by Mason Sabre
He paused and met Malcolm’s watchful eyes. “Would it be okay if I spoke to Gemma first?” He felt he needed to. With something so big between them, surely it was right she agreed to him putting his name on the dotted line and signing them both into a contract.
“Of course.” Malcolm leant back in his seat. It was an odd sight. Keith leaned back, and it was with ease. He slumped at the waist, his small belly that had started to round and firm poked out a little, spreading the gap between the buttons of his shirt, but when Malcolm sat back, his back remained rigid, his shoulders squared. Even in relaxation the man was an air of power and authority.
“Do you not want to mate with Gemma?” Jane asked. Even Karl could pick up on the tone of worry that marred her question.
“I do. I just … I don’t feel right, you know? She’s not here, and here we are all signing papers, signing something that is so big in her life. I’d like her to be part of it when I do it.”
Jane’s eyes almost fluttered with that. She’d not have been out of place if she put her hands clasped in front of her heart and arched her back in approval. “Such a romantic.”
Karl’s face flushed. No that wasn’t it. But it didn’t matter.
“I think Gemma is outside,” Emily said, rescuing him and looking at Malcolm for him to nod his agreement.
He did.
“Do you mind?”
Malcolm said nothing, but Emily offered him a warm, comforting smile. “Go ahead.”
Gemma was sitting in the back garden. She was sitting on the table of a picnic bench, her feet on the seated part. She was perfect, beautiful … his. It was almost like a whisper in his chest as he watched her a moment. Her hair shone where the light from the house hit it, creating almost a fiery glow from her. It wasn’t quite red, not quite blonde, or even brown, but something that was a mixture of it all. He wanted to run his fingers through it, to use it to pull her to him.
“It’s a nice evening for a pack run,” he said quashing down the fight his tiger was about to start and looking for the safe ground, the easy place to talk.
Gemma turned her head, casting a glance at him over her shoulder and making her look even more appealing. It sent waves of arousal through his body. She didn't get up from the table, but she sat back, relaxing with her hands out behind her so she could lean on her arms. “It is.”
Karl brushed his own hair back. His was black, long, and it stopped at his shoulders. “How is the car?” he asked when he got closer and dared to step into her domain.
“Still working.” She offered him a smile. A sweet, slow smile. He might not have been the most observant of their species, but even he could see that there was something wrong, something bothering her.
“Is everything okay?” So much as he wanted to mate with Gemma, wanted to make her his. She turned him on in ways that no other tiger ever had. He didn’t want to mate with her if she wasn’t happy about it. Forcing the females of their kind was the act some males thought they had a right to … thought they were entitled, but he didn’t want a woman just because she was a tabby. No. He wanted a tiger, a proper tigress who wouldn’t bore him with a constant yes to everything he asked. That was probably why he hadn't mated yet. Hadn't bothered. Every tiger he’d come across had come to him with the pure thought of carrying on their genes, giving into the reproductive urges. He wanted more than that.
“A weird day.” She moved along the table top so he could sit next to her. She gave a sigh, pushing her breasts up and then down as she slumped back into her position.
He didn’t go to sit next to her, didn’t take the seat she had offered. Instead, he stood himself in front of her, pressing the edge of the bench into his shins. Friends sat together, friends sat, so they were side by side, staring out into the evening. She was more than that. He could still remember the sweet taste of her against his lips, still feel how her nipples felt between his teeth.
She had to tilt her head back to look at him, had to move to give him room. He leant down to her, meeting her mouth with his, daring to kiss her again. The last time he had seen her, he had almost taken her completely. He pressed his lips against hers, warm and soft. She kissed him back, but it wasn't like it had been at his house. It didn’t hold the same relaxed feeling to it.
Pulling back enough from her, he left his hands resting on her thighs. “Are you sure about all of this? You can still change your mind.” Her skin was cool against the evening air. She wore shorts, leaving her legs bare.
Sliding a hand down to his, she stopped just as the tips of their fingers touched, as if she didn't dare to lace her fingers between his. “I’m sure.”
There was that smile again, weak, not full or reaching to her eyes. It made Karl want to ask more, yet he didn’t know what the question really was. Asking her again if she was okay would probably fire her temper, and that was the last thing he wanted. “I haven’t signed the papers yet,” he said.
That brought a fire to her eyes, a shock that surprised him and pleased him all at the same time. “Why?”
He slid a hand along hers, taking her fingers between his, reaching for a connection between them, a small spark. “It didn’t feel right to do it without you. It felt more like I was buying you or something.”
Gemma gave a resounding snort and nodded. She let him hold her hand and keep his other on her leg. “Did your parents meet naturally, or were they matched?” She asked after a moment passed between them. “I mean …”
“Were they in love?”
He gave a shrug. It was hard to remember the good parts. “I don’t really know. I mean, they seemed in love when I was little. They doted on one another, but …”
“You never really asked?”
“No.” He shook his head. And he wouldn’t now. He never mentioned his mother. “I was …”
“Too young.”
