Shifters Forever Worlds Mega Box: Volume 2

by Thorne, Elle

  She moved her head from side to side, making low growling noises.

  “We need to get back to the villa,” he said.

  She released a snarl, facing him but without actually focusing her eyes on him.

  He stood. “Ready?”

  Another snarl, but she didn’t rise. Gio watched her, confused. Was she picking up something he couldn’t see or hear?

  Stretching, crunching, and popping sounds signaled her morphing into her human form.

  She reached her hands out, toward him, but not touching him. “Giovanni.”

  He took her fingers into his grasp. “What is it?” He studied her face. Her brown eyes had a blue tint over them, as if she were wearing colored contacts. She was in one of the semi-formal dinner dresses he was sure the housekeeper had provided. Clearly she’d changed before she shifted. The dress was rumpled, giving away their misadventure in the forest.

  “Giovanni, I can’t see. That blue light…”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Nothing.”

  Damn it.

  “Can you shift?” she asked him.

  “Not yet. Temporary aftereffects of the trap, probably. I’m sure I’ll be able to shortly. It’s not like my tiger’s gone. He’s still here with me.”

  “My sight should return soon.”

  He wondered if she could be sure of that. “If it doesn’t, I’ll have another job for Esmerelda. This had to have been one of her traps.” There were no other witches in the area, were there? He felt he’d know if there were. “Do you feel up to going to the villa?”

  “I’m…” She licked at her lips. “I’d rather wait a bit. If…” Some handwringing. “If you don’t mind.”

  He didn’t want to be a target in the forest, but how could he refuse her, after she’d stayed and watched over him while he recovered.

  “I don’t mind.” Hopefully nothing would come up.

  She lowered herself to the ground. “My head’s killing me. It feels like someone’s driving pencils in my eyes.”

  Gio held her, sat behind her, leaned her against his body.

  “Rest. I’ll keep an eye out.” And hopefully, he could shift if he needed to.

  He’d never encountered such loyalty from someone who wasn’t a part of the Tiero family or crew. He’d certainly not seen this from Vanessa.

  He pushed her away from his mind.

  Vanessa was a part of his past.

  He had a future to look forward to.

  He studied Isabel’s profile—fierce, proud.

  And trustworthy.

  He hadn’t counted on ever meeting a woman like her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Isabel held her head, trying to make the searing pain dissipate. She couldn’t. And she couldn’t ignore it. But she didn’t want it to rule her. She had to keep the pain at bay, at least until her sight returned. Until Giovanni was fully recovered. Everything was based on a series of untils.

  She concentrated on Giovanni’s presence, on the fact that he wasn’t dead or dying. She drew his scent deep into her lungs. His human scent that yielded hints of woodiness, cinnamon, and his tiger’s essence. His scent was calming, like a soothing balm on shattered nerves. She was trying to hide the confusion of Desi’s visit.

  Against her body, she felt Giovanni draw in a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me.”

  “No thanks needed. You’d have done the same for me.”

  “True. Still, I owe you. If there’s ever anything—”

  “There is.” Her interruption was quick; this had preyed on her mind quite a bit. “Tell me about your—” Now what was she supposed to say? Tell me about your dead wife? She couldn’t say that. “—the children’s mother.”

  His breath hitched, her tigress hearing picked it up as surely as if it were an alarm bell.

  He hesitated, she could hear it in his pulse, the way it became erratic. “Anything but that, Isabel.”

  “Okay.” She wasn’t able to keep out the forlorn tone. She’d hoped she could crack his impenetrable shell.

  His breathing was ragged. “It's—difficult.”

  “I understand. What if you tell me a secret, something you’ve never shared with anyone?”

  He paused, as if thinking. “Sometimes I wish I wasn't firstborn and required to uphold antiquated customs I'm not even sure I believe in. Tell me one of yours?”

  “That doesn’t seem fair. You were supposed to tell me yours in exchange for my helping you.”

