"The law against fornicating with a human. The law which resulted in her being forced into exile and made her spend the rest of her days hiding from her people. All because she had the audacity to love her child. And for the record, my mother did not willingly sleep with a human. She was raped."
Caitlyn hurled the words at him like missiles, and he reacted like being struck by one. Damien shot to his feet, fury etched his features.
"What?” he roared with such force that Caitlyn took an unconscious step backwards out of self protection. He swore viciously. “Someone raped a Tigre woman?” he thundered.
"I told you she didn't willingly betray her Pride,” Caitlyn told him in a rush. “My mother was an honorable woman."
She watched Damien visibly struggle to regain control of his emotions. Nostrils flaring, he asked through gritted teeth, “How old was your mother when...” he choked off, unable to put the horrific act into words.
Caitlyn had apparently underestimated the value a pride placed on its female members, even the dishonored ones. “Fifteen,” she whispered, reminding herself that she needed to find a weapon. There had to be something she could use, but her feet were strangely nailed to the floor, her gaze caught by the molten fury in the man's eyes.
"I assume that her alpha killed the bastard,” he finally ground-out, after taking several deep breaths following Caitlyn's revelation.
She had the strangest sense that he was asking her for comfort, to tell him that justice had been done on her mother's behalf. She regretted that she couldn't provide him that comfort.
"No. My mother was so ashamed that she ran. She left her Pride that very day, and just when she worked up the courage to return home, she learned she carried me. Since your kind considers mixing Tigre and human blood an abomination, she chose not to go back."
Damien stared at her as if he was having difficulty processing the information she provided. Caitlyn felt the foundation of her Tigre beliefs beginning to tilt.
"She never went home?” he asked. “Never sought support from Pride members?"
Unexpected tears pricked the back of Caitlyn's eyes. Remembering her mother's strength and implacable courage never failed to move her.
"My mother had to choose between her Pride and her child. She knew if she returned to the Pride they might kill her, but they would definitely kill me. Despite my origin, my mother loved me more than herself and her Pride. She chose me."
Damien's brows shot up when she said the word ‘kill'. He ran both hands through his midnight hair, tousling it, and giving him an even wilder and more untamed look. He stared down at the floor for a moment then raised a tortured face to her gaze.
"Caitlyn,” Damien began, and her traitorous body reacted at the sound of her name on his lips. “No one is going to hurt you. No Tigre would ever kill a woman, especially not a Tigre woman.” His large hand came up and cupped the side of her face with infinite tenderness. “Regardless of what human blood flows in your veins, make no mistake, you are Tigre."
Her skin burned where his hand touched her and the desire to feel those hands run along her body hit her so strong her throat went dry. Swallowing convulsively, she tried to take a step back, but found a chair directly behind her. She jerked her head away from his hand. His touch robbed her of her wits, and she desperately needed them about her.
He dropped his hand and the air stirred, carrying even more of his scent to her. The intoxicating scent of spice and sandalwood was so thick and rich that she wanted to wrap herself in it like a cloak.
"I know the rules from my mother,” she said and hated hearing the faint whisper in her voice rather than the bite of fury. “Tigre women are not to lie with human men, and no child conceived from such an unspeakable union will be suffered to live."
To her surprise, he turned and moved away from her. Suddenly presented with his back, she was irrationally glad she hadn't found a weapon. For some reason, the idea of striking him hard enough to knock him unconscious turned her stomach, but she couldn't puzzle out why. He could kill her with a flick of his wrist and she couldn't even knock him out? What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn't the kind of woman who lost her backbone just because she slept with man, no matter how mind-blowing the sex.
Damien sat down in the chair that appeared to be his favorite and tilted his head back. He looked exhausted and older, as though Caitlyn's revelations had aged him decades.
"Female Tigre are rare and essential to the continuation of our species,” he said. “We protect them at all costs. Some Prides...” his voice trailed off and he shoved a hand through his hair again, before continuing. “In the past, Prides used lies and fear as part of their protection strategy. The young females were told wild tales to scare them away from human men. I've heard that some Prides still use this technique."
Caitlyn wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off a cold that she knew had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. “Wild tales?"
"In truth, your mother could have slept with any human man without fear of repercussions. She could even marry one and not been exiled from her Pride."
Caitlyn sat heavily on the chair. The foundation she had felt tilt now buckled and crumbled beneath her. Her mind screamed ‘it's a lie', and her stomach sank when she slowly realized that Damien spoke the truth. Her mother had suffered exile, loneliness and great hardship because of a bully's intimidation tactic.
"But she carried a half-human child. She still would have had to choose between me and the Pride."
Damien shook his head. “Pregnancy is part of the scare tactic. Children between Tigre and human are impossible. Or were until you."
Caitlyn's mind froze and several moments went by before it engaged again. “There's never been—in all the history of the world—a situation where a human and Tigre have been married or had a torrid affair or anything that would have resulted in a child."
"There've been plenty, including marriages,” Damien responded. “But none of those unions have ever produced a child. We believed the species were incompatible for breeding purposes."
