Hour of the Lion

by Cherise Sinclair

  Helen glanced at the western mountains where the sun was disappearing. "We need to get dressed. Calum‘s going to do your introduction to the clan, and you can‘t show up in a uniform.

  C‘mon."

  Well, at least Calum had mentioned that. Just a general, here"s a new member. Nothing formal, but yeah, wearing a uniform wouldn‘t be appropriate.

  Heather led the way back into the bedroom. "Alec dropped off stuff for you earlier. Let‘s see what he brought." She started pulling clothes out and rejected most of them. A pair of jeans passed inspection. The tight suede boots were approved.

  Vic scowled. "What‘s wrong with my shirts? They cover me—what more is needed?"

  "Well, now, honey. There‘s covering"—Heather pulled a white top out of her suitcase and held it up—"and there‘s covering. Try this on."

  "My bra straps will show"

  "No bra. It‘s tight enough you don‘t need one."

  "Uh-huh." After dropping her bra, Vic pulled the shirt over her head and walked over to the mirror. Silvery-white, low cut, almost a spandex material, the tank top clung to every curve and was snug enough to push her breasts up, displaying an amazing amount of cleavage. "Well.

  That‘s a little indiscreet."

  Heather laughed and wiggled into a similar top in a golden color that set off her russet hair.

  "Tonight, we flaunt it. No underwear, sexy clothes. Tomorrow it‘s back to being ladies. Now, let‘s see. My mascara, liner, and shadow will work for you. Use them."

  "Sir, yes, sir," Vic muttered, obediently seating herself at the dressing table. As she stroked mascara on her lashes, she asked, "If the men are so hot for us, why bother with the getup?"

  Heather started on her own makeup. "It‘s like this: no matter the ratio, there‘s still a lot of women in that room. And even if a woman wants a man, he can refuse her."

  Vic shrugged. "So she finds someone else. BFD."

  "Stop sulking and use your brain. You don‘t want to mate with just any guy; you want the best genes for your potential children. It‘s instinct."

  "Mmmhmm." I‘m not fucking anyone; I‘m not going into heat. Period.

  Heather set down the mascara and gave Vic a pointed look. "As Cosantir, Calum‘s at the top of the genetic heap. As a cahir, Alec is too."

  Vic stiffened. Now wait just one little minute—women would be in heat and coming on to her men? My men?

  *

  With Jamie beside him, Calum leaned against the front of his bar, letting the clan chatter away. He‘d given them a lot to discuss: Lachlan‘s gift to Victoria, the attacks on her and on Jamie, what was being done, what they needed to do. He‘d told Heather to come late; Victoria didn‘t need to suffer through hearing about Lachlan again.

  They would arrive any time, so he raised his hand for quiet. When a few people continued talking, he snarled. The ensuing silence was profound.

  Alec, standing in his usual place at the end of the bar, gave him an amused look.

  "To conclude on a more enjoyable note, shall we recognize our new clan members?" Calum said, and with impeccable timing, Heather walked into the tavern, followed by...Victoria?

  "Herne‘s Holy Antlers," Alec whispered, echoing Calum‘s reaction.

  His female—and she would be his female—wore tight jeans, and a...some sort of shirt that molded to her lush breasts and nipples that had peaked from the cold. Her lovely long hair rippling across her shoulders and down to her ass, and she‘d done something to make her eyes darker, deeper, bigger. He could only stare and force his lust under control.

  When he saw every man in the tavern gaping, he barely kept from snarling again. After clearing his throat, his voice still held a growl. "Just in time. Clan members. The clan welcomes Victoria, a werecat."

  The room chorused back. "We See Victoria."

  "The clan welcomes Jamie, a werecat." He smiled at his daughter, pride surging within him.

  "We See Jamie."

  "The clan welcomes Tanner, a werewolf," Calum said, and a blond teenager, standing beside his mother, grinned widely.

  "We See Tanner."

  "Rejoice, Daonain, the clan increases," Calum finished.

  The meeting broke up with cheering. Some Daonain slipped out to run and hunt together on the mountain before the Gathering. Others greeted the youngsters and Victoria. Victoria seemed to have an inordinate number of men around her, Calum noticed, trying not to react.

