by Zoe Chant
Chapter Nine
Kira
Kira pulled her jacket a little more tightly around herself. The spring air was extra nippy tonight, and her dread made her feel cold on the inside, too.
Not that the last few days had been a total waste. She allowed a small smile to blossom on her lips as she thought of Cole. True to his word, he didn't place any heavy expectations on her. She couldn't seem to keep her hands off him, though. They had gone on another date – this one more furtive so that Gunnar wouldn't realize what they were doing – and they had made love twice more. They'd had to stay at a hotel for the night, and Kira couldn't wait to get him in her own bed.
The thought of Cole's hands running all along her body and the heat of his kisses warmed her, and she was distracted enough that she didn't notice someone else's presence until he spoke.
"Kira," greeted Gunnar, and she jumped with surprise, turning. How had she ever thought she would go on a first date with him, much less a second? His voice was greasy, not smooth, and now that Cole had told her about him she could put a name to the imbalance behind his dark eyes.
She breathed deeply, the air frosting in front of her. This was all going according to plan so far, she reminded herself. She had avoided all her usual hangouts and been secretive about her whereabouts – until this evening, when she went back to her apartment like any normal night and then out to the local natural area for a hike, which she did regularly.
"Gunnar," she returned. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you." He took a step closer, loping gracefully. She could see the panther in him now. "You smell like the lions. Have you been seeing them again? I thought I told you that wasn't wise."
"I can't see what business it is of yours," she said steadily.
Gunnar's throat worked as he swallowed, clearly upset. "It's my business because you're my mate." He bit off the last word, leaning nearer so that she could see the whites of his eyes.
"I have a mate. He's not you."
That drew a snarl. "That little upstart – to think he can steal what belongs to me –"
She wasn't supposed to rile him up, but at that Kira lost it. "I don't belong to you," she protested, and the lioness in her chest protested along with her.
"I knew there was something special about you," he hissed, his dark hair wild around his face. "I knew you before he ever did."
That was apparently as much listening as Cole was going to tolerate. He burst out of the bushes to the west in his lion form, mane shaking.
He was enormous, and he radiated authority.
Gunnar changed too, becoming long and rangy, his fur black as the night. It would have been glossy, even beautiful, if he didn't look so rangy and unkempt. She could see a chunk of fur missing from his ribs, the pale skin underneath shining through, and she shuddered, wondering what had happened – or what he'd done to himself.
Still, that didn't diminish how dangerous he looked, stalking a circle around Cole while Cole remained confidently still.
She couldn't stay human here. Ducking behind a tree, Kira thought of what Cole had taught her over the last few days. This time it only took a few seconds of visualizing – the long claws, the tawny fur, the delicate nose – before she became the lioness. Immediately her vision sharpened; she saw much better in the dark like this than as a human.
Gunnar tried to provoke Cole into lashing out first. He was good at that, Cole had said, at getting under other people's skin, lighting them up so much they made a mistake or left an opening for him.
Cole wasn't going to let that happen, but that didn't stop her from worrying about her mate. Instead, they had deliberately led him out here using Kira as bait in the hopes of ending this once and for all.
Finally Gunnar's hand was forced first. He leaped at Cole with a snarl. Though he'd been sitting placidly, Cole's reflexes were tremendous; the next thing Kira saw, he was rolling with Gunnar, their great jaws snapping at each other. Even as she worried and hoped, Kira couldn't help but exult in the power and vitality on display.
She paced on the edge of the clearing, eyes trained on her mate. The two cats were circling each other warily. Kira couldn't smell any blood yet.
They met in another violent tussle, their long, wickedly sharp claws extended. They rolled over and over, a swirl of gold and black against the clearing before they separated again.
This time the sharp tang of copper filled her nose. Kira's heart raced, her blood pounding in her ears. At first she thought it was Cole: one of his paws was dripping red.
But the blood was Gunnar's she realized with relief; there were gashes on his thigh, thick and deep, that corresponded to Cole's bloody claws. He was favoring that leg.
Still, he didn't let on that it hampered him. He was a fool. He was going to get himself killed, and for what – for someone who didn't want him, someone he'd harassed and harangued –
Kira realized that in her anger she was letting out a low growl, the sound of it rumbling through her chest.
Cole's head swung toward her at the sound, and too late Kira realized her mistake. She'd distracted him.
Gunnar took the opening.
It happened in a blur of yellow and black. Cole roared, not the full, wild roar of the savannah, but an intimidating and savage one nonetheless. The muscles of the two cats stretched and tensed as they fought, Cole's huge size and strength at odds with Gunnar's lithe frame and quick speed. The leaves on the trees trembled.
Finally the figures stilled. Gunnar's spine was arched against the grassy forest floor, pinned beneath one of Cole's huge paws. Kira watched as he raised the other in the air, looking directly down at Gunnar's exposed throat –
Then, abruptly, Gunnar shifted, and the figure beneath Cole wasn't a panther but a person. Kira gave a subsonic growl. It was a calculated move, and it worked: the paw Cole had lifted into the air fell immediately, and he adjusted his weight so that he wouldn't crush Gunnar with his bulk.
