Savage Exile: Lion Hearts Book Five

by Lane, Cecilia

  Okay, it had to be possible to die from sheer embarrassment. Her cheeks heated to what she was certain rivaled the inner temperature of an active volcano.

  “Come on,” Kyla nodded to the door. “I so rudely came over because the ladies wanted to get together tonight. You’re invited, if you’re interested.”

  Sage let go a sigh of relief. “I’d like that very much.”

  “Are we doing hot cocoa?” Hailey called out as soon as they stepped onto Sage’s porch.

  “Hell yes! Bring it over!” Kyla yelled back. She bumped Sage with her shoulder. “Tonight definitely calls for cocoa, don’t you think?”

  Colette stuck her head out the door, disappeared inside, then reappeared a moment later with a mug in her hands. She jogged down the steps of her den, then leaned against Sage’s railing and fixed them with a dirty look. “I heard there was cocoa happening. Who lied?”

  “No lies!” Sage laughed. “Hailey’s on her way. Apparently the bat signal went out too early.”

  Right next door, Lilah pulled the same move.

  “I’m here, I’m here,” Hailey chanted as she hustled across the yard with thermoses in hand. “I hope you brought your own mugs because I can’t carry everything.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Colette teased, holding hers out for the first splash of steamy liquid.

  “That’s a good dear,” Hailey murmured with a roll of her eyes. She held out her thermos, then filled the nearest mug.

  The porch quieted with contented silence a few moments later. Sage sighed and closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth in her hands and the smell of chocolate filling her nose. The only thing better would be a touch of spice to the scent.

  “Soo,” Kyla started, “guess who made Sage a lioness carving.”

  Her eyes snapped open and she swatted her friend. “Betrayal!”

  “Can I just be the first to say... finally!” Hailey said with a definitive nod.

  “Is it serious? Or are you just getting a little something-something?” Colette asked with a salacious wink.

  Sage covered a cheek with her hand and tried not to crawl out of her skin or melt right into the ground. “It’s new? I don’t know what else to say except for that. It’s new and exciting and I have no idea what I’m doing with this whole man that’s been dropped into my lap.”

  Silence stretched out and she didn’t need to look up to know four sets of probing eyes watched her every move. Her lioness prowled through her head, but the attention didn’t provoke the cat or make her want to hide away. She felt as giddy as Sage herself.

  She reached for her words and tried to put them into some sort of order, but the warmth that filled her chest was hard to explain. ‘Good’ wasn’t a strong enough description for the hopeful feel she carried. “I can breathe around him,” she said finally. “I mean, of course I’m breathing around you, right now, this very second, but…”

  “But it’s different with him,” Kyla finished, a goofy grin on her face. “Because it’s not just breathing. It’s existing, and that’s hard to do with a million pounds weighing on your chest.”

  “Oh, so not serious at all,” Hailey teased.

  “He’s good for you,” Kyla repeated. “You’re showing so much more of that badass side I always tried to copy.”

  Lilah nodded, pride filling her scent. “You’re finding your own strength. It looks good on you.”

  “Smarter than me, that’s for sure,” Colette chimed in. “No one had to tell you to get your shit together and let that man into your life.”

  “That’s not true,” Sage answered. “Everyone here tried putting me back together. Kyla pulled me out of hell. Hailey told me to find something for myself. Colette and Lilah, you were examples of how to come back from those low points in your life. I…” She paused and swept a look over the women sitting with her. Her heart swelled big enough that she thought she might burst. “I wouldn’t be here without all of you.”

  A chorus of squeals was her only warning before arms were thrown around her neck, shoulders, and waist. She tipped back under the force of their hugs, taking them down with her and turning the touched sounds to giggles.

  “You’re doing the hard work,” Hailey said from somewhere within the pile. “We just nudged you along.”

