Savage Claim: Lion Hearts Book Two

by Lane, Cecilia

  “Maybe they’ll need extra help.” She had the experience, though it’d turned more informal over the last few years. Before the Levine pride locked their females down, though, she worked in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Nothing nearly as big or as busy as Hogshead, but she bet she could pick it up quick.

  Besides, it felt nice to have plans for the future. She’d been on the run, protected against danger, and contained on the Crowley ranch. She wanted to think she’d have a normal life at some point.

  Kyla tapped her foot in time to the music once they were seated and plied with drinks and appetizers.

  “So, Sloan,” Lindley started lightly, taking another swallow of his drink. “What are your people seeing out there?”

  Sloan—agent with the Supernatural Enforcement Agency, Kyla had learned—fended him off with raised hands. “Technically, I should be encouraging you to get your asses to the office and file reports, but I know how we’re viewed.”

  Kyla glanced at Lindley, then back to Sloan. Up and down the table, conversations quieted and heads leaned in.

  They’d been briefed, it seemed. No one made a face or seemed disinterested. If anything, determination burst into the air all around.

  Kyla felt her chest warm again. Lions, bears, wolves, the entire mix of shifter and human at the wide table were there to help.

  Lorne shifted at Sloan’s side. “It’s not like your own agents have tried to kill you. Maybe the low opinion is justified,” he said, frowning.

  Kyla’s eyes widened. Holy heck. That was a story she wanted to hear and avoid at all costs.

  Sloan rolled her head on her shoulders to give him a look that was part exasperation, part amusement, and all love. “I also know,” she said, turning back to Lindley, “how you crews stick together and handle things your own way, boneheaded as it is. So I’ll tell you what you can read in the papers. It’s been quiet since the last haul of hunters we brought in. Not that any lions here know about that.”

  All down the table, Crowley faces turned innocent. Then Trent locked eyes with Lindley and nodded.

  Lindley leaned forward. “We’ve been keeping an eye on a pickup point our contact gave us, but there hasn’t been anything to pick up on. No scents, no sightings. If they ever had a camp there, it’s gone.

  “Friends of ours down south have checked into the prides with possible involvement. One is still in place, but smaller numbers than before. Two others are gone. They were small to begin with, mostly males without any roots, but I don’t like them suddenly moving territory while all this is going down.”

  “I don’t either,” Sloan frowned. “It’s normal to have fluctuations in activity. The beat down they got in November would absolutely send the rats scurrying to ground. But this level of silence, across the country, feels off.” She shrugged a shoulder. “As a federal agent, I’m telling you to report anything you find and let us handle things. As a neighbor, be careful out there, okay?”

  “Heard loud and clear,” Trent agreed with a tap of his fingers to the brim of an imaginary hat.

  Food arrived shortly after, and with it, more loud conversation. Kyla tracked as much as possible, then only heard half, then just the few people around her as the band and patrons grew louder and louder.

  Through it all, Lindley stuck with her. Not just by her side, but with her in conversation. He didn’t leave her to languish when a joke passed her by or some memory was called out over the band. He pulled her into everything and made her feel included. By the time the plates were taken away, her cheeks hurt from laughing.

  Lindley slid his hand under the table and squeezed her knee at the same time he leaned in close. “How are you doing?” he asked, breath whispering against her ear.

  Her heart kicked up a notch. “Good. Very good.”

  “Wait here.” He pressed a kiss to her neck and pushed out of his seat.

  Kyla twisted around to watch him weave through the maze of tables, patrons, and servers to where the band stood taking their break between songs. After a moment of back-and-forth, Lindley clapped the singer on the shoulder and made his way through the crowd.

  As soon as he made it back to his spot, the band started up again. Kyla glanced down to her lap when she recognized the song. Ages had gone by since she last heard it, and even longer since Lindley asked her to dance to it.

  She turned at a tap on her shoulder.

  “May I?” he rumbled with a smile.

