“Get your head out of your ass, Mitya. How can I be responsible for what Ania decided to do while I was gone? She’s your wife. You’re the one who is supposed to handle her, not me. As for Rolan disappearing, he had to have help. He had to have known we had eyes on him. Someone ratted us out. Unless you think that’s me, stop yelling at me and let me think.”
“Maybe if you’d been here instead of fucking that woman every five seconds, none of this would have happened. We wouldn’t have been short of bodyguards if she hadn’t run sniveling to you that someone hurt her feelings, and Ania wouldn’t have gotten hurt . . .”
“Damn it, Mitya, that’s bullshit and you know it. Ania takes chances. That isn’t my fault or Flambé’s fault. Miron and Rodion overheard our conversation and had no fucking right to repeat anything we said. None. They know better.”
Sevastyan pressed his hand to his pounding head. Mitya was insane over Ania. He knew that. Ania had gotten it into her head to climb to the top of the loft when no one was around. She’d been in the garage working on her engine and just got frustrated. Instead of utilizing the skills of her leopard, she tried climbing the human way, missed a step and fell. She broke her wrist. Of course Mitya was going to lose his mind, but blaming Sevastyan—or worse, blaming Flambé—was ridiculous. To make matters worse, they’d lost eyes on Rolan. That meant Sevastyan was going to have to lock everyone down tight. He’d be everyone’s enemy.
“Whoa. Miron and Rodion overheard what conversation? What did they repeat?” Mitya’s voice was suddenly low. Menacing. “Something that had to do with Flambé?”
Sevastyan turned to face him. To glare at him. “Suffice it to say it wasn’t very nice. I can’t go into this with you right now. I have things to straighten out.”
He paced across the room again, Shturm raking at him cruelly. His leopard had never been so on edge. He couldn’t calm the cat. He was meaner, more ferocious and tenser than he’d ever been, ready to rip anyone apart at the least provocation. This wasn’t the time for Mitya—or anyone else—to defy or cross him.
Mitya seemed to be having equally as hard a time. Ordinarily, Sevastyan would be feeling just as upset over Ania’s broken wrist. Maybe that was partially the reason for his own furious temper. Why hadn’t anyone taken more care with her?
“No one should be repeating our personal conversations about our women, Sevastyan,” Mitya said, his tone indicating that he might just add his own retribution to Sevastyan’s.
“Hence the beating,” Sevastyan pointed out.
He forced air through his lungs, letting the positive sift through his brain rapidly. He had two teams of shifters already available to him. Drake Donovan had been very fast to answer his call for help. Gorya and Timur had listened to him. Without hesitation, they had managed to get Fyodor, Evangeline, the twins and Ashe out of harm’s way. They were supposedly vacationing in an undisclosed area. Knowing Timur, wherever they were, no matter how fun, they were locked down tight and very safe. Gorya had elected to stay and help protect Mitya, Ania and Sevastyan.
Sevastyan forced himself to stop pacing, ignored Mitya and faced his cousin Gorya. “I appreciate that you stayed behind, Gorya. Rolan’s hired quite the force to send against us. Most are mercenaries, not shifters. I’m fairly positive he’ll send in those men first to test our defenses. Or while we’re fighting them off, his shifters will try to come in quietly under cover of their fire. Mitya and Ania have a safe room that’s hidden and well supplied. They could live there for well over a month if necessary and they have three escape routes for both leopard and human from that room.”
“What will you do with your woman?” Gorya asked. He was draped on the wall, tall, lithe, even a little lean, all muscle, looking deceptively lazy. He was all muscle and flexible spine, a fighting machine, but he appeared to be easygoing, until one looked into his eyes—eyes that right now showed his concern for Sevastyan. He was always the peacemaker for his more volatile cousins.
Sevastyan sent Mitya a glaring challenge, one that betrayed the fact that Shturm was extremely close and furious. His eyes were all cat, pure amber, gleaming with malice at his cousin, daring Mitya to allow his leopard out.
