Strange, puzzling man. She’d watched him fight. That chaotic energy could wipe out a lion pride if he somehow gained the top position. On the other hand, he was a gentle giant when it came to any of the females. Vicious, caring, curious man...
He bent once more, then slowly dragged his shirt over his head. His palms flattened over his chest and skimmed down, straightening out the lumps of fabric and making her wish she could feel the hard muscles he touched. When he reached his waist, he wrapped his fingers under the hem and tugged the rest into place.
Power rolled off him in waves. Even as the show came to a close and he stuffed his feet into his work boots and yanked hard on the laces, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her lioness prowled through her, watching, testing the air, consuming him from a distance.
When he straightened, he shoved his hair away from his face and stared at her for several loaded moments before turning and striding into the darkness.
Sage collapsed against the tree trunk the moment he disappeared from sight. Her limbs were languid and heavy like she’d had the best sex of her life. Watching Rhys took the top spot in her hottest, dirtiest experiences. Nothing made sense. He hadn’t touched her. Hell, he’d put his clothes on. And yet...
And yet she was still a work in progress. Just a scared, fragile little bird who flitted away at the first sign of danger. She’d give just about anything to be a normal woman with a normal life. She’d been broken down to nothing and didn’t know how to get back on her feet.
And yet her lioness panted inside her. The beast didn’t move an inch toward taking her skin, but she was there. Real. Sage could just about feel her fur sliding against her fingers as the cat paced back and forth, staring after Rhys.
Chapter 17
Rhys stared at the door to Trent’s den. Spots dotted his shirt from the cold rain he’d sprinted through to reach the safety of the covered porch. Umbrellas balanced on their pronged sides, wobbling now and again when the breeze caught them just right. By their number and the voices inside, he was the last to arrive.
He’d managed to stay away all night and all day. Not an easy feat with his lion riding him hard and snarling that he kept his distance. Sleep had been nonexistent, it’d been a miracle to make it through the day without killing any of the others, and he’d wanted to douse himself in a cold shower every six minutes, but he kept that fingernail of control over his inner beast.
Right up until he scented juniper and rainfall on the porch.
He couldn’t get the night out of his head. Her eyes, stroking down his body. Her scent in his nose. Even with claws at his throat, he wouldn’t have been able to explain why he shifted instead of grabbing his things in his teeth and stalking away. Slowing down and making a show out of dressing was just as inexplicable.
His lion shoved forward with enough strength to stagger him in place. Rhys grunted and shoved back on the sendings the beast flashed through his head. Sage, stepping around the scrawny little tree she’d hidden behind. Walking toward him. Splaying her hands over his chest.
The images weren’t based in reality, but he wanted to turn them from fiction into fact.
He’d had a mate.
He had a mate.
Fuck. Rhys let off a short growl. Those dueling sentences crawled through his mind and left him more ragged and unsteady than ever.
Breathing hard, cold long forgotten, he reached for the handle.
Noise erupted around him as soon as he stepped through the door. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and took in the pride with a quick glance. The den wasn’t big and made for a tight fit with everyone stuffed inside. Cozy, he supposed Hailey would call it. It was a sign of her trust and Trent’s good mood that they’d been allowed inside at all. Most pride gatherings took place outside, with everyone adding tables and chairs to discourage any property damage when a brawl inevitably broke out.
Hailey held court in the kitchen, waving a spoon like a scepter as she ordered Kyla to pull out the batch of enchiladas from the oven. Dash and Colette dutifully moved plates and silverware from their homes to the counter, before Dash jabbed at his mate with a fork. She rolled her eyes at him with moderately believable disdain, then clacked her own fork against his like a fencing pro. Trent scowled at the racket and turned back to his conversation with Lindley. Lilah passed Seth the last of some beer bottles to fit inside a cooler, then both joined the alpha and the second.
“Rhys!” Hailey shouted over the noise. “You’re right on time!”
Of them all, Sage had his complete attention.
She’d gone quiet in the days since her father’s delightful fucking house call. Not that he’d expected anything else. All the fear she’d kept locked away had spilled over into absolute terror.
Her father wasn’t the only cause of frayed nerves, either. He’d misstepped at the bar, if he tried to be charitable with himself. Fucked up, if he wanted to be honest. They hadn’t even talked about what that kiss meant—or the fact that she’d shoved him away.
So he sat back and watched, just as he’d done for eight months trying to figure her out and pick apart what his lion wanted with her. The beast coiled inside him, patience waning and claws pricking him each time she moved, but Rhys held strong. Stayed back. The little cat needed space to find her feet.
The first days were quiet, as if she’d turned in on herself. That he wasn’t the only one iced out didn’t soothe him much. Worry had churned in his gut, but he didn’t sense any panic or despair in her.
After that, he noticed her initiating more often. For months, Kyla and the others had been the ones to drag her out of her den. She’d dutifully followed them as they committed shenanigans and hijinks, but always stayed at the outer edges. She still wasn’t as wild as the others, but she went and knocked on doors to hang out almost as often as the others prodded her into socializing.
