by Dana Archer
“No.” I blink exaggeratedly innocent eyes. “Why do you ask?”
Vince grips my wrists, preventing me from going for my gun, and leans into me, his fanged mouth filling my vision. “Because we might get another chance the next time you walk this earth. We won’t if she wins, Zo. She’ll eat you up if you let her, and I don’t want to go through eternity wondering if I failed the one woman meant to be mine, or just the girl I’ll love forever. Pay your debt to her. Do you hear me? Pay your debt…no matter how much it hurts, and I’ll pay mine. It’s time we put the past behind us.”
“Let me go.” I force every ounce of power into my command.
Vince releases me on a jerk, then stands there, staring at me. The glow to Vince’s blue eyes brightens the night. His shirt blocks his piercing gaze for a moment before he tosses the fabric to the ground. The sound of a zipper coming undone cuts through the silence. A thump of a boot comes next, then the other one hits something somewhere off to his right. All the while, he studies me, holding my gaze while he undresses.
“What do you want from me, Zoe? I paid my debt to society. I punished myself for not protecting you. I have nothing else to give. I can’t bring back your family. Best I can do is give you a new one next time around.”
“You can die.”
“That’s not an option. Not anymore. I have eternity awaiting me. And you?” Vince breaks our locked gazes to peruse my body. “Your days are numbered.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Just the truth. You’re human. Every day, your body is aging…weakening…growing less desirable.” Vince licks his lips. “And weakness is incredibly enticing to a predator, whether it be one you encounter or one you’ve taken inside you.”
“Oh yes, that’s definitely a threat.” And I still can’t muster the energy to be afraid or to interrupt Vince’s cryptic response. My therapist warned me about that too. A sign of depression. And no matter the extent of his manipulation, I believe the things my shrink told me, even as he told me to forget what happened. Maybe that’s foolish. Maybe it’s instinct. I don’t know. But the warnings he gave resounded as truth then—still do—so I’ve taken them as such. It’s everything he told me to forget I question.
“No. As I said, it’s the truth.” The fangs in Vince’s mouth lengthen and distort his voice. “You’re prey, and if you don’t embrace what you are, you’ll be eaten alive.”
With that, Vince’s image fades. A dark-maned lion replaces it, then fills out as life gives the see-through image a solid body. The massive lion turns his back on me, his thick muscles contracting under his tawny fur, then pushes forward, leaping over the edge of the overlook.
On a gasp, I rush forward. The lake stretches out below. No sign of Vince’s lion. No sign of Vince’s human form. No sounds of distress. Nothing.
I sit back on my haunches and wait for some kind of emotion to form. Only numbness remains. I don’t care if Vince lives or not. Neither fate will change mine.
“Is this what acceptance feels like?”
Nobody answers me. There’s no sense of divine revelation. No hint BJ is trying to reach out to me. No brush of an angel’s wings. Nothing, not even so much as a giggle from my crazy side.
Shrugging, I push to my feet and make my way back to my car. If one of Vince’s felines comes after me, I’ll shoot it. A bullet might not kill him, but it’ll slow his big cat down long enough for me to get away. Except, running doesn’t fix anything. Running won’t save Josh’s babies. It won’t save me either. The moment I return home, I’ll step back into hell. Staying, however, means facing everything, including all the things I “forgot” thanks to Dr. Fairchild.
Staying also means I won’t be able to ignore Kade.
Or the way he makes me question everything, including what it means to love someone…forever.
Eight
Kade
The narrow winding road leading up to the overlook where Zoe lost her family is a local treasure. As such, few outsiders ever come up this way. Even fewer residents of this valley make their way up the steep, sometimes treacherous road in the winter months. The magnificent view isn’t worth risking an accident, especially since cell service is practically nonexistent up here.
Those are the facts I’ve learned since moving to this rural section of West Virginia. The two-hundred-thousand-dollar sportscar parked on the side of the road throws those truths out the window. I slow the top-of-the-line SUV I’d planned to give Zoe when I reclaimed the ’Cuda, then pull in behind the expensive vehicle and get out.
