Untamable Lover (Worlds of Lemuria: Earth Colony Book 2)

by Rosalie Redd

  “Aramie, I beat one of the males in a sparring match today.” Kitani’s breaths came hard and fast, evidence of her recent workout.

  Aramie’s chest expanded at her friend’s enthusiasm. “Good. You’re ready to go on patrol.”

  “You’ve both come a long way.” Sidea beamed at Jonue and Kitani. “Watch out Gossum, here they come!”

  Kitani’s laugh reverberated off the stone walls. As she calmed, her focus riveted to the entryway. Her laughter ceased, her smile faltered.

  A couple of males stood at the entrance to the training center, Leon and Hallan—Kitani’s and Jonue’s mates. Hallan had deep-set brown eyes partially hidden behind his furrowed brow, disapproval in his stark stare.

  Leon was slender with well-defined muscles in his chest and arms. Long braided hair fell over his shoulder. His gaze narrowed, and his eyes turned into slits. He stalked toward his mate.

  Kitani stiffened.

  Leon clenched her arm, yanking Kitani to him with a swift pull. “I told you not to train. How dare you disobey me.”

  Aramie squared her shoulders and took a step toward him. “Stop! Let her go.”

  Hallan stood next to Jonue and placed his hand on her shoulder to show his possession of her. The sunstones lining the walls brightened, heating the room as the Keep reacted to the tension emanating from the group.

  Leon’s fingers dug into Kitani’s skin. She inhaled through gritted teeth, but didn’t cry out.

  He sized up Aramie, his gaze raking over her body. A pointed tooth glinted from his curled lip.

  Indignation coiled in Aramie’s stomach. How dare he bare his fang to her.

  He loosened his grip on his mate. With a slow, predatory gait, he approached Aramie. “Mated females shouldn’t spar. Your decree goes against Demir’s will and our tradition.” He spat on the ground at her feet. “I won’t abide by your decision. Kitani won’t train.”

  Hallan nodded. “Neither will Jonue.”

  The hair on the back of her neck rose. She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. “Females should have the right to choose whether they fight or not. As leader of this Pride, I make the rules. You have no choice but to follow.”

  The other males stopped their training to watch the scene unfold. With hushed whispers and pointed fingers, they stepped out of the way.

  Leon stared her down. “I challenge you for the right to lead this Pride.”

  At almost twice her size he outweighed her, but she was the alpha. After her mother had abandoned her and Sidea, she’d honed her battle skills defending herself from males like him. If he wanted to take her on, let him try. The release of pent-up energy would be good for her.

  She smiled, showing her fangs in a display of dominance. “I’m all yours.”

  Leon backed up, the muscles in his arms taut with tension. He pounced, shifting into his panther form. His sleek, black coat glinted in the light, and his eyes were slits of amber. She followed suit, the dark pants and shirt she’d worn absorbed beneath her fur. They collided in mid-air, claws and teeth glinting in the light.

  He ripped into her skin with his razor-sharp claws. Pain radiated up her arm and into her shoulder, but she ignored it. She bit him on the ear, her teeth sinking into the soft tissue. His eerie howl echoed around the chamber, and the scent of blood mixed with the stale odor of sweat. As they landed on their feet, they broke apart.

  He circled her, his predatory gaze focused, determined.

  Aramie waited. This male favored his right side.

  Just as she expected, his body tensed, and he attacked from the right. She slipped under him, scratching his belly, leaving a trail of four lacerations from her knife-like claws. He snarled a feral cry of rage and bit her on the flank, his teeth sinking into her tender flesh.

  The sharp sting caused her to flinch, but she wouldn’t let that affect her. Cold and calculating, she contained her anger, using the added energy to track her prey. She stalked him this time, staring him down.

  He bared his teeth.

  A soft chuckle bubbled up from one of the males to her left.

  In the fraction of a second Leon turned to look, she attacked. Barreling into him, she knocked him over. With her preternatural speed, she straddled him and closed her teeth around his throat.

  He stilled.

