by Kyle, Celia
No, Angus was his. His.
Angus reminded Grayson of his presence then. The male lifted and turned his head, sinking his fangs into Grayson’s leg. Pain ricocheted, sending wave after aching wave through his body.
It hurt, fuck it hurt, but also reminded him he was alive and had a purpose. He tore his attention from the annoying tiger and back to Angus-the-soon-to-be-dead. Disregarding the blood trailing down his own leg, he went on the offensive, beginning their fight in earnest. With Ricker’s silent command to the crowd, he had no doubt he’d be left alone and allowed to battle Angus. He needed the fight, needed the opportunity to destroy the threat to his mate.
He struck at Angus with his teeth, jaw wide as he snapped at the male, finding home with some bites and missing with others. Regardless, the male’s blood filled his mouth and flowed over his tongue. He didn’t delude himself, the wounds weren’t deep and deadly, but it was a start. Besides, Angus gave as good as he got.
He brought a hind leg forward, risking the release of one of Angus’s long enough to dig a deep furrow into the male’s side. Angus nearly got him, but Grayson was faster.
Angus bucked beneath him, fighting to break free, but Grayson denied him that pleasure. Not when there was so much blood yet to be spilled. Bite after bite, cut and scrape after cut and scrape. His blood joined Angus’s, coating the slick concrete floor with the fluid.
And still the fight continued. Their fur was no longer shining golden, but deep and dark, soaked and plastered to their bodies.
More slashes, gouges, and digs… more of the life-giving fluid coating the floor. Fatigue from blood loss pulled at him, but he didn’t care. Angus still breathed.
Pain seared his side, the man’s claws finding home from his ribs to his hip and Grayson clenched his teeth against the pain. He swallowed back the roar and whimper that threatened to escape. He didn’t have time to waste on venting his rage. Not when he had damage of his own to do.
But his wounds made him weak, made him sluggish in his responses, and that gave Angus the chance to take the upper hand. The memories of the clearing overlapped today, the male flipping them, straddling him, hovering over him like death in motion. Blood dripped from the lion’s mouth, the redness mixed with saliva.
And just as before, the end loomed. Only Grayson refused to give in. Last time, he hadn’t known the truth, hadn’t realized the depth of Angus’s hate and disease. But now he knew, now he had knowledge of everything the male did to his mate.
He’d die for it.
Instead of fighting to push Angus away, he dug in his claws and pulled him closer. He didn’t want to escape, he didn’t want to be pushed free. He had a plan.
So he yanked and tugged and pulled. He worked harder and harder as he dug his claws in deeper and deeper. The nails hit bone and some curled around them, sinking even further. Then Angus was captured, held fast by Grayson’s embrace. He had the male right where he desired.
And Angus realized it too. As Grayson battled to bring the lion within biting range, the male wrestled to get away. No, not this time. He would have his blood, his vengeance. He raged at the pain Honor suffered months ago as well as today, and he would get his pound of flesh.
The closer Angus came to Grayson’s mouth, the more he thrashed. It didn’t matter. Nothing would now. Angus’s paws slipped and slid on the slick concrete, not giving him any purchase in his struggles. A foot separated them, then inches, then he could practically taste the male’s fur-covered throat.
Die, die, die…
“Let him go!” The roar shook the very foundation of the building, sending a tremor through Grayson, and had him faltering in his attack.
Movement drew a hint of his focus, had him glancing to the side. He didn’t release Angus, didn’t lessen his tight grip on the male, but he did peek at the source of that raised voice.
He wished he hadn’t.
Honor, dear God, Honor… His heart froze in his chest as the air in his lungs solidified into ice. A male stood behind his battered and bloodied mate. Still in lioness form, it’d been so easy for him to sneak up behind her amidst the chaos. So easy to straddle her, scruff her red-hued fur and skin, and then place the muzzle of a gun to her head.
So. Fucking. Easy.
Grayson had given the male the perfect distraction.
