by Layla Nash
Too soon, though, a door moved behind me and an exasperated voice said, "You can't be serious."
I ran, dodged around a corner and sprinted for an open window. Fumbling with the sill and the heavy curtains, I dared a glance behind me and froze.
A lion — a real fucking lion — paced down the hall toward me. It stood at least five feet tall at the shoulder and its paws looked bigger than a car steering wheel, even without the wicked claws that bit into the carpet. I cursed, getting one leg out the window before bothering to look down, and regretted both decisions. A three-story drop waited, along with a couple of broken legs. I closed my eyes. No use running on broken legs. The lion paused a few feet away and I stared at it, defeat paralyzing my limbs even as the chill outside air numbed my fingers where they gripped the sill.
The lion stared at me and I stared at it. Its eyes looked too familiar, too aware, and too sad for it to be a coincidence. It was Atticus, without a doubt. My heart climbed to my throat as my hands went clammy and my knees shook. I shook my head, whispering, "I don't think I can do this."
A purr rattled in his throat and he lowered his head to snuffle my leg, took my foot gently in his mouth, and tugged me out of the window until I collapsed in a heap on the fine, clean carpet. The lion lay down next to me, still purring, and rested his chin on my hip. The massive weight of the lion's head didn't crush me, but provided a comforting warmth, and the soft fall of his mane hid me from the rest of the world. I could almost believe it would be okay.
Until the grim brother walked around the corner and assessed the situation. He studied the open window, then me, then the lion. He heaved a sigh. "Really, Sophia, you should learn your surroundings before trying to escape. You won't be anywhere below the third floor, so next time find a ladder."
When he took another step forward, Atticus the lion stiffened and the purr turned into a growl. A warning. The brother frowned, hands on his hips. "Really, Atticus, you can't —"
The growl grew louder and the lion eased up, though his paw remained on my leg. My breath caught and I tried to scramble out of the way in case Atticus blacked out like I did and decided to tear something apart with those massive paws. As the panic rose in my throat and the taste of bile followed, my skin crawled and another seizure welled up. Not here. Not like this.
I squeezed my eyes shut. "Oh no." The growling stopped and then the lion nosed my hair. His tongue rasped against my cheek in a sticky kiss. I tried to push him away. "I can't —"
My muscles tightened and I curled up in a ball against the pain, and everything went black.
Seven
His heart sank she cringed back and then the shift took her. The leopard jumped up and immediately bolted for the window. He snarled and sank his teeth into the back of her neck as Edgar swore and called for more tranquilizers. Atticus gave him a dark look as he dragged the enraged but very still leopard back down the hall toward the library. He felt like a damn fool, letting her use the bathroom and trusting that she wouldn't make a run for it. And the very first thing she did was run.
He would never admit it to Edgar, but Atticus hadn't meant to shift. So much for controlling her shifts or his own. His lion wanted to chase her, but he wanted the long chase — across the lawn, into the city, through the dark corners of downtown. Scenting her, tracking her, keeping the adrenaline pumping until he finally caught her.
The leopard growled a warning as his jaws tightened, and Atticus shook her a little to make it clear he could crush her throat and head if he really wanted. Her growl trailed off, but his picked up as one of Edgar's security team arrived with a dart gun and a handful of tranqs. Atticus stalked into the library and dragged Sophia into the cage once more. Edgar followed and kept the gun trained on her, just in case.
Atticus released the leopard and she retreated into the corner of the cage, hissing and spitting her fury, but Atticus slipped out through the door before Edgar slammed it shut and locked it again. Atticus paced the perimeter of the cage, scenting the air as she snarled. She tasted like winter.
He wanted to remain in the cage with her, curl up and nap so she could hear him purring and know she was safe, but with Edgar still there, he had to change back. Before she ran, Edgar told him the newly-established Alpha Council heard about her run through the city and shared Logan's concern about a rogue shifter getting them all killed. No doubt there were orders attached to such a proclamation. Edgar hadn't told him everything, he could see it in his older brother's face.