  She didn’t move, but maintained her position of dominance over him. Fast breaths heaved in and out of her nostrils. Her heart pounded from the exertion. She closed her jaw another inch, tightening her hold on Leon’s throat. He mewled and changed into his human form, his clothes fitting back to his body.

  She released him and transformed as well. Still straddling the humiliated male, she leaned in and stared into his eyes. “I am Pride leader until Demir regains consciousness.”

  In a sign of submission, he lowered his eyes and placed the bridge of his nose under her chin. Now that she’d secured another victory, the males would think twice before challenging her anytime soon.

  She fisted his shirt and dragged him to a standing position.

  Leon’s shoulders slumped forward, and he backed up, out of her way. He made eye contact, and hatred, hot and deep reflected in their depths. “When Demir wakes, you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kick you out of the Pride.”

  A tendril of fear snaked its way into her heart. He might be right. If that happened, she and her sister would be on their own once more. She raised her chin, unwilling to let him know his words had hit a soft spot. “Do you wish to challenge me, again?”

  His eyes narrowed, and he held her gaze. A small smile curved at the corner of his mouth. “I have better things to do.”

  He turned his attention to Kitani and pointed his finger at his mate. “This isn’t over between us.” He visibly clenched his jaw then headed out the door.

  Hallan raced after Leon, but the look he gave Jonue could’ve melted stone.

  A chill ran over Aramie’s arms. By training the mated females to fight, she’d done what she thought was right, even if it went against Demir’s rule. Although part of the mating ritual, she’d never believed in the practice of females submitting to their mates and it was one of the reasons why she’d stayed single for so long. Submitting was so old-fashioned, left over from the days before the great scourge, when the females could still bear children. In Aramie’s eyes, mated Panthera should be equal.

  Kitani pursed her lips and glanced at Aramie. “Thanks for standing up for me.”

  Aramie gave her a brief nod.

  “He’ll be a bear to deal with later, but I know how to handle him.” Kitani winked at her then raced after her mate.

  Aramie’s chest constricted. Challenging Leon’s dominance would strain Leon and Kitani’s relationship. Hopefully, the mated pair could work through their issues.

  Jonue hugged Aramie. “I better go, too. Hallan’s a bit more understanding, but even he’s having a hard time with this. Thank you for helping us break through the old ways.”

  Her friend patted Sidea on the shoulder before heading toward the exit.

  Leon’s threat rang in Aramie’s ears. What would happen if Demir regained consciousness? Would he kick her out of the Pride? She didn’t know, but she’d rather find out than lose him forever. After watching her mother submit to male after male then run away, Aramie had vowed never to follow in her footsteps. I will never become a mated female.

  Now that the spectacle was over, the other males returned to their workouts. The tense atmosphere dissipated and loud, male banter filled the room.

  Sidea ran her fingers along Aramie’s arm. “Hey, you did great. Only a few scratches, pretty impressive.”

  “Leon has been itching to challenge me ever since Demir—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Her throat was too tight.

  “Sis, it’s ok. We’ll be out of here in a few hours. We’ll find Blue Pool and that sacred stone.” Sidea’s eyes gleamed with pride and respect. She glanced around the room. “Besides, these males need a good kick in the pants once in a wh
ile. I love to watch you do it.”

  Aramie couldn’t help smiling. Sidea had a way of bringing out the best in others. Maturing while on the run without the protection of a Pride had turned them into formidable warriors and close siblings. What would she do without her sister at her side? A cool breeze raised goosebumps on her arm. She suppressed an unsettling shiver.

  Chapter Three

  Strong fingers massaged Demir’s scalp, pushing shampoo through his shoulder-length hair. The soapy water, mixed with Aramie’s unique strawberry fragrance, relaxed him to the point of bliss. He didn’t like being touched by others, but something about Aramie’s fingers made him give in and unwind. Not that he could move, but he could still feel, and her touch lit a fire under his skin.

  “I read something interesting in the ancient text today.” Aramie had found that book a few weeks ago and he’d been surprised at how entranced she’d become with the strange Stiyaha tome. With each visit, she’d told him more about their shared Lemurian past. “Did you know our Lemurian ancestors lived in the islands of the South Pacific during the last ice age?”