That raised Caitlyn's hackles. “Breeding purposes? That sounds like something that's been considered—like something you'd say about the lineage of a show dog."
"Show cat,” he corrected and the corners of his mouth kicked up. “But that's not what I meant. We fight to survive. Few female children are born compared to male children, and that makes extinction a real threat. As distasteful as you find the word ‘breeding', it's a practical matter essential to our survival."
"Well, I think I'm proof that breeding,” she stressed the word coldly, “with humans doesn't work. I'm not a shifter."
"No, but your children might be."
Her mouth fell open. “Children? I've never considered children. The risk to the child would be too great if it were discovered by Tigre Prides."
Her blunt honesty obviously offended him. “The Tigre would never send assassins after a female or a child. And had you mated with a human, the blood would dilute so that no traces of Tigre would remain after a few generations."
Something about that sentence struck Caitlyn as odd, but she struggled with the revelations confronting her. It seemed foolish to accept Damien's word in light of her mother's teaching and warning, but she did. Something fundamental inside her knew he was not lying. It amazed her that just a few spoken words could completely alter her existence past, present, and future.
Chapter Six
Caitlyn let Damien fix her breakfast. She'd accepted that she would miss her statistics class this morning. Under the circumstances, missing a class no longer seemed a question of life or death.
They'd been eating in silence. Damien seemed to understand her need to process the information he provided, and she appreciated that.
She forked another bite of eggs and asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘had you mated with a human the blood would dilute'? You don't think I'm going to voluntarily be part of some breeding program, do you?"
His eyebrows and amusement crossed his handsome features. He took a swallow of coffee before answering. “I hadn't considered it a ‘breeding program',” he said and laughed.
Caitlyn's hackles rose. “I am not some science experiment."
"No, you most certainly are not,” he said, with a rakish gleam in his eye. When she didn't return his smile, his humor fled and in a somber tone, he told her, “We mated last night."
Instantly, Caitlyn felt her face flame. She was an adult for crying out loud. Surely she could discuss sex during a morning after breakfast with a lover and not drown in embarrassment. “I'm aware of that. I was there,” she haughtily informed him.
He studied her with serious eyes over the rim of his coffee cup. “What did your mother tell you about Tigre relationships?"
"Nothing. She taught me to avoid Tigre at all costs.” A self-deprecating smile crossed her face. “Not that you could tell that from my recent behavior."
"Did she explain heat and fever to you?"
"No,” Caitlyn replied warily. She had a feeling he was about to make another monumental statement, and she idly wondered how many more revelations she could handle before suffering a psychotic break.
"We are biologically different from humans. Your dance last night, the displaying of your young, fertile body, declared your desire for your mate. It called to my cat in a way no other woman has before. I knew you were my mate before you left the stage. The scent of your mate—my scent—sent you into heat."
"What?” she shrieked.
"The gods choose our mates for us. They chose you for me and me for you. Tigre mate for life. When you went into heat, you were consumed by the need to copulate with me, to bind yourself to me. The mating fever lasts until your body receives my sperm and the first rite of mating concludes."
"What?” she repeated, staring at him as though he were an alien from outer space. Some biological imperative had compelled her to mate with him?
"It's a natural process,” he told her as calmly as if he were discussing the weather. “It ensures the continuation of the species and provides us with our soul mates. I am fortunate to have found you. With so few females, many Tigre men spend their lives without a predestined mate."
"Oh my God,” she gasped. “You didn't use a condom."
"Of course not. Only my seed inside you could ease the mating fever."
"Did you even consider pregnancy?” she asked in a rising voice. “Or disease?"
"Tigre are not susceptible to sexually transmitted diseases, or most other human diseases for that matter,” Damien told her calmly, unperturbed by her growing outrage. “As for pregnancy, nothing would make me happier than having my mate carry my child."
"And if I don't want to be pregnant?” she demanded. Her mind couldn't seem to wrap itself around his announcement that they were predestined mates, so she focused on the birth control crisis.
"Then from now on we will take precautions until you are ready to carry my child,” he replied.
Her mind raced. He was way too calm about her denying him a child. “Does this ‘heat’ force ovulation?"
"Not that I'm aware of. It merely ensures the mating bond."
"And if I don't want to bond with you?"
His brows drew together in obvious anger at her question. “It doesn't matter. We are bonded. Prolonged separation from one another will cause distress and then pain."
"I don't think I'll suffer a moment of distress once I'm away from you,” she spat childishly. Glaring at him she rose from the chair and flung her napkin onto the table. “Where's the phone? I need to call a cab. I have work to do."
His jaw worked and she realized he fought to control his temper. For some idiotic reason she wasn't frightened. She knew in her bones this man would never hurt her.
"I will return you to your car, but I will not allow you to work in that place any longer,” he said.
Irate, she clamped her hands on her hips. “Allow? Allow? You won't allow me to work at The Tiger's Eye. News flash, Bub. This ain't the Dark Ages. I don't take orders from you or anyone."
