by Renee Rose
“Layne?”
The tiger turns bright eyes to me. Shit. I hope she’s not too mad at me.
“Here kitty, kitty,” I murmur. She bares her fangs.
“Is he dead?” I nod to Smyth. The edges of my vision are going grey.
The tiger yanks her claws out of Smyth with a sickening sound. His body is limp, his face blank with unconsciousness.
“You did good,” I tell her quietly. “But we should make sure.”
Layne growls assent. She swipes a paw and slides Smyth’s gun to me.
Fuck. I love this woman.
“I need your help.”
The tiger slinks towards me with all the beauty and grace of a predator. She could kill me with a swipe of her paw before I blinked.
My wolf is in awe. Idiot.
She sniffs me before crouching low enough for me to get my arm around her. I grasp the gun and together we make our way to Smyth. Propping myself on her shoulder, I take aim.
He’s my father. I should feel more than this burning hate. But I don’t.
A bullet to the heart takes care of justice. I collapse against Layne when it’s done.
The building shakes again. Another bomb. Nash brought more firepower than I thought.
“We need to get out of here.”
The tiger brushes her face against mine, then nuzzles my chest.
“Bandage—” I tug at my shirt and she gets it. One razor sharp claw slits my shirt open. I start to wrap it around me to put pressure on the wound. Not much, but it’s all I can do until I can get the silver out.
I wrap my arms around her body, and let her drag me out of the lab.
The closer we get to the exit, the louder the gunfire blasts. Every so often there’s a large rumble that shakes the building.
“Sam? You there?” Kylie sounds frantic.
“I’m here.”
“Thank God.”
“I’ve got Layne.” Or rather, she’s got me. “We’re all good.” My arms feel weak, but I dig my hands further into her fur, now slick with my blood. “We’re leaving. Nash is setting off bombs.”
“Grenades, actually. I have a visual of the outside. I sent a drone. Jackson is headed your way with an extraction team.”
“No, don’t let him—”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be long gone. If anything, they’ll be doing clean up and media suppression. We’re going to wipe the Earth of any of these shifter mercenaries.” The bloodthirsty note in her voice reminds me why I never want to get on Kylie’s bad side. Of course, now my girlfriend—if she’s still my girlfriend—is a tiger shifter. Several hundred pounds of lethal muscle, tipped with fang and claw.
It might take a lot of hot air balloon rides to get her to forgive me.
“First we get you and Layne out of there.” Kylie issues a stream of instructions that I relay to Layne. We turn down a hall, only to watch the ceiling cave in, wires crackling.
“Can’t go that way,” I shout to Kylie as Layne backtracks, dragging me. We pass a dead guard and I grab up his handgun, tossing Smyth’s shifter stopper away. “The building’s unstable.”
“All right. Nash is raining fire power down from the roof. If you can get a hold of him, he can provide cover.”
“The roof?” That is so far from Nash’s and my plan that it’s in outer space.
“Yeah,” Kylie sounds like she’s grinning. “They sent in a helicopter to shoot him down, and he leaped from the building long enough to hijack it and send it crashing down.
“Fuck.”
“It was so badass!” Kylie gushes. “Okay, let’s focus. I see there’s a stairwell coming up on your left. Head down, if you can. It should be structurally stable. Shifter enforced concrete and all that.”
“I might lose you,” I tell her.
“That’s okay, all you’re going to do is go down and out the exit. If you can—I mean, if there aren’t too many guards pinning you down. If there are, see if you can get through to Nash for cover.”
“I also have a weapon.”
“Great. That should tide you over. The building might be close to collapsing. I wish Jackson had bought me that missile for my birthday. I’d totally blow the place and you could run under the cover of the explosion.”
“You mean our flaming bodies could get flung out by the blast,” I say dryly.
“To-may-to, to-mah-to. Jackson didn’t buy me the missile. He took me to Hawaii and got me a diamond bracelet instead.”