  Unable to answer her, he concentrated on her tender care. Cool water cascaded over his head and down the back of his neck where the familiar sound of liquid dripped into a bucket. Fingernails scraped the skin at the base of his scalp, wringing out the water from his hair. A warm towel caressed the skin on his cheeks.

  “The book says after a flood caused by melting ice, various races of shape-shifters migrated to the continents. The need to hide from humans forced many into seclusion. We had to battle our enemy in remote locations. I guess that explains why the Keep is underground.”

  A comb ran through his wet untamed hair, catching on a knot only once. Gentle hands lifted his head and shoulders from the edge of the bed and back onto the pillow. He didn’t deserve her devoted attention.

  Her hand rested against his shoulder, the sensation tickling his skin. “I’ve always known we fought this war for our goddess, Alora, but I never knew we had brethren until she sent us here to join forces with the Stiyaha. I wonder when the others will arrive. In any case, it will be good to have other Lemurian species at the Keep to help fight the Gossum.”

  The door creaked and soft, feminine footsteps approached. Demir recognized Sidea’s familiar gait. “Hey, sis. Need any help?”

  “I’m almost done. Just need to trim his beard.” Aramie’s smooth fingers ran across his cheek and around his goatee leaving little lightning bolts everywhere she touched.

  “It’s almost time to leave.” Sidea spoke in a rush.

  The bedspread near Demir’s hip bunched as if Aramie had clenched the material in her hands. Her chair squeaked against the stone floor. She moved away, her unique scent trailing in her wake.

  “Not so loud, just in case.” Aramie’s voice was a tight whisper. “We’ll leave after the evening repast. If anyone asks, we’re going for a run.”

  Demir strained to hear her words. What was in that dart that kept him down? How much more could he take?

  “I can’t wait to go. My body aches to transform.” Sidea’s words carried across the room, despite her hushed tone. “Once we find the blue sunstone, Gaetan can heal Demir.”

  Demir tensed. A healing stone? Was it possible? A tiny drop of hope weaseled its way into his chest.

  Sidea inhaled and let out a slow breath. “With Demir back, you won’t have to fight the males anymore. Even though our species heals fast, I hate to see you get injured defending your role as interim leader.”

  He fought against the invisible bonds, straining, kicking in his mind. In his condition, he couldn’t lead, and because he still lived, Aramie wasn’t officially Pride leader. His gut twisted into a tight knot. He’d put her in an awkward position, and he hated himself for it.

  “I need to finish.” Aramie’s voice returned to a normal volume.

  The chair creaked as she settled in her spot next to his bed. Tools clinked together. Cool metal caressed the skin on his cheeks.

  Snip-snip.

  Small tendrils of hair fell onto his cheek, tickling his skin. He relaxed again under her care. His mind reeled through a storm of confusion, but he couldn’t pinpoint its source. All he knew was a welcoming peace at her touch.

  “I’ll see you in the Grand Hall.” Sidea’s words hung in the air.

  Her soft footsteps retreated across the floor. The door clicked shut.

  “I wish you would talk to me, tell me what I should do.” Aramie caressed the hair around his mouth, wiping away the stray strands she’d clipped. Her finger circled his diamond stud above the hairline of his lip.

  He wanted to grab her wrists, make her stop, and part of him was glad he couldn’t. All his adult life he’d avoided physical contact. Even with Eleanor, his deceased mate, he’d controlled when and how she touched him. To have Aramie touch him now, in such a personal way, beat against his spirit, reinforcing his weakness.

  “The males only follow my command in deference to you.” Her voice contained a small hitch.

  The flat end of the scissors rubbed against his skin. With gentle care her fingers glided over his upper lip, and he wanted to lick her, taste her skin on his tongue. Her attention to him teased his nerves, increasing his yearning. He’d gone from relaxed to being enticed in a matter of moments. In his mind, his cat howled in frustration.

  “Sidea and I will find Blue Pool, find the healing stone. I won’t stop until we do.”

