by T. S. Joyce
She opened like a flower for him, and he responded perfectly. More touching, more rubbing. His hands were memorizing her body, exploring every curve of her arms, her shoulders, neck, down to her hips, her waist, then up, up to her breasts, full and ready, pressing against the thin cotton of her sleep dress.
She groaned when he massaged her. His rigid body was the perfect contrast to her soft one. He lifted her, wrapped her legs around his hips, and kissed the devil out of her as he walked them toward the house.
He wasn’t stopping. Not this time.
Her excitement grew with every step through the yard, every creaking porch stair, the air from the opening door brushing her skin. It grew with every inch they got closer to the bedroom down the hall.
At the bed, she hesitated, paused her kissing. She looked at it and was assaulted by a dozen horrible memories that had been made in a bed like this.
Ford allowed her the moment, but then stole it back. He hooked his finger under her jaw and pulled her back to him. Kissed her gently. So gently. Good monster. Good, good monster.
She closed her eyes and let him take control. Let him lay her on the bed. Let him press her back into the mattress, let him kiss her lips, her throat, her collarbone.
The rip of her nightdress should’ve scared her, but fear didn’t exist with Ford. Her mate, her mate, he banished terror like he banished ghosts. Who could ever hurt her when Ford was around? No one. She was untouchable to everyone. Everyone but him.
He pulled her shredded nightdress off her and tossed it to the floor, his eyes blazing with an intensity she hadn’t seen since that night in the mirror. His hunger wasn’t intimidating. She reveled in it. Ford wanted her. Her. The Broken had become The Enough.
His hands felt divine on her skin as he dragged his fingertips up her thigh to her hip, gripped her there. His beard felt so good as he rubbed his face back and forth across her breasts. She ached for more of him. For all of him.
He eased up just enough to unfasten his jeans and shove them down his powerful legs. She had this stunned moment. Ford was pure muscle, pure rutting male, masculinity, confidence. He was everything she could ever want in a man. His tattoos, his scars, his fiery eyes, and that beard called to her body. His six-pack flexed as he settled over her. And when he rested his bare chest against hers, his full weight on her, she sighed in utter relief. Nothing had ever felt so good as his skin against hers. Safe. She was safe.
His swollen cock was pressed between her legs, and as he moved his hips in shallow thrusts, she grew wetter and wetter just from him touching her there. He was so big. So intimidatingly big, but she was ready. He drew her nipple into his mouth, then reached up, gripped her hair, and pulled gently until she arched her back against the mattress and groaned. And then he rocked his hips back far enough to position the head of his cock at her entrance.
“Beg,” he rumbled.
“Please, Ford. I need you.” She’d never felt the truth in her words so much as right now.
He flicked the tight bud of her nipple with his tongue, and she groaned again and spread her knees wider, inviting him.
Ford’s entire body flexed as he curved his hips against hers, pushing his dick deep inside her. Sora’s fingers clawed his back, and she murmured his name for how good it felt to be filled with him. He moved steadily, pumping into her deeper and deeper until they were utterly connected. Every stroke was delicious, driving her toward that pressure in her middle she’d never thought she would feel again.
She was panting now, begging for more, pleading. Fords words in her ears only turned her on more. “Fuck, I’ve missed being inside of you. You gonna come for me? Good girl, getting so wet. Mmmmmm.”
He was good at this, talking, getting her revved up. Sora couldn’t even think straight. All she could do was ride the wave of what he was doing to her body. This man owned her, body and soul, and he was taking such good care of her needs. Faster and deeper, he thrust into her now. She rolled her hips to meet him, over and over until she was gone. There was no more scared Sora left. That girl was dead, killed by the Dark Lion. Her body shattered around him, throbbing so good she cried out over and over. Ford rammed into her and growled out the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. His dick throbbed so hard and deep it left her release pulsing on and on.
And when his throbbing eased and her body felt sated, he kissed her again.
“No one will ever hurt you again,” he said.
Those seven words created the most important promise of her life.