“Stairwell to the exit,” I tell Layne. “Kylie, we’re in.”
“Try Nash,” she orders. “I reached out but he doesn’t know me.”
“Roger.”
“See you on the other side.”
The channel switches to Nash. “Alpha, you there? Layne and I are headed out. We need firepower to cover us on the western side. Then we’ll get you out.”
I wait, but get no reply. Fuck.
“We’re on our own.” I tell tiger Layne. She’s absolutely beautiful, and calm, her striped face regal. “If I don’t make it out alive, I want to tell you thank you for saving my life. I love you.” Fuck, my vision really is going grey.
She pushes her big head against me, and I hug her. The silver is sucking my strength but I manage to hang on long enough to get down the stairs to the exit. I nudge open the door and look out long enough for a blast of bullets to send me back into the darkness.
“We’re pinned down.” I try Nash again, with no response.
My earpiece crackles.
“Sam, can you hear me?”
“Yeah.”
“Hacked your—” static takes over her voice. “They’re on their way.”
“What?”
“Hang tight, Sam. You’re getting backup.”
~.~
Layne
Sam goes limp and I snarl, pushing against him. The world is narrower and wider at the same time, full of scents and unfamiliar instincts. My claws flex against the concrete. I want to destroy the world.
The building rocks. Fuck. I need to get us clear. We can survive bullets but not a building collapsing on us.
I think.
Catching Sam’s belt in my teeth, I drag his unconscious body to the door.
“Layne?” he mumbles just as the building shudders again. He seems to come awake, hoisting the gun. “All right. Let’s get out of here. Kylie, tell me when.” He wraps his belt around my neck, hooking his arm into it. “Ready?”
I nod. “Three—two—one.”
I slam into the door and race into the sunlight.
Rubble rains down on us, along with gunfire. Sam returns some fire as I drag him along, fighting to reach the woods. Bullets spatter the dirt in front of us and I stop short.
“Layne, go,” Sam urges. “Nash is covering us.”
We’re a few hundred feet out from the woods when an engine revs. Sam’s van darts between us and the trees.
The side door slides open and Declan sticks his head out.
“Come on, wolfie! Quit necking with Tony the Tiger and get on with ya!”
“It’s Layne,” Sam shouts.
“Is it? Jay-sus.” The Irishman hoists a machine gun on his shoulder and hops out of the van. He sends off a burst of bullets in the direction of enemy gunfire as he walks towards us. “That’s one fecking big kitty.”
When he reaches us, he grabs Sam’s other arm, supporting him the rest of the way.
We’re almost to the van, when something white swoops overhead. I turn, snarling, and swipe blindly at snowy wings.
“Layne, stop,” Sam rasps. “It’s Laurie. He’s an owl.”
An owl. Of course. I wonder why I never asked what kind of shifter he was. I guess I assumed he and Declan were wolves, like Sam.
I leave the owl to flap away, and leap into the van, covering Sam’s body with my own.
“All in?” Parker asks from the driver seat.
Declan slides the door shut and hops into the passenger seat, settling his gun out the window. “Go.”
Parker hits the gas and the van hauls back in reverse. As we back up, the building crumbles. A body in black fatigues leaps from the roof just in time for the giant owl to grab his arms and soar with him to the safety of the trees.
~.~
Sam
My body throbs with dull pain and an out-of-reach itchy feeling that tells me my shifter healing is working. Someone moves the pillow I’m lying on, and I can’t stop my groan.
“Sam? Sam? You awake?”
“Try this.” A smooth glass touches my lips just before liquid sloshes into my mouth and burns down my throat. I come awake, sputtering.
“What the fuck?” someone shouts. Layne. “You can’t give him whiskey!”
“He’s a wolf!”
“He’s recovering. That’s it—everyone out.”
“Kitty’s angry—”
“Now.” Layne’s voice is tinged with a snarl. My nose twitches with the thick smell of fur.
“Layne?” I open my eyes. She slams the door and whirls, dark hair flying around her pale cheeks.