Still, Gunnar wasn't exactly going anywhere. His hands grasped at Cole's immobile front leg, to no avail. He was left panting angrily into the night air.
Cole's head turned to regard her. Then he jerked his head; he wanted her to approach. She did, padding gently over to the other side of the clearing.
Cole jerked his head at her again, down to Gunnar's prone form. Even through the fear and adrenaline, Kira felt a wave of affection and tenderness. He wanted to protect her and respect her.
It only took a moment for her to change back. She crouched next to Gunnar.
"I'm not your mate," she said, with as much coldness as she could muster to discourage him. "I never will be. Cole is my mate."
Gunnar gave a wordless grimace.
"Don't ever come back here," she continued. "You're going to leave. And you're not going to come back. You won't follow women around and threaten them, stalk them, make them afraid to say 'no.' You won't come near the pride. You won't even get close enough to smell."
He hadn't stopped tearing at Cole's immobile paw, trying, uselessly, to dislodge it. "Or?" he snarled.
At his question, figures began to emerge from behind the treeline. All of them were lions. First there was Marlene, then her husband Clint, Andrea and Liam, Emi, Mason, and others . . . every adult member of the pride was there, supporting her words, defending her like she was one of their own.
One by one they advanced to Gunnar's prone form in a deadly circle. As Kira was kneeling on the ground, she felt a slight vibration under her, like the rumblings of an earthquake. But it wasn't the ground shaking; it was the whole pride, growling as one.
"Capisce?" she finished, looking him straight in the eye. She wasn't scared of him, not now.
Cole's paw nudged him, pressing down – even that little bit of his weight must have been too much for Gunnar, because he gasped hoarsely, "Fine! Yes. I'll leave. I'll leave." His face twisted in anger, and he looked at Kira like she had betrayed him. He was sick, she reminded herself.
Cole released him
, stepping back, and right away Gunnar scrambled to stand upright and brush himself off. But his attempt at bravado wasn't so effective when he was faced with more than a dozen angry, full-grown lions and lionesses.
As he walked away, all the lions watched him go, hissing and rumbling as he passed. Finally his figure was out of sight, and everyone began to transform back into their human selves.
Everyone began to leave, reassuring her that they would keep an eye – and a nose – out for any sign of Gunnar's presence. Finally Emi and Marlene came by and hugged her.
"Should we celebrate or something?" Emi suggested weakly, and Kira laughed.
"I feel exhausted and hyped up at the same time," she admitted. "I don't know if I'm up for a party."
"Next week, then," promised Emi.
A now-human Cole slipped his hand over her back, and she leaned into his touch, appreciating the comfort. The last week had sealed them together in a way she couldn't quite identify, but knew was solid and permanent. It wasn't just the attraction and sexual chemistry, though there was plenty of that, but the way they had worked together, planning and preparing and finally executing, that made her feel like she had found a true partner. He had supported her, defended her, and respected her. She couldn't dream of having a better mate, she knew.
Now all she had to do was tell him that.
When everyone was gone, and only Kira and Cole were left, she turned to him. "Do you think he's really gone?"
"For now." His expression was grim, but it softened when he looked at her. "Are you okay?"
Was she okay? She had become a lion shifter, found a mate, been stalked, and confronted her stalker – all in the span of about a week. Despite that, she smiled. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm really good. How about we go home?"
He drove her back to her apartment like a gentleman, even pausing at the door.
"Are you staying?" she asked with hesitation. "I'm exhausted, but I'd really like for you to stay."
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek. "Of course I'll stay with you."
He even tucked her into bed, kissing her on the forehead before getting in behind her and spooning her. For the first time that night she felt perfectly safe, ensconced in his strong arms with his warm weight at her back.
Epilogue
Kira
Even though she was still technically on vacation, rising early in the morning was a long-standing habit. By the time Cole's snoring had stopped, she had already made a pot of coffee and the bacon was sizzling.
"Morning, beautiful," said Cole's voice, rough, from the doorway. His hair was still fluffy from sleeping on it; as warmth bloomed in her chest, Kira knew she wanted to wake up to that stupid hair every day for the rest of her life.
"Morning, handsome," she returned. And he was. The sight of Cole in a t-shirt and boxers with morning scruff was something worth her full attention, bacon be damned. She had been about to hand him a cup of coffee, but what the hell. She set it down and crossed the kitchen, putting her hands on his chest and leaning in to give him a good morning kiss.
The good morning kiss rapidly turned into something else. At first it was just a brush of the lips, but then her mouth opened under his and he flicked his tongue at her lower lip. A fire ignited in her.
She could feel his rock-hard muscles under the soft, flimsy t-shirt. She explored them with her hands, running down his chest and over his back and – she couldn't help herself – dipping her fingers into the trail of dark hair that started under his navel.
He groaned into her ear, then sucked her earlobe between his lips. The rough texture of his tongue gave her thrills, and her lioness leaped with the opportunity to be with her mate again. But she pushed him away gently before things went any further.
"We have to talk," she said softly.
He got a concerned, wary look; she knew he was worried about their relationship.
