by Kyle, Celia
“Tess…”
Why, why, why did she have to find a mate? Shifters spent their lives looking for their other halves, and she’d always prayed that no one would want her. Not with the risk of what she could become after mating. There was no telling… Tess’s heart broke, sharp bolts of pain overwhelming her as it splintered and cracked. Yes, she could love this man, this shifter who’d taken care of her every time she got into trouble. But she couldn’t allow it.
Blinking away her tears, she huffed. “You won’t give up, will you?”
“No.” Harding’s weight was soothing, his strength tempered with the tenderness he showed.
“You said you’d let me go. You said I had to find who hurt you and female Freedom supporters, and then you’d let me go. I haven’t done both yet, but I will—”
“I lied.” And he didn’t look the least bit apologetic about it, either.
Mirroring his movements from moments before, she nudged aside an errant lock of his hair and ignored the new stab of pain in her chest when he nuzzled her hand. He rubbed his rough cheek against her palm. A deep, rumbling purr came from within his chest, the sound vibrating and filling her. It stroked her nerves, bringing them to life, and that snippet of a beast within her took notice. The animalistic side of her perked up and shoved at her to take this man, make him hers. It demanded she reach for him, for a happiness that was assured by throwing herself into his arms.
God hated her, had taken his anger for her father and decided to rain it down on Tess. He dangled a pristine future before her, knowing she couldn’t have a bit of it. This time, the tears refused to be stemmed. She yanked her hand away and pounded a fist against his chest. She wanted Harding, more than anything before, and yet she couldn’t have him.
Tess sobbed, the sound wrenched from her soul, and she hit him again. Over and over, she struck his chest. Sorrow, good God, more agony than she’d ever let herself feel, encompassed her.
Harding never moved, never twitched as she pounded on him, venting her rage at her mother for succumbing to Alistair’s charms, at Alistair for making her what she was, at the world for merely existing. Her anger overwhelmed everything, burying her in an avalanche of crushing pain.
Dimly, she heard him, heard his whispered, soothing words. Baby… Shh… I’ve got you… Never gonna let you go, sweet…
That last simply spurred on more salty tears, the moisture trailing down her cheeks. Her throat hurt, throbbing in time with her pounding heart.
“Harding…” She croaked out his name and then whimpered. Unclenching her fists, she pulled him to her. She urged his weight more fully against hers, holding him close as she cried into his shoulder. He remained atop her, sheltering and protecting her from the world. Those low assurances never stopped, the sounds merely a hint louder now that his face was pressed against her neck. His alluring scent surrounded her, blanketing her in comfort. Now, this second, she truly felt safe.
Soft lips caressed her neck, the kiss not quite chaste but not quite more. It embodied comfort and a hint of wanting without pressuring her. He did it again, shifting his target and caressing a new spot of skin. Her ragged nerves were soothed by him, the frazzled strings settling with each new touch. Another kiss, and then another, relaxed her body in slow increments.
She wasn’t sure how much time passed, how long Harding sheltered her from the world. It seemed no part of her neck, and eventually shoulder, remained untouched. It wasn’t until her tears dried, and the shudders of residual pain eased, that he pulled back and looked down at her once again.
His body vibrated with restrained…something. She couldn’t quite discern his expression. Anger? Fear? Affection? More?
Quiet continued to reign as their gazes remained locked.
Then he spoke. “I know you’ve got a lot going on up here, some of it your own past and probably a good dose of my own, but you need to know one thing, Tess McCain: you are mine.”
“You don’t understand.”
Harding shook his head. “No, I don’t. And I won’t pretend that I do. But, I’m gonna prove to you that you can trust me. That I’m someone you can count on not to hurt you and that nothing, nothing, matters but you and me. Not this damned compound or the Council. I’m gonna protect you, Tess, even if it’s from your stubborn self.” He leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss. “You’re mine, maybe not in truth just yet, but you are.”
