by A. C. Arthur
Without knowing exactly where he was going he moved through the hallways of the H-shaped structure, passing other guards who looked on with concern, cutting around the corner that separated the dining hall and training facilities from the guard quarters. His cat was chuffing now, announcing its arrival, which it never did. Jaguars stalked their prey, watched and circled until it was time to pounce. This was different, he wasn’t hunting, he was avenging.
Nivea’s face appeared clearly in his mind, her eyes wide with fear, mouth opened to scream but no sound coming out. Eli ran faster until stopping in front of a door. Taking a step back he kicked the steel-lined door with all his might. It creaked, then buckled, and his shoulder slamming into it next did the rest.
When his eyes focused on the room, on who was in it and what was going on, he knew he had to continue to react now, and think about the consequences later. He pounced on the back of the man, his sharp teeth biting down into the back of his neck. He pulled back, yanking his prey off the bed, pulling him to the floor.
“Eli! No! No!” she yelled.
Her voice was familiar, rubbing along the spine of his cat until it trembled. But it wasn’t enough. He shook his head, tossing the man caught in the grip of his strong jaws and sharp teeth from side to side.
“He’s not worth it, Eli,” Nivea continued. “He’s just not worth it.”
There was only darkness, only the heavy cloak of black and anger, pain, and despair. He wanted to stop that, wanted to put an end to the pain and the abuse that he now knew she had suffered. In his mind’s eye he could see it clearly, could piece together Nivea’s reluctance to go home to her family in New York, to even talk about them. This man was her father, the blood seeping into Eli’s mouth was kin to his mate. With a stinging burn at the base of his spine, that word settled over him and Eli released his hold on the man, tossing his head back as he roared in the deepest despair he’d ever experienced in his life.
“It’s okay,” she was saying now. “Just let him go, Eli. It’s better if he just goes.”
Eli heard her words, had heard everything she’d said since barging into the room. Only now, her voice sounded different. Sad, no, desolate maybe. He didn’t look at her because he knew there was no way he could do what she’d just suggested, no matter how much he wanted to give her whatever she needed to make her sound happy again. Even if she were cussing at him, pressing adamantly against his authority as she did so often, anything but what he was hearing in her voice right now.
Taking another heaving breath, he moved to stand in front of the door just in case the asshole who now had blood running down his back got the sick notion in his head to run.
Eli dug into his pocket, pressing numbers quickly into his phone.
“Yeah. I need you down in Nivea’s room right now. Bring some cuffs and shackles, and another guard with you. We’ve got a prisoner.”
Disconnecting the call, Eli ignored the burn at the base of his spine that said the cat still wanted to break free. It recognized the scent of another shifter—the one lying on his stomach across from him—and one who had been in contact with rogues. The rogue scent could have been left over from the crazy as hell run-in he’d just watched Rome and Kalina experience with Bianca. But Eli was betting it was the cat across the room struggling to breathe that had recently been with a rogue shifter. His body moving with uneven breaths, the coward refused to stand. He wouldn’t get up to face Eli head-on like a man. No, he’d rather pick on a female. He’d thought he could pick on Nivea.
The older man had no idea how stupid a move that had been. There was nothing Eli wouldn’t do for this female. Absolutely nothing, he thought as he turned his attention to her, wanting to ensure that she was all right. He hadn’t anticipated anything less from Nivea, was actually counting on the superior strength this female shifter had that rivaled her other counterparts. But he’d been wrong, and the sight of her curled into a fetal position in a far corner of the room had rage boiling deep inside his gut once more.
Chapter 13
This was ridiculous.
This was not her.
She did not cry or give in or succumb.
She was stronger than this, had been for the last ten years. Nothing could get her back to that place in her life when everything had seemed so bleak and all that she’d believed in had crumbled so completely. Absolutely nothing.
Except him.
His hands had been on her again, rubbing along the bare skin of her arms, touching the curve of her hip. He’d pressed his body into hers and she’d felt everything about him, from the buckle of his pants to the sickening erection, even so deep as the vile blood running through his veins. She was nauseous, her stomach roiling at the mere memory and she curled up even tighter. Wondering if somehow she could be that fetus again, the unsuspecting and unknowing creature that had yet to breathe the same air as the asshole who had helped to create her.
A shower would rid her of the disgust, of the tainting marks that had to be left on her after he was finished. The signs that everyone would see how defiled she’d been. But it never worked. After hours beneath a stinging hot spray she’d still felt the touch of his fingers, his lips, and his tongue. She’d felt it and had been repulsed each and every time. It was a wonder she’d been able to be intimate with anyone else, with memories like that bouncing around in her head.
But that was because of her strength, because the jaguar living and breathing inside of her would not surrender.
Nivea reached for that strength, she called out to her cat, to save her, to bring her back. The fact that she hadn’t moved, her body still huddled tight in this corner said the call had fallen on deaf ears.