  “And you’ll keep doing it!” Kyla added. “We’ll be here to help you when you stumble or Rhys does something stupid—”

  Colette snorted. “Did I tell you what Dash did last week? I told him to pick up flour from the store, and that idiot comes back with a single flower because he didn’t put any ounce of thinking into the request.”

  Sage smiled to herself as the others shared their own stories of failures and misunderstandings. Even with harsh words and rolls of their eyes, there was so much love in their voices and written over their faces.

  She was struck by how different they were from the women in the Levine pride or the poor souls in Jasper’s ranks. Those put her on edge, never knowing if her words would be used against her or if she’d even see their faces again.

  The Crowley women made her feel like she belonged. Even more, they made her feel strong, supported, and capable of anything she set her mind to.

  Her whole body buzzed with happiness by the time the group broke up. She said her goodbyes and goodnights, then slipped back through her door to wait for Rhys.

  She woke alone with an aching heart.

  Chapter 21

  Rhys padded through the night on silent paws. Each step jolted pain up his legs. That pain carried along his spine, then burrowed deep into his head. Irritation built and built, until the only thing he wanted was to turn back for Sage’s den.

  He plodded along his assigned path instead. As much as he wanted to fill his nose with juniper and rainfall, he wanted to make sure she was kept safe even more. That meant sharing patrol duty with the others and watching for any sign of intruders.

  He almost wished the fuckers would show up. He was tired of sitting on his hands and waiting for them to make the first move. They’d been caught unawares too many times and faced close calls. He wanted to turn the tables on the assholes and make them pay for everything they’d done.

  Threaten Hailey? Put a bounty on Lilah’s head? Threaten Kyla with the hell they’d put Sage through? Even Dash suffered a bad leg break while they tracked Lindley on his dumbshit suicide mission.

  His pride needed the win. Not just a temporary one, either. A full-throated howl of victory.

  Fuck, he could use one himself. He was tired of feeling like an insect caught under a magnifying glass.

  The consortium fucks weren’t the only watchers, either. His father hadn’t yet left town. The man still took up space in Bearden, pulling the same shit he’d pulled with Sage. Quietly watching, no pressure, just waiting for the dropping of the guard for his moment to strike.

  He’d mulled over that damn offer to wash the slate clean and return home. Every twist and turn of the pieces made it seem like a last resort. Alton had lost his second and his designated heirs. They faced threats and needed a little extra violence that a feral beast could bring. And every part of him wanted to reject it outright.

  But those final words? Offering him a safe harbor if he needed it? That was the caring father he remembered, not the alpha that forced him into exile.

  He’d been fighting for so damn long. Other lions, hunters, anyone who needed a punch to the face. The big push came after Hannah’s death, but he’d let his temper run him from the start. She’d been the balm he’d needed to settle his unquiet spirit. Without her tethering him back to what was good and right, he’d been utterly adrift in a sea of fury.

  Maybe once he’d have given the offer serious thought. Or maybe he’d have had the exact same reaction and told the old man to get the hell out of his den. Trent was right about one thing, though. He had to tell Sage everything. He just didn’t know where to begin.

  He hesitated with his paw just above the ground, ears flicking to catch the noises in the night.r />
  Something was off.

  Listening, breathing, watching, he took an inventory. The cold wasn’t deep enough to drive all the noisemakers into their burrows and hiding places, so the nighttime chorus sang around him. A tiny breeze shook the ends of his mane. Peeling back his lips, he picked apart the baked earth scents of his pride and the deep forest of the Ashford bears.

  There. A footfall.

  Rhys crouched low to the ground, eyes and ears trained on the spot where he heard the soft scuff. Another followed the first, drawing closer.

  Below him, four lions marched in single file, each carefully stepping in the footprint of the lead male.

  A silent snarl curled his lips. Dumb fucks. They went through all the trouble of concealing themselves, but still made the mistake of sneaking past Crowley lines.

  Rhys launched himself off the ground and landed right in their middle. He took advantage of their initial confusion rake his claws across the soft connection of belly and back leg. The other lion roared with pain, but jerked aside before he could make the limb utterly useless.