So Atticus transformed and searched out a fresh pair of sweatpants from one of the cupboards hidden in the library. He ran a hand through his hair and faced his brother, though he picked up the bottle of whiskey as well. The liquor helped to thaw the cold pit of despair in his stomach. "I know."
Edgar gave him a look over his shoulder, then returned his attention to Sophia in the cage. "I told you she would run."
"And I told you I would handle it." His teeth set on edge as he cleared the dishes from their dinner. He hesitated to get rid of the dessert — a fluffy dark chocolate mousse that tasted like heaven — since she might still want it. He set it aside, stacking everything else on the cart before facing his brother. "And I did. She's scared and in a cage and doesn't believe us. Of course she's going to run."
Edgar frowned as he approached Atticus and set the tranq gun aside. His expression grew troubled. "Atticus, man, I'm not worried about her. I'm worried about you. What's going on?"
"Nothing." Atticus tried to smile but it felt like his cheeks cracked under the effort. "I'm fine, Ed."
"No, you're not." Edgar lowered his voice and caught Atticus's shoulder to draw him closer. "Att, brother. You can tell me. I'm worried about you."
His heart sank. Edgar knew. Edgar always knew. Atticus cleared his throat and willed away the emotion that clogged his throat. He could never tell them, any of them. Logan wouldn't understand. Worse, Edgar would understand and he would sympathize. But that didn't mean Edgar would let Atticus live if he couldn't control the lion. And if his brothers knew Atticus was out of control, they'd be punished as well for letting him put all shifters in jeopardy.
Logan would be so disappointed. He relied on Atticus to be the enforcer, to make problems go away. There was no one else in the family to do that. He needed Atticus to be the brawn that protected the family, the pride, and now their mates. God help him if there were children soon, if either Eloise or Natalia got pregnant and they added cubs to the family. A blessing, truly, but also more responsibility. More to protect.
Atticus stuffed down the pain as he faced Edgar. "I'm fine. Really."
"Atticus."
He turned away. Every time Edgar said his name, it chipped away at his resolve and Atticus considered finally admitting how little control he had over the lion. But then Edgar would take Sophia away. One uncontrolled shifter was bad, but two... That was a disaster.
"Edgar, I'm fine. Just tired."
"It's not just that." Edgar rubbed the back of his neck, turning to look at the caged leopard. "It's not just her. At the fights, Att, you looked — desperate. I don't know, man, I've never seen you like that. Do you need the money? Are you gambling or using drugs or something?"
"Don't be ridiculous." Atticus managed a more genuine smile, shaking his head. "Just needed the thrill and the practice, Ed. That's all. Until she showed up." His gaze drifted to the cage as Sophia the leopard took a sphinx pose, watching them with inscrutable blue-gold eyes. "She changed things a little, but she's good. Better."
Edgar didn't look away from him. "Would you tell me if something were really wrong, Atticus?"
"Of course." Atticus poured himself more whiskey. He'd finish off Logan's good bottle by the end of the night at this rate. He raised the glass to Edgar in a mock toast. "You're my boss. Why would I hide anything from you?"
"I'm your brother first." Edgar gripped his shoulder with more strength, trying for reassuring though it carried a hint of threat as well. "And your boss a very far second. I know I
've leaned on you a lot in the past few months, and I'll rely on you even more as we move forward with this Alpha Council. But I need to know if I'm leaning on you too much, Att."
Atticus's heart sank. Just great. More people to be punished and hurt and maybe killed, and all of it on Atticus to accomplish quietly and efficiently. Hidden from the humans, hidden from the cops, hidden from the other shifters. But he only nodded and straightened his shoulders. "Sounds good. Just let me know when and where."
Edgar's dark eyes searched his face, then he clapped Atticus on the shoulder and retreated a few steps, giving him room. "Logan's sending Carter to that matchmaker tomorrow. We can make you an appointment, too. You haven't been on a date in months, man. Maybe that'll distract you from... everything." And Edgar's wide gesture took in not only the business and the mansion and the family but Sophia as well, moving fitfully in the cage.