Then there was another touch. It was warm and comforting, so she didn’t bother to fight against it. She was being lifted, her entire body feeling light and trouble-free. They were moving, she and whoever carried her, to where she had no idea. She had no strength to question or even wonder. Her head lolled forward, the left side of her face resting against a muscled chest, eyes remaining closed, having seen far too much today.
She breathed in his scent, let it filter through her body like salve against an open wound. She hissed at first, then settled into the feeling of safety, and of home.
His voice still sounded in her head.
“You wanted it, Nivea,” he father had told her. “Just like you want it now. You’re not getting the attention you want…”
But this wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t how Nivea wanted to feel, how she wanted to live her life. Who in their right mind wanted their father touching them intimately with his hands and his mouth, doing things to them that at nine and ten years old nobody should be doing? That hadn’t been her request, hadn’t been her intention when she’d achieved good grades in school or performed well at a sport. She had never looked for that type of attention from him and she would not let him blame her!
“It’s not my fault!” she screamed out, just seconds after hearing a door click softly closed behind her. “It’s not!”
“No, it’s not,” Eli whispered quietly against the top of her head. “It’s not your fault, baby.”
Nivea kept her eyes closed. It was the only way to stop the tears. “It’s his fault,” she continued, her chest heaving with the effort of each word. “He’s the one that’s deficient, not me. He’s sick and he’s wrong and I’m, I’m just … his … victim.” The last word came out in a whisper, yet it still burned her throat to say.
“You are not his,” Eli replied vehemently. “Not one part of you belongs to him and I’ll be damned if he touches you ever again.”
His voice held only the slightest semblance of control, his arms tightening around her as he spoke them. Nivea couldn’t help it, she tilted her head back and looked up at him then. That muscle in his jaw was twitching, his lips held tight. She couldn’t see his eyes because of his shades and without thought, she reached up and pulled them off. He didn’t resist, did not complain, simply looked down at her. And
she was lost.
Eli had the stormiest green eyes she’d ever seen. In them was all the turmoil and intensity that came with this man and beast. There had never been a time that she’d seen them and not felt the power of all that was inside him.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “I do not belong to him.”
They sat on Eli’s bed now, while he cradled her in his lap. A couple of hours ago, or maybe even yesterday, she might have thought this the most insane position. She would never have relinquished enough of herself to sit in his arms this way, to have him hold her as if she were his child to protect. But right now, hell, it felt damned good to have been protected, at least one time, from her father.
She took a deep breath, wondering for an instant if what she was about to do was a mistake or not. Instinct told her it wasn’t. For so long she’d known there was something different about Eli, something that existed only between the two of them. And while he’d yet to accept it, she had vowed not to run away from it, from him. So her words, which she was trying to consider carefully, were going to come, no matter the repercussions.
“It started when I was nine. I’d just finished my first piano recital and I was so excited that I’d received a standing ovation. Amina, that’s my oldest sister, she didn’t like the piano, but she loved the pretty pink dress she’d had to wear to the formal affair. Serene is my other sister, she’s older too and she was just happy that it was me playing the piano and not her. Reading was her thing. She lost herself in all those books she had. But me, I liked to shine.”
Nivea could admit that because it wasn’t a bad thing. She’d done good work in her life and there was nothing wrong with being proud of it. No matter what he’d said.
Eli pushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it softly behind her ear.
“I was in my bedroom, getting ready for bed, when I heard the door open. I thought it was Amina because she was always sent to check on me. There were so many things my oldest sister did that my mother probably should have been doing.” Nivea sighed. “But it wasn’t Mina. It was my father. He congratulated me for doing such a wonderful job and for being his star daughter. He was so proud of me, so happy for me.”
She shivered with the memory.
“All the while he talked his hand rubbed over my bare shoulder. I’d already taken off my dress and now wore just my slip and my tights. I didn’t like how his hand felt on my shoulder, but I didn’t move because he hated having to tell me things twice. Always yelled that I was the most hardheaded of his daughters.”
Eli had gone completely still. Nivea didn’t look up at his face again, just kept staring off at nothing in particular. But she could feel how rigid he was even though his arms stayed wrapped around her. His anger was palpable and she hated that with each word she said, it continued to heighten. All she knew was that she had to get this out now, or she’d never be able to tell him. How would they build a future with something like this between them?
“He touched my shoulders then, and eventually removed the slip from my body. It seems he was right about one thing, I was his most stubborn and hard-to-control daughter. I questioned everything he was doing. I even told him I was pretty sure it was wrong. But he didn’t stop, not until I was naked. He touched me everywhere that night just with his hands, and then told me to go to bed.”
“Stop,” Eli said then, touching a finger to her lips. “Just stop before I leave this room to find where he is and break his fucking neck.”
Nivea shook her head. “You don’t understand,” she mumbled over his fingers, until she finally lifted her hand to move them. “I knew it was wrong but I let him do it because he said if I did he wouldn’t touch Amina and Serene. For years I accepted that as the excuse to endure all that nastiness. Then when I was older, when I turned seventeen, I found the files. I saw the tattoo and I knew I had him. I could make him stop, I could keep him from touching my sisters, I could get out, and I did. I confronted him about the papers I’d found in his office and threatened to go straight to the Elders if he didn’t let me go. I’d tried running away before but they always found me and when they did it … he … was worse.” She paused, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “I made him promise to let me go and not come after me and to not touch my sisters because I knew they would never leave. He wanted my word that I would never speak of those papers or tell my sisters what had happened. I knew it was making a deal with the devil, but I didn’t think I had any other choice. I had to get out of there and I did. Eli, I got out and I healed and I’m not a victim anymore.”