“Sam? Are you all right?” She hurries back to my side and puts a water bottle to my lips. “Drink this. Should wash away anything that Irish idiot gave you.”
I sip slowly, holding her eyes. Her brow is creased, cheeks flushed, but she’s unmarked. Of course, she won’t scar now. She’s a shifter.
“Just try to relax.” She gives me a rueful smile. “You’ve been out since our escape. It’s after dusk. Parker says you might’ve gotten silver poisoning because the bullet was in so long. My fault. It took the guys a while to convince my tiger to let me shift back.”
“Where are we?”
“Nash’s place. He’s back too, although he took off for a long walk. I may have yelled at him for going rogue and leaving you.”
“Cats are territorial.” I smile weakly.
“Yeah, well,” Layne makes a show of fussing with my blankets, “He better watch it. I’m just as big and bad as him.”
I catch her hand. “You’re magnificent.”
She blushes. “You should sleep.”
“Is that an order?”
“Yes.” she starts to head away.
“Layne.”
She turns, catching the serious note in my voice. Wariness flickers over her expression.
“I’m so fucking sorry. I really am. I was a goddamn idiot. You were right—I chose darkness over you. Hate over love. And I know Smyth is already dead, but I need you to know—I have my head out of my ass now.
“You’re the only thing that matters to me. You make me feel sane. Worthy. And I’ll do anything in the world to prove that to you.”
She returns to my side, perching her curvy ass beside me on the bed. “You did choose me. I saw you at that lab. You only cared about rescuing me. Getting rid of Smyth was an afterthought.”
I wrap an arm around her waist, pull her closer. I don’t ever want to let her go again.
~.~
Layne
I wake nestled into Sam’s hard body. He kept me tucked against his side all night, one arm looped around me even as he slept.
The changes in my body since Smyth turned me have me up early. I’m full of energy and heat. I haven’t taken my medicine in twenty-four hours, but I feel no need for it. The tremors are gone.
They’re gone, but there’s a new need thrumming through my body. And it has everything to do with the male beside me. His scent fills my nostrils like an elixir, velvety and masculine. Although his breath is slow and deep with slumber, his cock juts up against his boxer briefs, like a beacon drawing me in.
I wonder how he’d feel about being woken by a tiger—tigress—whatever I am now?
I sit up and straddle him, surprised at how limber and agile my body is.
He’s awake in about three-quarters of a second, his hands snapping to my hips, cock thrusting up, right where I want him.
“Good morning,” I purr, rolling my hips down to take the edge off the ache of need between my legs.
Sam apparently doesn’t need any time to adjust to my plan, the dirty talk flies right off his tongue. “That’s it, sweetheart. Grind that pussy over my cock. Get them acquainted before I flip you on your back and pound into you until tomorrow.”
I suck in my breath, rubbing harder. My hands come up to cup my breasts.
“Take your shirt off,” Sam rasps. “Get it off, now.” The yellow glint in his eyes excites my tiger. I whip my shirt off and throw it on the floor. I’m wearing nothing but one of the pairs of simple cotton panties he bought me at the discount store, but he stares at them as if they are the sexiest piece of lingerie ever made.
I adore the bald hunger playing on his face. Because it’s not just my tiger making me feel powerful. It’s Sam. Sam’s need for me. The way he loses control when he touches me.
His thumb comes up to lightly brush the fabric over my clit and a shiver runs through me. “Ten seconds.” He lifts his gaze from my panties to my face. There’s a challenge there, but I don’t understand it. “Ten... nine…”
I grasp his meaning and fall forward, catching my hands on his iron biceps and snapping my hips to create friction between our bodies.
Sam’s eyes roll back and he groans. “...seven... six... five…”
My breath becomes labored. I seriously could go off like this—without anything more than a little rubbing.
Sam yanks my hips forward and back, holding me down, helping me. “Four... three... two…”
He flips our bodies over and pins my wrists above my head. His eyes glow fully amber. I wonder what color mine are—my vision definitely seems different.