"I don't need the matchmaker." Atticus snorted, shaking his head. He tried to imagine the control he'd need to go on a bunch of blind dates, all the lies he'd have to tell them and himself and his brothers. "It's fine. I'll find an apprentice or something. We can hire one of the tigers or jaguars to help out, train them up."
Edgar still didn't look convinced. He glanced at Sophia, then checked his watch. "If she doesn't change back in about thirty minutes, call me. Logan might have to force her back."
"She'll be fine." Atticus knew in his gut she would change back if he could just talk to her, convince her to listen. Once the leopard knew he wouldn't harm her, the cat would let the human back out. "We'll be fine. Just send up some extra clothes and stuff. And I might need Eloise to keep an eye on her if Sophia needs another trip to the bathroom."
Edgar nodded and disappeared out the door, already on his phone talking to someone about an emergency somewhere in the Chase business. Atticus waited until the door closed to dim the lights in the library and approach the cage. The leopard paced, hooking a paw through the bars to swat at him, but Atticus remained just out of reach. He sat, legs folded, and started talking. He told her everything about himself and his family and his fears, he listed his favorite movies and books, he made up stories to try to talk her back down — made easier by the fact that she didn't remember anything when she shifted.
He turned away for only a moment to retrieve the dessert, hoping the scent of chocolate might bring her back, and when he turned back, she was human again. Beautifully human, though brownish red splotches patterned her skin from knees to shoulders. Her dark red hair cascaded across her arm and the pillow in tangled curls, and the soft shape of her hips made his lion sit up and take notice. Atticus pushed away the raunchier thoughts her nakedness inspired.
"Sophia?"
She stirred, lifting her head and looking around blearily, and her face went bloodless as she saw him. She scrambled to cover herself, but winced and cried out at the pain of sudden transformation.
He held up his hands. "Wait, wait. Your skin is more sensitive after a shift. Everything is more sensitive. Close your eyes and focus on breathing. That helps."
She curled up under a blanket with her back to him. He gripped double handfuls of his hair as the soft sounds of weeping reached him and he couldn't comfort her. He couldn't fix it for her. She needed help and the damn cage stood between them.
A savage noise tore from his throat and Atticus unlocked the cage, let the door swing open until he could slide through, and knelt next to her. He touched her ankle, delicate and smooth under his fingers. "It's okay, Sophia. It will be okay. I promise."
"I'm a monster." The words barely reached him. The blanket moved until she peered over its edge and her tear-stained face appeared. "This is — horrible. Horrific. How do you stand it? It hurts."
"It doesn't always hurt." Atticus eased to lay down next to her, facing her, but left the blanket between them. She was totally naked and he only wore sweatpants. Anything less and the lion might get ideas. Sophia went still but the misery remained in her expression. Atticus wiggled closer and drew her against his chest, cuddling her head to his shoulder so he could smell her skin and brush his hand over her hair. "It doesn't. And you're not a monster. You're perfect. You're beautiful."
She made a disbelieving noise, turning her face away. "It was bad enough when I was just — when my parents just threw me away and I was defective with birthmarks and seizures and just — but now. Now I'm less than that. It's so much worse."
"You are so much more than that," he whispered. Atticus rubbed her back and nuzzled behind her ear. "You're perfect, Sophia. Gorgeous and smart and funny and you smell amazing."
She snorted, a watery laugh as she drew back enough to look him in the eyes. "A piece of advice, big guy. Don't ever tell a girl she smells. Even if she smells amazing."
"Okay." Atticus smiled. He brushed his lips against hers, startled at his own boldness, but her mouth begged to be kissed. Lush lips, soft and warm under his, and wide eyes still glassy with tears entreated him to explain. To make the problem go away. "But you smell amazing. We will fix this, Sophia, I promise."
She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his throat, her soft arm resting on his side until her fingers drifted across his back. Atticus shivered and drew her closer as a purr rattled to life in his chest. The rumble almost drowned out her words, whispered against his neck. "Maybe this is why they left me at the orphanage. I thought it was the seizures but maybe they knew I was an animal and that's why they didn't want me."
