by Andie Devaux
Like his father before him, he’d do his duty. The royal he’d tracked down with the relentlessness he was known for—Daniella—would accept him into her bed, during her heat if nothing else. Once she learned of their people, came to know them, perhaps she would be proud to continue their line.
But she didn’t have to like him.
Erick would enjoy taking her; his cock swelled even at the brief memory he had of her. And he would make sure she enjoyed being taken.
* * *
Moonlight peeked through the curtains when a heavy knock on the door rattled the apartment. Daniella was still tucked safely in his arms, fitting as if she’d been born to fit him.
Erick.
The clock radio next to the bed read three seventeen. The sun wouldn’t rise for several hours yet. He’d gotten here faster than Owen thought possible.
Another knock sounded, and Daniella stirred in his arms. She let out a small sigh and then nuzzled his neck.
He’d have liked nothing better than to wake her, slowly and languidly. Make love to her again, but this time he’d explore her. Find all the things that brought her to the edge. Figure out what made her writhe and beg and scream.
“Have to wake up now, kitten,” he murmured.
She blinked sleepily, but there was an edge behind her eyes. A need that would only grow the longer she went without breeding.
“Your prime?” She made half-hearted air quotes around the title.
“Yes.”
She pulled her robe tighter, and his resolve strengthened. The promises he had made to his prime and friend—and by extension, to his people—were important. But not as important as her. He would do anything he had to in order to protect Daniella. She was his. Just as he was undeniably hers.
But the cost to his clan could be huge. Guilt twinged in his chest. If only there was a way to keep her, yet allow for the certainty of a royal heir.
One possibility hadn’t been discussed yet—but he wasn’t sure bringing it up would do anything but push her further away. A possibility that wasn’t at all strange to his people—not even strange to him and Erick. But Daniella had been raised with humans, and something so far outside of what she’d consider normal and reasonable wasn’t something he could ask of her.
He gave her a quick kiss, hard and full of all the emotion he couldn’t express any other way in the time they had.
“You are mine,” he said, fiercely. “I will not give you up.”
She nodded, and some of the tension left her shoulders. He gave her hand a final, reassuring squeeze and went to answer the door.
It flew open just as he stepped out of the bedroom.
Erick stepped inside, filling the room with his large frame and commanding presence. However much Owen despised how he’d tried to take Daniella, he had to admit that his friend was born to rule. Every fiber of the man’s being screamed that he was to be obeyed.
Two of his best guards, Anton and Glenn, were at his heels. Owen stood his ground. From behind him, he heard Daniella stirring. Interested in seeing what the other man who wanted her looked like?
It didn’t matter. She was his now. And he would risk his life to keep her.
Erick’s gaze was hard when scanned the room. Without a word, he took a long, deep breath of air through his nose.
“You have mated her,” Erick said.
“Yes. She is mine.”
“You will fight for her.”
Owen tensed. “I will.”
Erick hesitated, but his hard expression didn’t soften. “Human form, then.”
His prime was giving him a chance. It didn’t matter that Erick was a royal and Owen was not—he could have specified tiger form. Owen’s partial shift form was powerful, but not as powerful as Erick’s full tiger. With a short nod, Owen agreed to the terms.
Erick struck.
* * *
She fell back from the doorway as Erick flew at Owen. Panic constricted her throat. Owen could handle himself, she didn’t doubt that, but his prime hadn’t come alone.
But the other men just stepped back, out of the way as the men sparred.
Erick got in the first strike, but Owen danced away from the next punch. Then he darted to one side and swung at Erick while his side was open. Erick’s expression didn’t reveal any pain.
She almost couldn’t follow their movements; they were that quick. Like the tigers Owen said shared their blood, they moved with a fierce grace.
They rarely hit one another, but the times they did were leaving their mark. Less than a minute of their eerily wordless sparring, blood and scrapes covered both of their faces, and she could only imagine what their ribs would look like when the bruises started to show. A crash when Owen landed on the coffee table. A loud thump when Owen threw Erick into his wall, leaving behind a large hole. But the only sound coming from them men was the occasional grunt when one got in a good hit. The sweet smell of sweat tinged with blood touched her nose.
How long would it go on? How long would Owen have to fight for her?
Her stomach churned at the thought. All of this was, in a weird way, her fault.
“Stop it!” she shouted.
Both men slowed, no longer striking, but not looking at her, either.
“This is so stupid. It doesn’t even matter who wins.”
That got their attention. Owen turned slightly to stare at her, careful to keep the other man in his peripheral vision.
“What is she talking about?” Erick ground out.
“Don’t ask him, asshole. I’m standing right here.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew poking the tiger wasn’t the best idea. The man was obviously violent, and even though he wasn’t as physically imposing as Owen—he was tall, but not quite so muscular—Erick made her gut clench in fear in a way that Owen never had. Somehow she knew, instinctively, that under normal circumstances, Erick was the more dangerous of the two.
But she was feeling pretty violent herself. Whatever ancient machismo BS they were engaged in—well, she wasn’t the shut up and do whatever the men tell her to type. Their fight had the seriousness of a death match, and she wasn’t about to find out definitively how it would end. Not if she could do something about it.