  "Timed it well," Alec said, joining him. He nodded toward the window where the gleam of the sun barely topped the western mountains. "You‘re improving."

  Calum sighed. His first meeting had started late, and he‘d foolishly tried to continue after moonrise when the females came into heat. The clan still laughed about it.

  *

  There were far too many people in the bar, dammit. The attention. The noise. The smells.

  Vic wormed her way to the back exit.

  Outside, the air was crisp and cold. She leaned against the building, ears ringing. God, what a crowd. She hadn‘t realized so many shifters lived in the area.

  For a few minutes, she watched the moon inch into the dark sky, sending a pale glow over the snow-covered mountains. Pretty. And it was time to get moving. She glanced at the second floor. A light was on—Jamie‘d gone home. Apparently, she wouldn‘t go into heat until around twenty or so which was a good thing, since Vic would cripple any man who touched the girl.

  Maybe the kid would like to play some poker. Vic grinned. Looked like she could leave too since, obviously, the female-in-heat business had passed her by. Thank you, baby Jesus.

  The backyard entrance was around the building, so she walked along the side, scuffling her boots in the gravel. At the scent of wood smoke, she looked up. Someone had built a fire inside, and smoke puffed up from the chimney. A translucent air sylph danced in the updraft, its elongated body sinuous and graceful.

  As Vic rounded the front corner of the tavern, she lost her balance like the ground had fallen out from under her foot. She put a hand on the wall to steady herself. The grain of the wood felt rough against her fingers, almost too rough. She straightened as her bare arms tingled with the slight breeze. As she took a step, her jeans scraped over her thighs…rubbed over her pussy. A tremor shook her. With her every movement, the slick material of her top sensuously slid over her breasts and hardening nipples.

  She could hear the people inside. The men‘s deep voices were tantalizing, their gruff laughter giving her chills. She wanted to hear them, see them, and her feet carried her that way before she‘d even thought about moving.

  At the front door of the tavern, she stopped, her hand on the heavy ironwork handle. She couldn‘t move. Everything in her demanded that she go within, to touch and be touched, and...

  No, I"m going home. Her fingers tightened on the door. I"m going inside. She shook her head.

  Her body wasn‘t doing what she told it to—this wasn‘t her at all.

  "Somewhat intense, isn‘t it." Calum‘s deep voice washed over her and brought every nerve to full awareness. She spun around.

  He stood so close her breasts crushed into his muscular chest, pulling a moan from her.

  A low growl came from him, and he grasped her by the arms, his grip not cruel, just firm enough to send her head spinning. He was strong, so strong, and a leader, and every cell in her body wanted him.

  "Now, I‘d say you‘re having trouble because it‘s your first time, but I am experiencing a definite loss of control as well." His hands slid up and down her arms, and the muskiness of a man reached her. She inhaled, filling her senses with his scent.

  He bent and nipped her jaw, sending goosebumps up her arms. "Victoria. Cariad, I would be honored to be your first mating of this, your first Gathering."

  When she breathed, "Yes," he lifted her into his arms, carried her into the tavern, and up the stairs.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  In the tiny room, firelight flicked over a sea of velvety brown cushions, and
Vic shivered with need. Put me there. Take me.

  Calum kicked the door closed and lay her down. His eyes were intense, his gaze a palpable touch, arousing her until she wanted to writhe. She pushed the urge away— have you no pride, woman? —and sat up.

  His lips curved. "Strong little female." The rumble of his voice was like a hand running down her spine, and she bit her lip, needing him inside her so badly she almost burst into tears. If he didn‘t do something, she‘d completely humiliate herself and beg.

  He straddled her legs and lifted her chin, examining her face, her body. "Ah, cariad, it has you good." His thumb rubbed her trembling lips. "We will play no games this time then, little cat. You will have what you require."

  With a sure touch, he stripped her of her clothes, and each movement of his firm hands ignited a new spark. Her pussy throbbed; the need for him was growing painful. A shiver ran through her as his masculine scent washed over her. So very male.