“I had planned to have her go into the safe room with Mitya and Ania, but that’s impossible.” Even as he threw the accusation out there, he knew it wasn’t really Mitya’s fault. Part of his anger was the fact that he was beginning to think Mitya was right in that Flambé was never going to feel anything for him but her need for sex.
He turned to stalk out before Gorya could try to appease him. He didn’t want to be appeased. He wanted to let Shturm loose to fight the way he needed to fight. He could taste the rage in his gut now, a dark red that spread through his body, flowed in his veins, consuming both of them.
“Sevastyan.” Mitya stopped him at the door. “Wait. I know I’m acting crazy. I can’t seem to calm my leopard. He’s furious no matter what I do.” He sat at his desk, his head in his hand. “There’re things that have been going on that we need to talk about . . .” He broke off as someone knocked on the door.
Sevastyan was standing beside it and recognized Ania’s scent immediately. He opened the door and caught the unmistakable fragrance of his woman too. She was farther down the hall, standing several feet away, not even looking their way. She looked small, alone, too alone. The hallway was wide, the walls tall to accommodate the high ceilings, emphasizing her small frame. She kept her head turned away from Mitya’s office even when Ania spoke.
“I’m taking Flambé out to my garage to see my project, Mitya. Is it really necessary for us to have to wade through, like, seventy-five shifter guards to just get from here to my workspace?” There was a hint of amusement in Ania’s voice.
Sevastyan wasn’t amused. “Ania, Mitya doesn’t have a say in who is guarding you right now, only I do. We’re under lockdown. Just accept that anywhere you go on the property there are going to be guards. Lots of them. At some point, you might be told not to leave the house. If you can’t accept that, you might be forced to stay in a room. You know me. You know I don’t fuck around with your safety.” He liked Ania a lot—okay, if he ever used the word love, he could admit he had that emotion for Ania. He didn’t like to be harsh with her, but he’d rather be harsh than have her end up dead.
He knew Flambé liked Ania. If Flambé had allowed herself any friend from inside his circle, it was Ania. Now that he actually thought about it, he’d never seen her with any other friend. She didn’t talk on the phone to other women. She didn’t tell him she was going to go meet someone for drinks. When she did get calls, and those calls were numerous and could last for long periods of time, she was all business. He didn’t want to alienate Ania, not against him and certainly not against Flambé. Still, her safety and Flambé’s had to come first. In the end, if either woman died, so did their man. That was the bottom line.
Ania looked from her husband to him, going from challenging to vulnerable in one short moment. That look cut deep. He’d caught brief flashes of something very close to that in Flambé’s eyes. Ania moved past him, quicksilver like Ania was, and he didn’t have time to move out of her way. She brushed up against him and he scented blood. Ania? Bleeding? That time of the month maybe, but it didn’t seem quite right. It wasn’t his business, but still, it was worrisome.
Frowning, he pushed back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest, leaving the door open. He wanted to be able to keep an eye on Flambé while Ania talked to Mitya.
The moment Ania moved into the room, Mitya’s hard features softened. He spun his chair around immediately, his blue eyes sweeping over her from head to toe as if checking her for damage.
“I’m sorry I interrupted you, Mitya. I wanted to take Flambé to see my latest work out in the garage, but I should have just texted you or Sevastyan. I had no idea Rolan was anywhere near.”
That told Sevastyan that Mitya shared their hi
story with his wife. He and Gorya exchanged a long look. Ania had gone through one war already with their family when Lazar, Mitya’s father, had come to kill him. It couldn’t be easy to ask her to go through another.
Sevastyan studied Ania. She hadn’t hesitated as she crossed the room to go straight to her husband. She leaned into him. Everything about her body language screamed that she adored him. When she tilted her face up to his, the love on her face was almost so blinding, so intimate, it seemed wrong to witness it. Mitya bent toward her, his hands gentle as he cupped her face.
“We aren’t certain where he is, kotyonok,” he replied, calling his wife kitten, his nickname for her. “We just have to make certain you’re safe.”
