by Vivi Andrews
She couldn’t stay in the shower long. The spray was almost painful, her skin felt so raw.
It wasn’t until later, until she was in bed, bundled up in the spare pajamas she kept here, edgy and twisting and right on the border of falling asleep—please God, let her get some sleep and escape this feeling for a few hours—when dreams and memories and waking thoughts all merged into a mess of the possible and impossible that she remembered when the first time she’d smelled that scent was—and the recollection catapulted her to instant, shuddering wakefulness.
The day her parents disappeared.
That wrong, slightly medicinal scent that had saturated her home in their place. It was that scent that had felt like a violation, that scent that had confirmed their disappearance was no accident. That scent that had haunted her as she’d made her way, by herself, to the lion pride her parents had always told her would be her last resort if anything happened to them.
But then over the years, she’d forgotten it. Wrapped in the security of the pride, she’d buried the wrongness of that smell deep inside. The Alpha had sent someone to investigate the disappearance, but by the time the tracker had arrived, the trail had been cold. She’d never had another hint of what might have happened to her parents, never smelled that sour-sweet tang again.
Until today.
Patch lay in her bed, incapable of sleep now, and resolved that she would go on that hunting party. She would track that bird shifter back to the source of that drug. She would find out what had happened to her parents, once and for all. She owed them that.
She didn’t sleep for hours, her mind as wild and restless as her body.
Chapter Ten
Roman hadn’t slept a goddamn second. Guilt was better than a triple shot of espresso. Not to mention the fucking cockstand that had refused to go away, even after a cold shower and taking matters into his own hands.
He couldn’t seem to stop reliving that kiss. That extremely wrong kiss that should never have happened. Which was also the hottest goddamn five minutes of his entire fucking life.
He’d liked it too much. Way too much. He’d wanted her with a compulsion that was inhuman, blindly animalistic. Sure, he was a shifter, but he’d never been as much of a mindless beast as he had been in that moment, with her subtle, lean curves beneath his hands and her taste on his tongue. The only thing he’d wanted was more. He wouldn’t have stopped—not if he hadn’t scented the flash of fear in her. He would have taken her right there in the clearing.
Patch.
His fiancé’s best friend.
Shit.
Roman scrubbed a hand across his face as he stalked across the pride complex toward the infirmary, each second of the night before replaying in his brain.
Talk about mixed signals. One second she was going after him because he was doing a shitty job of wooing Lila, and the next she was wrapped around him, making those insanely hot little noises as lust detonated between them. What the hell was that?
The heat. It was just the heat. It had to be the heat. No one had natural chemistry that intense.
He’d been around other females who were giving off hormone roofies—growing up in a pride, it was impossible to avoid, and the Alpha of the pride where he’d lived through puberty had even used forced exposure to the pheromones as a punishment on occasion—but he’d always been able to control himself in the past.
Maybe cougars were different. Their scents more potent.
Or maybe he was just particularly susceptible to her unique hormone cocktail. Whatever the case, there was a simple solution. He would avoid her until her body chemistry was back under control.
And until he could remember the feel of her body writhing against his without going half-hard. God, she’d been tight, her body sleek and compact. Would she be as tight around him? Squeezing, gripping, hot and slick…
Roman paused outside the infirmary door, taking a deep breath of the early morning air, and waiting for the iron spike in his pants to calm the fuck down.
It was barely past dawn. He’d given up on sleep just after five, taken a second cold shower, and headed over to check in on the bird shifter. He wanted to be the first one to hear the man’s story and once the day got going, there would be too many demands on Roman’s time, too many little crises as they were moving all the outliers into pride housing.
His body back under control, he reached for the door, but it opened before he could touch the handle. The door swung toward him and the Alpha stepped out, looking rested and alert for the crack of dawn, always three steps ahead.
“Greg.”
“Roman. Coming to check on our invalid?”
“Has he woken up?”
“Not yet.” The Alpha started toward his office, gesturing for Roman to fall in beside him. “The doc will alert us as soon as he’s conscious, but it sounds like it could be hours, or even days. Apparently, whatever they pumped him full of is playing hell with his body chemistry.”
Roman stuffed down the impatience that wanted to rise up. He didn’t like all this wait-and-see. He wanted to know who had drugged the bird. He wanted to speak to the Texas shifters now, not in a month or two when they finally made it up here. He wanted more than rumors and hearsay. He wanted hard data and a clear villain to go rip the throat out of. He could be patient in a hunt, but this not being able to see his enemy business was rubbing his fur wrong.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” Greg continued as they started up the hill toward the main house where the Alpha had his home and office. “Things have been so busy lately we never really had a chance to talk about the Lila situation.”
Roman felt the muscles across his shoulders jump into instant knots. “Sir?”
“Don’t sir me, Roman. I know neither of you are particularly thrilled with the situation.”
Neither of you. Maybe Patch was right and Lila wasn’t as vacantly pleased with the marriage as he’d thought—or rather as he’d wanted to believe because it made his life easier if he didn’t have to worry about her happiness. He really had been quite the asshole on that front. “I’ll do better,” he promised. “I’ll be good to her.”