  He unzipped his jeans. His cock sprang free, long and thick. Like the trunk of a massive oak on his mountain, it held no curve at all. Her head swam, her needs fighting with her refusal to concede, and she didn‘t know what to do. Her fingernails dug into her skin, creating sharp pains to join the rest.

  He knelt in front of her and pried her fingers loose. "I have never known a female as stubborn or as strong." With his palm, he cupped her cheek. "Look at me, Victoria."

  When she met his razor-sharp gaze, her skin heated as if she‘d stepped into a sauna. Her hands went limp in his. Smiling slightly, he put them on his shoulders and came down on her, crushing her in the cushions with his solid weight.

  Her arms tightened. She smoldered with heat, her nipples so tight that she gasped as his chest flattened them. When his legs pressed hers open, the light dusting of his hair scraped her tender inner thighs. Everywhere he touched burned.

  "Calum." The hoarse voice…was hers? She struggled against him for a second, terrified of losing herself completely.

  But then his fingers touched her sex, and the feeling was…indescribable, like a band of excitement being drawn taut low in her belly.

  His rumble sounded like a purr as he pressed her open. Paused…and then sheathed himself with one thrust.

  Everything inside her exploded, the pleasure too intense, engulfing her, battering her. She screamed as the waves of sensation rolled over her mind, drowning her completely.

  A second—a minute—a lifetime later—she stared up at his hard face. So strong. Needing to touch, she moved and realized her fingernails had dug into his back. Wet. She‘d made him bleed.

  When? "I‘m sorry."

  "I‘m not." Amusement rippled through his voice as he nuzzled the crook of her neck.

  God, she felt great. All her tension had disappeared, and she‘d had a fantastic orgasm.

  His black hair lay loose over his shoulders, and she ran her hands through the silky tangles and lifted her face for a kiss. He took her lips leisurely, simply pleasing himself and her until she wiggled in enjoyment. And froze. He was still fully erect inside her. He hadn‘t come? "Don‘t you want to…?"

  He nuzzled her neck. "I will wait for you."

  She gave him a puzzled look.

  "I give it about thirty more seconds, and you‘ll demand that I move."

  It took only fifteen.

  First her skin grew a billion new nerves until she could feel the slightest brush of hair against her legs, feel his chest rise and fall, how warm his hands were, and the calluses on his palms. The deepness of his voice made her insides clench and when she felt his cock there, still thick and hard, a riptide of lust tried to sweep her away. She clung to sanity. "Calum."

  His eyes were hot, yet sparkling with laughter. "Let go, little cat," he whispered, and then…then he started to move. Oh God, she‘d never felt anything like it before. A slow slide out and in, setting every nerve rippling awake. A pause. Such a quiet rhythm to send her senses spiraling upward.

  The crease in his cheek deepened as he lifted her hips and slammed into her, hard and deep—a pounding shock that pushed her off the cliff into a mindless orgasm.

  An hour later, he showered with her in the tiny bathroom, and she wasn‘t sure if she liked him or hated him. She‘d had no control whatsoever over anything he did, yet he‘d given her exactly what she wanted. Over and over. He‘d set her feet on his shoulders and thrust into her in a hard relentless rhythm that she could still feel inside. Her climax had almost killed her.

  But within minutes, she‘d roused, needing more. He teased her with his fingers until she couldn‘t breathe as the orgasm shot through her. After, she‘d contentedly snuggled in his arms, and then, as if a switch had turned on, she‘d wanted him. He‘d simply smiled, rolled her over with merciless hands, and taken her from behind, straight and hard, and she‘d screamed her way through another orgasm. And yet again as he released into her, filling her with his hot seed.

  After that, she‘d felt so satisfied, she figured she‘d sleep in the pile of pillows all night, but much too soon, the tingle began in her again. The need to be touched, to be filled. This time, when she‘d closed her fingers around him, Calum had stood and lifted her to her feet.

  "I‘ve stayed with you longer than I should as it is, cariad," he said and pulled her into the shower.

  The splash of hot water over her sensitive skin felt heavenly, and when he washed her back, her breasts...everything, her hips tilted into his hand. "More..."

  But he ignored her, dried her off so gently, yet so thoroughly that she ached with need before he finished. Putting on clothes seemed the very height of insanity. "Let‘s go back to bed."