  “Understood.” He fidgeted, his fingers moving restlessly.

  She reached out and placed her hands on his. He was holding a blade of grass, strong hands wrapping the greenery around his index finger.

  She relented. “I’ve had issues with my tigress.”

  “Define issues.”

  “In my teens, we had a falling out. She refused to return. She was there, but she wouldn’t come back in a shift. Would hardly communicate with me either.”

  “What did you do?”

  “My parents sent me to a counselor.”

  “A shifter shrink?”

  She could hear the smile in his voice, as if a counselor for shifters was farfetched in his mind.

  “Guess he served in that capacity. He was a shifter and a doctor, in the final years of his residency, an American who was returning to his country the next year. I saw Dr. Evans for a full year before he left.”

  “Did he help you?”

  “He said he wasn’t very familiar with cases like mine, that they weren’t common. His advice was to immerse myself in something I was passionate about and wait for my tigress to return.”

  “So you did? What is it you were passionate about?”

  “Ballet. And, yes. Now I give private lessons.”

  “And clearly your tigress returned.”

  “She did. Not right away, but she did.”

  “No explanation?”

  “I didn’t need any, I knew why she left. I had met a young man—I mean we were teenagers; it wasn’t a big deal—but she was unhappy because she knew he wasn’t my fated mate. She wasn’t okay with our dating.”

  “She’s a headstrong one, isn’t she?” He took her hand. “I can see where she gets it from.”

  “Ha. You know it doesn’t work that way.” But she did appreciate the teasing tone and the levity. Thinking about the time without her tigress was unpleasant.

  She lowered her lids, then opened them slowly to see if there was a difference. Was that a glimmer of light she could see? She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

  “Tell me about the tigress. You’ve seen her, right? Who is she?”

  Another breath hitch.

  He definitely knew something about the tigress.

  “It’s…” He exhaled softly, but to her supernatural shifter hearing, she could tell it was laden with consternation.

  “You’ve seen her, right?”

  “Not exactly.” He adjusted, moving slightly, repositioning her against his chest. “I think it’s my children’s mother—her tigress.”

  Like a ghost? Isabel didn’t want to ask something so naïve. But what else could it be?

  Time for her to mind her own business. “That must be difficult,” she murmured, allowing the subject to drop. She didn’t need to be bringing up painful memories.

  “Mhmmm.” The sound of his agreement was drawn out and low, his heartbeat against her back was even, almost lulling. “Rest,” he said. “I’ll shift if needed.”

  “Your strength is back? You can shift?”

  “Yes, my tiger’s been pushing for it, angry at the experience, seeking revenge.”

  Not good. The last thing she or anyone else needed was Giovanni Tiero seeking revenge.

  In Isabel’s head, her tigress roared agreement, though still inclined to want a measure of retribution for the pain they’d been through. Her eyesight loss. Her head’s aching had lessened, no longer searing its way across her brain; now it was a throbbing uncomfortable sensation.

  C
hapter Sixteen

  Gio breathed Isabel in. His mate. He knew this now, with a certainty he’d never felt before.

  Not ever.

  Her scent infiltrated his system, coursing through his veins like it was his own life source.

  Her body, soft and curvy, with a layer of muscle beneath, from her years of dancing. Softness over steel. Just the kind of woman who could put up with him. He knew he wasn’t an easy man. Being easy was never an option for the firstborn of the Tiero family. It never had been.

  His own father had told him that repeatedly, as had his grandfather before him. He needed her to stay. But more than anything, his tiger argued, he needed her to want to stay with him. His headstrong, possessive ways would push them apart if he wasn’t careful.

  In the darkness, her chest rose and fell with each of her sleeping breaths. He traced the beauty marks on her arms, reminding him of the patterns of the stars in the sky above. His superb shifter sight allowed him to pick out each one, speckles that he lingered over gently, enjoying the way she nuzzled backward, her body fitting perfectly against his.

  Mine.

