

  “You can suck farts, too,” Trent muttered.

  Well, they were mostly good. More honorable than bad, though they’d probably pop off with a string of cusses and down sixteen beers apiece just to refute the claim. She’d needed roughly ten hours to understand that much about them, and stood by the observation thirteen days later.

  Her first night out with the pride had done nothing to change her mind.

  They were a wild bunch, with Dash in the clear lead for mouthiest, craziest troublemaker. Trent pretended not to give a shit about the others, but backed up his surly words with caring actions such as giving a wayward lioness a place to call home. Hailey was a sweetheart, but Sage recognized the steely glint in her eyes—the human would pull a knife if any of ‘her’ pride were threatened.

  And then there was Rhy
s.

  Sage glanced down to the end of the table. The man turned his face at that exact moment, leaving her with the impression that he’d been looking right at her with dark blue eyes that reminded her of the deepest parts of the ocean.

  He stood taller than any of the others, though not by much. His shoulders spanned wider, too, which was much more noticeable. Quiet, until he wasn’t, and then everyone needed to watch out.

  A single image flashed through her head. White against the inky darkness, scarred and dangerous. Silver eyes dead with all recognition. A shiver worked down her spine and goose bumps pebbled her skin. A quick flick of her eyes found the man sipping at his beer and watching the show.

  She couldn’t explain why she’d thrown out her hand and whispered a plea for him to stop, other than she felt her insides breaking apart. Even her cat balked at the thought, roaring to life with a suddenness that made Sage jerk straight. She told herself it was to keep the Crowley pride intact, a desire to avoid a repeat of the in-fighting she’d witnessed her entire life. Better to think of it in that way than give any other possibility consideration.

  Deep in her head, her lioness stirred. A slow unfurling, a stretching of her claws. The beast wanted something Sage could barely even think about, let alone give her.

  In the end, the fighting had been for nothing. Lindley shifted and shook off the worst of his injuries. Rhys lived to see another day, though he’d been carted off for a timeout in the cave deep in Crowley territory.