The Lion's Loyalty

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by Emilia Hartley


  ***

  Van and Carol finished installing the flooring, throwing barbed jokes back and forth. He didn’t bring up the phone call again, even though it was sitting in the back of his mind and driving him mad.

  He’d lied about what the caller had asked. Carol didn’t seem to notice, which meant she hadn’t heard what the caller said. When he lied, Carol’s face had fallen with relief. While the phone call made him worry, it was her reaction that made his fear all the sharper.

  The person on the phone had asked for Carol.

  The unfamiliar voice set off alarms in the back of Van’s mind. It could have been a family member searching for her, considering she was a changed shifter who had left her life behind after the change. It was a reasonable assumption, but the voice had not been hopeful. It hadn’t felt nice. Instead, there was a foreboding tone to it that spoke of possession. Like the caller was mad that something had been stolen from him.

  It enraged Van and his beast. The lion had crouched in his chest all night, growling. It’d taken some effort to hide his anxiety from Carol. Maybe he should have been honest with her, but it didn’t feel right. Not when she’d been so tense at the sound of the phone ringing. It was like she was waiting for something to fall upon her head.

  He would be there when it happened. Van would not let anything hurt her. And when she was ready to open up and talk about it, he would be there. He only hoped that would be sooner rather than later. It would be nice to know what she was waiting on.

  Chapter Six

  She didn’t know what to wear. All of her clothes were either ancient or hand-me-downs from thrift shops and other shifters. And it all looked horrible. Carol tried on several pairs of jeans, two pairs of athletic leggings, and a pair of shorts before throwing them all back into the closet with a huff.

  She didn’t understand why nothing felt right. The clothes fit, more or less. Some were loose because of her weight-loss, but none were tight or uncomfortable. So, why did it matter? They were just going to walk through a mildly mountainous area. There would be dirt and bugs and possible rain.

  Yes. She had checked the weather forecast.

  Again, reaching for the athletic leggings, Carol gave picking an outfit another try. The midnight blue leggings hugged her curves better than the jeans or shorts. If anything, they gave her the illusion of curves. She’d been a thin woman before the doctors had kidnapped her for their experiments. Over time, she’d only gotten leaner.

  The leggings made it seem like she had curving thighs and not gawky colt’s legs. The leggings would do, but when she turned to pick out a top, she felt the world fall out from beneath her. Nothing matched. There was a stain on the shirt she liked. Others had holes in the armpits.

  She threw them back onto the bed and collapsed with a growl. Why was she so bothered by this? It was just a hike through the woods!

  She was about to roll off the bed and try to find something else when there was a knock at the door. Panicked, she fumbled for her phone. The time had passed by without her notice. Van was already outside and waiting for her.

  In a leap, she got to her feet. She spared a moment to look in the mirror, fixing the strays escaping her blonde ponytail. She was wearing a sports bra. It was more covering than some shirts these days. Her stomach was flat, and the waist of the athletic leggings rose high.

  Technically, she could just wear the sports bra. Feeling brazen and out of options, she decided that she would rock it. On her way out the door, she snatched the backpack she’d filled with bottles of water and snacks.

  Outside, though, no one waited for her. She paused. Her heart gave a single heavy thump as she looked around. The back side of the bar was empty. It was only her, the dumpster, and the picnic table where employees took their breaks. She doubted Van was hiding in the dumpster.

  On instinct, she sniffed the air. Her wolf would have been proud, but she didn’t have time for praise. She was more concerned with the mystery knock. No kids were playing doorbell ditch. Not here, this far away from town. And a shifter bar, no less.

  The only scent in the air was human, though. No shifter would wear that many artificial perfumes. It would give most of them migraines. The unfamiliar scent nearly masked by the perfumes made her stomach turn. There was a chance it was…

  “You’re ready early,” Van said as he rounded the corner of the bar. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder and the hems of his pants were tucked into the tops of his boots.

  He looked rugged, like the kind of man who could drink whiskey out of the bottle, gut a fish and grill it, and maybe knew half the lines to a Shakespeare play. Carol didn’t know she had a type, but this was definitely it. He looked so good she’d forgotten her fear only moments ago.

  Once she regained control of herself, she scanned the trees around her. The scent had faded. Whatever the human truly smelled like had been hidden behind all the sensory noise. It was like he’d doused himself in lotion to cover his scent.

  Van’s grin faltered. “Is everything alright? You look shaken.”

  She let out a breath and tried to steady herself for the lie she was about to say. Instead, her lips betrayed her. The wrong words slipped over her tongue.

  “Not really. But there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Why had she said that? Van didn’t need to know about her problems. When he looked like he wanted to say more, she spun away from him and marched away from the conversation. He called out for her to slow down and stop.

  She kept moving forward but knew there was no running away from the small slip, so finally she slowed down. Embarrassment gripped her stomach and wouldn’t let go. She didn’t even look to Van when he caught up to her.

  He cast a wary look in her direction. She flashed a reassuring smile that she was sure was too much teeth. He seemed to take the hint and let the subject drop.