  The thought resonated from his tiger, but was Gio’s sentiment as well.

  His. She was all his. He’d never allow another to have her. Gio’s tiger snarled in agreement.

  Gio wrapped his arms around her, leaned in, placed his lips against her temple, left them there while she rested.

  Isabel’s brow furrowed, her eyelids fluttered. It was as if she was in a dream.

  “I can’t,” she said with a low tone in her restless sleep.

  Can’t what, he wondered.

  Her hands clenched into fists. She shook her head, gently, then more fiercely. She growled, her tigress’s voice merging with hers. The sound was low in the night, barely audible in the near silent forest.

  Worried about her, Gio held her tightly and whispered to her, hoping to bring her out of her dream. “Isabel, it’s just a dream.”

  Her eyelids flew open. The blue coloring was gone and she was focusing on his face, clearly. “Giovanni.”

  “You can see?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s Gio, please. Not Giovanni. You were having a bad dream, it seemed. What was it about?”

  She paused, her eyes looking around, as if trying to jar her memory. “I don’t know.”

  “You were talking in your sleep. Said that you couldn’t. Couldn’t what?”

  A headshake. “No idea. I can’t remember.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Leaning against Gio, and feeling as if she belonged nowhere else on earth, Isabel’s sight had returned. She tossed a tiny prayer of appreciation up and thought of Desideria, thankful she’d been there to let Isabel know there was hope when there’d seemed to be none, easing her fears when she’d been certain the blindness was permanent.

  She turned and studied Giovanni’s face. Worry was etched in the lines and planes.

  Worry about me.

  There was something else there, and though she couldn’t put a finger on what she saw, her inner tigress was making low, pleased chuffing sounds at Giovanni’s tiger.

  Seemed as though her tigress was communicating with Giovanni’s tiger without consulting with her.

  Not this again.

  The time of her tigress’s non-communication with her had been difficult. Isabel thought they’d gotten past that, for the most part.

  Her tigress snarled at the lie Isabel had told, but didn’t betray her.

  Yes, Isabel acknowledged. She lied.

  She’d lied to Giovanni. He’d asked what the dream was about and she’d flat out lied. She’d had to. In her dream, Desideria and she had been sitting in the forest, talking. Desideria was just beginning to tell Isabel something, perhaps to warn her, when the elusive phantom white tigress had surged forward from the shadows in the trees.

  The tigress had snarled at Isabel and Desi. And then the tigress had told her she was to stay away from Gio. It was strange because Isabel was in her human form, but had been able to hear in the tigress’s sync.

  She couldn’t tell Giovanni—Gio, he’d asked her to call him Gio. She couldn’t tell Gio that Desi had talked to her. That would spawn questions and more lies. She couldn’t tell him about what the phantom tigress had said because of even more questions.

  So what could she do?

  Nothing, other than tell him that she couldn’t remember her dream. And she couldn’t do what the other tigress wanted. She couldn’t stay away from him.

  She sighed at the difficulty of her predicament.

  She turned around again and leaned into him. Against her back, she felt his heart beating strongly, far better off than he’d been when she’d first taken him out of the force field.

  Isabel noticed a difference. She paused to reflect on it.

  It was her tigress. She was different.

  Her tigress was content. Her tigress for the first time in all her life was not restless, not fighting, but simply content.

  Wanting to test a theory, Isabel pulled forward slightly, away from Gio. Her tigress gave a snarl. As soon as Isabel leaned back again, her tigress released a low sound, almost like a purr.

  Isabel understood. She felt a strong attraction to Gio, more than an attraction, actually. But the way her tigress was behaving was overwhelming.

  Isabel bit down on her lower lip, hard. She was hoping the pain would drive away these thoughts she was having about Gio. Thoughts that weren’t her tigress alone. Each moment she leaned against him was making it more and more difficult for her to concentrate on anything but him.

  It didn’t help that Gio’s dark stare was focused on her lips.