My cats push against my psyche with a warning, but the smell hovering in the area around the sportscar tells me everything I need to know. Another Royal feline male is close.
I circle the sportscar, noting the duffel bag and discarded prison garb in the backseat. My tiger’s fur pushes through my skin, sprouting over my knuckles and down my fingers to where thick, modified claws transform my fingertips. I flex my hands, but don’t pierce my skin. There’s no need to let my blood drip. I rarely mask my scent. Or stifle my power. My presence will linger here long enough that the shifter who haphazardly parked his car here will know exactly who discovered his belongings.
My tiger’s growl echoes within me a moment before tingles skip over my skin. I turn and face the woods where its steep slope drops almost directly from the overlook above us. Several minutes pass before a naked male tramples through the underbrush and heaves himself over the side of the guardrail. Tall, fit, but not quite as massive as any of the mature Alexanders. Vince is the embodiment of what the younger generation of shifters favors—lean strength. He’s more a quarterback than hulking powerhouse, and without the training given to older generations on how to fight, he’s nothing more than prey for those bigger and badder than him.
Vince looks me over, head to toe, no doubt thinking the same about me, or maybe wondering if I’d topple like Goliath did so he could take my head in one clean sweep.
“The infamous Kade Alexander.” Vince tips his head in what resembles something close to a nod but comes off more like a cocky jerk of his chin. “Funny meeting you up here. Or maybe not so funny. Either way, you’ve interrupted my first run in years.”
Rage bleeds through me, turning my vision red and spreading black-and-orange fur up my arms. I don’t make any attempt to stop the fury from calling my primal side. It’s either embrace the anger or act on it, and killing Vince isn’t an option right now. I want it to be. Goddess, how I want it to be. Vince deserves to die, if only because he caused Zoe pain. I don’t necessarily need to know how or why he hurt her, only that she suffered.
Vince’s blood on my hands would appease my primitiveness and my cats’ desire for revenge. Too bad an alpha can’t act on his wants. It’s always the pride first, then all those others who rely on him, and finally, any personal motivation he has. In this case, killing Vince would have a detrimental effect on my family and this community. I refuse to endanger anyone in the war that’d ensue for giving in to my desire for retribution.
On an exhale, I let the pent-up power, the fountain of strength only an alpha can tap into, escape with my respired air. Vince’s flinch and the small step back he takes doesn’t come close to satisfying me, but I’ll take the knowledge he understands his place: below me.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you how to greet an alpha? Let alone the alpha of the lands you’re trespassing on?”
Vince shrugs. “Actually, no. I was raised by humans and only allowed home when I was required to attend a ritual or some other event. My alpha claimed I reminded him of his late sister and…other things, and those reminders weren’t pleasant experiences. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.”
“Start with my name, title, then my pride’s name. After that, you state your reason for being on my pride’s lands and offer your vow not to harm me or mine. Otherwise, I’m entirely within my right to take your head.” I smirk as Vince’s shoulders straighten and his focus zeroes in on me—a threat he’d discounted. “Then
I’ll either grant you permission to remain and under what conditions or I order you to leave.”
For a long heartbeat, Vince doesn’t move or speak. Finally, he inclines his head. “Evening, Kade, alpha of the Alexander pride and owner of a woman who’d rather make her bed with the dead than worship the keeper she resents.”
A growl reverberates within my chest at the cryptic and smug greeting.
With his gaze still downcast, Vince smirks, then wipes the cocky look off his face. “As far as why I’m here…this is my home. My parents…my human parents…live close to here. I believe that gives me the right to come and go as I please, but I am aware of your perceived rights. You squatted on this land while I was paying for the misdeeds of my youth and couldn’t stop you from settling in my town.
Vince raises his eyes, not his head. “Or claiming ownership of my…” He grins. “My dear, dear friend, Zoe.”
The sound of ripping cloth halts my slip into my weretiger form. “Zoe would call you a liar if she heard you calling her a friend.”