Finally, Erick’s gaze slid to her. A quick glance at the fang marks in her neck, and then his intense eyes were locked on hers. “What are you talking about, woman?”
She didn’t roll her eyes, but it was a close call. The man was ruggedly handsome, and quite honestly one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen close up—just like Owen, yet so different. He was a bit more grizzled—in a wild man sort of way—and a couple of years older. Charcoal hair brushed his neck. A Calvin Klein model would be thankful to be blessed with Erick’s face. Yeah, he was pretty, however much that was worth. He was lucky for it because he’d never win any women with his charm.
“I’ve made my choice. I choose Owen. I don’t care who wins this fight. I’m going—staying—home with him.”
“This is a fight to the death,” Erick told her, grimly. “You will go home with whomever wins.”
“Wow. What year do you think this is? I will be with the man I choose, and it isn’t you, buddy. I go home with him or nobody.”
The smile he flashed her held no humor. “In another hour, the heat will hit and you will go home with any tiger who offers.”
She returned his smile with every bit of coldness she could summon. And considering his attitude, it was a lot. “You might get the chance to fuck me while I’m in heat, I’ll give you that. But you just wait. The first time you fall asleep or let your guard down, I will make you pay for his death. Can you still be king of the weretigers, or whatever the hell you are, gelded?”
Erick blinked. Hah! Apparently, even the big, bad prime of the tigers could be surprised.
One of the men behind him made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. But Owen refused to meet her gaze. He didn’t look happy. Damn. She’d made a wrong move. How was she supposed to k
now what the rules were? Besides, she wasn’t the type to sit around and knit while he fought their battles.
He should already know that.
“You would do no such thing. It is not honorable. That’s the sort of honorless fighting vampires engage in. We do not.” He stood proudly, as if his argument would hold water for her.
She shrugged, hoping she appeared far more nonchalant than she felt. Not that her appearance probably mattered to a guy who could smell the fear on her. “I’m not really into the honor thing. I was raised by humans, remember? I’m more about the sneaky vengeance.”
“Do you allow your woman to fight your battles?” Erick said, turning his gaze to his friend.
“No. We will finish this fight.” Owen glanced at her. “I will kill him for you.”
“Do whatever floats your boat, buddy. But don’t lay it on me. I don’t need your friend’s blood on your hands. And killing him isn’t going to turn me on. It sounds like a good way to send me packing, actually.” She frowned, and added, “After this heat thing passes, anyway.”
Erick’s frown deepened. “She is a most unusual female.”
“She was raised among humans.” Owen’s posture straightened, some of the tension leaving his hard frame. “She is a warrior in her own right.”
The unmistakable pride in his voice made her heart swell, even though she didn’t exactly think she qualified as a warrior. “Look, whatever. Isn’t there some kind of non-bloody compromise we could come to here? Because—no offense— you’re…” Extremely sexy but also super scary looking. “…A good looking guy and all, but I don’t even know you.”
“You don’t need to know me. Your tiger will recognize the dominance in mine.”
“Sorry. Not enough for me, pal.”
Erick’s gaze moved to Owen, and they shared a long look. Were weretigers telepathic or something? That seemed unlikely. But an idea was being exchanged, even if it was simply being communicated silently by men who knew each other well. She was certain that whatever compromise they suggested wasn’t something she was going to like.
Owen nodded at his friend, and Erick turned his attention to her. Her guts twisted tighter.
“Unlike some of our kind, I am not weak.” Erick didn’t look at Owen, but his meaning was clear, and if she’d actually had tiger fur, it would have bristled. “I do not require a female more often than her heat beckons. For the good of my people, I would be willing to share you with my second, claiming you only when your heat crests, and you are at your most fertile.”
“What the hell? You want to use me as some sort of broodmare? Breed me like an animal?” And what was his second? Did that mean Owen was the one in charge if something happened to Erick? Because she wouldn’t have minded something violent happening to the arrogant man in that moment. Like she was going to bend over and let this stranger breed her like an animal. An image of exactly that flashed in her mind, and she swallowed hard. No way. That was not turning her on. No matter what her body thought.
Something in his expression changed, but he covered the emotion so quickly she couldn’t identify it. “We’re not animals. But we are in danger of extinction. I will share you for the sake of my people. I’m not asking for a relationship,” he said, spitting out the last word as though it tasted bad. “I’m asking you to help preserve your clan.”
Owen shifted on his feet behind his prime, and she turned her gaze to him, swallowing the angry words she wanted to lob at his friend. But Owen didn’t look pissed, he looked…uncomfortable.
“You want me to do it!” She gaped at him. What the hell had just changed? How on earth could he even think of sharing her? Didn’t he care about her at all?
“No.” He approached and tried to take her hands in his, but she stepped back. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to share you. But what he’s saying his true. Our clan needs a royal line to lead it. They need the power that comes with it to stay together. Without a royal heir…”
“What?”
A darkness passed behind his gaze. “The clan will be no more. One way or another. Our generation will likely be the last without you.”
