Takemoto—fully shifted to human—huffed out a cry as he clutched at his chest where a bullet hole appeared. Bennett held her gun on the askari’s body for only a second before she swung around and pointed it right at Chino. He fumbled to pull his own Glock from the holster between his shoulder blades, getting it out just as she managed to level her weapon, pointing it right at him. His entire body shuddered as he saw his life pass before his eyes in the next half second.
“Too bad you stayed behind,” she growled. “You should have gone with Satriale. Now, he’ll miss your pyre.”
The last thing Chino remembered was the feel of hot lead as it bored into his body.
****
Damiano was single-minded as he left the king’s presence. He knew he had only a few hours before he had to meet Theo out on the hunting grounds. He hadn’t even asked the Seer where exactly they were to meet; he just figured with the boy’s telepathic ability, he would find Damiano and not the other way around. Right now, Damiano had something much more important to take care of. He needed to find Paget and ask him what he’d been thinking by putting that lovely dancer in front of him. He had no doubt about his mate’s involvement in the entertainment which had been arranged for his banquet. He had no idea what Paget knew of mates but Damiano did know this—whenever he touched another person, his hands tingled with an almost painful burning sensation. He could only assume it was because now that he’d found and touched his mate, feeling that burning over his heart, it meant that he would be useless to any other lovers ever again.
Not that Damiano cared about other lovers at the moment. All he wanted was to find Paget and kiss the small man until the desperate ache in his head and heart eased. Doesn’t he want the same thing?
Damiano was angry, more with himself than Paget. He’d never expected to find a mate. He’d lived more than thirty years without one and he wasn’t one of those people like Chino who dreamed about finding him. For one thing, he was gay which pretty much precluded finding a man he could ever think of giving his heart to. In his experience over the years, his sexual partners never wanted to play for keeps. Not that Damiano had ever expected to have someone to fuck more than once. It just wasn’t in him to want and desire a connection beyond that.
The fact was, cat shifters rarely found their mates. Though the world was populated with tens of thousands of other cats, mates were often on other continents, far away from the man or woman they were meant to pair with. Sometimes folks paired up, fell in love, and married, having never found their mate. Damiano just figured he’d be one of those folks who never found the man he was destined for. Until he found Paget, he’d never thought he wanted a mate—now he could think of nothing else.
He walked down the corridor, headed for the stairs to the basement, figuring that Paget must have quarters down there somewhere. When he’d shown him around the palace, he’d left out a tour of the servant’s quarters and the truth was, Damiano had been so distracted by him, he’d forgotten to ask where they were. As he got downstairs to the basement level, he figured he’d start in the kitchens since there would surely be someone there still serving food to the king or cleaning up from the banquet in Damiano’s honor. He passed a servant coming out of the double door and the man stopped and bowed low.
“Have you seen the first subaltern this evening?” he asked, knowing he sounded impatient. The servant looked up at him with wide eyes, quaking with fear. Am I really that fearsome? He softened his voice. “Paget. Have you seen Paget?”
The servant swallowed. “I-I’m not…” He glanced side to side.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. He’s not in any trouble. I just need to speak to him.”
The man’s lips formed an almost perfect O. “Y-Yes, he’s… he’s already retired for the evening, Primero.”
“Point me to his quarters,” Dami ordered. Then, as the servant hesitated, “Now!”
The man’s hand shot out as he pointed down a corridor that branched off from the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Damiano said, striding away from him, lifting his nose to the air where he tried to pick up Paget’s scent. He guessed he was going to have to tone the growliness down a bit. For some reason, he seemed to scare the crap out of all the servants. He had no idea what rumors had proceeded him to the palace but whatever they were, they must have been doozies.
He got to the end of the hallway and turned. As soon as he did, he smelled his mate. The scent got stronger as he stalked down the hall and turned down yet another corridor. When he reached the end of it, he stopped in front of a small wooden door. Paget’s scent was strong here. Damiano lifted his hand and knocked.
The door opened slowly and Paget peeked out from inside. His eyes were red-rimmed and it was obvious to Damiano that he’d been crying. Damiano swallowed hard when he realized that his heart actually hurt at the thought that someone had upset his smaller mate. Without asking, he stepped into the room, forcing Paget to back up as he shut the door behind him.
“What are you doing here?” Paget asked quietly.
His golden blond hair had come out of the queue that he generally wore. It flowed around his bare shoulders in silky shining golden waves. He was wearing only loose-fitting sweats, obviously preparing for bed. Damiano couldn’t help but run his gaze up and down his body to admire the delectable sight in front of him. Paget’s chest looked like it was cut from granite. He had smooth tanned skin which looked like it was as soft as butter.
Damiano felt an itch in his hands and had to curl his fingers into fists to stop himself from reaching out and touching a pebbled brown nipple. Paget had a slight dusting of blond hair between his pectoral muscles and he pictured running his tongue there just to see if Paget tasted as good as he looked. His loose gray sweatpants were held up by a drawstring which was tied below his bellybutton. On either side of his bellybutton was that perfect muscled V leading down into his pants as if it were pointing the way to the riches beneath the fabric. Paget’s generous bulge made Dami’s mouth water.