He remained immobile—even Angus stopped struggling—as he stared at the stranger. A stranger, and yet not. No, the eyes were familiar, as was the shape of his nose and square shape of his jaw.
This was the London Prime. The male who’d enabled Angus to torture his mate, to torture and kill countless women through the years. He’d kill that one next. Angus’s neck was still within reach, still close enough for him to sink his teeth into the lion’s flesh. One tug was all it’d take. One tug and—
“I said, let him go!” The London Prime yanked on Honor’s flesh once again, digging the gun into her ear.
A glance at her mate’s face revealed anger and fear, panic and rage. She definitely wanted the Prime dead, but that desire was tempered by the terror coursing through her.
And the male’s threat was real. Very real and very earnest. He’d shoot and kill Honor if Grayson didn’t end the fight. Now.
Fuck.
In one smooth move, he released Angus and shoved him toward a frozen Ricker. The tiger looked ready to kill, his gaze alternating between Grayson and the Prime holding Honor captive. He had no doubt Ricker was more than ready to end the Prime’s life. Well, he had to get in line.
Angus tumbled over the ground, sliding and rolling until he came to a stop. He remained on his side, panting and heaving air. Grayson purred, enjoying the fact he’d injured the other male that much. It didn’t mean he wasn’t in the same amount of pain, but he took joy in the male’s agony.
“Angus, get up, boy,” the Prime snarled at his son. The look was filled with pure evil and hate. “Angus.”
The battered male whined, but pushed to his feet, stumbling and then crashing back to the ground in a pile of flesh and fur. It wouldn’t have taken Grayson much more time to end his life and now the chance had been torn from him.
As Angus struggled once again to gain his feet, Grayson focused on the Prime, on the gun pressed to Honor’s temple and the trembles that wracked her body. He couldn’t lose her now, not after he’d forged a life with her, after they’d made plans and built dreams together. He’d waited, fuck he’d waited, so long to have her and now the Prime threatened to take it all away.
He raged against the invisible bindings that kept him in place, the fear for his mate’s life that had him remaining in position and not making any move to kill Angus. He burned for his death, for the Prime’s death, but he’d remain passive. If it meant keeping Honor alive, he’d do anything.
“Damn it, Angus. Quit being such a fucking pussy and get your ass off the ground.” The Prime dragged Honor forward and his mate went, allowing the larger male to pull her along.
He inwardly cursed, alternating between the desire for her to fight and praising her for doing as the Prime wanted.
Angus struggled to stand once again, drawing the London Prime’s full focus. It wasn’t until Angus whined and chuffed, vocalizing in a small attempt at a growl, that Grayson realized something was happening.
The snarl came from Angus, Ricker’s body stiffened, and then his attention was pulled further by a parting of the crowd behind the London Prime. A massive male, half-shifted and slightly scarier than an enraged Brute, emerged. It was a stranger, a male he’d never seen, but the black and orange fur gave him a hint at the male’s identity.
There was only one other tiger that would be allowed into the territory. Alex had welcomed Ricker with grumbling, yet open arms, and then there was Cambridge’s dean… Honor’s dean.
Even his mate froze in the London Prime’s grasp, her nostrils flaring as she brought in the air surrounding her. Grayson saw the moment she recognized the approaching male.
The tiger loomed over the c
razed Prime, his massive bulk seeming to dwarf the male, and suddenly the threat to his mate was gone. Those claw-tipped hands shot forward, grasping the Prime’s head between his paws and twisting in one fluid movement. It was fast and quick, the male now lying dead at Honor’s feet, gun discarded carelessly.
His mate was safe.
A whimper came from Angus, his body slowly sliding to the floor.
And yet the threat still lingered.
Uncaring of the wounds still marring his body, Grayson rolled to his feet. The cat gave him strength, poured adrenaline and rage into his blood so he could finish his confrontation. Six feet separated him from Angus, six small feet. He bunched his muscles, body preparing to leap across the distance. He pushed off with his back legs, sending his body airborne and toward the male that’d hurt Honor over and over again.