“You’re right. She would. She blames me for things she doesn’t even remember, things her mind has twisted, things her therapist planted in her memories, but not the things I actually did.” Vince chuckles. “And those things are bad. I admit that. I screwed her over good, and I’ll make it up to her someday, if she doesn’t lose her soul first.”
I stride forward, each step building power within me. The air around me warms, forming a foggy mist to sweep out in front of me. “What are you talking about?”
Vince doesn’t back up as I approach, but the tensing of his muscles suggests it’s taking a lot for him to hold his ground. “You do know what she is, don’t you?”
“Mine.” The harshness of my voice turns the word into a grunt. “Zoe’s my beloved human. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
“She’s also my good friend, even if she’s angry with me. I’m protective of her. I have always been protective of her. Someone needed to have her back.” Vince thumps his chest. “My cats claimed her even before I fully understood what I was.”
“You hurt her.”
“I did.” Vince’s chest heaves. “I’m also the reason she’s still alive. I’m the reason Josh is still alive. And I’m the reason our world is preparing to welcome the prophesized ones. Remember that, alpha of the Alexander pride. Remember it was me who made this moment in history possible.”
“What I remember is Zoe’s claim that you left her bleeding and miscarrying her baby. Everything else you just alluded to amounts to nothing more than fiction…unless you’re willing to back your statements with facts.”
“You want a fact?” Vince points up the road. “I left Zoe perfectly safe sitting up there on the overlook tonight. If I’d wanted, she’d be dead. All I would’ve had to do was push, and she’d meet the same fate as her self-proclaimed soul mate.”
“Hurt her and—”
“I land in a shifter-run prison for a century. The examiner at my hearing was quite clear on that.”
In a move Vince has no hope of countering, I wrap one clawed hand around his neck and snatch his wrists with my other, preventing him from trying to claw at my chest or my neck. Blood runs down Vince’s throat and feeds into my animalistic drive to kill—to seek vengeance for my true mate.
I lean forward instead, forcing Vince to arch backward in a submissive pose. The flaring of his nostrils and the glint in his eyes speak of his loathing, but his relaxed muscles tell me he’s not stupid. He’s been topped. He knows it, and his instincts won’t allow him to fight me. “Never interrupt an alpha.”
“I was never taught that.”
“If your human mother never taught you respect, you need a real good beating, Vincent Catania Yuran.” I curl my fingers, ripping his windpipe so bubbles form in the blood pouring over my hand. Still Vince remains unmoving. As a mature shifter, he won’t die from this. He doesn’t need to learn that from anyone. It’s instinct. “Disrespect me again, and I’ll be more than happy to give you your first lesson.”
A small nod answers me. I ease my tight hold, allowing Vince’s neck to heal enough to talk. This next vow is one I need verbalized. “Do you know what a blood vow is?”
He shakes his head, and I make an amused sound that narrows his eyes. “It’s a vow where you hand over your free will. Hurt anyone I consider mine, and I will demand you give me your blood vow, turning me into your master, or I’ll end your life before you even get a chance to live it. Is that clear enough for you to understand?”
“Yes.” No smugness, no challenge, no doubt. The acceptance in Vince’s tone and expression is the defeated kind of realization. “I understand.”
I shove Vince away, throwing his body into the nearest tree. “Then get out of here.”
He pushes to a sitting position but doesn’t stand. “If you’re here for Zoe, you might want to get up there. Zoe’s not right in the head. She’s messed-up, actually, and if one of these days, she gives in to what’s tormenting her, then we’ll both lose her.”
Josh’s warning repeats in my head. Zoe’s troubled, and she’s a flight risk.
And it’s Vince’s fault.
I still don’t know why or how, but right in this moment, it doesn’t matter. Zoe needs me.
Turning my back on Vince, I run, the last section of the road zipping by as I push my body faster than any mere human can move. The SUV would’ve been quicker, but if Zoe hears the rumble of the engine, she might get spooked. My goal is to keep her close, not send her running again.