A single, black brow winged upward. “You are overwrought. It's understandable given the situation."
She felt the vein in her forehead begin to throb. “Just take me to my car,” she hissed.
* * * *
Damien stared moodily at the woman in the passenger's seat. He had not handled the issue of her job well, but she had to understand such behavior was unacceptable for a Tigre woman.
They were approaching the club, and she hadn't said a word to him since leaving the house. Finally, he spoke. “I noticed a university parking decal on your car."
She continued to stare straight ahead. “I'm working on my master's degree in social work. Dancing just pays the bills."
"Paid the bills,” he growled before he could stop himself.
"You are not my keeper,” she snapped.
"No, but I am your mate. Your safety and welfare are my responsibility,” he explained reasonably. “In fact, I am more than capable of supporting you. You needn't work at all, but may finish your degree if you'd like."
To his surprise, his generous offer made her angrier. “Have you contemplated the idea that I don't want a mate? That I'm half human and don't consider this ‘mating’ thing binding? That I want to be a social worker?"
Her words propelled a violent denial through him, and he ground his teeth in frustration. “I'm trying to take care of you."
"I don't need you to take care of me. I've been taking care of myself for a long time,” she told him quietly and reached for the door handle before he pulled into the parking space beside her car.
She opened the door and he stopped her flight with a hand on her arm. “Have dinner with me tonight."
"I can't. I need some time."
"I understand.” He didn't like it, but he understood.
"Thank you."
Damien pressed a kiss on her cheek and one of his cards into her soft palm. “Call me when you're ready."
Caitlyn didn't respond. Instead, she opened the door and stepped into the bright sunlight of the morning.
He leaned forward when she turned to close the door. “I'll be waiting for you, my wildcat."
She hesitated then closed the door. He watched her start her car and pull out of the parking lot.
Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he left the lot in the opposite direction, before making the block and following her at a discrete distance. The need to see her safely to her destination pulsed in his blood. If he were honest with himself, he also wanted to see where she lived.
She parked in front of a neatly kept apartment complex in a middle-class section of town. He watched her climb the stairs and noted which apartment she entered before reluctantly turning the car around.
He hadn't handled his new mate well and needed advice. Like any self-respecting, independent man, he drove straight to his mother's house.
* * * *
"Look who's doing the walk of shame,” Jan teased.
Caitlyn glared at her annoyingly cheerful roommate. She was not in the mood for teasing. “Good morning,” she ground out, hoping she didn't sound like she was strangling on a spike.
The humor fled from Jan's face. So much for masking her discomfort.
"Stewart called,” her roommate said apologetically.
Caitlyn winced, knowing what was coming.
"He said you were fired and to come by and clean out your locker today."
"Thanks,” she replied and headed down the hall towards her room.
Jan was hot on her heels, concern etched on her face. “Do you need to talk?"
Caitlyn paused in the doorway of her room. Actually Jan, I'm a physical impossibility produced by the mating of two different species, and last night I had the most amazing sex of my life with a shape shifter who claims to be my permanent mate through some metaphysical bonding shit. “No, but thanks anyway."
"I'm leaving for the field today
. I won't be back for a week,” Jan warned.
Caitlyn smiled. Jan worked as a geo-archaeologist, which paid about as well as McDonalds, only with worse hours, working conditions, and benefits. For some bizarre reason, Jan seemed to enjoy her job. “I can survive a week on my own. Have fun and try not to stumble onto an Indian burial ground and bring back a curse."
A bright smile lit Jan's face. Her good cheer restored at the thought of digging around dead people. “I'll try."
Caitlyn closed the door and moved into the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower.
Three days later, as she lay huddled on the couch wrapped in a blanket, her flippant words to Jan haunted her. She felt as though fire-hot pins pressed against the inside of her skin. Colors around her appeared washed out and a low ringing sounded in her ears. Her body seemed to have turned against her, even breathing was difficult. It cried out for something, and she feared she knew what it needed.
She rocked back and forth, desperate to ease the suffering. A loud knock startled her and she whimpered. Just the thought of rising and crossing the room to peer through the peephole exhausted her. Caitlyn glanced towards the door. It was unlocked.
"Come in,” she called weakly.
She rested her head against the arm of the sofa and watched the handle turn. Damien's broad frame filled the doorway, and she nearly wept with relief. He crossed the room with a confident stride and knelt beside her shivering body.
"This is unacceptable,” he announced, hauling her into his arms. “I cannot believe you would rather suffer like this than call your mate to you."
At his touch, the fiery pokers beneath her skin vanished. She inhaled his heady scent, and her breathing relaxed. The blanket fell to the floor and Caitlyn closed her eyes, resting her head against his strong shoulder. His hands sketched a soothing pattern along her back.
Her agony abated and her body eased, allowing her to melt against him. Time stood still as she enjoyed Damien's gentle ministrations. His touch did more than sooth her physical distress. It felt as though he were seeping through her skin and into her very soul.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she finally lifted her head to meet his beautiful amber gaze. It could have been minutes or hours.
The Tiger's Eye Page 4