"Cole, this past week has been . . . incredible. And incredibly fun. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much." She paused. "Violent stalker excepted."
A little smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
She took a deep breath. "But I can't be on vacation forever. And I know you're waiting for me to decide whether I can be your mate. The mate you deserve."
He opened his mouth to object, but she cut him off.
"It's not fair of me to keep treating you like a fling if you're waiting for something more." Kira took a deep breath, and her lioness urged her through the next frightening, exhilarating statement. "So I wanted to tell you . . . I'm ready to be your mate. Your lioness."
Cole's expression shifted – from surprise to relief to joy. She could tell he was expecting a completely different speech judging from his reaction, and it made the lioness in her purr.
He drew closer to her. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she said, with all the confidence she felt in her heart. "You're my mate. I think I've known it the whole time, actually. From the first time we kissed. I just didn't want to get my hopes up about something again."
His expression was fiercely protective. "I would never hurt you."
She stepped closer, drawn by his warmth. "I know. I'd never hurt you either."
He ran his hands down her arms, then back up to her face, leaving tingles in the wake of his touch. She was glowing inside, having finally told him the truth about her feelings, and stepped into his embrace easily.
She kissed him, running her tongue across his lip before licking into his mouth. He responded to the alpha in her with a groan, and his hands tightened on her before one slipped up the back of her tank top, caressing, and then dipped down to squeeze her ass. She arched against him, inviting him further.
A black, acrid smell invaded her nose when she went to take a deep breath. They broke apart. It was like burnt meat . . .
"What the –" he started, his nose wrinkling.
"The bacon," she realized, and ran to remove it from the stovetop.
Behind her he laughed, and she had to laugh too at the ridiculousness of it all.
Crisis averted. She returned to Cole, running her palms over the flat planes of his stomach. Her fingertips brushed the hem of his boxers suggestively.
"What about the bacon?" he asked innocently as she gently pushed him back into the living room, toward the couch.
"Breakfast can wait." Kira pushed down on his shoulders and he sat back, his eyes darkening with anticipation. "I have something else in mind."
That something else was already quickly hardening, curving up over his stomach. She could see the hard line of him through the fabric and ran her fingers down his cock in what she knew was a frustratingly light touch.
His hips lifted from the couch. "Kira . . ."
"Mmm?" she asked. On her next pass up she pressed harder with her fingers, especially when she got to the sensitive area under the tip. He was already panting for her.
She ducked her head, but instead of pulling the waistband down so she could touch his silky skin – and oh, she wanted to – she placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss at the base of his shaft through the fabric.
"You're cruel," he said, half a gasp.
She kept playing with him through the fabric, getting it wetter and wetter until it slid against his skin damply. Trailing kisses up his clothed cock, she licked close to the head and he shifted his hips and moaned her name.
Placing her hands on his legs to feel the tension there, she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and sucked lightly, savoring the feeling of him within her mouth even through the barrier.
Finally she decided she'd had enough fun teasing him, and tugged the waistband of his boxers down to reveal his stiff length. His cock sprang out at her, eager for her attention.
One hand cupped around his shaft, Kira swirled her tongue around the head, relishing the movement of his hips in response underneath her. She could feel her pussy growing wetter. His fingers curled around her neck, not pushing or forcing but gentle and encouraging. Sh
e took his silky flesh deeper into her mouth and sucked.
It wasn't just Cole who was reacting. Kira's nipples felt stiff and sore; absently she pinched one through the thin cloth of her tank top to feel some relief. Cole, who was watching her, gasped when he saw what she was doing, sending a lightning bolt of desire straight between her legs.
More purposefully she trailed her hand between her heavy breasts, gliding over the curve of her stomach and dipping down between her legs. She looked up at him through her lashes; his mouth was parted and he was watching avidly.
She slipped her fingertips beneath the waistband of her panties, stretching out the fabric. Cole's darkened eyes followed her movements. When she slipped one finger between her lower lips, feeling the slickness that had already gathered there, she moaned.
Kira pulled off his cock with a soft, wet pop. She gave it one last lick at the head before pumping him with her hand and leaning back to give him a better view of what she was doing.
"I'm so wet," she said, her voice a little roughened. Two of her fingers worked between her legs, brushing over her clit and making her gasp.
His head fell back against the couch. "Kira. You're killing me."
"For you," she added. Her other hand continued pumping his spit-slicked cock in rhythm. "My pussy is so ready for you." On a whim she added, "For my mate."
That did it. He couldn't take it anymore. Cole hauled her up into his lap – her weight was no obstacle. She slid her panties down her legs before stepping out of them and kneeling over his lap.
He buried his face in her neck, a steady hand at her back and one cupping the back of her head. "Want you so bad."
Kira angled the tip of his cock between her legs and rubbed it around so he could feel how wet she was. Then she guided him to her entrance, feeling him so big and hard against her.
Kira sank down on him and couldn't help a gasp. She would never get used to this, how big he was, how he filled her up so perfectly and fit so well inside her. "Cole," she whimpered, but his hands were steady, holding on to her.
"I know," he said, his own words half a gasp. "Kira. My mate."