The stench of fox piss reaches me. So does Zoe’s scent. And mine. Our fragrances will forever be intertwined. No cover-up will mask it completely. But it will confuse a predator long enough to give her the chance to escape. Most shifters wouldn’t expect a human to resort to such a tactic. Most humans aren’t Zoe, however.
My woman is resourceful. The trait will come in handy. I can’t guarantee a safe and happy future. As an alpha, danger is expected. As my mate, Zoe will need to prepare for the same outcome I do every day—that one day, I might not come home.
With a human mate, I’ll be basically inviting defeat. All it’ll take is Zoe’s death to end my life. Such is the consequence of the soul bond necessary to grant her immortality. Our souls and our lives will be as interlaced as our scents are now.
“And that’s the way it should be.”
An owl hooting in the distance answers me, as if agreeing with my statement. Smirking, I scan the woods until I connect with its alert gaze. Had I been a practicing shaman, I’d be able to use the beast to scout these woods for me. As a male who’s never developed my shamanic roots, I must rely on other tactics. Lucky for me, my cats are excellent trackers.
Circling the ’Cuda, I take in every inch of the car I’ve always prized. It annoyed me when Zoe stole it. Actually, for a time, I’d wanted it back more than Zoe. I’ll admit to my stupidity…at least in my own mind. As the nights dragged on and dreams of Zoe kept me on edge, however, there was no denying the truth. It wasn’t the car I longed to have back. It was the woman who drove it.
It’s time she knows it too.
I strip, tossing my clothes in the ’Cuda’s backseat, along with my leather dress shoes, and call forth my jaguar, the best tracker out of my trio of cats.
Using my jaguar’s wide head, I push the car door closed, then follow Zoe’s scent trail into the woods. Although overgrown, the path takes a definite route through the trees. I know where it’ll lead. I followed it once before, right after uncovering the scant few details I have about the night that resulted in Zoe losing her baby and her supposed once-in-a-lifetime love.
The bitterness chokes me, tearing a huffing sound from my jaguar’s throat. The big cat shakes its head, then its body, before flicking its tail, essentially shaking off my anger. My jaguar has no use for the resentment. The dead can’t be killed again. In its primal mind, there’s no use exerting energy over something that might hinder its ability to hunt now. I can’t help bu
t agree. This isn’t about my indignation. How would Zoe know the beauty of what a true mate bond could offer when I never showed her how good we’d be together? That’s my failing. And it’s one I plan on correcting. Starting tonight.
The clearing where Zoe was found bleeding to death all those years ago opens before me. On four paws, I step onto the ground Zoe’s blood once soaked. A chill seeps into my jaguar’s paws. The icy snow covering the ground—that’s the only explanation for the reaction. With my cat’s core temperature raised to counter the cold, I survey the area. My cat’s gaze zeroes in on the human boot print and the scent of a Royal feline.
Every muscle in my body locks as my cat interrupts the multitude of sensory inputs of this area and focuses on the sound of someone coming this way. The short gait and the lightness of the person moving though the underbrush hints at Zoe being the one approaching. After a moment, her scent with its lingering touch of fox piss reaches me.
The debate plays through my head—shift and greet her as a naked male, or remain in my jaguar’s form.
Wearing only a thermal top and leggings, Zoe steps into the clearing before I can make a choice. Then stops. Her body goes ramrod straight. She jerks her head to the woods, first to the left and then to the right. Her gaze locks on mine. Pride works its way through my jaguar’s body. It’s my emotion, just as the bitterness earlier, but the pleased grunt is all my cat’s.
Zoe’s a fitting mate.
In my jaguar form, I leave the underbrush and close the distance between us. Quicker than I’d expect a human to move, she pulls a gun from the waistband of her pants and aims. For a second time tonight, I freeze. Zoe doesn’t recognize me. Why would she? Zoe’s never seen me in my jaguar’s form.
Tugging on the tether linking my soul to my jaguar’s soul, I rein in the animal, allowing my human form to emerge. Before our images blend, a pop rings out. The bullet hits my jaguar’s head—my head. Pain explodes between my eyes.