“Is this room soundproof?” Damiano asked. He had every intention of finishing what he’d started with their kiss and the last thing either of them needed was an audience overhearing them. With the way servants gossiped, he knew that the likelihood of their interest in each other would make it around the palace anyway; he just didn’t need anyone hearing how he was about to make Paget beg, especially after what he’d put Damiano through this evening.
Paget’s eyes widened as he glanced at the rough-cut rock walls of his quarters and then back at Damiano.
“I don’t know what you think you’re… oof!” His words were cut off as Damiano reached out and yanked him to his chest, surrounding his smaller frame with both arms. He fit against him so perfectly, it was as if they were made for each other.
“Answer me, dammit! Is this room soundproof?”
“No, but this is dangerous, Paladin. If someone catches you here, you realize this is…”
Damiano stopped the rest of Paget’s protest as he covered his smaller mate’s mouth with his own. The second he touched Paget’s lips, he felt like he’d completed a loose connection, an electric circuit that had been hanging frayed ever since scenting his mate under the portico. Ever since Damiano had found out who Paget was to him. I didn’t want a mate, dammit! The Fates, those manipulative bitches, apparently didn’t care about what he wanted.
Paget melted against Damiano, though his hands came up between them and pushed at him. It was useless. Damiano had every intention of claiming his mate and no protest in the world could stop him from doing so. He’d found what he never thought he would and for some godforsaken reason, all he could think about was getting the man beneath him and stopping his halfhearted protests once and for all.
****
Paget thought he was going to suffocate. His heart pounded in his ears as his blood heated. He felt the same burning sensation over his heart that he’d felt the first time the paladin had kissed him and he knew that his chest was glowing with
out even looking down. Dammit! Meanwhile, Satriale was kissing him… damn… he was kissing Paget like he’d never ever been kissed before. His mate was demanding that he open his mouth so he could accommodate the delicious tongue he’d tasted before. He couldn’t catch his breath and to his own surprise, he didn’t want to.
Paget felt the back of his calves as they touched the frame of his small twin bed. It was only then that he realized Satriale had backed him up several steps while his mouth and mind had been otherwise preoccupied. The very realization that he was about to be fucked and claimed by another man… no, claimed by his mate, had his head spinning. It had been years since Paget had experienced such intimacy with another person and here he was, about to be pushed back onto his own bed. What in the hell had he been thinking letting Satriale into the room this evening—not that he’d had much choice in the matter.
Satriale tasted delicious, like pure raw sex and Paget felt his head reeling as he was overwhelmed by his own feelings of desire and completion; he never thought he’d experience something like what he was drowning in at the moment. He’d been with a lot of lovers but never with one for more than a night. This man was much more than a lover and Paget knew it. This man was his damned mate and for some reason, kissing him and being taken by him was as sweet and unexpected as he’d ever experienced in his entire life. The very thought of it made him ache but he had to pull away. If he didn’t stop the paladin now, he knew that it would be too late. He pushed against the towering wall of muscle that was Satriale and when he wouldn’t budge, he tore his mouth away, looking up and staring at him. Satriale was panting too. God, isn’t that sexy?
Satriale growled as their lips separated.
“I told you, we’re going to get found out,” Paget panted, unable to look away from Satriale’s lips as he spoke.
Satriale growled and backed up, letting him go, causing Paget to stumble backward. He glanced around the room, seeming to search for something and then Paget watched as he walked over to the chair where he’d laid a T-shirt earlier. Satriale snatched it off the chair and tossed it to Paget.
“Put this on. We’re going to my quarters.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You’ve gone mad, Paladin.”
The look in the warrior’s eyes as he stalked over to him would have melted a lesser man but Paget didn’t flinch. He knew that as fearsome as this paladin was, wearing those frightening blades, Satriale wouldn’t hurt him. He might compel him to do something he wanted done, but he’d never hurt him. Paget felt that in his bones. But his reputation is something else indeed.
“Don’t call me Paladin. I am your mate and you will call me by name, Paget.”
“Fine, Damiano Satriale,” Paget said, yanking the shirt over his head and pulling it down over the spot in his chest that ached for his mate’s touch now that they’d separated.
“Better. Now come. Show me the servant’s stairs up to my quarters. I know there are some.”
Paget frowned. “Of course there are, and I’m quite sure you won’t give up until I show them to you.” He knew he sounded like a petulant child but he really couldn’t care less about that at the moment. He was feeling quite petulant and put out. Paget had always been in charge of his own life and the fact that this huge man could waltz into it and begin demanding things of him pissed him right off.
Satriale frowned at him but Paget did the only thing he could do in that moment. He slid his bare feet into sandals, huffed, and yanked open the door, sticking his head out into the corridor. When he confirmed the coast was clear, he looked back over his shoulder. The paladin was standing behind him, towering over him.
“We need to separate. I’ll go first and you follow my scent,” he said. He waited for Satriale to say something but he just nodded.
“Go then.”