They meant he was staying. They meant he was choosing her back.
“Ford,” she whispered, stroking his cheek.
“Mmm,” he growled softly.
She couldn’t help the smile on her face as she told him what she saw. “We’ve filled the whole room with bright purple.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sora adjusted the shutter speed and aimed her camera at Ford again.
He didn’t know she was shooting him. This wasn’t why they’d come here. She was supposed to be learning the camera, taking pics of flora and fauna, practicing for Rose’s greenhouse pictures while subtly ignoring how terrifying Ford looked.
Day five of coming to the New Tarian Pride territory.
The first day was the fight when he’d retrieved the camera.
The second day, he had ghosted the edges of the territory, trying to get used to the scent of males.
Day three, Sora had waited on his motorcycle for him, determined to support him. He’d gotten into a fight with Ronin that day. It was bad, and both bruisers had been hurt. Sure, they healed fast, but it was hard to stand on the sidelines with the other lionesses and let them work through that battle. Her respect for Ronin had grown because he was allowing this. He was allowing this broken Dark Lion in his territory every day. And she knew deep down to her bones…he was allowing this for her.
Day four, Ford had asked her to bring the camera and distract him while he sat in the woods in New Tarian territory as he tried to keep from Changing.
Day five, today…Ford had settled into a green plastic chair on the edge of the clearing and stared at the big house. The entire Pride had taken this beautiful Saturday to go swimming a mile away at the river. Everyone seemed to need a break from the tension, but not Orion. He’d stayed here and had made his way to the porch of Ronin’s house. He lived in a one-room cabin near the back of the territory, but he’d sauntered right up to Ronin’s porch as soon as Ford had sat down. And now her brother was just sitting there, staring back at Ford. Today would be another fight with her brother if Ford couldn’t keep the lion under control.
Orion had a limp from their last fight. He probably always would now.
And Sora knew down to her bones, Orion was trying to help Ford, too. For her. He would bleed for her again. She loved her brother dearly. No one would ever understand the sacrifices he’d made for her because he was quiet with his good deeds. But she watched him and counted his gallant gestures, and she respected him more and more.
Ronin was always meant to be a king here.
Ford was meant to be king of his own Pride.
And Orion…he was a king, too. He just hadn’t found his place yet, but Sora knew he would. As soon as he thought she was okay, he would.
Sora reviewed the last couple of pictures. Getting a little better. She’d purposefully left the instruction manual at home. Errr…at the place they were staying. The Old Tarian big house. Sora shook her head slightly and then re-focused on a ladybug marching up the stem of a dandelion.
She had a list of baby step victories she’d memorized because she had goals now. She had a future to go after, and it was bigger than she’d thought she was destined for, but fuck it. Was she scared to try and fail? Hell, yeah. But that was the point of living, right? Push and grow and be better than the day before, and see how much she could accomplish by the end of her life. So she was going to do this, even if she was scared. Someday, she wanted that life Ford had talked about:
The studio.
Learn the camera.
Take Rose’s flower pictures.
Learn how to build her website.
Take pictures of the Tarian Lionesses looking like badasses as a thank-you gift for them and their mates.
Someday, when she was brave enough, ask Ford to marry her. Because once upon a time, he’d been human, and marriage had meant just as much as claiming a mate.
Make Ford happy. Support him as he became the king she knew he was capable of.
Live happily ever after. (She’d already started that part, but it was still good practice to add things like this to important lists.)
Sora took another picture of Ford exhaling a long, steadying breath. Someday when he was better at this, she would show him these pictures to remind him of how far he’d come. She believed in him that much, just as much as he believed in her.
So here they sat, the Dark Lion, Ford, and the White Lion, Orion, both ready to brawl, and both willing to bleed to make Ford better. For her.
Who was she? Just a woman who’d gotten tripped up in her life. She didn’t deserve any of this effort, but she was going to spend every day making sure the boys knew how grateful she was.