  Cheeks heating, Kyla placed her hand in his and followed him to the dance floor. Lindley pulled her close to his chest the moment they found space. He rested a hand on her hip and twined the fingers of his other with hers.

  “I don’t want this to end,” she admitted. “All of it. I haven’t had this much fun in years.”

  “It doesn’t need to. You can always stay here.” He was quiet for a long moment. Then his breath whispered against her ear. “I lied the other day.”

  She pulled back enough to meet his eyes. Copper swirled in the brown, mingling to a light rum color. “What?”

  “When I told you those weren’t good memories for me.” He spun her out and back into his arms to sway in another slow circle. “They are some of the best I have. Tonight is up there, too.”

  Kyla drank him in. Her inner cat practically vibrated with her loud purr. He was everything both woman and lioness wanted in a man. Strong and willing to fight for those who needed help. Unafraid to show a caring side to those he let in.

  “You thought Sage was the focus, but you were wrong. I kept an eye on her, sure. That was my job as her big brother. But you…?”

  He spun her around and into a dip. Strong arms kept her from spilling all the way to the ground, but couldn’t stop the drop of her stomach to her toes. “Me what?” she asked on a breath.

  “You had my entire attention.”

  Truth.

  Chapter 19

  Lindley adjusted the visor in his hands. As long as he kept his eyes lifted above the trees and ignored the chill on his skin, he could pretend he wasn’t surrounded by snow. And really, the chill wasn’t too bad with the sun shining down on him.

  The cattle milled in the pasture behind the barn. Horses nickered in their paddock on the other side of the fence. Contented quiet hugged his small corner of the world, along with a vague sense of unease he refused to acknowledge.

  Still no sign of the missing prides or activity near Heatherglen. Sage hadn’t popped up on anyone’s radar. No Jasper or his minions, either.

  But he had Kyla in his bed at night. Her scent filled his repaired den. Walking through the door at the end of the day burned away most of the sticky darkness that clung to his insides. They could work on the rest. As long as they kept moving, there was still hope.

  His truck rocked with the weight of someone leaning against the sides. Lindley didn’t even crack his lids.

  “So we’re back to doing this?” Trent asked.

  He ran a hand down his chest. “I have someone in my life now. That means there are standards to uphold.”

  “Uphold them in private,” Rhys said with a roll of his eyes.

  Lindley flicked him off and settled deeper into the broken lawn chair. He tensed as another strap strained against his weight and threatened to join the others already snapped and dangling from the bent frame. Thankfully, it held.

  Maybe he’d invest in one of those fancy wood chairs when his throne finally broke. A matching set, one for him and one for Kyla.

  His inner lion purred at the thought of ending the day with the strange little woman. Lindley didn’t hate the idea of them doing quiet, lame shit like watching the sun set or taking long walks while holding hands. Normal things done by normal couples sounded pretty nice after the exhaustive years of fighting every damn day.

  “I, for one, am glad we’re having an open conversation about this,” Dash stated in a benevolent tone. “We’ve all seen Rhys. And buddy, if manscaping is giving you that many scars, you’re doing it wrong.”

  Rhys sl
ugged him in the gut with a growl.

  Dash doubled over. He wheezed a laugh, “You can find instructional videos to help.”

  “Are there any on how not to be a dickface?” Rhys rumbled.

  “No, but I’m plenty sure there are some on how to eat a dick,” Dash hit back, dancing out of arm’s length.

  “Lot of experience with that, eh, Dash?” Lindley laughed. Holy hell, the noise felt good in his chest. He’d grown so used to the vibrating rumble of a growl pouring out of him that he rubbed a hand over his diaphragm.

  “Just in offering myself up for hands-on practice,” the other man answered, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Fuck me, don’t go making that joke around Ethan.” Trent scrubbed a hand down his face. He straightened and narrowed his eyes. “Who the fuck is that?”

  The others immediately quieted and turned to follow Trent’s look. Lindley slid his sunglasses down his nose. Someone slowly made their way up the ranch road, hands raised in the air.