  Another lunged at him, and he whipped around to drag his claws down the bastard’s face. The three at his back used his distraction against him, digging sharp points into the patchwork of scars on his hide. He’d earned those for defending one woman. Adding more in the defense of another suited him just fine.

  He shook them off, then whirled again. Bite, he turned. Swipe, he rose up on his hind legs and slammed down on the back of another.

  This wasn’t like fighting the Crowleys. His pride took him on solely to keep him from losing his shit entirely and going on a rampage. Killing blows weren’t part of the mix, but the lions he faced didn’t feel the same loyalty. He stood between them and their target. They wanted him dead.

  He’d fight to the final, bloody second.

  Rhys jumped for the closest lion. He landed a hard swipe before the fuckers converged on him again. He roared as claws and fangs ripped and tore at him. They knocked against him, trying to trip him up.

  Rage carried him into the next step even as his blood wet the ground. He knew if he went down, there would be no getting back up again. He had to keep going. There wasn’t any room for weakness. Not when his mate’s life was on the line.

  Another savage lash of his paw. Another spin to land his fangs into the shoulder of the lion behind him. He was slowing, taking more hits than he delivered, but he kept fucking going.

  Then a roar threatened to burst his eardrums. Another, and the bastard trying to drive him to the ground disappeared. He scrambled under a paw aimed at his face to see a lion and a bear ripping into the group.

  Dash and Colette had arrived as backup.

  The massive black bear barreled straight through the middle, scattering the lions trying to pin him to the ground. Dash skidded to a stop at Colette’s side, swinging around with a roar of his own.

  The assholes turned and fled.

  Fuck that.

  Rhys dug deep for an extra burst of energy. He lunged after the nearest lion, catching him with his claws along the back of his leg. The fucker went down in a heap, but he bolted for the next, leaving the clean up to Dash and Colette.

  They did not get to prowl through his territory, attack his mate, then disappear. He’d hunt them down and make them pay for what they’d taken from him.

  The second was faster, but still slower than the rest. Breath bursting in the air, heart pounding with exertion, he let his paws eat up the ground between them. He could already feel the blood rushing over his tongue.

  A life for a life. That was what they deserved.

  Something deep in his head scratched at him that he was wrong and wasn’t thinking clearly, but he swatted that whisper away like an annoying gnat. He knew what he had to do.

  A big, black bear slammed to a stop in front of him. He banked to the left, trying to go around her, but Dash was right there.

  Rhys stumbled to a stop. What the fuck were they doing? Their enemies were right there, and they were letting them get away!

  He lifted his lip and let off a snarl, then turned to cut around them. Both moved to block him in again.

  Fuckers. Assholes. They thought they could pull him off the hunt?

  He dug his claws into the dirt and snarled again. The standoff lasted all of three seconds before Rhys whirled. He slammed his shoulder into Dash, hissed at Colette, then swerved around them both to race into the night.

  He had to save her. He had to kill them before they killed her.

  Blonde hair, auburn hair. Blue eyes, green eyes. He had no idea which he meant, but that didn’t matter when he had the trail of killers in his nose.

  * * *

  Rhys braced an arm against the wall of the shower and twisted the knob. Water dripped off his body, but no amount of scrubbing had made him feel clean or sane.

  He’d lost himself the night before. He knew he chased consortium lions, but every part of him conflated those fuckers with Hannah’s killers. Past and present bled together until he’d fallen back on the same old fury. It was his constant companion, always looking for a place to wedge into even when the world was looking a little brighter.

  But that was the lie. He didn’t have a bright world. He didn’t have happiness. He was rotten on the inside.

  With a growl, he battered the shower curtain to the side and stepped into the cramped bathroom. He scrubbed the towel over his hair and stiffened. Over the scent of fresh soap, he smelled her. That thin thread of juniper and rain snaked under the door and tried to wrap a leash around his neck.

