The Lion's Pride (BBW Paranormal Lion Shifter Romance) (The True Date Agency)

by Terra Wolf

  Lara

  “You didn’t know, did you?”

  I could hear the words, but they seemed a million miles away, a strange buzzing masking them.

  “Lara?”

  I think I nodded. That was me.

  “Do you need to lie down?”

  “No!” I forced the word out past dry lips. I didn’t want to move. If I just sat here, I could try and process this. I was pregnant?

  “You don’t seem happy about it.”

  How did I feel? I was pregnant, after all this time. After all the failed attempts, the tests, the humiliation, then devastating news that it might never happen. And now? My hands drifted to my stomach. There was a baby in there…

  “I’m happy.” Beyond happy—ecstatic, elated, scared, confused—all of the above, and more. “But…my job?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that! This is wonderful news! A little shifter baby to play with all the other kids; it’ll be fine.”

  Shifter? “You can smell that?”

  Sarah tapped the tip of her nose, chuckling. “Never underestimate a shifter’s sense of smell. The baby’s a big cat, from the smell of him.”

  “Him?”

  “Oh, balderdash! Did you want a surprise? I’m sorry, I forget that humans can’t tell, so I didn’t think about it—”

  I laid a hand on her arm, interrupting her mortified babble. “It’s fine. Really. I’m having a baby boy!”

  “I’m surprised the father didn’t tell you.”

  Oh, yeah. The father. My sunny mood came crashing down at the thought of Zane. I didn’t know a hell of a lot about shifters, but I was pretty sure having a baby with someone who wasn’t your mate wasn’t the done thing. “He doesn’t know,” I admitted.

  Her eyebrows arched, a frown furrowing her brow. “You’re not mated?”

  “No.”

  “Lara—”

  “And I’d appreciate it if we could keep this between us, just for the time being, until I get my head around it.”

  “It’s going to come out, you know, and soon. Shifters can smell a pregnancy, and they can tell what kind of baby you’re carrying—”

  “But not whose, right?” Please…please…please…

  Her lips twisted, then she eventually answered, not meeting my eyes. “Most wouldn’t be able to. They’d have to have met the father and have a good read on his scent.”

  “Do you mind if I—?” I gestured vaguely at the door.

  “Sure! Of course, if you need anything…” Her voice trailed off as I stood up, grabbed my bag and nearly ran from the room.

  * * *

  Lara

  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe Sarah and her infallible nose. Nope. I just needed some good, old-fashioned medical confirmation. Had it been five minutes yet? The test said to wait three, but I wanted to be sure, so I wasn’t looking until five had passed. I paced my small bedroom, darting suspicious looks at the innocuous white plastic stick which sat on the dresser.

  A piercing sound filled the air, making me jump. I willed my thudding heart to slow; it was just the timer on my phone. Well, it was now or never. Taking a deep breath, I picked the test up. This was it—if I was to believe Sarah, then everything I had ever wanted was about to come true. All my life, all I ever wanted was to be a mother. It was one of the reasons I had chosen the career I had, working with children every day, strengthening their minds while nurturing their souls. Being a teacher was all I had ever wanted. And a mother.

  Just do it! Turn it over.

  Rotating the test in a shaking hand, I forced my eyes open. Two pink lines stared back at me. Stumbling back in shock, I sank down onto the bed. It was actually true! I was going to have a baby! Joy soared through me, filling me full of the kind of hope I had not felt in… I blinked, the reality of just how unhappy I had been hitting me. It had been a very long time since I had actually looked forward to the future. Had not just pretended while really trying to convince myself that somehow everything was going to be okay, was going to be worth the effort of getting through the day. Yeah, a very long time.

  With the confirmation in my hand, there was no reason to doubt Sarah’s prediction, and the image of a little baby boy formed in my mind. What would he look like? Would he have my caramel skin, my eyes? Then it hit me—he would be a shifter. A lion shifter. Just like his dad. The brown eyes in my vision faded to be replaced with a piercing green, the imagined dark hair lightening and tufting with gold.

  I flopped back on the bed, questions firing in my mind. What did I know about raising a shifter baby? What if he shifted in public? Would I know how to help him? I stared at the ceiling as though it were going to give me the answers. I wanted to be a good mom, but how could I if I didn’t know where to start?

  I gave myself a mental shove. Lolling around like this feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to help! I could let doubt take over or I could hold on to the fact that every woman out there who had a baby for the first time went through this, through the uncertainty of not knowing how they were going to cope. They trusted that they were going to know what to do or, at least, figure it out when they had to. I sat up, determination steeling my spine. I would learn the old-fashioned way—with hands-on experience.

  Wow! I was knocked up and sitting on my own, but I was grinning so much my cheeks were starting to ache. I was really going to do this! This was really happening! Okay, it wasn’t exactly how I had envisioned it—I was missing the perfect husband, a house in the suburbs, and the compulsory family dog, but hey, life wasn’t perfect.