  “Are you ready for our hike? I’m kind of hoping to get a glimpse of this legendary dragon shifter.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You want to put our lives in danger?”

  “Like he would eat us. There are cattle bigger than us. Grade A beef.”

  “Maybe it’s a woman and she likes to eat know-it-all men.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks. “Do you think I’m a know-it-all?”

  She halted and put her hands on her hips as she turned to face him. “Is that your weak spot? You’re insecure about how much you know? I think you’re better than that.”

  He cocked his head and gave her a queer look, like he didn’t understand her. Slowly, a smile overtook his features. “You’re a strange woman, Carol.”

  “My horrible sense of humor is all I have left. I might as well do my best to cling to it.”

  “I don’t think it’s all that horrible. Though I wouldn’t pull any of this with Dante. He might not appreciate it.”

  Carol snorted. “I’ll tease the alpha when I finally want to die.”

  Van grabbed her arm and pulled her to his body. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t want to hear those words leave your mouth ever again.”

  Her breath hitched. She was forced to tilt her head back to look up at him. His eyes burned with fear and determination, a spark that ignited her core into an unbearable inferno. One that seemed to ripple up him, too, because his lips parted, and his gaze dropped to her lips.

  “I want you to want to live.”

  She blew a breath out her nose. It was hard, some days. She knew she wanted to keep going and survive, but how she would do it always felt out of reach. Threats lurked around every corner. It felt like her life was one giant obstacle course and exhaustion was catching up to her.

  For a moment, she considered telling him about the buyer. Then, she pressed her lips together and ripped herself away from him. She felt bereft, at first, but the inferno began to die down and she felt like herself again.

  ***

  Carol hid behind that insufferable wall of humor. Van wanted to grab one of those rubber mallets they’d used to p
ut down the flooring and smash his way through the wall. That wasn’t how he got her to love him, though. He couldn’t force anything. It had to be organic. Carol had to choose him.

  And he was starting to worry that she would always hide behind that wall, and that he’d never get a chance to earn her trust. She silently claimed the passenger seat in his truck. He’d packed two thermoses of coffee and brought along a bag of pastries.

  “I figured you wouldn’t feed yourself again, so I took the liberty of providing a proper breakfast.”

  Carol glanced in the bag then laughed. “If you think a packaged snack bun is a proper breakfast, my nutrition professors would love to swat you over the head.”

  The hike was long, and the sun had peaked high in the sky. Sweat beaded along her brow, but the way the light warmed her skin was comforting. They had taken their shoes off to trek through shallow streams and climbed rocky crags to higher paths. Her muscles hummed with the exertion.

  For once, her wolf was blessedly silent. She wished she could do this every day. Perhaps running would be good for her and her wolf. Maybe then they could have coherent conversations and the beast wouldn’t bombard her with panic all the time.

  Beside her, Van walked with liquid precision. No root or stone tripped him. He almost flowed around every obstacle. When he stopped and looked back for her, Carol couldn’t find a hint of sweat on him. She truly was out of shape.

  But she could change that. If she got out more. If she spent more time hiking like this, then she could grow strong again. Stronger than she had ever been before, actually. Because she hadn’t been given a chance to experience what it meant to be a shifter before the doctors took her.

  They’d found her in a weak and vulnerable state. Her wolf had been this wild new voice in her head. Her body had felt alien, like she’d been dropped into a vessel she’d never piloted before.

  “Well, come on and catch up!” Van shouted at her, waving his hands to egg her on.

  She shook her head and jogged up to him. When she nearly caught up, he laughed and darted ahead.

  “I’m not playing chase!”

  Still, he danced out of reach, always grinning at her. When she thought she would be smart and walk up slowly only to leap and grab him, he still managed to escape her grasp. She cursed, and he laughed. Soon enough, she found herself laughing, too.

  Van grinned wide, devilish in a way she’d never seen before. It made her heart beat double time. How did he affect her the way he did? She couldn’t figure out why he seemed to plant himself in her heart. Each day, it felt like the seed’s roots dug deeper. At some point, he would overtake her heart completely.

  Was it the way he fought to make her smile? Was it the plain and open way he spoke to her? She would never know because he was nothing more than Dante’s spy. The thought hurt, but it sobered her. She should have remembered that all along. No matter how comfortable he made her feel, he would always report to Dante.

  She had to keep it together around Van. There was no room for vulnerability, for her secrets to see the light of day. If they did, it would be the end of her.

  But the wolf in her didn’t agree. It looked to Van with affection. It urged her to step closer to him. Why her beast trusted someone who was nearly a stranger boggled her. It had been so long since she felt the luxury of trust that this seemed unfounded.

  “Do we need to stop and eat?” Van asked, slowly approaching her.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose when the beast inside her flung itself toward Van and nearly took her with it. The damned creature was insufferable. One moment, it wanted to run and hide from the world. The next, it was scrabbling to get closer to this nearly unfamiliar man.

  Maybe…just maybe, that meant she should get to know him. She wouldn’t have to spill any of her secrets if she asked him questions about himself. They clearly had all the time in the world now that they were alone in the middle of nowhere.