And then, of course, came her late night peep show.
Not even a full day since he’d found her alone in the darkness, and all his heated desires returned in full force. They were wrong. Greedy. A man like him didn’t deserve one mate, let alone two, but his lion prowled and panted for a taste of her. The good sense to keep away to avoid hurting her melted away under bright, sultry eyes watching him from the darkness.
“Time to eat!” Kyla called out.
Sage hung back while the others jostled for position in line. Even then, she didn’t immediately move from her seat. Only when the line started moving and the first couple made it back to their seats with full plates did she take up her spot at the end.
Rhys pushed off the door and stalked after her. He couldn’t help himself. Not in the slightest. She pulled at him like a magnet.
His lion rumbled inside him. His gums ached with every inhale of her sweet scent. She was right there, close enough to make the eyes that had watched him into something he could feel against his skin.
Rhys crowded close behind her as soon as she reached for a plate.
Shifters ran hot, but nothing like Sage. Heat rolled off her body and roasted him through his clothes. His lion wanted nothing more than to rub and twist around that source of warmth, and Rhys didn’t stop him. The memory of her eyes on him, her heart sounding like thunder in the night, brought the parts of him he thought long dead roaring back to life. He couldn’t ignore his lion’s urge to get close to her, or his own to strip her down as slowly as she’d watched him dress.
He snaked an arm around her to snag his own plate, bending close enough to rumble in her ear, “Did you like what you saw?”
She froze, then set her plate down with slow deliberation. Her hands pressed to the counter on either side as her sides expanded and contracted with shallow breaths. She dragged down a deep, steadying breath, then turned to face him.
Her eyes roved up his chest and locked with his. Fire flared in the green depths. Did she have any idea how bright they looked? Right that moment? The night before? He could practically feel himself tanning under the light.
R
ed flushed over her cheeks. Her lips parted on a sharp breath and, for a second, he had the overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss her again.
One heartbeat skipped right into the next, the thud picking up speed as her throat worked with a hard swallow. He kept his eyes locked on hers even as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Juniper and rain flooded his nose, soft and sweet and thickening by the second. Even the sounds of the others faded away to nothing with her breath in his ears.
Sage let her lids fall closed, then peeked through her lashes. Breath almost in a pant, she tried twice before choking out, “Ye—yes.”
Smirk hitching up a corner of his mouth, he stepped back. Something uncertain flickered across her face before she twisted back around, fixed her plate, and scurried out of the kitchen.
He watched her as she picked her way back to her spot on the outskirts.
Tightening his grip on his inner beast, Rhys fished out two cold beers from the cooler wedged in a corner. Juniper and night rain had him by the scruff and he gave himself over to the trail. Not like he had a choice. By design or sheer fucking coincidence, the only remaining spot of actual seating was on the couch and right next to Sage.
“Here,” he said, holding out a bottle.
Sage flicked a glance up to him, but didn’t take the offered drink. “What’s that for?”
He shrugged. “You looked thirsty.”
Cautiously, as if she feared he’d jump at her, she reached for the bottle. “Thank you.”
His fingers brushed against hers and sent a jolt down his spine. Heat spread through him all over again at the single touch, but he didn’t press. He took a seat on the couch next to her, knees knocking together and shoulders slumped to give her space.
He should have made space for himself elsewhere. Taken a seat on the floor, maybe thrown a punch to clear a place at the table. Anywhere but right there, next to a woman with her heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s.
No way in fuck his lion would have let him go anywhere but to her side.
“You’re a little spy.”
Sage’s eyes went wide and red flashed over her cheeks. “What?” she choked. She swept a not-so-subtle look around the room. “Don’t say that.”
There it was, that brief flash of fire. She couldn’t stay invisible when her eyes blazed bright, and he couldn’t stop himself from making her light up.
“No one is listening,” he said in a low voice. He followed her glance. The others were busy stuffing their faces or engaged in their own conversations. That was the small benefit of a bunch of fucking loudmouths; the noise gave them their own private bubble in the middle of all the chatter. “Besides, I liked it just as much as you did.”
Her scent twisted around him, gradually thickening into the sweetest temptation. His fingers itched to cross the space between them and drag along her skin. He’d tasted her once; he wanted to do it again.
She set her fork down entirely and stared at her shoes. Her hair shifted forward, almost hiding her face.
Fuck. He’d pushed too hard. Prodded her into silence. She was disappearing again right before his eyes.
He needed to go easy. There was a balance to maintain. Too much, too fast, and she’d burn up completely.
As if he knew what easy was anymore.
Sage tucked her hair behind her ears. Her cheeks were still flushed, but a challenge brightened the eyes she turned on him. “Are you going to tell?”
“Never,” he swore, voice thick with a growl. He canted his head and watched her for a beat, then added, “I never told them what you said when I walked you home all those months ago. Your secrets have always been safe with me.”
Sage leaned back. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She weighed his words against her memories and tested the truth in the air. He meant every damn syllable.
He’d had a mate.
Sage wasn’t Hannah, and he wasn’t the man he’d been with her. He couldn’t take the same steps and expect Sage to fall into his lap.