  He shook his head, and she wanted to punch him. "Downstairs, little cat."

  Cursing under her breath, she pulled on her clothes. He picked up her boots and socks. He took her hand and led her, barefoot, back down into the noisy tavern. Almost a quarter of the people had disappeared, she noticed. After tossing her boots behind the bar, Calum didn‘t release her, just moved her across the room to a destination obvious only to him.

  "Where are you taking me?" she asked, planting her feet.

  He frowned. "I hoped Alec would be here, but—"

  "Well, now, he had some emergency that only the sheriff could deal with." Daniel walked up, a beer in each hand. As he handed one to Calum, he tilted his head as if asking a question.

  Calum‘s lips tightened but he nodded. His voice sounded hoarse as he said, "‗Tis harder than I thought it would be, but I‘m glad you‘re here, Daniel."

  "Calum?" Worried, Vic ran her hand down his arm. God, he had great muscles. And his hands, the way they‘d touched her… She blinked, remembered the question, "Is something wrong?"

  "I am only regretting that I must leave you now to the care of others." His eyes had gone black, never a good sign. He framed her face between his strong hands. "But I will stay over there by the bar, cariad, should any problems arise."

  Giving Daniel an unreadable look, he kissed Vic quickly and walked away. She took a step after him—

  "Vicki, this one‘s for you, girl." Daniel slid smoothly in front of her and pushed a beer into her hand. When she tried to look around him, he shook his head. "He can‘t stay with you, sweetie. I‘m sorry."

  She sighed. "You guys have too many rules." Dammit, she felt lost without him, and she needed him and—

  Daniel moved close enough she could feel the warmth of his body. She had to tilt her head to look up at him. He was a werebear, she remembered, and built like one. Big and powerful. His sleeves were rolled up showing forearms thick with muscle. "Muscles…" she whispered.

  "I have a fondness for women with muscles too." He ran a finger up her bare arm over her biceps.

  She shivered at the feeling.

  "Don‘t you like the beer I brought you?"

  "Oh—oh, yeah." She was holding a bottle, wasn‘t she? The cold malty liquid slid down her throat, and she closed her eyes at the marvelous taste of it. "That‘s wonderful," she murmured.
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  Opening her eyes, she met his intent gaze, his blue gaze hot as molten steel. He leaned forward and licked a few drops off her lip, the touch of his tongue velvety. His musky scent enveloped her, touched her skin as if he‘d stroked over her with his hands.

  "Um." She shook her head. Get a grip. It"s only lust. Horny, she‘d felt horny before, for God‘s sake.

  Another man came over, nudged Daniel to one side, and earned himself a slight snarl. "My name is Harvey," he said, pressing a kiss to her wrist.

  She snatched her hand back, all her tingles abruptly cooling. She scowled before conquering her irritation. "Yeah. Um. Nice to meet you," she managed, and glancing over at Daniel, her gaze locked onto his again. His lips curved slowly. He should put those lips on hers. On her.

  Unable to resist, she ran her finger over his mouth, silky soft, then down over his square jaw.

  The slight rasp made her shiver.

  "Upstairs?" he whispered, "or do you want to talk for a while first." His fingers toyed with her hair, the little touches like sparks against her skin.

  "Tal—" Hell with it. "Upstairs."

  How many tiny rooms did this place contain? This one had red pillows in every size and shape and texture. Taking her beer from her, Daniel set it on a table in the corner of the room.

  Just watching his movements with the slight swagger of a cowboy weakened her knees. She sank down to the floor. This was total insanity.

  "Hey, hey," Daniel murmured, kneeling before her. "I know it‘s overwhelming the first time, especially for you, being new to shifter customs." He pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair. "We can go as easy as you like."

  "How long does this last?"

  "From moonrise to moonset. With dawn, everything returns to normal."

  She could hear his heart, slow and steady, the feel of his hard muscles against her cheek. His scent. She frowned. His scent was wrong; his hands were wrong. Not Alec; not Calum. Suddenly she pushed away, unable to find enough air.

  He released her and didn‘t move, only tilted his head. His nostrils flared, and then he frowned. "One minute you want me, the next you don‘t."