  Van led her to a small bench along the hiking path. It was just barely big enough for the two of them, like whoever had installed it hadn’t thought there would be more than one person hiking at a time. She never realized that benches were even made this small.

  Her arm pressed against Van’s, a feeling she let herself soak in for the time being. When he tilted an open bag toward her, she thought she would find a crunchy carb snack inside. Her fingers touched something wet instead, and she let out a squeal.

  “What the heck do you have in there?”

  Van laughed. “Calm down. It’s not eels or anything. They’re just pickles.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Pickles?”

  “They’re great for you. Plus, they’re cool and crunchy on a hot day. Go ahead and try one.”

  Dubious, she plucked a still chill pickle from the bag in Van’s hand. Just as he said, they were cold. The sour pickling liquid spread across her tongue and brought her senses to life. It was like the sun had dulled everything and lulled her near sleep, and the pickle perked her back up.

  “I can tell you’re enjoying them,” Van teased.

  “It’s like you think of everything. Are you always this prepared? Were you a boy scout before you were changed?”

  His expression flickered with confusion for a brief second. “I forget you don’t know much about shifters. There are some of us who were born this way. We didn’t experience the change like you or Rodrigo, but we were taught to always be prepared. There would always be a larger predator or an angry human to watch out for.”

  Carol didn’t know what to say at first. It took her a moment to realize she could relate. She was always looking over her shoulder now. While it hadn’t been that way her entire life, it often felt like the rest of her life would be her looking back. Constant vigilance was exhausting.

  “Do you have anything more substantial to eat in that bag of yours?” Her stomach rumbled and the wolf in her growled greedily.

  Though Carol wasn’t sure if the wolf wanted a snack or if Van was the snack. Being near him was confusing. He was Dante’s spy, yet he treated her with respect when he was around her. Not like he was taking notes on her behavior, but like he cared about her.

  He passed her a small pouch of sweet and spicy jerky. She stared down at it while searching for the right questions. She wanted to know more about this man and hoped that a glimpse into his life would give her the hints she wanted. If she could trust him, then maybe she wouldn’t have to feel so alone anymore.

  “Tell me about your childhood then,” she asked. “What was it like to grow up as a shifter? Were both your parents shifters? Just one?”

  He leaned back on the bench. It groaned and threatened to tip back. Carol had to sit forward, elbows on her knees, to keep it from falling. The position allowed her to look back at him and see the way his expression became distant.

  “My upbringing was…unconventional. My mom was the shifter. Another lion like myself. She was high in the pack before the last alpha came through and wrecked the order of things. New guy didn’t like having a woman in power.”

  Carol’s stomach turned at the sour tone of Van’s voice. He offered a reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. The urge to reach out and touch him was overwhelming. There was no reason her touch should help ease his heart, but she still wanted to try.

  “He didn’t kill her, but I had to watch her fall from grace. She fought and fought for her position, but the guy played dirty. When Dante mentioned that he wanted to challenge the asshole, I stood behind him. Dante had the brute force going for him. I had to be the brains of the operation. Damned fool didn’t even realize he was in love with Sadie at first. He’s that daft.”

  Carol laughed, but quickly covered her mouth. No one should laugh at their alpha. If Dante found out, she would be in a world of trouble. More than she already was.

  “I’m sorry you lost your mom,” Carol offered.

  “What? She’s not dead.” Van stared at her, deadpan.

  She jerked upright, all words crashing to a hal
t in her throat like a ten-car pile-up. She didn’t know what to say. Why had she assumed that his mother was dead? That was rude of her. She never meant to offend him like that. All she’d wanted to do was offer condolences.

  “You should meet her sometime,” Van added. “When Dante took control of the pack and made me his second in command, Mom decided to retire. She and dad are living the simple life outside of town. She comes around for the monthly hunts. She’d like you.”

  Carol’s world spun. Her heart raced at the thought of meeting Van’s mom. Why did that terrify her so much? Van was a packmate. He was a friend who offered to keep her company while she found her footing again. He was nothing more.

  And yet, the thought of meeting his mother was more terrifying than facing down Dante. It didn’t make sense, but feelings rarely did. They rose and slapped her like an ocean wave. Strangely enough, her beast did not echo this fear. It sat dormant, completely at ease in Van’s company.

  She wanted to curse the confusing beast. It never operated the way she thought it should. Instead, the beast rioted over the strangest things. Over the scent of familiar medical tools. Once a comforting smell, now a reminder of the nightmare she lived through.

  “I don’t know if I’m going to participate in the next hunt,” Carol said to avoid the subject.

  A look of concern crossed his face, but he didn’t say whatever it was he was thinking. The silence irked Carol more than if he’d come out and served her with honesty. She wished she could say she wasn’t weak and that she could handle whatever it was he wanted to say, but she knew that wasn’t true. Her state was fragile.

  Every moment was temporary. Every emotion was fleeting with the beast crouched inside her.

  Which made going on the hunt with the rest of the pack a bad idea. She couldn’t risk losing control in front of the others. Her life would be forfeit almost immediately. Dante would not allow her any more chances. Not when she was clearly a weak link in their pack.

 

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