His heart cracked and he wanted to find whoever abandoned her just to punish them. The lion would revel in that, even if it was too late to really save her. Still, he had to protect his mate. Just the feeling of her close by calmed his lion, quieted everything inside him until he could finally breathe. He could finally relax as the lion curled up and dozed, content with having her close.
He kissed her forehead, her temple. "Never. They would have been shifters, too. They would have known. No shifter in their right mind would give up their young. We'll find them. We'll find out, if you want to know."
Tears fell hot and fast against his skin, and Atticus drew another blanket up and over them both. He left her wrapped up safely in her blanket but created a den for them both, cocooned in warmth and darkness.
"I wasted so much time," she said, and her voice broke. "So much time and money and energy looking for them. Chasing every lead. And it was all wasted. Every penny."
And she cried, shaking in his arms. All Atticus could do was hold her close and occasionally grumble something comforting about how wonderful and unique and perfect she was. It was not a reasonable cry, it didn't make sense to mourn money. But he knew the larger issue pained her, too big to be confronted, a question of identity and self-worth and connection. He wanted to give her that — she could have his name and his family and his connections, he would show her how worthy she was. How much she deserved from life. She'd earned it, a thousand times over, from what she described.
They just had to get her shifting under control.
Sophia quieted eventually and the pattern of her breathing changed, grew deeper and even as she sank into sleep. Atticus dozed as he held her close, now and then stroking her hair to remind himself he wasn't dreaming. If anything happened to her, it might kill him. He would drive her hard to learn how to shift, he would teach her every trick he knew. She had to survive. She had to.
Because if she didn't, he wouldn't last much longer.
Eight
I woke up with what felt like another hangover pounding behind my eyes. I squinted as I sat, tangled up in blankets, and searched for a clue to what happened. I was definitely naked. And Atticus snored softly next to me. Inside the cage in the library.
I put a hand to my forehead and bit back a groan. Pounding whiskey and then shifting apparently equaled a bitch of a headache and miles of regret. Atticus muttered in his sleep and rolled over, taking most of the blanket with him, and I clutched the remaining fabric to my chest.
And since the door to the cage remai
ned open...
Untangling myself took less effort than I feared, since Atticus remained deeply asleep, and I managed to slide out of the cage before I looked up and saw the watchful brother seated behind the desk. He raised his eyebrows and pointed at the chair in front of the desk.
Irritated, I secured my blanket toga and shuffled over to sit. I wanted to hate him but when he smiled, he looked like Atticus.
He offered a bottle of water and a granola bar and kept his voice down when he spoke. "They'll send up breakfast in a moment, but this will tide you over until then. Shifting takes a lot of energy."
I maneuvered to take both, though I wouldn't admit how starved I felt. "I'm not — that."
He gave me a stern look, made more imposing by the close-cropped sandy hair and a series of scars on his left cheek. "Sophia, be reasonable."
"None of this is reasonable," I said. I glanced back as Atticus grumbled, but he only flopped to his side and continued snoring. The toga slipped as I sat forward, and I flushed as the other man's gaze drifted a little too far south. "Look, dude, this isn't —"
"My name is Edgar." His hands steepled in front of his chin as he studied me. "I'm in charge of security around here. So you and I have a great deal to discuss."
"I'll be out of your hair as soon as I get some clothes." I drained half the bottle of water and used the blanket to pat my chin dry as it dribbled. "I don't want to be here any more than you want me here. Believe me."
"Why would you think I don't want you here?"
My eyebrows climbed toward my hairline as I wolfed down the granola bar. "Come on."
A smile played across his face and he looked at the cage behind me. "I admit my life would be simpler if you were not in it. But that does not mean it would be any better, and in fact, I think we would lose a great deal for not having known you."
I sat back, too stunned to form words. That was the first time I could remember someone sort of saying they were glad they knew me. My eyes prickled and I cleared my throat. "Be that as it may, I'd really rather not hang around."