  I stroked a hand over my stomach. One day soon, I would feel little feet kicking! For the first time in my life, I wished I were a shifter—if I had their senses, I would be able to scent the baby, I would know him already…

  For over an hour, my mind danced, imagining the new possibilities, the ideas, considering and rejecting possible baby names. Planning out our future together. Avoiding. Because no matter how hard I tried to block out the one question I didn’t want to face, I kept coming back to it. Should I tell Zane? No, I told myself firmly, my conscience pricking at me. It wasn’t really a question of should, it was a question of when. I couldn’t not tell him; it wouldn’t be fair.

  I’d already known the answer, I just hadn’t wanted to face it, hadn’t wanted to think about it right now. Not when I was so happy. But facts were facts. I had to go back to the club knowing that there would never be a future between us, knowing that I wasn’t the one who could make him happy. I wasn’t his mate, and he wasn’t my perfect husband. If I was being brutally honest with myself, what I had done was so out of character for me I still had trouble believing it had actually happened! I wasn’t the kind of woman that had a one-night stand. I just didn’t. I had to connect on an emotional level before getting naked.

  I stifled a snort. Not that there had been much getting naked—we hadn’t been able to wait that long. The mirth faded as I forced myself to really think about that night. The pull between us had been so intense, so real, it had been like we had connected on some unconscious level. Like our souls had called to one another. Since that night, an ache had grown inside of me, a constant reminder.

  I pushed the thought away for the complete nonsense it was. Sure, we had a connection, only it was of the more permanent and binding kind—the baby. And that was all it ever would be.

  I rolled onto my side, sliding my feet up the bed and curling into a ball. Tugging a pillow down, I scrunched it under my head.

  I was going to tell him…just not yet. I needed some time to pull myself together before I could face him. Whatever happened, I couldn’t let him see me like this; I had to be calm and in control. After all, he would have a mate one day, so it was better to let go of any hope I might be carrying now, rather than let it grow only to hurt ten times more later.

  That’s decided then—I’ll go see him next week at the club. My conscience finally silenced, I gave into the sleep that tugged at me, dragging me into dreams filled with love and joy
and laughter.

  And piercing green eyes.

  7

  Zane

  I crushed the piece of paper into a mangled wad, flinging it across the room, where it bounced harmlessly off a wall. Shame. I was in the mood to break something, anything.

  It had been weeks—weeks dammit!—of looking and we hadn’t gotten any further.

  “We’ll find her, Zane. We won’t stop looking,” murmured Gretchen from where from where she sat across from me in a chair, pouring over the pile of paperwork we had managed to dig up.

  We had eventually found out Lara’s last name—she had paid for her drink by card, so after combing through the computer records we had eventually managed to find her receipt. I snorted. It hadn’t done us much good. Lara Smith. Fucking perfect. The last few weeks had been spent combing through all the Lara Smith’s in the city, in the suburbs, even in the state, trying to find my Lara. Turned out there were a lot of L. Smiths in the area.

  “Hey, boss…Zane? I think I might have something here,” Andy called from where he sat hunched over the computer, where he had been for the last week or so.

  I sprang from the chair, striding across the office. “What have you got?” I snapped out.

  Andy spun the screen around. “Is this her? I think it is, but she looks a bit different, and her face is partially hidden by the guy.” He poked the photo in question.

  I leaned over his shoulder and peered at the small grainy photo. “It’s her!” Excitement grabbed me. I finally found her. “Where is she?”

  He flicked a finger at the screen. “The photo is on this guy’s Facebook profile. He’s a bit of an idiot, actually. His privacy settings are wide-open so I was able to flick through and look at all of his photos. The only reason I glanced at his profile is because I was looking through all of the ones with the last name Smith who live in and around the city.”

  “Who is he?” I growled, glaring at the man in the picture.

  “I honestly don’t know,” replied Andy. “Hopefully her brother. At least for his sake.” He muttered the last bit under his breath while flicking through some screens. “Here, the idiot has his phone number listed right on his profile. If I just—” he clicked a few more times and a box popped up. “There you go, Archibald Smith—shit, his mom must’ve hated him—and there’s the address.”

  This man would know where Lara is. Grabbing my keys off the desk, I strode towards the door.

  “Zane—”

  I paused, every cell in my body itching to get out there, to finally do something. “What is it, Gretchen?” I growled in a low voice, barely managing to hold my lion in check.

  “Just…don’t do anything silly, okay?” Concern colored her voice, her eyes anxious as she stared at me.

  I yanked open the door, my mind already having left, already working on what to say to Lara when I saw her again. “You know I can’t promise that, Gretchen.”

  I slammed the door shut behind me.

  * * *

  Zane

  I rang the bell to the ostentatious house one more time, suppressing the urge to beat down the door. I knew somebody was home; I could hear the loud music, the clashing and banging accompanying high-pitched giggles. Was that Lara? Adrenaline surged, frustration roaring through me. I didn’t have time for this.

  I was just raising my fist to give the door a good pounding, when it flew open. It was the guy from the photo, dressed in a pair of baggy shorts, scratching a small pot-belly while rubbing at bloodshot eyes. “What the hell, man? Do you know what time it is?” he whined.

  I didn’t—like I gave a fuck. But I was pretty sure it was the middle of the day. I glanced at the sky, noticing for the first time that the sun had dipped behind clouds. Maybe. Time had eluded me the last couple of weeks. “Lara,” I snarled. “Where is she?”