She wasn’t sure if her battered heart could take much more, could endure the truth of his words, but he kept going.
“You’ve spent your whole life on your own, fighting against the world that’s kept you captive, and now we’re asking for more from you.”
“I don’t mind.” Not really.
“I do. We’re not doing this again. The Council has other Sensitives that can meet with these women.”
Tess grimaced. “They won’t be as good.”
“Probably not, but I can’t go through this again, and neither can you. You slept longer than last time, and my cat is going crazy with the need to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”
Yes, God hated her and decided to torment her with what she couldn’t have. “I’m okay—”
“I need this, Tess. I know you’re not ready to mate. I don’t claim to understand, but I can deal with it. But only if I can get you out of here. I need you in my den, under my care, and surrounded by a pride I can trust. I’m gonna take you home and let others deal with this mess.”
More tears, these gentler, but no less annoying. Home. She hadn’t ever had one of those. Bare concrete walls had been the only home she’d ever known. “Home?”
“Home. Our home. I’ve got a nice little house near the pride home, and I’ve already called the Prime and given him a ‘heads up’ that I’ll be returning with you.”
His tone warned her not to argue, but she couldn’t hold her tongue. “Harding, Alistair—”
“Is dead, and no one in the pride blames you for what he’s done.” His gaze hardened. “You’re coming home with me. We’re gonna build a life together, and when you trust me, we’ll mate.” He waggled his eyebrows. “That doesn’t mean I won’t steal a few kisses and anything else I can get away with between now and then.”
Heat suffused her cheeks, the thoughts of what they could do without going as far as the mating bite slithering through her mind. She may not have experience, but she’d seen enough consensual sex through the years to imagine what it’d be like to be possessed by the massive shifter.
A quick rap of knuckles against her door forestalled anything else that may have happened.
In a single, flowing move, Harding rolled and stood tall between her and the door. His fists flexed once, and claws replaced his human fingers. He bounced on the balls of his feet as if prepped to attack whoever came into her room. “Enter.”
The door slowly eased open, cracking the tiniest bit until a head peeked around the corner. Tess easily recognized Ben. In an instant, Harding relaxed, but his claws remained. “Sir, just heard from the strip. The plane from Ridgeville is ready and waiting.”
With that, the door snapped shut and Ben’s heavy tread rapidly retreated.
“Ben? Plane?” She huffed. “How long was I out?”
“Two days. The worst two days of my life.” Harding took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, but he didn’t turn around. “I lived through my parents’ deaths and managed to survive what my pride did to me.” He turned toward her, his eyes nearly white with his cat’s presence. “But these last two days nearly killed me.” With a shudder, the claws receded, and Harding’s lion retreated. He held out a now human-shaped hand to her. She slid her palm over his, allowing him to help her from the bed. She stood on wobbly legs, but managed to hold her weight. “Millie and the Mastin sisters came with us while Jackie and any others found will remain at the compound. The Council will be separating out who may still sympathize with Freedom from those that really want help. Ben wanted to come along, and Stone trusts him, so he’ll be allowed
to stay in Ridgeville for a while.”
Two days. They were splitting up the remaining four and they were leaving and for some reason Ben was coming and… “The plane’s here? Now?” She finally took a moment to look around her room and realized that everything was gone. Everything.
“Now.” He tugged her close, and the anxiety that’d been growing inside her fled with his touch. “I had them pack you up, and we shipped everything to my house. Alex, the Prime, is already overseeing the remodel on our home. I looked at the plans for this place. They’re reinforcing the walls with steel to keep a lot of the voices out. By the time we get there, it should all be done. Dusty, but done.”
“For me?”
A finger below her chin had her tipping her head back to meet his gaze. “I told you: I’m gonna protect you with everything I’ve got. There will be no more scars on your body or your mind. I promise.”
And, for the first time in her life, Tess allowed herself to hope.