  She worried that lip with her sharp teeth, but the pain of it did nothing to appease her desire for this man. How could she want someone so dark, so deep, so withdrawn?

  Gio was in a place she wasn’t sure she could reach. She wanted to, God knew, she wanted to be in that place with him. Anywhere with him. Everywhere with him.

  His mouth was in a tight line, as if he had his own battle to fight, as if he were conflicted, just like she was.

  “Gio, I—”

  Her words were cut off as his hand flew up, his thumb freeing her lip from her teeth, but resting against her tender, reddened bottom lip.

  He shook his head. “Don’t say it. Don’t say anything. Just give me this. This moment. This second. This brief flash of eternity, even if it doesn’t last after we return to the villa.” His voice was a tormented growl.

  Isabel’s confusion was compounded, even more than it had been a second ago. She knew her torture, but she didn’t understand his own torment.

  Something in his eyes sought hers, seeking an answer, seeking affirmation, seeking…

  What does he want from me?

  She knew what she wanted, it came to her in a flash. She wanted him, on any terms. She knew her tigress felt the same. Maybe her tigress had passed the emotions on to her, though Isabel didn’t think her tigress could do that. A tautness in the set of his jaw gave away the control that he was fighting to keep restrained.

  “This moment, and any others you want…” She let a breath out. “Gio, they are all yours. Always.”

  “I won’t lose a mate. I won’t lose you. I won’t have another taking you from me.”

  She bit back a gasp. What was he insinuating? Anger flushed through her body. “What—?”

  This time, the interruption came in the form of his lips landing on hers. The hand on the back of her neck drew her in close and gave her no option to pull away. A moan ripped from her very soul at the contact between them.

  Boldly, she kissed him back, exploring the shape of his mouth, the curve of his lips, the touch of his tongue. Everything, all of him, it was pure alpha, pure male, and pure torture. The torment in his soul seared her own soul through their kiss. She took and gave, her tongue joining his in a primal dance that claimed their souls and joined their tigers.

  Her hands lifted, wrapping around his
neck, digging into his hair, pulling him tighter against her mouth. Her mouth caught his groan, swallowing it, making it her own.

  A swirling tornado of emotions sucked them deeper and deeper into a kiss that made demands and sealed promises.

  Finally, what seemed like an eon later, they pulled apart, both panting. They sat, their bodies touching, their tigers merging, their souls communing until finally, both composed, Gio spoke.

  “How is it I never met you when you’ve been in Rome?”

  She smiled at the question, a logical one. “I was at a boarding school in Switzerland, and then on to London.”

  “And your parents? Wouldn’t I know them? My family is quite prevalent in Rome and Florence, though we aren’t flashy. We prefer to be low-key.

  “They traveled often until my father took ill. His business interests kept him on the road a lot.”

  “And he took ill…” Gio paused, as if waiting for her to tell him more.

  “Yes. And he arranged for a marriage between my sister and Bruno Vergo.”

  Gio made a sound of disgust. “Worthless scum.”

  “Agreed. You have no idea.”

  “Did he… He…” It was as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

  “He hasn’t.”

  “He’ll die a slow death first.” Gio’s words blanketed Isabel with a sense of security she’d never encountered before.

  “So does your sister love this animal?”

  Isabel hissed, releasing the sound between clenched teeth. “God, no. No. No. She’s actually in love with another, though I’m not sure she’s completely ready to fully accept it.”

  Gio cocked his head, traced tiny circles on her arm with his thumb. “What’s that about?”

  “She’s in love with the one that Esmerelda is going to help her free, the lion shifter trapped in the wall.”

  “You’ve met him? This son of Marco Ricoletti?”

  “If you want to call meeting him while he’s trapped in a wall as such. We conversed. The only way to communicate with him is in our shifted forms.”

  “I can’t imagine how that must have been. Trapped in a wall. No contact, no one to touch, kiss, wrap his arms around.” Gio pulled her closer, leaned his chin on her shoulder.