He had a mate.
Sage demanded his attention the same way as Hannah. She deserved someone in her corner. Not part-time or when danger reared its head. She needed someone there. Always.
He didn’t know if he was that person. He didn’t know if he’d make it to the next year without tipping past the point of no return. But right then, that moment, he knew he had to try. For her.
Trust was the first step.
“Who wants to go on a run?” Lilah asked over the noise.
“I’d love to,” Kyla answered immediately. “Colette? Dash?”
Colette snorted a laugh. “I’ll go, but this one won’t join us.” Her voice turned sickly sweet and she reached to scratch under her mate’s chin. “Hims doesn’t like mud on his pawsies.”
“Laugh it up,” Dash griped. “But guess who never tracks mud into the den? That’s right, this paragon of cleanliness.”
Lilah rolled her eyes. “Rhys? Sage?”
Rhys flicked a glance in their direction, then brought his focus back on Sage. “I’m with Dash on this. Nothing worse than muddy paws and a soggy mane.”
“See?” Dash said, pointing. “Even the crazy one knows what’s right. Have fun in your cold rain. I’ll be nice and cozy inside.”
“Babies,” Kyla laughed.
And still, Sage watched him.
They were the last ones out the door, leaving Hailey and Trent alone on the other side. The other pairs were in the process of disappearing into their dens or already dancing in the rain on four paws.
She reached for her umbrella, but he was faster. He hoisted it up between them, then slashed his eyes in the direction of her den.
Cautiously, Sage took the first step off the porch. Rhys moved right along with her, staying at her side for the second and third.
Then they were in the mud and stepping away from the others.
Rhys matched his stride to hers, and was surprised at how little he needed to change his steps to keep next to her. Some long forgotten sense unfurled inside him, whispering how that was how it was supposed to be.
His lion, too, stretched through him. There weren’t any pricks from his claws or restless prowling. Sendings flashed, and there was only contentment in the images of fingers tangled in his mane.
“You didn’t need to walk me home,” she said when they mounted her porch. “I could have made it this far.”
“I wanted to. Is that so bad?” He shook most of the water from the umbrella, then set it on the porch to dry. “You’re a caretaker. I know you pushed Colette when her and Dash were dancing around one another. You stole Lilah away when she needed to breathe. You’re there in small, secret ways for everyone.” He brushed a knuckle over her cheek. “Let me be that for you.”
Thick lashes brushed her cheeks as she dropped her eyes. Her scent turned to a complicated mix he could hardly pick apart. Worry and concern soured the juniper and rain. Happiness bubbled to the surface. She swung back down with hesitation, and up again with delight.
Her eyes stayed lowered as she turned the knob and swung open the door.
Rhys’s heart nearly stopped in his chest when her lashes fluttered upward and green eyes met his.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked softly.
Chapter 18
Sage stepped through her door to the sound of blood rushing in her ears. Her skin buzzed with electricity, ready to jolt against the next thing she touched.
Behind her, the door shut tight.
She turned to face Rhys, stomach twisting round and round. Caretaker, he called her. He didn’t throw the word out and hoped it stuck, either. He came armed with examples she couldn’t deny.
It’d become clearer than ever how much he paid attention. Not that the others were blind and uncaring, but Rhys watched for more than the big things. He knew she helped where she could manage. He knew about her scar. There wasn’t any sense in hiding the broken she’d felt over the last forever, or how it still spilled into
her life.
He swept a look over the tight quarters of living, dining, and bedroom areas. When he didn’t say a word, only quirked an eyebrow in question, she shrugged. “I turned my bedroom into a dance studio because I couldn’t stand to sleep in there after everything.”
Her lifted chin dared him to press for more, but he surprised her. “You dance?”
“Ballet. Ages five to twenty-three.”
“And twenty-eight to whenever you want to stop.”
The casual confidence toyed with her emotions. She desperately wanted to believe, but so much evidence otherwise piled up around her. Tracks on the ground and her father’s threats of consequences shook her to her core. “You can’t know that,” she said, ducking her face.
“You said that before.” He stepped closer. “Can I see it?”
She blinked at him, trying to figure out what exactly he meant. He was so close, he made the conversation hard to follow. Not because she was scared, she realized. Her heart tripping in her chest had nothing to do with fear.
His brows lifted, and he darted a look toward the hall.
She hesitated. It was one thing to share what she’d been doing in her free time, and entirely another to show it off.
He was a secret keeper, he said.
Sage dragged down a deep breath, relishing the sweetness of spicy mocha in his scent, then let it go slowly. Fur brushed against her mind, adding an extra hint of encouragement. “Yeah. Sure. If you want.”
Butterflies lifting off with a thousand, tickling wings, she turned on her heels and made her way past her kitchen with a missing stool along the eat-in counter. She didn’t even flick a glance at her bathroom door. Her hand shook as she pressed it to the knob, but she didn’t give herself any time to reconsider before shoving the door wide open.
Savage Exile: Lion Hearts Book Five Page 11