Chapter Six
“Sometimes, I wake up happy with the world and utterly in love. Then Alex leaves the toilet seat up. Answer: Make sure he doesn’t wake up. Unfortunately, that’d mean the loss of some kick ass bow-chicka-bow-bow. I’m so torn.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride, who loves orgasms more than she hates annoying men.
Getting Ben settled in at the pride house, even if he was an elephant, had been easy. Delivering the Mastin sisters and Millie to Gina, one of the pride’s single females, had been a piece of cake. Gina was a sweet lioness, and with no male sniffing around her, she’d been an ideal choice to house the women. Plus, there was the bonus of the pride’s Sensitives living a couple blocks over. Maddy and Elise could help the females he’d brought along, and he hoped they got through to the three ladies. At least enough for them to be able to eventually live on their own and interact with the public. Relocating everyone’s possessions and getting people settled? Yeah, all that had been easy.
Having Tess in his home, Tess in the shower inside his home, was a whole ’nother ball of “Lord Help Me.”
The water pattered against the tiled walls, the rhythmic tattoo of the liquid against the hard surface occasionally jarred by Tess’s shifting body. He imagined her in there: fluid sluicing over her curves followed by the bubbles of soap. Water would stick to her lashes and soak her hair so that it lay long and smooth against her back. The dark curls guarding the juncture of her thighs would beckon him, urging him to come closer for a taste. Well, he assumed they’d be dark, a deeper hue of red that would match her flowing hair.
He’d been suffering her so close for two days, and he was ready to go insane.
Harding growled and thumped his wayward cock. He wasn’t getting anywhere near her. He’d made a promise. He’d told her he wouldn’t rush her along, and he’d be damned if he went back on his word, no matter how much his beast snarled. The cat paced inside his mind, stalking back and forth with its fangs bared. It was pissed as hell at his decision to give Tess time. He wanted their mate now. Period.
A soft moan reached him, the sound low and sweet. Part of him wondered if it was an invitation, his mate asking for him to come to her without saying the words. Then he remembered that they’d been on the go since their plane had touched down two days ago. Between the flight, getting their people settled and meeting some of the pride, they’d been busy. So, yeah, she may moan and groan in there, but it was probably due more to the relaxing heat of the water rather than her touching herself as she thought of him.
Ah, he could always dream.
Of course, his dreams made him harder than a rock.
Another soft groan and he cursed his enhanced hearing, damned the lion inside him for its mere existence. He wouldn’t be so tormented if he were a normal man. No, he had the cat around to bolster him. Hell, torture him.
But no matter how hard the pain in the ass shoved, Harding wasn’t closing the distance between him and the bathroom door. He wasn’t going to try the knob and pray that it was unlocked. And he definitely wasn’t going to step into the same room as a water-slicked Tess.
Harding’s skin prickled, warning him that the cat was near the edge. He glanced at his arms, noting the cream-hued fur that emerged from his pores, and he bit back a curse. His beast was not taking “no” very well. Both halves of him knew that they’d agreed to time, to giving her the opportunity to realize she could trust them with her safety and that they wouldn’t turn on her at the drop of a hat.
He needed to remember that he couldn’t be led around by his cock. His very hard, very demanding cock. He sighed and forced himself to move farther from the bathroom. There was nothing to be gained by lurking outside the door, inhaling her sweet scents and imagining her naked. Mmm…naked.
Damn it. He stalked down the hall. He’d go to the kitchen and snare a beer or ten. Eight in the morning was early, but it had to be five o’clock somewhere. If he chugged ’em fast enough, he might even get a little buzzed. Yeah, that was a plan, he—
“Harding?”
He froze, foot hovering over the ground. Her voice was a caress, his name on her lips a physical touch. His lion roared, knowing that their mate was behind them clad in nothing but a towel since she hadn’t taken any clothes in with her. Towel-clad Tess. He imagined the droplets of water clinging to her skin, the way the wet strands of her hair would frame her face.