Sevastyan glanced down the hall to Flambé. She never touched him outside of sex. She didn’t move her body close to his even when they were alone. She didn’t lean into him. There was no look of adoration unless he had her in the ropes, one of the reasons he wanted to tie her more and more. He loved that look on her face and in her eyes when he took her. She kept herself emotionally—and to an extent, physically—away from him.
He went very still inside. All along, his cousin had tried to tell him that he had made a mistake with his choice. He thought it was more about him being fucked up. He’d known all along he was, but then all of them, every Amurov, had thought they were—until they found their mate. Sevastyan had been different. The others had been able to stop having sex when their leopards had gone so crazy and wanted to tear apart any partners. Sevastyan had been unable to do so.
The craving for sex had grown stronger in him. The worse the rage, the more the need for sex built until he had no choice but to go to the club. Not that the differences ended there. Mitya might be extremely dominant, but his sex didn’t border on brutal. He didn’t want or need the kind of kink Sevastyan did.
Ania loved Mitya. She really loved him. He knew Evangeline loved Fyodor. Ashe loved Timur. Flambé didn’t want to even connect with him no matter what he tried to do. He reached out over and over to her. Every time he thought he was close, she retreated. Granted, he didn’t know the first damn thing about a relationship, but he was trying. He was going to have to face the fact that there was something wrong with him.
Abruptly, he turned and stalked out of the office, straight down the hall to Flambé. They’d had a good day the day before; at least, he thought they’d made progress. Today, she’d come with him to work and she’d been quiet, thoughtful, but she hadn’t completely retreated from him as she normally would have. He knew she didn’t like his cousin and avoided him as much as she could. Mitya was often rude to her. He was going to talk to his cousin and ask him to try with her, even though Mitya didn’t understand her.
He walked right up to Flambé where she stood, back pressed against the wall. There was nowhere for her to retreat. She straightened to her full height, which compared to his was ridiculous, so she tilted her head up as he caged her in, his hands on either side of her, his chest a barrier as his eyes blazed down into hers.
“Is there something wrong with me?”
Her long lashes fluttered. She looked genuinely puzzled. “What are you talking about?” She blinked again and her eye color changed. She gleamed with golden fury. She turned her head toward the office and he heard the hiss of rage. Behind her, where she’d braced herself against the wall with one hand, claws dug into perfect wood. “That bastard. Does he do that to make himself feel better? No, Sevastyan. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“He isn’t really a bastard.”
“You know he is.”
“Ania loves him.”
“I know she does.”
“But you can’t love me. What’s wrong with me?”
Her breath caught in her throat. Her lashes went down and then swept back up. The fury faded and for a moment he caught fear mixed with something so close to what he was certain was love his heart clutched tight in his chest. So tight it hurt. Burned. She did feel something for him and it terrified her. Still, he didn’t trust himself. He wanted to believe it so much he might have made up that very brief look. She had become protective of him for just a few moments, even if now she was stiff and prickly.
Shturm? He turned to the one companion he could count on. Through every nightmare, his leopard had been there for him, trying to protect him, trying to give him truth and stand for him, guard him when there was no one else. Does she feel anything at all for me besides fear? Anything like Ania feels for Mitya?
He tried to convey tender feelings much like he felt for his leopard, but it was hard when one had to use images. Shturm had been in the world a long time now, hearing and learning, and he was intelligent. He picked up words, but Sevastyan wasn’t certain if he grasped the concept of love.
She does.
Shturm felt aggressive. Every bit as moody and ready to fight as he did. He needed to be cool and in control when he planned his strategy against a master strategist like Rolan. At least his leopard had given him some much needed reassurance. Flambé was still running scared, but she had developed some feelings for him in spite of herself.
“There’ve been some complications, baby. Maybe danger. Remember I told you about my father, Rolan, and how much he despises us? He slipped into the States and was in Houston. I had eyes on him but he got past them and now he’s in the wind. I’ve got to lock everyone down.”