“One.” With his free hand, he tears the fabric of my panties.
I release his cock from his boxer briefs.
A snarl comes from his lips, but he shakes his head, as if gathering himself. “Condom,” he croaks. “Don’t move.”
He scrambles to get it at the same time he kicks off his boxers. His shaft stands erect and long, waving at me. No, for me.
I bring my fingers between my legs as I watch him roll the condom on.
He growls a low, disapproving sound and picks up my hand, bringing my fingers to his lips. “Mine.” He licks my essence off, then sucks my digits into his mouth. “This pussy is mine to pleasure, sweetheart. You take my job away from me, there will be consequences.”
A wide smile stretches my mouth. “Oh yeah?”
He brings the head of his cock to my wetness and rubs. “Yeah.”
“Wh-what kind of consequences.” I’m losing my breath.
He spears me. Shoves deep then eases back. Shoves deep again.
“You know.” He raises his eyebrows, affecting a mock stern look that curls my toes. “Punishment.”
My core tightens around him and I arch up, head falling back.
A rumbling sound comes from his chest. “You love your punishments, don’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” Suddenly I want it so much harder. Rougher. “Harder, Sam.”
Sam pulls out and flips me over, yanking my hips up so I stand on my knees. “You need me to fuck you hard, sweet tiger?” He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back at the same time he enters me.
I hear a roar, and I’m stunned to realize it came from my mouth. My fingernails lengthen to claws and I tear into the mattress, arching my ass back to meet his thrusts.
He holds me captive by my hair as he pummels my ass with his loins, giving me every incredible inch of him. His cock hits my inner wall and the spasms start—a spiraling of quakes and tremors that shake my thighs and belly.
“Sam,” I cry, almost alarmed at the intensity building.
“Take it,” he growls.
“Yes. Please.”
“You’re begging me? We’re both on our knees, baby. Praying for salvation that’s going to come... right... now.” His last words are almost unintelligible, they’re so entwined with growls.
He shoves so hard, he flattens me to my belly, buries so d
eep I think I’ll split. His roar fills the room, mixing with my keening cries.
My inner walls seize up and release, pulsing, squeezing as the orgasm ripples out of me in wave after wave of ecstasy.
“Sweet tiger.”
I don’t know how much time passes—I’m floating somewhere between ecstasy and angels.
Sam is easing out of me, crooning softly in my ear, stroking my hair back from my face. He starts to pull me gently into his arms when I pounce, tackling him back to the bed.
I strike before I even know what I’m doing, my teeth sinking into the flesh of his shoulder.
Sam draws in a sharp breath and then he laughs.
I taste his blood and disengage, horrified. “Oh my God. What did I just do?” I cover my mouth with my hand.
He pulls it away, wipes the blood from the corner of my mouth. “I think you just marked me.” He chuckles again. “I’ll bet you’re an alpha tiger.” Pride shines from his eyes. “Marking your male to keep the other females off.”
A hysterical giggle releases from my lips. “Really?” Now that he says it, I recognize the proprietary sense I have about him. The Layne who would stand down and take anyone’s shit is gone. I’d fight off any threat to Sam—male or female.
I lean forward and lick the wound, the way Sam had cleaned mine.
“Now I’m yours. Same as you are mine.” His eyes are back to blue. The blue of the sea. Of the sky on our balloon ride.
“What now?” I ask, slightly breathless with the possibility. For the first time in my life, I don’t have the constant simmering need to go and do more. Apply myself harder. Achieve.
I’m okay to just be.
Just be with Sam.
With myself.
15
Layne
“So that’s it then? You’re leaving?” Parker asks. We’re crowded into Nash’s living room, all but the lion, who’s making himself scarce.
Sam has his arm around me. “I think it’s better if Layne and I lie low for a while.”
“Can’t get lower than here,” Declan grins, holding up the unmarked bottle of hooch.