Sora took another picture. Click. She had the settings on black and white, but she would add the gold to Ford’s eyes later. He was sitting in the chair, leaning forward, his back straight and tense, his elbows on his knees, murderous eyes on Orion, fists clenched, jaw clenched, lips twisted into a snarl. His hands shook, but he stayed human. Little victory.
Orion broke the glare, pulled his phone from his pocket, and checked it. Checking the time perhaps? But the troubled look on his face set off a red flag. And when he looked at Sora, his eyes were nearly white.
Sora’s phone vibrated in her back pocket. Slowly, she checked a text from her dad. All it said was, Every drop of this blood is on your hands.
A scream of terror echoed through the mountains.
Sora stood up in a rush. “Annamora?” she whispered, scanning the woods.
The roaring that followed rattled the ground beneath her feet.
Orion was already striding for her, peeling off his shirt. “He’s here.”
“Who’s here?” Ford growled, standing to his full height.
“Our dad,” Sora said, running for the woods. “He’s after the New Tarians!” My friends, my friends, he’s after my fucking friends! He couldn’t just let her be happy. Couldn’t do it. Shitty father.
“What are you going to do?” Ford asked from behind them.
Orion answered without even turning around. “Kill him.” His white lion ripped out of him, and he hit the ground on all fours in a sprint.
Ford caught up to her, strides long and powerful. He grabbed her by the shoulders with rough hands. “Sora—”
“I’m not going back inside. I’m not hiding!” He couldn’t make her! He couldn’t make her! She wasn’t some trinket on display. Not anymore. Her lioness was snarling in her chest. Let me out.
Ford’s eyes flashed with intensity. “I need you to Change.”
A roaring rattled around in her head, and she thought she’d misheard him. “W-what?”
“Change and stay with me. Keep me from killing one of our own.”
Sora gritted her teeth and nodded once. “Okay. Forget rehabbing the lion, Ford. Let him out. I’ll take care of the rest.”
His eyes blazed bright yellow, and his face morphed into the Dark Lion. The power of his Change blasted her backward, and she landed hard on her backside. He was already running for the woods, a cannonball. He was aimed and fired, but he didn’t care about victims. Some were good and some were bad, and Sora needed to direct his path of destruction.
Panting, Sora closed her eyes and called her. She called the lioness. Oh, her animal had been hiding for so long, but the echo of Annamora’s scream filled up her head and drew the dark from her. It woke the sleeping fury.
Sora huffed in pain as the lioness shredded her skin and bones. She was dizzy with pain as she lay there, Changed for the first time in weeks. Ford, Ford, Ford. Orion, Ronin, Kannon, Rose, Emerald, Katy…Annamora.
Sora peeled her lips back over her razor-sharp teeth and bellowed as loud as she could just to get the last tingles of the change out of her. And then she ran.
She ran as fast and hard as she could, faster than she’d ever run before. She followed the trail of purple smoke, reaching for the Dark Lion. He would lead her where she needed to go. Hands of smoke. This way, this way. She dodged trees, brush. Low-hanging branches whipped at her face, but she flattened her ears and ignored the sting and ran faster. Her bond was thickening, pulsing, darkening to the color of plums. The Dark Lion was poisoning the bond again. Good Ford. Be the monster.
She could hear them so clearly now—the struggle, the pain. The dirt had been kicked up by the time she skidded into the clearing near the river. Shapes and shadows were at war inside a cloud. There was this split second when, horrified, she took everything in, a mental picture she would never forget as long as she drew breath.
Orion was closest, fighting the lion she’d grown up with, the one she used to call Dad. She had no sympathy for him. His fate was his own damn fault. Orion was shredding him, the man who had sold her body for an alliance. The man who had helped to break her. No more leniency on men who treated women like mud just because it was tradition. This was the era of the New Tarians and, damn it all, she’d earned her place as a Tarian. The lionesses were raging, fighting full grown males, their powerful bodies tensed and showing every muscle. Kannon’s tawny lion and Talon’s silver lion were in a battle with three attackers, and Ronin was one-on-one with a behemoth every bit as big as him. Probably some Alpha in some Pride that Dad had conned into cashing in on her contract. And then there was Ford. He was trotting away from three motionless, bloody bodies, yellow fury-filled eyes trained on Ronin, bloody lips pulled back to expose his dagger teeth. Fuck.