His paws left the ground and he flew, closer and closer and—
Once again Ricker cock-blocked Grayson’s kill. The first time he’d torn Angus from him and now he shoved him aside when he would have ended the male. The tiger lay atop Grayson, holding him down with his human body. That fact attested to Grayson’s weakness, but he didn’t care. He had the strength to end Angus’s life. One slice, one bite, one tear…
“Cut it the fuck out,” Ricker growled in his ear.
Grayson snarled in response. Others surged forward now, the females surrounding Honor while some of the Prima’s guards corralled a weakened and whimpering Angus. His kill. His.
“Quit it, fucker. The council needs him alive, you furry bastard.”
Grayson didn’t care and he growled in response.
“They can’t know who else he’s hurt or killed if he’s dead, Grayson.” Ricker shook him. “Think of those families.”
Fucking asshole. Fucking fuck-head asshole for pulling his emotions into the fucking fight.
He continued to growl, pissed that his vengeance was thwarted, but he did manage to keep it to a low, rolling rumble. He relaxed beneath Ricker’s hold, telling the male the fight had grudgingly left him.
He met Honor’s gaze from across the room, noting the cuts and scrapes that peppered her body, but he also noticed something else. Worry tinged her expression, but beyond her concern, other emotions lurked. The fear she’d carried since she returned was gone. Now she was concerned for him, but it was overrun by other emotions. She was calm, serene, happy…
She was—
Snapping at Maddy when the woman poked one of her wounds. Then Maddy glared and thumped Honor’s nose. That was followed by a nip, and a claw versus human pokefest ensued.
Maybe… maybe Honor didn’t need Angus dead in order to let the past rest. Already he saw a change in her, yet another piece of the old Honor easing into the present. If she could survive and thrive after what she’d endured, if bloodying the male was enough for her, it had to be enough for him.
Which fucking sucked.
81
“Best friends are the chicks who make your problems theirs so you guys can form a gangsta posse and beat those problems to hell.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who has found that a lot of her problems happen to be asshole males. Good thing the R-town all-girl gang has claws. Ridgeville 4 lyfe.
Honor slept, peacefully curled against him, her skin still flush pink with her healing wounds. They’d both been exhausted, bloodied, battered, and bruised after their fights with Angus. The male had done quite a bit of damage to his small mate and the beast inside Grayson reared up, roaring for the male’s blood. They’d been so close last night, so very, very close.
Yet he’d been forced to let the male live to be interrogated. Thankfully his death was imminent. The council would see to that.
That fact didn’t soothe his beast.
Honor sighed and wiggled against him, snuggling close. The shift sending more of her scent into the air. He breathed deep, consoling himself with the fact she was alive, beside him, while Angus was locked up tight.
Grayson gently squeezed her, curling his arm around her body, and then ran his hand along her side. The soft ridges of her scars met his fingertips, the larger of them telling him of their newness. They’d forever be emblazoned on her skin, but they were simply symbols of her survival. She’d fought and won.
And damned if that didn’t make him love her more.
He turned his head and pressed his lips to her crown, breathing deep with the action. More of her flavors filled him, soothing his beast and sending a blanket of calm through his body. She was safe and alive, he had to remember that.
She rubbed her cheek across his chest, nuzzling him, and then released a soft sigh. “Grayson?”
“Right here, love.” He rubbed his cheek atop her head. “How are you feeling?”
Honor hummed. “Tired. Achy.” He sensed her hesitation, felt the sudden stillness of her body. “What happened? Is everything okay?”
“That’s a loaded question.” He winced. “And a bad pun.” Especially considering the events of last night. “We’re fine.”
Now. Now they were fine. When he had to be held down while they hauled Angus away, they hadn’t been fine. It’d been even worse when that deadly tiger, Cambridge’s dean, carried a barely conscious Honor from the club. But now? They were good.
“That doesn’t tell me what happened.”
Grayson rumbled. “I liked it better when you didn’t ask questions.”