“I know you will. Or at least you’ll try.”
Roman was too sleep deprived to parse through the layers of whatever Greg was trying to tell him. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”
“There are a lot of beautiful females in this pride. You might be tempted…”
Patch’s face flashed through his mind and he felt his cheeks flush like he was a pubescent kid. Christ. Did the Alpha know? “Sir?”
If it had been anyone else, Roman would have ended the conversation and walked away. He didn’t talk about his feelings—or whatever they were about to talk about—but this was the Alpha. Greg. The man to whom he owed a debt he would never be able to repay. So he gritted his teeth through the awkwardness and listened.
“For an Alpha, fidelity isn’t just about your marriage, it’s about the strength of the pride. A mistress—no matter how discreet you are—is a crack in the foundations of everything we’ve built. It undermines Lila and spreads your loyalties too thin.”
“Lila will always have my loyalty.”
“The pride is your first loyalty. And Lila’s too. That’s why I know you two will make this work. And I know right now you think you’ll always be faithful to her, but this is a lifetime commitment and some day down the road it might not be so easy.”
“I know what I’m doing. Like you said, the pride is my first priority. That isn’t going to change.” He’d slipped last night. It wouldn’t happen again.
“I know that, son. But I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
Roman stopped at the base of the steps leading up to the Alpha’s front door. “Greg, what are you trying to say?”
The Alpha paused as well, clapping him on the shoulder. “If you want to take a trip for a few days, sow some wild oats, get whatever you need to out of your system, we can arrange that.”
“It’s the only time. Once you’re married, running off to scratch an itch won’t be an option anymore. I tried to give you both time to enjoy being young, but with things the way they are, well, you understand, the wedding needs to take place soon. I just don’t want you to look back on this with regrets.”
“Do you have regrets, sir?”
“Not one.”
Roman met his eyes without flinching. “Neither will I.”
And he didn’t need a Vegas vacation to prove that to himself. He was the future Alpha to his core. Defender of the pride. Steward of his people. Lila was part of that package. He’d always known that. No regrets. No second thoughts.
Not even about sleek little cougars who pushed him and drew him in in equal measures.
Roman left the Alpha on the front steps of the house he would one day inherit and loped down the hill to meet the first wave of outliers.
There were a million things to do and everyone had questions—which housing options were best for which species, which units were claimed already, who was going to help the elderly lynx couple who weren’t as strong as they used to be move all their heavy mahogany furniture. Some shifters were bringing only the bare essentials—as if by leaving most of their possessions behind, they would somehow be able to return to them sooner—while others were moving every last knick-knack and jar of peanut butter in the pantry in an attempt to make their new houses into real homes for the duration.
Roman threw himself into helping so he wouldn’t have to think about the fact that his mentor had offered to send him off on a stag weekend to get laid. Or the fact that the only person he really wanted to make dirty, have-no-regrets memories with was right here on the pride lands.
It almost worked.
He only thought about the awkward conversation with the Alpha a couple times. And he only thought of Patch every time the wind shifted and he realized he was tipping his face up to it in an attempt to catch a hint of her scent.
It shouldn’t have been her. It should have been Lila he kissed. Lila, he was subconsciously searching for. Maybe when Lila went into heat…
The thought seemed to stop right there. Ground to a halt. He couldn’t think of Lila that way.
Which was a major problem. They were going to get married. He needed to think of Lila that way. A marriage in name only wouldn’t work in the pride. The shifters were too sensual, too physical. They wouldn’t trust a cold alliance. So it had to be more than a cold alliance.
Fuck. He really needed to woo Lila.
Hours later, when he’d finally gotten the lynx couple settled and was standing on their new front porch with them, adjusting the rocker for the fifteenth time, a tawny streak of fur caught the corner of his vision. He turned his head to follow the familiar lithe lioness form.
Woo her.
“Lila.”
At his call, she turned abruptly, darting toward the near side of the crowded walkway. He came to the porch railing closest to her, conscious of the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes watching him interact with his fiancé.
“Come by my office later—” Too commanding, dumbass. She isn’t your servant. Damned if his internal voice didn’t sound annoyingly like Patch. He amended, “—if you would. We should talk.”
The lioness bowed her head in a feline nod and twisted, bounding off into the crowd.
She really was very graceful. Capable. Able to get along with absolutely everyone. Sure, if he’d designed the Alpha’s mate he would have picked someone who was strong and clever and fierce before he chose sweet and gentle and covered in ruffles, but maybe that made her the perfect foil for him.
She would be an excellent Alpha’s mate. He just needed to wrap his head around the fact that she would also be his mate.
Chapter Eleven
Patch scrambled up the steps of Lila’s building, moving quickly so she wouldn’t be tempted to retreat. Running off and hiding in the wilderness sounded like a brilliant idea on multiple levels this morning.