This was too much. They were asking for her to sacrifice her…what? Her morals? Her freedom? For what? People she didn’t know. “So find another broodmare!”
Erick laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “If it were that easy, do you think I’d really be trying so hard to get into your bed?”
Outrage ran through her, and just a tiny thread of hurt—silly, since she didn’t know this man, so why would she expect him to want her? Then his words sank in. “How rare, exactly, are we?”
“Female royals are extremely rare. So rare, clans will fight for them. And they become rarer all the time.”
“Rarer all the—what the hell does that ominous shit mean?”
Owen closed the distance between them and touched her shoulder, no doubt trying to comfort her, but the simple touch ran through her body like fire.
“Shit,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself and stepping back. No matter what her body said, she was so not in the mood for sex right now.
“The heat is rising again,” Erick said. Then he moved forward, too. The men were too big, too overwhelming with both of them close-up, and her heat itched under her skin. Erick reached under her chin and tipped her head up so her eyes would meet his. “A decision must be made. You need only take my seed once, maybe twice a year—after this first heat ends.”
“What do you mean? After this year?” Her concentration slipped, and she found herself leaning into his slight touch. God, the man so wasn’t her type. Neither of them were. Too big. Too scary. Too everything. But in that moment, she had to stop herself from reaching for him, from crawling all over him.
“The first year or so, a female is very fertile. And the heat can remain, and arise, quickly. It makes pregnancy very likely. It’s a biological necessity for our people. We are not especially fertile.” His eyes were green, but he shared one trait with Owen—flecks of amber when the light hit them right. But they carried none of the kindness she saw in Owen’s—only something hard and cruel. Would his eyes turn more amber when he got riled up? “Our children would be prized. Cared for. They’d want for nothing.” His hand slid from her chin to cup her face.
Desire rolled under her skin, and she forced in a deep breath, unfortunately inhaling a tantalizing, masculine scent. So unique—similar to Owen, yes, but different. The temptation this man brought—she could never have imagined the lust a stranger could elicit. It must be the heat. Had to be. No way did she really want this man, this stranger.
She had to be logical about this.
“No.”
His hand fell from her cheek. “You refuse me?”
“No—I mean, yes. Sorry, but this is just too weird. And I can’t…I mean, I won’t.” The desire to give into him was difficult to breathe around. Knowing that not only did she have Owen’s permission, but also his encouragement, made the idea difficult to resist. But there was too much going on. Too much weird shit in a very short amount of time.
“Very well.” Erick didn’t reveal anything on his stony, handsome face. Was he disappointed? Why did she care? She didn’t know him or his clan. Worrying about herself was the best she could manage right now. “It was interesting, meeting you.”
Her stomach twisted in a curious mixture of fear and triumph, lust and need. Disappointment. And she opened her mouth to ask him to stay, to fuck her senseless, before snapping it closed. Damn heat.
“Would you like Anton to remain with you?” Erick asked Owen.
“We’ll be fine. I’ve sensed nothing since I got here, and we’ll follow you soon.” Owen gave her an apologetic shrug, then added, “Besides, we’d rather be alone.”
One of the men—Anton maybe?—grunted a small laugh.
“That’s not wise.”
Owen’s face hardened. “Give her—give us—some time. Crowding her with tigers isn’t going to make this easier. One n
ight. That’s all I ask. We’ll return to the territory tomorrow.”
Erick looked like he wanted to argue—his body tense and his face matching Owen’s stubborn glare. But, jaw tight, he gave Owen a short nod. “Fine. Tomorrow.”
The warning didn’t pass his lips, but she was pretty darn sure Erick would be back to get them if they didn’t show. The man could insinuate more with a look than most people could get across in full sentences. A product of his upbringing? What kind of life would a rare royal live among their kind?
“Give us a minute,” Erick said. When Owen hesitated, he grunted. “Do you fear I’ll molest her if you let her out of your sight for a moment?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
A small quirk touched Erick’s mouth and Owen fought a grin. Suddenly, she could see the camaraderie between them. What would her decision cost Owen? His friendship with Erick? His position within the clan?
“I swear I will not hurt her nor fuck her if you give us a moment alone,” Erick deadpanned.
Owen snorted and turned to her. “You’ll be okay?”
“No. I’m a delicate flower that must be protected constantly lest I wither and die.” Hah! Take that. She could be just as sarcastic as these two.
At that, Owen chuckled. He gave Erick a look which seemed to say “good luck”, then headed out of the apartment with the other two men. Erick waited, listening, before turning back to her.
When light green eyes caught hers, it was like being hit in the gut. She found herself suddenly breathless. Damn, the man was sexy.
“What did you want to talk about?” she said, her voice clearly nervous even to her own ears. There was no reason to be nervous—they’d won, right? But for some reason, it felt a little too easy. Too pat. Finally, it hit her why.
Erick wasn’t acting like a man who’d lost.
With one long stride, he’d again closed the distance between them. She gasped at his sudden nearness, and her foot slid back as if of its own free will. But she stopped there. She wasn’t running from this man—this predator.
No doubt he would chase her.