She bolted for her mate, and just as he reached Ronin, she barreled into him, knocking him sideways. Two males were on them in an instant, and Ford twisted, wrapped his powerful arms around one, and that’s all she saw before she was slammed to the ground by a bruiser she recognized. He had a scar all the way down the side of his face, and his damaged eye was in the beginning stages of turning milky white.
Abel of the Old Tarians. He’d escaped the Tarian War and had allied with her Dad. He’d always been there to order her around, smack her if she wasn’t fast enough serving him and the other assholes in the Pride, treat her like dirt just like all the other lions in the Old Tarians. She roared as his teeth sank into her neck, just above her shoulder.
Missed the kill-zone, motherfucker.
Rage fueled her as she got her legs under his chest and shoved him off. He landed on all fours, circled her quick, ears flat, eyes promising her pain, his body tense. He’d come here to hurt her friends. To hurt her. But she wasn’t the Sora he used to know.
No man would ever hurt her again.
She charged him, claws out, tail twitching for balance as she flew through the air. She latched onto his neck, wrapped her body around him, and sank her claws in, then braced for impact as she sailed for the ground on her back. As she slammed to the ground, the air whooshed out of her lungs thanks to the weight of Abel on top of her.
It hurt. A man had hurt her, and she just lost her mind. Snarling, clawing, ears back as she slapped her claws against him. She needed him to stop struggling, stop fighting her. Her claws on her thick hide, teeth wherever she could find purchase, she ripped and shredded, but he was so much bigger than her. His paw raked across her face so hard she hit the dirt with a thud. Fast as a bullet, he was on her. No time, no time, his teeth were coming for her throat, and all she could do was curl in and hope to protect it. She closed her eyes, but a roar rattled her bones, and Abel’s weight disappeared. She opened her eyes just in time to see Ronin slam him into a tree, then he twisted and met the three lions attacking him from behind. Abel was too slow ge
tting up. It gave her time to take stock of what was happening. Ford was in a brawl ten yards away, but his eyes went to Ronin, and he didn’t look angry. He looked shocked. Maybe because Ronin had put his neck at risk to help Sora, she didn’t know. Her attention landed on a fight near her. Terrence was fighting a new Tarian named Gray. Why? Why were the New Tarians fighting each other?
Every drop of this blood is on your hands. That’s what Dad had said. This blood was on her hands? If she was going to Hell, she was going there thoroughly. Let all this blood be on her hands then.
Sora stopped thinking. She stopped thinking and let the lioness have her completely and ran toward the lions attacking Ford. She only caught flashes of what she was doing. Like little pictures in her mind where she would come to acute awareness. Arms around one. Taste of iron. Claws damaging anything she could reach. The roars and snarls in her own throat were something she didn’t recognize. Pain on her back leg, and then revenge on the lion who caused it. Sticking right by Ford. Pushing him toward the lions who deserved his wrath. Steering their battle away from the New Tarians. Hurting anything that hurt him, and he was doing the same. It was so fast, all instinct. He was a blur, spinning, dirt kicking up, his long powerful arm blasting down on one lion as she fought another. Him turning and ripping the lion away from her while she jumped on the stunned male he’d left.
On and on, they fought like they were one until they were fighting in a cloud of black smog and dirt. And when their last attacker was unmoving on the ground and nothing else came for them, Sora stood beside him, panting and exhausted.
The dust settled, and she could see them. The surviving lions of the Deadlies Pride and their allies were standing at the edge of the woods. Lions and ghosts, just watching them.
Ford’s gold eyes searched her face for a moment before he walked forward. She stayed with him by his side and there they were. The New Tarians were gathered around Terrence. He was hurt, holding his stomach, bleeding like a stuck pig.