If she was at her cabin, she wouldn’t have to tell her best friend that she’d kissed said best friend’s fiancé last night. She wouldn’t have to be around crowds of shifters when her skin already felt tight and itchy at the thought of anyone invading her space. And she wouldn’t have to worry about her heat flaring up and urging her to jump one of those shifters—particularly a big, muscle-bound lion she should not have woken up fantasizing about.
It had taken her hours to get to sleep last night and then she’d woken up what felt like mere minutes later with her blood on fire and visions of Roman prowling through her head. If she’d thought her infatuation was bad before, now that it had some real life memories to work with it was a thousand times worse. Add to that the spikes of achy, empty need that came with the heat and it had been a very unpleasant morning. Nothing seemed to ease the ache. When she had slipped her hand between her thighs and worked herself to release, the relief had been short-lived, the need returning even worse than before.
The heat had finally eased its grip on her half an hour ago, retreating into a slow burning ember rather than an open raging flame, and she’d immediately showered, dressed and set out to find Lila. No telling how much time she had before the goddamn hormones spiked into the red zone again.
At the top of the stairs, she strode quickly to Lila’s door and knocked before she could lose her gumption.
Nothing.
She knocked again, louder, but she could already tell Lila wasn’t here—no scent, no scuffling movement on the other side of the door. Which left what? Prowling all over the pride lands looking for her, all the while knowing the heat could kick up at any moment? No, thank you.
Maybe it was a sign she should seek out Roman. She needed to tell him about the strange scent in the mountains. She could see him without mounting him like a cowgirl looking for a nice long ride. Maybe. Provided the heat didn’t crawl up the base of her spine the second she saw him.
She turned away from Lila’s door at the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. The tread was too heavy to be Lila and for a fraction of a second Patch’s heart clenched at the thought that it might be Roman—then a tall, dark-haired figured stepped out of the stairwell.
“Santiago.”
The jaguar jerked, almost guiltily, and froze in place. “Patch. Hey.”
“Looking for a place to claim as your own for the duration?”
His eyes flicked to Lila’s door and then away. “Looking for Lila, actually.”
Patch felt her eyebrows arch before she could school her expression. The dark jaguar had always been one of the few people Lila hadn’t been able to work her easy charm on. They’d never really seemed to get along, but she was the future Alpha’s future mate. There were lots of official reasons Santiago would have to look for her. Patch told herself not to read anything into it.
“I was looking for her too. No luck.” Patch moved past him toward the outdoor stairwell. Santiago hesitated, almost as if he would wait for Lila, then followed, dropping his forearms beside hers as she leaned over the rail and looked down at the flurry of activity below. It was amazing how much crap a couple dozen shifters needed to move in.
“So, have you picked out a place yet?” she asked. “You probably know all the new housing options better than just about anyone.” Santiago was an architect and had been contributing his skills to the pride by designing the condos and bungalows for the latest expansion.
“I haven’t decided if I’m coming in yet,” he admitted. “You?”
“I already have a place I use when I’m here.” She’d need to go out and collect more of her things from her cabin, but for now she had the essentials covered.
“So you’re going to play house with the lions?”
“Greg and Lucienne more or less raised me since I was ten. It would look bad if I didn’t come in.”
“But?”
“But I’d
rather be anywhere else,” she said, with the comfort of knowing Santiago would know exactly what she meant. They both loved the pride and were grateful for the community they had here—but not all shifters were designed for living in one big happy family.
Of course, there were dangers of being on your own.
That sour-sweet medicinal smell.
“Be careful, will you?” she said. “If you stay out at your place. Just…take precautions, okay? You’re not allowed to vanish on me.” He was a good friend. Steady.
He grunted something vaguely affirmative, staring out over the compound.
“Will you go after these human scientists, if the Alpha gets a posse together?”
Santiago made a low, negative noise. “Not my thing. You?”
“Yeah. I’ll go.” She’d go anywhere for a chance to finally know what really happened to her parents. Even if it was only a slight chance.
“You believe the rumors.”
“Too many stories all lining up for there not to be some truth in it. Too many shifters coming from too many different places, all with the same boogeyman.” And all of them matching up with the boogeyman from her childhood, the one who had stolen her parents and left her completely alone.
She heard wood splinter and looked down at her hands, realizing she was clenching the banister too tightly. She forced her grip to ease.
“I should go,” Santiago said, with visible reluctance. “Stake out a place for myself before they’re all taken, just in case.”
“Good idea,” Patch agreed. She should go too. Find Lila. Find Roman. Get her things from her cabin. There were a thousand things she could be doing, but she didn’t move as Santiago shoved away from the rail, called a goodbye and loped down the stairs.
Alone, she stared out over the pride. She’d always had mixed feelings about this place. The legendary Lone Pine Pride with its noble, magnanimous lions. She’d been hearing stories about the pride for as long as she could remember. It was mentioned alongside Camelot and Shangri-la in the bedtime stories her parents told her. Lone Pine, where all shifters were welcome and all shifters were safe.