Another nod. When he was small, his parents had always seemed in love. Like that was how it was supposed to be. They’d hold hands, kiss, joke, laugh. His mother had been the one thing his father saw, probably the only thing his father saw.
“Would you like to walk?” She asked Karl, slipping herself off the table and changing the subject. Maybe she had picked up on his distaste for the subject. “Pack will be here soon and then there will be no peace and quiet.”
The moon was peeking out already. Another hour and the pack would arrive ready to shift and run and hunt. Karl’s tiger was ready to go. It paced at the edges of his mind. He just needed the final invitation and he would be there. Hungry for the hunt, but also, for a place where he could belong. A place at Gemma’s side where he could run and no longer be just a pack member. Now he was something more, something important.
Gemma slid her hand into his as they walked, and he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. Mostly it was for him, to make sure she was really there, really his. His tiger reared inside, reaching out for her. He pulled her closer, pulled her close enough that her scent was all around him.
They walked along the path at the back of the house, under the windows where the light spilled out in a yellow glow with the life happening between the walls, a life so different from his own, yet soon, this would all be his. “Your father’s land is so big,” Karl said, nodding to the house.
It was. It was impressive. The land where his own house was spanned the length of the joining field, although he didn't really have a fence, so where his property legally ended was unknown, but this was all Davies’ property.
“It was one of the old working farms,” Gemma said. “Before they discovered the land was too close to the chemical works and the air around was too toxic for the cattle.”
The chemical works were just across the waters. Where Jessica had been killed, Karl understood. “Bet they're pissed now?” He said. The chemical plant had shut down long ago. Now it was just an eyesore on the horizon.
“I would imagine so.”
Karl halted, waiting for Gemma to take that last step and then realise he wasn't moving. She
pulled on his arm, and then stopped herself and turned, angling her head at him, her brows raising in question. “What is …”
He sucked in a breath, pulled her closer, almost slamming their bodies together. She was heat and promise. “This,” he said and then he snaked his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her closer, pressing his mouth to hers, and she let him. She opened her mouth and invited him in.
Where they were, there were no windows, no way for people in the house to see them. He kissed her with long sensual strokes of his tongue against hers, bringing a low, quiet growl deep within her. His tiger perked up in interest at the sudden contact.
Gemma caught her breath, gasping. She stood awkwardly in his embrace, and Karl almost feared that if he were to let go of her just now, she would run. He could feel the energy around her, feel her fear and her apprehension. “What is it? And don’t say nothing.”
She looked away and stared off into the darkness. Karl reached for her, sliding a hand along the side of her face, his palm cupping her jaw, he angled her to him.
“If you don't want me to sign those papers, I won't. Or we can wait.”
“No. I don't …”
“I know it’s all rushed. I know we don't know each other very well. Your father said it was urgent. I’d not be doing it now if it wasn't for him. We can take our time.” He was babbling. He couldn't help it. He was searching in the dark, blind, trying to find what bothered a woman he didn't really know.
“Why did you say yes?” Her question was accusing, but the tone was light, enquiring. It knocked him off balance a little.
His answer caught on his lips, not sure how to word it in a way that wouldn't make her hate him. He liked Gemma, wanted her, but he wasn't in love with her, not yet. He could be. He knew that much. That was why it was easy to say yes when Malcolm had offered his family free passage, free Society privileges on all levels. No more fighting to pay. No more hanging onto the scraps of what they could get. Joining Gemma, joining her family would give his dad and Jane security, safety. She might not have been his mother. She might have driven him to despair sometimes, but she had been there, his anchor. She had been the one to pick up the pieces his mother had left shattered on the ground. “Because I like you.”
Gemma chewed on the corner of her lip as she regarded him. “That's a big commitment for someone you only like.”
“Do you want me to not sign, Gemma? Is that what you're trying to tell me?”
“No. I just …” She puffed out her cheeks. “I don’t know.”
“It's frightening, if that’s what you want to hear. Strange, maybe. But I'm not afraid.” He wasn't. Not of this. Maybe he was afraid of himself and giving himself wholly to another person, a stranger. His father had told him it often happened this way. Sometimes love was in the contract before it was in the heart. Could he love Gemma? More so, could she love him?
“What if it doesn't work out?”
He brought his hand up to brush her hair back from her face. To his surprise, he could feel Gemma relaxing and that relaxed him too. Mating. Yes, they could do this. They would work, but if not … “Then it's over. I have seen first-hand what happens when a mating is wrong. I love my life, Gemma. I want to keep on loving it.”
“My father will not be so easy to convince. This is a contract too.”
He knew that. Knew the enormity of what Malcolm was asking. But there were ways to separate. Ways to live their lives even if they were joined. “We can come to some agreement. Freedom, perhaps. I know I can love you.” Their tigers fit. He could feel it. He was sure she would be able to too. Tigresses were not easily caught, not unless they saw the potential for strength and survival in their mates. It was what they’d want for their cubs, what their minds and bodies were naturally attuned to sensing. “My mother …” he paused at that word. It brought an acrid, almost bitter taste to his mouth, coating his tongue with such hatred.