“Tough.” She nipped his chest and he smiled at her playfulness. “Give it over before I gnaw you to death.”
He shivered and his cock twitched. His body quickly shifted from annoyed to interested. “What do you remember?”
She stilled and he could practically see her replaying the events in her mind, repeating the night in her head. “I recall Mason putting a gun to my head.”
Grayson preferred calling the London Prime Fucker, but he figured Mason worked.
“Then…” She tilted her head back and propped her chin on his chest. “Then Finn showed up and killed him?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
Finn Allen, fresh off Alex’s private plane from London, England, showed up at the perfect time and saved Honor when he couldn’t. If his mating bite wasn’t deep and firm on her shoulder, he would have been jealous. As it was, they had a sparring date as soon as he felt well enough. Part of him wanted to tear into the tiger now while the other half reminded him that lazing in bed with a naked Honor was never a bad thing.
“And then…” When she faltered, he picked up the retelling.
He went over the way Finn carried her, their journey to the pride house with an enraged half-shifted tiger behind the wheel, and then the brawl that nearly destroyed the landing at the top of the stairs.
“Grayson.” Her tone was chiding, but a grin lingered on her lips.
“What?” he grumbled. He didn’t feel bad. He didn’t. “The man was trying to carry you into our den. I wasn’t about to have another male in here. I let him get you up the stairs, didn’t I?”
“You were injured. He was trying to help.”
He shrugged. “Now he’s injured. It all balances out.”
Besides, Grayson had only punched the male for trying to enter Grayson’s den with Honor in his arms. It wasn’t like he scratched him or anything. A nice blow and then he caught Honor while the big guy was on his way down. Quick and easy and no strange male in his territory. After nearly losing Honor to Angus, his cat was more than a little possessive.
“Grayson.” She rolled her eyes. “What happened then?”
Then… He really didn’t want to go there, but he had to before the reality of life’s changes hit them. “You and I cleaned up and I tucked you into bed.”
“I don’t even remember that.” She shook her head.
“No, I doubt you would. You were pretty out of it, but you kept grumbling about getting into bed dirty. So I propped us both up while we showered off. It wasn’t pretty, but it got the job done.”
“Why didn’t you get a
nyone’s help?” A horrified, wide-eyed look came across her features. “My God, they weren’t still fucking, were they?”
“No.” He turned his head away and coughed. “I might have been a tiny bit possessive and refused to let anyone touch you. Hypothetically.”
“Grayson, we were both half dead.”
He shrugged. There was no point in denying the truth. “Honor, you’re mine. Mine. That was threatened last night and my lion didn’t give a damn about how injured we were, no one was coming through us to get to you. It”—he shuddered, the cat pushing forward with the need to stake a claim on her body, to wipe away any remnants of that tiger on her skin—“it killed me to let another carry you. Once I got you over the threshold, there was no way anyone else was coming through the door. Period.”
She grinned at him. “So, you like me a little then?”
“Brat.” He lightly tapped her butt, watching for any negative reaction from her, and he inwardly sighed in relief when none came. “I love you, you know that.”
“I do. I love you, too.”
“Good.” He brought his hand up and ran his fingers through her hair, watched as the strands dropped from his digits. “Love me enough not to kick my ass?”
He winced; that probably hadn’t been the best opener.
“About what?”
Well, he was stuck and it seemed the only direction open to him was down and deeper into the hole he’d created. Finn had glared and growled at him last night, reiterating his order just as Grayson slammed the door in his face.
Tell her.
Two words, so easy and so difficult at the same time.
“You know the council was after Angus and his father.”
“Of course.”
“They went after the other adults as well. Many of them were found guilty of violating several of the council laws.” She nodded and he forced himself to push on. “The majority of the cases ended with a death sentence. The council has asked—”
Her gasp cut him off. The stricken expression filling her features and the tears clouding her eyes tore at his soul. He should have kept quiet and simply moved them to another town so she wouldn’t have to deal with the repercussions from the council’s actions. Overkill? Sure. But then again, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Honor.