  Lindley yanked his shirt back over his head and jumped to the ground, ready for whatever fight had landed at their feet.

  He didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly they were striding forward. Growls rose up around him. Anger mingled in their scents as they pulled to a stop a short distance from the intruder.

  Lindley snarled. His lion surged inside him, dying to rip out of his skin and maul the fucker standing in front of them. The asshole wasn’t just a Levine lion. He’d been the one to slip into his den and try to make off with his mate.

  “Get him to the cave,” Trent ordered.

  They crowded him forward. Pushing, shoving, making sure he didn’t stop for a single second. Every last one of them kept a watch on the bastard as well as the hills around them. One lion meant others. Someone had to drive him to the end of their territory. That someone could still be watching and preparing to pounce.

  The march ended at the open maw of the cave Trent dug out for his unruly lions. It was a place of sanctuary when they spun out of control and inched toward the final descent into madness. Locked away, they could take a breath. Maybe settle their inner beasts and continue limping into their future.

  Not everyone left the cell alive.

  The door swung closed with the intruder on the other side. He lounged against the wall, smirk hitching up one side of his mouth. He rolled his eyes around the darkened cave, taking in the bare cot shoved to one side and lack of any other amenities.

  “Now, this is a real nice place. Much better than that dump I visited last time I swung by,” the lion snarked.

  “Who the fuck are you and why are you in my territory?” Trent demanded.

  The lion pressed his hand to his chest. “I’m Tucker. I’m surprised our female didn’t tell you my name.”

  Lindley’s lion roared to life. Not his female. Not a Levine female.

  Mine.

  Lindley stepped closer. His growl built in his chest as his inner beast raged to unleash on the asshole. No one got to claim Kyla. “Why are you here?”

  “Daddy wants to make a deal,” Tucker said with a grin.

  “No fucking deal,” he spat. “He leaves Kyla alone and he sets Sage free. Those are the terms.”

  “The sister isn’t on the table. She’s gone. Mated.” He switched up his demeanor from lounging psychopath to offended pearl-clutcher. “Stealing someone’s property is a crime.”

  The growl Lindley had kept locked inside spilled out of his mouth. “Keep it up, motherfucker. Won’t be able to talk crimes when I send your tongue back to Roland.”

  “Shit,” Trent muttered. He stepped in front of him, eyes flashing gold. “Someone get Kyla here. Now!”

  “Yes, let’s get her here. Say the word, and I can march her back to where she belongs. She’s no pride princess, but she’s kind of hot. She’ll get a good price.” Tucker smirked and flicked his eyes to Lindley. “Even if she’s a little used up.”

  Lindley shoved forward. Rhys and Trent both dug in and pushed back. Their boots scraped on the cold floor, sliding inch by inch as he strained against them.

  “Settle, Lin,” Trent grunted. “Fucking settle.”

  The wash of alpha power just pissed him off more.

  His lion rolled through him. Sendings burned with the fire he wanted to rain down on the men holding him back from his prey. Tucker needed to die. Horribly. Then his entire pride needed to meet their end.

  He didn’t even know which part of the fucker’s taunts infuriated him more. His insult to her attractiveness? That she wasn’t worth much?

  The whole fucking concept of buying another person turned his stomach. The lionesses had no choice in the matter. They were stripped of their ability to say no or pick their own partner. Those weren’t mates. They were hostages to guarantee their pride’s cooperation in whatever madness Jasper and his consortium had planned.

  Tucker wrapped his hands around the bars. His lips twitched with the sting of pain from the silver, but he didn’t pull away. “Don’t you want to know what you get in return?”

  “Nothing would make me consider giving her up.”

  “Not even Mommy?”

  “The fuck did you say?” Lindley shouted around the men holding him back. He locked eyes with the fucker behind bars. “What did you just say?”

  “Roland will hand over your mother if you back off the females.”

  “Liar. You’re a damn liar!”

  Fuck.