She nodded. “I understand. Do you want me to go home?”
He shook his head. “I’d prefer you work here where I know you’re safe. Our house is safe, but when I have my eyes on you, I just feel better. Ania said she wanted to take you out to her garage and show you something. The two of you can carry on as normal, just with a team watching over you. They’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. Ania is used to it and hopefully you’ll get used to it as well.”
He saw the beginnings of a protest, but she locked it down immediately. He detested that. She didn’t argue. He wished she would. Before, he took her compliance as part of her submissive nature, but now he doubted her silence had anything at all to do with compliance or even submission. Outside of sex, and from the little he’d managed to get out of her, Flambé didn’t show her submissive side to many. She most likely simply didn’t argue and went her own way when she chose. That was not a good thing for him.
Ania came up to them. “I’d like to show Flambé some of the things I’ve been working on, Sevastyan.” Her tone was placating. She put her hand on his arm and looked up at him. He could see the affection in her eyes.
Flambé made a single sound, a low vibrating noise in her throat that was a growl, cut off by a choking cough. Sevastyan immediately caught her arms and pulled her to him, worried her throat might still be sore. He’d given her honey in tea before she went to bed and again that morning before they’d come to his work. The moment he gathered her against him, he felt his male leopard’s smug satisfaction.
They did not like another female touching us.
Sevastyan felt a little smug himself even though Flambé all but pushed off his chest to get away. She might not ever be one of those women who was overly demonstrative toward him in public. He resisted catching her red topknot and tugging her head back so he could take command of her mouth and light a match to her dynamite. Instead he brushed a kiss on top of her head.
“Have fun with Ania, baby,” he murmured.
* * *
* * *
FLAMBÉ followed Ania down the hall, past her office to the very end where the back door leading to the garage and gardens were. She found it really quite lovely, but wished she could implement a few changes. The pavers were perfect, the darker colors showing off the flowers and bushes with their variegated leaves, but the path wasn’t quite wide enough and needed more of a definition. She would plant some more lacy vines going up trellises and the low fencing around the walkways leading to the garage.
�
�Are you all right, Flambé?” Ania asked as she stepped back to allow Zinoviy and Vikenti, the two bodyguards, to enter the garage while she stayed waiting for them to ensure no one was lying in wait to harm her in any way. Two other bodyguards, Trey Sinclair and Kyanite Boston, remained with them. They kept their distance, facing away from the two women, scanning the grounds around them, all senses enhanced by their leopards. Ania ignored all of the them as if she wasn’t aware they were hovering close.
Flambé refused to allow Flamme even close to the surface, although she would have felt safer. The bodyguards were too close and the female was getting far too near her heat. Flambé’s body already was so sensitive to touch without the added hormones of her female, she didn’t dare allow her to rise even for a moment with the men in close proximity. It would be a disaster for everyone. She had no doubt in her mind that Sevastyan would murder any male that challenged him for her—and they would if Flamme or she became seductive.
“Yes, I’m just uncomfortable.” She kept her voice as low as possible. Leopards could hear about five times better than humans and sometimes, depending upon the shifter, even better. She was careful, but she knew the guards probably heard her—and scented her. It was impossible to cover the scent of a female in heat, no matter how she tried.
“We’ll be inside in a minute and the guards will stay outside,” Ania assured.
They waited in silence, Flambé studying the way Ania cradled her wrist. The cast was slim and one that could be removed when necessary. It seemed very unlikely that a leopard could break her wrist. She tried to imagine various ways it could happen and none seemed too likely.
Eventually, Zinoviy and Vikenti returned and gave Ania the go-ahead. She flashed them a smile and hurried inside but didn’t close the door. “I love my space. No one comes uninvited, without my permission, unless Sevastyan says we’re on lockdown for a reason,” Ania informed her. “I told Mitya I wanted a place to design my own cars, work on engines and just disappear for a few hours without feeling like I was getting swallowed up in his world.”
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