  A drop of wetness splashed on his chin, and she wiped it away. Why did the females cry over him? Had she gone soft? If he could, he’d tell her to suck it up. He’d chosen her as his second in command for a reason.

  Metal clinked against metal. She must’ve put the scissors back on the tray. That meant she would leave him soon. His stomach clenched. Why did he care? The only females he’d ever cared about were Eleanor and Melissa.

  Eleanor had been timid and submissive—a perfect mated female. She’d always done as he’d asked, and never once challenged his authority. Her beautiful smile and deep green eyes were as clear to him as the last time he’d seen her, over five hundred years ago when the great scourge had claimed her life. Bile rose in his throat. It seemed like only yesterday.

  Even though his lifespan was over two thousand years, he still had more time than not…or so he used to think. At this point, he wasn’t sure he had more than a few days left.

  The memory of his mate reminded him of Melissa, who’d looked so like his Eleanor he’d obsessed over her. What a fool he’d been, pining for a female who didn’t want him. When she became pregnant with the king’s child, he’d lost his lucidity and threatened her. Aramie had interfered, commanding him to stop. He’d slapped his own warrior across the face for her insolence, but he’d let Melissa go.

  After all he’d done, Aramie was here now, attending to his needs. I am such a shit.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She rose from her chair and padded to the door, lingering there for a moment. Her soft breaths sounded loud in the quiet room.

  “Please come back to me,” she whispered.

  She really doesn’t want to be Pride leader…

  The door closed behind her, but the enchanting scent of strawberries lingered.

  Chapter Four

  Ram grimaced as the stairs groaned under his new, red high-tops. It was as if the steps were aware evil invaded the old farmhouse. The squeak of his soles was a reminder of Noeh, their battle, and Ram’s little tumble into the river.

  “That bastard king just won’t die,” he muttered.

  Shaking himself, he focused on the old wooden door. He peered through the glass panes, the edges coated with the remnants of too many bad paint jobs. The white house was so not like his dark personality and that would do fine to camouflage their new lair.

  He twisted the knob and opened the door. The smell of bacon and stale cigarettes infiltrated his sensitive nose. He gagged and placed a hand over his mouth. “Open a window.”

  Inside, a F
ormica table stood in the middle of the neglected kitchen. Steel-framed chairs with cheap plastic cushions surrounded the small eating place. Over the large sink, pink floral print curtains covered the window. Decoupage pictures of peppers, cucumbers, and melons lined the walls, adding to the country flair. The faint scent of grass and manure from the nearby pasture completed the sense of happy, happy, home, home.

  Ram glared at Jakar, his first lieutenant. The male stood still at the bottom of the stairs, his hands clasped in front of him. Jakar had secured this place while Ram had been out of it, healing from his battle wounds. Ram touched the scar that ran along the center of his chest and flinched. The disfigurement would remain a constant reminder of his failure to defeat Noeh, the Stiyaha king.

  Ram raised a hairless eyebrow. “A farmhouse—not my first choice, but this could work.”

  “You need to see the basement.” Sunglasses covered Jakar’s eyes, but the slight lift to his mouth gave away his eagerness.

  “Are there fluffy kittens and baby chicks down there?” Surely, this country comfort couldn’t get much worse.

  Jakar walked up the stairs, his hand extended in an invitation. “Please, take a look around, then I’ll show you the prize jewel—the basement.”

  Ram walked into the kitchen, past the large living room, and evaluated each of the three bedrooms. A stack of boxes labeled “Smirnoff’s” sat in the far corner of the last room. Alcohol was all his body or any of the Gossum needed to survive. His favorite—the hard stuff, vodka in particular. He smiled. Despite the feminine touches, this place was functional, nothing like the decrepit cabin they’d used as a safe house.

  About a hundred miles from Portland, Oregon, the farmhouse was on the eastern edge of Mt. Hood, near the small community of Tygh Valley. Human neighbors lived a few miles away, but he could deal with that, as long as they didn’t interfere. Overall, Jakar had done a good job. He’d used the funds they’d racked up from the stolen credit cards to rent the place. The owner hadn’t asked any questions, which was a good move on his part. They could stay here, at least for a while.