  He saw her go down. He smelled the blood. Didn't see her chest rise or fall. Heard the silence undisturbed by the beat of her heart.

  Right?

  He shook his head. Fuck Roland. Fuck his insidious childhood. The asshole clouded everything in three layers of what-ifs and turned everyone’s head inside out.

  It couldn’t be true.

  Right?

  Fuck. He could see how he was being played. Roland wasn’t there to sour the air with lies. Sending someone to pass along the message removed him from the equation, allowing misinformation to slowly poison everyone it touched.

  His stomach sank. He knew what he saw that night. He knew, and he still questioned.

  Because what if he was wrong? Could he live with himself if he let his mother languish longer as his father’s captive?

  Your ruin is coming, son of mine.

  Just another Levine male.

  He was a damn failure. He hadn’t been able to save anyone. His mother, Sage, Kyla, they were all marks of his weakness. And his father, fuckface that he was, knew exactly which buttons to push to bring him to his knees.

  His nails darkened with the sharpening of his claws. Fangs pressed against his gums.

  He didn’t stand a chance of being a good mate to Kyla. He couldn’t be a good brother to Sage. Not when darkness pushed at him from his very center.

  His chest heaved with the breaths that punched in and out of his lungs. His vision closed in, narrowing down to pinpricks of light. “I’m not bargaining for lives like goods at a street stall,” he snarled, voice closer to a savage rumble than words.

  “That’s all they are,” Tucker quipped.

  His lion ripped out of him in a second. He roared and charged at the cage. His heavy weight barreled into the bars. His prey scrambled backward, fear shining in his eyes for the first time since he walked into Crowley territory.

  He wanted more of that look. His lips peeled back as he inhaled the sharp, stinging stench of the man’s fear. Only thing better would be blood on his claws and fangs.

  “Lindley! Back off!” Trent shouted.

  The words cracked over him like a whip. He whirled on the man giving orders and let off a vicious roar. He’d had enough of being pushed around.

  Lindley bolted for the entrance of the cave.

  Away. He needed to get away. He wouldn’t find answers from the shaking sack of flesh behind bars. Only one male could give him what he needed.

  He turned south and toward a home he swore he’d never visit again.

  Roland owed him truths.
He’d rip apart the whole damn Levine pride until he got them.

  Chapter 20

  “He did what?” Kyla demanded.

  Trent didn’t stop. He twisted around her and slid a long case into the back of his truck. “He shifted and ran.”

  “Ran? Ran where?”

  “That’s why we need you. Is there anywhere he would go? Somewhere he’d lie low for a while?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Would someone please tell me what is going on?”

  The details had been nonexistent from the very moment Dash pounded on the door of Lindley’s den, telling her to hurry and come with him. The shattered remains of the glass she’d been startled into dropping still threatened the feet of anyone who walked through the kitchen.

  As soon as she reached the door, the others roared into the yard. Trent shouted for Dash to pack his shit, then disappeared into his den. She’d raced after him, but ‘Lindley ran’ wasn’t much of an explanation.

  The three men stopped what they were doing and exchanged looks. Finally, Trent scrubbed a hand down his face and pulled her off to the side. Dash and Rhys resumed their packing, throwing them cautious glances every other second.

  “We captured someone. He walked right up on the ranch and said he had a message for us. Roland wants to make a deal. You, in exchange for Lindley’s mother.”

  Kyla’s widened her eyes in shock. “His mother is alive?”

  “He didn’t seem to think so, but…” Trent trailed off with a weak shrug.

  “But he couldn’t let it go without checking it out,” Kyla finished for him.

  She could only imagine the struggle he’d been shoved into. He carried so much guilt and hurt over what happened and what he perceived as failing to stop. But under all that, he was just a boy who’d lost his mother. Of course he’d grasp at any chance, no matter how unlikely, to reset that tragedy.

  “You know where he’s heading,” she said quietly.

  Trent fixed her with an inscrutable look. “I do. And I think you know, too.”

  Right back home and into the trap his father no doubt had set.