Chapter Thirteen
D amiano stepped out into the corridor and shut the door behind him. He waited as Paget took one more look over his shoulder and then disappeared down the corridor the opposite way from where he’d come when he was looking for him. After about two minutes, he took off, following his mate’s strong scent up to the upper floor on a set of stairs not that far from where the kitchen was located. Fortunately for them both, he didn’t run into any of the servants who were probably still serving the king in the banquet hall where he’d left him with Stevens watching over him.
Damiano knew it had probably been foolish to leave the festivities early, especially because the banquet was in his honor but he had no intention of staying a moment longer after the male dancer had tried to entice him with his scented and oiled skin. He’d known he had to distance himself from the dancer. The fact was, before meeting Paget, he would have gladly taken the young man to his bed. He was just Damiano’s type, small and lean. Nevertheless, he held no candle to Paget, whom he wanted with a desperate need that was impossible to quantify.
In fact, with the exception of what he’d learned from Theo about Pasha Raab, Damiano had been thinking of nothing but Paget since the moment he’d first glimpsed him. But, since he had to wait to meet up with Theo and have all his questions answered later on, there was no better time to claim his mate.
By the time he got to the hall on the second level of the palace where his room was located, he knew Paget would be waiting for him. He’d locked his room when he left but he knew Paget had a set of keys to all the rooms in the palace. He didn’t remember Paget grabbing the keys but for both of their sakes, he hoped so. Paget had not seemed eager to get on with the claiming but he could be wrong.
Damiano wanted to laugh as he thought about that. For a servant, his smaller mate certainly was difficult. No matter how much he growled and tried to prove his dominion over Paget, Damiano almost felt like he was the one being dominated. He smiled as he reached his door and found it open a crack. He pushed it wide and stepped inside to find Paget standing in the middle of his chamber waiting for him. He had both of his arms wrapped around his small frame and was hugging himself tightly as he rocked side to side. He glanced up and met Damiano’s gaze as he shut the door, locking it.
“What do you want from me, Satriale?” he asked miserably. “This is going to get us both killed. Don’t you know that nothing good can come of this?”
The pain in Paget’s eyes sliced through Damiano like a knife. The very last thing he ever wanted to do was cause his mate pain. It physically hurt. He held up both hands and took a step toward Paget but Paget backed up a step. Damiano stopped in his tracks.
“Don’t shy away from me. I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want it, Paget,” he said softly, overwhelmed with growing frustration. When he reached for the blades on his belt, Paget’s eyes widened again. He stilled his hands as he glared at him.
“I’m only going to disarm,” he huffed in frustration. “Do you really think I want to hurt you, Paget?” He moved slower and more deliberately, pulling the two Damascus blades from his belt and then the pistols from the shoulder holster, laying them down on the side table. Next, he pushed up his sleeves and removed the blades he had strapped to his forearms, laying them down beside the pistols. After he’d slipped out of the ornate coat he’d put on to attend the banquet, he shrugged out of the shoulder holster. Once he had unburdened himself from his weapons and laid them on the table, he held up his hands again, taking one more step closer.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Paget. Don’t you know that by instinct alone? You know I am your mate and yet you still think I want to hurt you?”
Paget seemed to regard him thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side as he studied his face.
“I don’t think you will physically hurt me.” Paget glanced at the closed and locked door. “I’m afraid someone will see us together. If they know we’re mates, we’ll both be killed. You understand that people of your station and people of mine cannot interact like that. Mates across class lines are impossible. Surely you know that,” Paget said. “And I must tell you this, I can smell the royal blood
in your veins, feel the vibration you give off. You realize that, right?”
Damiano frowned and then nodded slowly. “I thought you might be able to pick up on it.”
“Who are you? Does King Fain know you’re related?” Paget chewed his thumb and then before Damiano could answer, he shook his head. “No, he doesn’t know. You’re cloaking it from him. You know if he picked up on it, there’s a good possibility King Fain would have you put to death. He’s not… he’s not a king like Pasha Raab. He’s nothing like him.”
Damiano had heard the rumors just as the servants here had probably heard rumors of him and how cruel he was. Those rumors were totally unfounded so there was a better than average possibility that the things he’d heard about King Fain were bullshit also. After all, as Stevens attested, King Fain had sent Primero Johansen to kill the mercenary Dariush who’d slaughtered Pasha Raab and no doubt had searched for Queen Sancerre. Damiano could only hope that Theo had been telling the truth—that somehow Pasha Raab still lived. He turned his mind back to the present. His lovely mate was standing before him and he was dying to get a taste of him.
“As to your question about my royal blood, yes, I have been cloaking my scent. No one knows about me but you and my closest friend, Chino.”
Paget chewed his thumbnail. “That’s the man you told the king about—the one you left at Base Camp?”
Dami smiled. “You were listening in, you little shit. You pretend not to listen in and peek at me from behind tapestries but you do watch me, just like you were watching me with that dancer tonight, right Paget?” He took another step forward, anxious to grab him and wipe the surprised expression off his face.
The Tiger King (Paladin Shifters Book 1) Page 14