He felt Gemma’s grasp on his hip tighten, a lover’s touch, but also a shifters calming gesture. One that spoke of support. Like everyone he spoke to, Gemma probably thought his mother was dead. It was easier that way. He worded it purposely. She was his shame … his dirty secret. No one ever dared to ask outright if she was gone.
“Your mother?” she prompted when he hadn't spoken for almost a full minute.
He held Gemma’s face still, quiet contemplation going through his body, but with it, with the idea of speaking of the woman who had given birth to him, hate ran down his spine like the sharp edge of a knife. “She left.”
He ground his jaw, pushed back things he didn't want to feel, didn't want to see or hear, or even remember. “You’re not my child anymore,” she had said to him as he had begged her to stay, pleaded with her until he was a heaving mess on the floor. And she had walked away. Walked and left him and his father.
“She left when I was eleven years old. I haven't seen her since.”
“I thought she was …”
“Dead.”
Gemma nodded, and Karl let his hand drop to her waist, holding her to him. She calmed him, calmed his tiger when it threatened to come up and lash out. That's how Jane had saved him. Saved him from a life on the streets as a stray when his young mind had never dealt with the rejection. She never gave up on him. “For what it is worth, she might as well be. She’s a stray now. Kind of.” When Gemma frowned, he added, “She left with a Human. Chose him over everything.”
As the last part came out of his mouth, words filled with hurt and pain he could never process, he let go of Gemma. Just to give him some space, some moment so he could get clarity of everything in his head. He’d never spoken of his mother, not to anyone. Not even his father or Jane. They had tried. They’d begged even.
“I’m sorry.” Gemma reached for him again.
“She didn't want to be tiger anymore. She didn't want us anymore.” The word he had meant to say was ‘me’ but he couldn't bring it to come from his mouth. It was too true, too hurtful, even now. “She had her tiger removed.”
Gemma stared at him wide eyed. “She had it cut out?”
He nodded. Cutting out their animal was like getting a chemical castration, although it wasn't their ability to perform sexually that was removed, it was their ability to shift to animal. He had almost died when she severed that connection between mother and son … when her tiger had died, but she hadn't cared.
“Why?”
He gave a shrug. “She chose to love another species.”
Gemma held his gaze for a long minute. “Like Jessica,” she said referring to the case. Karl wasn't sure it was so much like that. “I think many Others want what Humans are allowed. They want to love, and if that love is different, wrong. Shelley and Tom …”
“But it is wrong, isn't it?”
“Shelley?”
He nodded. “We aren't meant to mix. There are laws.”
“But sometimes it can’t be helped.”
“We can always make choices."
“You can’t choose who or what you love,” Gemma said.
Maybe … maybe they could.
Chapter 25
Gemma
The moon was bright white, almost silver in the ironic shades of their weaknesses, yet, it was the very thing that called to them, pleaded with them. Asked them to come home. Gemma stared at it, unblinking, with hope heavy at her feet where her father had thrown it, shattered it. He had smashed it into so many pieces she was sure she’d never be able to put it back together. She blinked long and hard, fighting back the pain in her chest … Cade was out there, somewhere, looking at the same moon she was, feeling the same things. His name was a whisper against her lips, so silent, that no one heard it, not even him.
She let the moon’s bright rays bathe over her, hoping to take some of it deep enough into her body so it could banish what she felt. Except every time she tried, every time she thought she was scratching at the edge of her sorrow, the image of Cade, standing with Natalie, filled her head. She would be there no
w, like Karl, taking her place by his side, with his family. Claiming her spot as his mate.
Karl gave Gemma’s hand a reassuring squeeze that made her almost gasp as he knocked her out of her thoughts a second later. He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her closer to him. His arm entwined with hers and pressed to the side of her, shoulder to shoulder. She squeezed back, grounding herself with him, grounding her tiger. His breaths were long and deep as he took the same pleasure from the night. At least it was filling him up, giving him something more than a deeper need or craving.
It was so raw in her she was certain, when her shift came, her body might simply split in two.
Her father’s pride stood around them. Other people, her father’s people, all ready to celebrate her union with Karl. To celebrate the dawning of their future alpha and her mate. They were at one of the running grounds, a simple luxury the Humans dared to give. They had no choice really. They could forbid shifting all they wanted, but the lunar call was something even they couldn't control. They would have to scorch the skies, turn the earth … something that would probably kill them too. So they allowed that night. They allowed for the usage of places to run and hunt and feed.
Gemma and Karl stood together, looking down on those who would one day be her people. Her father stood higher … higher than all of them giving his speech, welcoming each member of the Ellis family into his and asking for acceptance of his pride. From that night, Karl Ellis would be a member of the Davies family—on paper and in blood.
Gemma’s heart heaved with each word her father spoke … each nail he hammered into the cross that was holding her in place. Her head fought with the words as his voice boomed out across the night and cheers and euphoric growls echoed around them. This was their night—her night. Her mating night where the other tigers would offer their kills to Karl. They would feed him, provide for him, and in return, he would share. He would offer them his protection, his time, and his life.