  The man gaped at me, then suddenly seemed to wake up, his eyes widening as he took a good look at me for the first time. “Lara? What do you want with Lara?”

  I braced a hand on the door, letting him get a good look at me. I was almost a full foot taller and packing a hell of a lot more muscle. I let my lion bleed into my eyes. “Answer the question—where is she?”

  “What the fuck has it got to do with you, shifter?” His eyes narrowed, then his lips twisted in a smirk. “Or, should I say, what do you want with my wife?”

  Wife? The word knocked me sideways, a virtual sucker-punch to the kidneys. She was married?

  “Yeah…my wife.” The little jerk straightened up, scowling at me. “What the fuck do you want with my wife?”

  My head was still reeling. She hadn’t said— Why had she—?

  “She didn’t tell you? She can’t help herself sometimes. She acts like a little whore, hooking up with guys, giving them a little taste… I know she does it. Hell, I think it’s funny! Is that what she did with you?” He narrowed his eyes at me, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

  No! She wouldn’t— She had been sweet and—

  But she had left without a word, disappearing off into the night without looking back. I tried to picture the Lara I knew acting like he’d described, but I couldn’t. I might not have known her for long, but something inside of me screamed at me, insisting that she wasn’t like that.

  But why would he say it?

  If I found a strange man on my doorstep looking for my mate, he’d be flat out on the floor by now.

  His eyes darted from side to side, not meeting mine. Certainty seared through me. He was lying. I’d been right; Lara wasn’t like that.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What could I say? This man was her husband. She had chosen to spend her life with him, even though he was clearly a piece of shit.

  “Is she here?” I eventually croaked out. I don’t know why I asked. It had to be a streak of narcissism I wasn’t aware of possessing. She was my mate, yet she already belonged to another and I wanted to see her. To torture myself.

  “No. She’s out right now. Would you like me to give her a message?”

  “So, who’s that in the house with you?” I could still hear giggles coming from behind him, just out of view.

  “None of your damn business,” he snapped out, then as though reconsidering, he added, “We have an open marriage, just in case you were thinking of causing trouble between me and my wife. Sorry, fucking her is a one-time only kinda thing.” He smirked, looking me up and down. “I don’t know why you’d bother coming back for more, though. Fucking Lara is like fucking a dead fish. Then again, you’re a shifter; you probably like it when they’re docile and placid. Me, I prefer—”

  He didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence, my fist connecting with his jaw, sending him flying back into the house.

  I shouldn’t have done that… I really shouldn’t have, but satisfaction was quickly burning away any remorse I was feeling.

  Satisfied he wasn’t coming back for more, I strolled back to my car and got in. Slipping the key into the ignition, I went to turn it, but my hand wouldn’t move, eventually dropping back down to my knee.

  She was my true mate, which meant we belonged together. If I pursued her, it would end her marriage to that idiot. Which would be fucking brilliant from my point of view, but what would she think? Maybe she’d be happy about it? I had to believe that what had happened between us was special, and that her husband was full of a special brand of lying bullshit.

  My lion reared up inside me, my skin itching with the need to shift and scare the crap out of him. Swallowing back the urge, I dug deep, trying to figure out what to do.

  If I broke up her marriage, she’d understand eventually, I was certain of that. The mate bond, the one that would connect us soul to soul—it would help her understand and make her see that we belonged together. But to get to that point, to complete the mating—that would mean taking away her choice in the matter. Because even with the attraction burning between us, I doubted she’d be throwing herself at me…and there was a fair chance she would hate
me if I pushed her into it.

  My head fell forward to rest on the steering wheel as any hope for the future came crashing down around me. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t risk it. All that was left was waiting. And hoping. And praying.

  Pulling myself together, I fired up the car and peeled out of the long, circular driveway. It didn’t matter how I felt. I could deal with it so long as Lara was happy.

  Alone, rejected, feeling sorry for myself. Nothing new. Hell, it was like coming home after a vacation—you resented it, but at least it was familiar. It wasn’t a new pain.

  8

  Lara

  Six months later…

  The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Grabbing their books and bags, the children charged out of the classroom, their high-pitched squeals of excitement ringing in my ears. Chuckling to myself, I tidied up my desk, quickly putting things to right, ready for a new day tomorrow.

  I honestly loved it here, and the school had quickly become my new home. It was more than just a school, it was a home for all the children who didn’t have one, and now it was mine. I had fit in perfectly, especially since I was carrying a baby that was a shifter too.

  Sarah had been wonderful, giving me all the time off I needed to attend doctor appointments and making allowances for me during morning sickness. Lately, when I wanted to eat everything in sight, she had made sure the cafeteria prepared my favorite meals, all the while dispensing advice about what I should expect when the baby arrived. We had become friends. Though it hadn’t deterred her from digging every now and again, asking if I had told the father.

  Gathering up an armful of papers, I kicked the classroom door shut and set off down the corridor. I’d told her the truth—I had tried. And I had! I’d gone to the club to see Zane, ready to tell him everything, and to give him a chance to be a part of our baby’s life.