Harding placed his foot on the ground and dropped his head forward with a groan. The mental image was burned into his brain, never to be erased.
“Harding?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the temptation to turn and take a peek. Because if he saw her, he’d pounce, promises be damned. “Yeah?”
Was that his voice? Deep and rough until even he almost didn’t recognize the word.
“Um…”
It sounded like a moan, and his imagination went wild once again. The wet, the heat, those curves so close…
He took a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to gain a little control over his body. His cock throbbed and begged him to turn around, press Tess against the wall and slide deep into her wetness.
The past two days had been hell. He’d had his mate close, but couldn’t touch. Every sigh, whimper, and moan had reached him and yet there was nothing he could do. He didn’t want to push his luck. He had her in his home, mere feet from his bed, and he was determined not to scare her off.
Harding wanted her to get to know him—him—and accept him for who he was. He wanted to be worthy and desired and wanted. Like he never had been in the past. He was slowly easing toward the base of Tess’s fears, but he still had his own demons lurking. Even if she’d been exposed to his past, it didn’t mean he’d fully processed all of it on his own. Nightmares still plagued him all too often.
“Harding?”
Damn, he’d been lost in his thoughts too long. He coughed, begging the cat to retreat so he sounded more human than beast. “Yeah?”
He looked over his shoulder and damn his imagination hadn’t done her justice. There were the droplets clinging to the upper curve of her breasts and the mussed hair falling past her shoulders, but he hadn’t counted on the flush in her skin, the blush of red that teased him. She’d look like that when he got done with her, skin pinked with arousal and need as he trailed kisses over her body.
Harding’s cock twitched, telling him it agreed with that idea. Ever since he’d met Tess, arousal hadn’t been far away. His body had always been ready, willing, and able to respond to her nearness. Learning about her, getting to know her, made him want her all the more.
Did she want him just as much? He’d scented her desire here and there, but doubts lingered in his mind. Especially after what she’d seen.
Tess stared at him with wide eyes that grew wider by the second, suddenly reminding him that: 1) he was staring rather intently and 2) he was pretty sure he’d missed the answer to his question.
He cleared his throat. Again. “What?”
Fortunately, the ringing of th
e doorbell saved him from looking like an idiot any further. He bolted and the second he exited the hallway and rounded the corner, the voices of his impending guests reached him.
“This is a bad idea.” Alex’s long-suffering sigh followed his words.
“It’s the best idea ever. In the universe even. God himself couldn’t think of a better idea. That whole Adam and Eve thing? That ain’t got nothing on this.” Harding felt Maya’s giddy enthusiasm.
Giddy.
He was reminded of the last time he’d been smacked with Maya feeling giddy, and groaned. Oh, it’d turned out for the best—he’d found his mate, after all—but there’d been a few not-so-great times mixed in there.
Another knock came, immediately followed by his doorbell being pushed rhythmically. Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong…
“Maya.” Alex may be growling, but when it came to his mate, he was all snarl and no bite. Except for those times when he mounted his mate from behind and… Harding shuddered. He’d walked in on the couple one too many times. Hell, even worse, he’d heard them too many times. Listening to “give it to me, Daddy” while guarding Maya was not his idea of a good time.
Two young voices overrode whatever else Alex may have said.
“I wanna ding!”
“Ding ding ding ding!”
God save him, they’d brought their twin sons, Easton and Weston. While they were a bit over a year and a half old and short as hell, they still managed to get into everything.
Taking a deep, soothing breath, he flicked the locks and opened the door to reveal what he’d expected. The Prime and Prima, complete with their twin cubs, stood on his front porch. Without waiting for an invite, Maya nudged him aside and sailed into his home, the rest of the family trailing in her wake. Well, a part of it at least. Alex passed by with an apologetic smile while the ankle biters wrapped around Harding’s legs.
“Unca’ Harding!” Their voices came in chorus, two identical, beaming faces turned toward him, happiness in every bit of their expressions.