“I never thought you were a victim,” he told her earnestly. “You’re the strongest, most sensible shifter I know. Never in my wildest dreams would the word victim be associated with you.”
And just like that, all the pain and misery Nivea had endured all those years of her childhood slipped away. She’d had other men in her life. It had been a part of her personal therapy, to become comfortable around men, to be able to talk to them and allow them to touch her, when she gave permission only. And she’d passed that test with flying colors, her hatred for her father seeming to give her even more strength to move forward. The knowledge that her sisters would forever be safe from his touch was even more of a reward. But Eli was different. Everything about him, right down to the way she’d finally ended up in his bed, was different and uncalculated and unplanned. She’d wanted him, yes, but she had no misconceptions about the fact that when they came together it would be because Eli made it happen. His concession had always been important to her, and now his honesty had released the grip around her heart.
Nivea let go of the breath that felt as if she’d been holding it forever. She stared down at her hands in her lap, then up at Eli.
“He thinks I told Rome and Nick about what he’s doing. I promised I wouldn’t. And he promised never to touch my sisters.”
“They’re adults now,” Eli countered.
“But they’re still under his thumb, still within his reach and I just don’t trust him.”
“What about your mother?”
She sucked in another breath. “She’s so brainwashed by him. She’ll never leave or betray him. Not even for her own child.”
Eli did something else that shocked her, as if she hadn’t experienced enough surprises for one day. He touched his fingers softly to the line of her jaw, tracing all the way around, then going slowly down her neck. It was a butterfly-soft touch that immediately silenced her words, but ramped up the beat of her heart.
“You’re so much more than I ever expected,” he told her. “Probably more than they anticipated as well.”
Nivea didn’t know what to say to that and she didn’t know what to do. The cat inside, however, knew what it wanted. It seemed to communicate with Eli’s cat because his eyes shot up to hers in that moment, changing from their human green to cat gold. Heat immediately circled around them, wrapping them in the sweetest embrace she could have ever imagined.
In that moment Nivea decided not to wait. She leaned into him, lowering her lids just a bit as she stared down at his mouth. He lunged before she could complete her mission, his lips crashing against hers. Their tongues touched instantly, circling in an age-old dance that never ceased to get her blood pumping. He had a hand to her back and the one still at her neck, pulling her closer as he practically devoured her.
Nivea arched into his embrace, loving the feeling of his power raining over her. She felt like she was about to be taken, but liberated at the same time. The anticipation was too strong, her heart pounding mercilessly in her chest, her pussy throbbing with expectation. She wrapped her arms around his neck, immediately pulling him closer, opening her mouth wider to him. When his hand slid down lower to cup her breast, squeezing until she arched and gasped, Nivea’s entire world shifted.
Feeling as if she were caught in a funnel, breathless and air bound, Nivea wondered what would happen when she landed. Would she confess her love to this shifter, putting herself and her hear
t on the line for him to do with as he pleased, or would she somehow keep the control she’d worked so hard to maintain?
Questions dissipated when he dragged his mouth from hers to clamp down on her nipple, his tongue soaking through the T-shirt and bra she wore. Her head fell back as she gave him all the access he wanted. Sharp teeth ripped at the shirt until it was in shreds, hanging off her arms. The bra snapped, the sound echoing throughout the room alongside that of Eli’s muffled growl. It all seemed so fast and so fevered, but he wasn’t rushing as his tongue lathed over her bared skin, flattening over her nipple, then licking up and down the curve of each breast.
She wanted to scream out his name, to declare that every part of her belonged to him, but Nivea held firm. She gasped and quivered in his arms but she did not speak, did not believe that she could just yet.
“I can’t get enough,” she heard him mumble. “I’m never going to get enough of you.”
His tone sounded troubled as if his words were true, but he hated that it was so. Nivea didn’t hate it. She loved hearing those words, loved knowing that he was drowning in all that was between them the same as she was.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she admitted, her own sharpened teeth biting into her lip before she gasped again. “I’m right here with you, Eli.”
He seemed to ignore her words, otherwise preoccupied with sucking as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. The feeling sent a rush of desire shooting straight to her pussy. Dampness filled her pants and she squirmed, letting the crotch of her underwear and the mission blues she still wore rub against her aching clit.
Still holding her tightly at the back, Eli used his other hand to rip the belt and buckle of her pants free. A part of her thought she’d be visiting the commissary for a replacement uniform in the morning, but she just didn’t give a damn. Instead, she opened her legs in anticipation of his touch, which came almost instantaneously. He yanked at the thin wisp of cloth that served as underwear, tossing the material aside.