  He closed his eyes and wished he was dreaming. Wished he could be someone else. Anyone else. A normal man with normal lines of thinking would be a nice start.

  Rhys yanked open the door as soon as he was dried and dressed. His eyes landed on Sage immediately. She sat on the edge of his bed with her hands clasped in her lap. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders and the eyes she turned on him were wide and bright with her inner lioness.

  He paused in the bathroom doorway and leaned a shoulder against the frame. “For someone who doesn’t like her own privacy violated, you sure didn’t have any trouble making yourself at home.”

  She snapped straight. Hurt flashed over her face and through her scent. “I was worried about you,” she said in a rush. “You were supposed to come over last night and then you didn’t—”

  “So you decided on a little breaking and entering,” he said in a hard voice.

  She jerked away like she’d been slapped. Rhys’s lion snarled and swiped claws through his middle, but he didn’t take back the words. What could he even say? That he was a fucking loon steadily working his way to needing Trent to put an end to him? That he was too violent and angry, still, after six fucking years? Try as he might, he couldn’t heal the wounds he carried. He couldn’t infect her, either.

  So he stayed silent. Jaw clenched, hating every pain-filled inhale he took, he kept his damn mouth shut. She deserved someone who wasn’t a monster or a killer or lost his shit when he needed to keep his head on straight.

  Sage pushed to her feet and took a cautious step forward. Her hands fluttered at her side as if she wanted to reach for him, but wasn’t sure if she should. “Colette told me what happened last night. Why did you go after them alone?”

  The quietness of her voice killed him. The last month had done wonders for her. She’d found her feet and started living again. Hell, she’d cobbled together her own little dance studio just to make a frightening room tolerable. If he’d been a better man, he would be sourcing what she needed for flooring and bolting fancy ballet bars to the damn wall.

  Instead, he was planning on tracking down consortium fucks and finishing them off the same as he’d done to the two he’d found the night before.

  “You should leave,” he told her gruffly.

  Auburn hair turned blonde. Green eyes turned blue.

  The image burned into his head, then flickered, and Sage stood in front of him again.
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  His lion roared as pain surged through him.

  He’d failed Hannah. Those hunter assholes rolled right up to their den and killed her for sport. She hadn’t deserved death, not like him. He should have died that day. She’d been the sweetest creature in existence, turning away even from killing spiders, but they still shot her.

  He was failing Sage. Those consortium bastards didn’t know how to leave well enough alone. She’d worked so hard to find her feet, but they were still circling like vultures and waiting for any moment to strike.

  He’d been the one to let two get away, just the same as he’d waved off Hannah’s killers days before they struck.

  He shouldn’t have gotten close to Sage. Not when he was still a fucking mess. Not when she’d be left to suffer when he lost that final fingernail grip on sanity.

  “Rhys?”

  Heat blasted through him as her hands connected with his arm, but he killed that part of himself and shook her off, striding for the door. “Stay away, Sage.”

  She hurt. Fucking hell, she hurt. Because of him. He couldn’t point to any of the external shit circling them, couldn’t put it at Jasper’s or her father’s feet, couldn’t even trick himself into thinking she was just some poor, broken little bird.

  He hurt her.

  His lion roared to take everything back, to fix it, to upright everything he’d knocked over in her world. Claws dug into his head and slashed at his insides. The beast shot out sendings, but no matter how lonely and bleak those images looked, Rhys didn’t take one damn step toward cleaning up his mess.

  He wasn’t good for her. He’d get her killed.

  He hadn’t saved Hannah. He couldn’t save Sage, either.

  Chapter 22

  Rhys stumbled against the chain-link fence of the fighting ring, ears ringing as much from the roar of the crowd as the blow to the head. He shook himself to clear the waver in his vision, then brought up his fists. Like hell he’d let some bear half his size take him down.

  The fucker was fast, and leaned on that snakebite quickness. He shot across the ring, fists swinging, and ducked under Rhys’s arms to land a quick one-two punch before dancing away again.