“They found her while I was working.” His voice tightened with sorrow. “I hear the gunshots in my dreams. They send me shifting and running—”
“And attacking everything in sight?” she finished for him.
Rhys nodded solemnly. “Half awake, half asleep, it’s hard to pick out past and present. Everything feels like a threat and I’m racing against time to save her. I felt that the other night. I didn’t know if I was chasing her killers or Jasper’s lions.”
Her heart broke for him. No wonder he’d pushed her away. He wasn’t running from her. He ran from the tremendous loss he carried. And the moment that loss came close to becoming a reality again, he walled himself off to keep from feeling it.
“To this day, I don’t know if our pride was the target or if they just got lucky. I don’t know if they were associated with some bigger group. I assume not because no one came looking for the three I finished.
“The first two were easy. I found them camped in the mountains. Dumb fucks would have tripped over the dragon roost if they’d kept going for the night. The winged ones would have made what I did look like fun and games. The third was harder, but he must have been convinced there were more of our kind. He circled back to town. I found him in the burger joint and didn’t even wait to get outside before I started beating on him.” His hands twitched as if they were ready to swing against that ghost of the past, but he went on, “My father and the second dragged me off before I shifted. It was close. So fucking close. I don’t know what would have happened if they got there a few seconds slower. The place was full of humans. I’d probably have killed them all. As it was, I nearly exposed our pride, which couldn’t be allowed to stand.
“My father, the alpha of our pride, spared me a clean death. He had me bound in silver so I couldn’t shift, then had me whipped. I wasn’t allowed to shift to heal. The sentence had to stick, he said, as if I was ever going to forget what happened. When I had a nice patchwork of scars, he stripped me of my rank and position in the pride and exiled me from the territory. A mercy, he called it, but I don’t know what kind of mercy it is to make a man live without his mate.”
She stayed quiet. Questions built up on the tip of her tongue, but the weight in the air kept her lips sealed shut. He was there. He promised to explain. She recognized the pain that darkened his scent. Fighting through it to put words in the air took time.
So she gave it to him. Time to put them in order. Time to rip through the pain that encased his heart.
Rhys tightened his hands into fists. “For the longest time, rage was the only thing carrying me forward. I fought hard, Sage. You think what I put the rest of the pride through is tough to watch? I left a path of broken shifters from North Carolina to Montana trying to outrun the pain. I wanted to die. You changed that.”
Sage jerked her head up. He reached into his pocket and drew out another carving, then pushed to his feet. Heavy footfalls carried him from her couch to her kitchen bar where the lioness he’d made had sat for days.
He pushed the two figurines together, aligning them so their tails twisted together. One their own, both wobbled just a little too much. But together? They stood completely solid.
“That’s us,” she whispered. “You made us both.”
“My father showed up a few days ago. He gave me some half-hearted apologies and offered me a place in the pride. I told him no, not because of how everything played out, though that was part of it. The real reason is because I can’t bring myself to leave you.” He paused, then let his eyes drift to her face. “You’re my mate, Sage.”
The words hung in air thick enough for her to pluck them like flowers.
They slowly sank through her ears and into her brain. Her cat twisted herself into knots to hear them again and again and again.
Mate.
He said they were mates.
She didn’t have good experience with the word. It’d meant control for the longest time. Destruction of everything she knew about herself. Death of spirit and, eventually, body.
Her father killed her mother. He’d ripped apart families on a whim and given the females to men who’d pleased him with their viciousness and cruelty. He’d sold her just as easily to the man who treated her as a toy to be broken.
Jasper… Well, he’d definitely succeeded in breaking her.
Rhys made her feel different. He felt different. He was as capable of the menace the monsters carried and he sure as hell was every inch as dominant, but Rhys had a lighter side, too. That side pushed and prodded her in the very best of ways. He made her want to be better.
In the silence, he pressed his lips into a thin line. His eyebrows shot down to pinch his nose. Under his beard, his jaw clenched.
“That’s all I need to know,” he said gruffly. “I’ll leave you alone.”
Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was not what she intended with her stunned silence.
“Don’t.” She said, taking a step forward. “Don’t go.”
He turned to her with uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
“I don’t want you to go. Not now.” She ducked her face, then lifted her eyes to meet his. “Not ever.”
“Sage—”
“I don’t care that you had a mate, Rhys. My heart is breaking for you that you lost her. I don’t care that you went after her killers. They got what they deserved. I care that you’re here, now, and that you don’t push me away because I accept you. All of you. The rough parts that make you fight, and the softer parts that give a woman a carving to make her feel like she can do anything.”
He crossed to her, moving so suddenly she almost failed to track him. One minute he was across the room, the next he had his hands tangled in her hair and his mouth sealed over hers.
Heat spiraled through her body as he pressed her against the counter. One hard swipe of his tongue along the seam of her mouth parted her lips and she welcomed the deep kiss. All the hurt he’d suffered poured out of him. All the longing and sorrow and wishing for some other life. Left behind was the hope for something new.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands trailed over her cheeks, down her neck. He grabbed her shoulders, then continued his path down her body. His fingers dug into her hips, then he ran his palms to the small of her back and down her thighs. Rhys lifted her easily, still not breaking the kiss, and walked her to her bed in the corner of the room.
He took a seat on the edge with her in his lap, then gently eased back with a soft smack. Deep blue eyes searched her face, but there wasn’t any hesitation to find. Her lioness had known all along what he was, but she’d been unwilling to listen and even more unwilling to act.
Rhys untangled himself long enough to reach over his head and draw away his shirt. “Here.” He guided her hand to his shoulder. “This is her mate mark.”
Sage brushed her fingertips over his skin. Scars streaked him, hiding most of the claiming bite, but she could feel the jagged edges that came from fangs instead of the ends of a whip.
She pressed her palm to his other shoulder. “Then this is where mine will go when I’m ready.”
His head jerked up and silver churned in his eyes.
“I’m not replacing her,” she explained. “No one can do that. You’re just making room in your heart for me, so I’ll share space on your body, too.”
The room tipped and she found herself on her back with Rhys braced over her. More silver dumped into his eyes as he slowly leaned down, brushing his lips over hers. Once, twice, he teased her a third time before sealing them together.
She waited for the panic to climb into the driver’s seat, but there was nothing. No sick swirl in her gut, no swimming of her head. Her heart pounded a wicked beat against her breastbone, but that had nothing to do with all the bad she’d experienced, and everything to do with the man taking his sweet time kissing her into oblivion.
She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Heat flared up and down her body, spreading so thickly that she wo
ndered if she’d ever feel a chill again.
She didn’t feel any fear, either. Not even a hint cut through the desire burning through her veins. Rhys wasn’t Jasper. He’d never pin her down and drag his claws along her skin. She was safe underneath him.
Safe, and very, very needy.
Rhys hooked his thumbs into the waist of her jeans, teasing the skin underneath. He slid them higher, under the hem of her shirt, and rubbed slow circles. He pushed higher, then stopped, almost frozen above her as he tested her reaction. When she didn’t push him away, he pushed higher again, exposing inches of her soft middle. She lifted when he bunched the fabric over the swell of her chest, and let him draw her shirt over her head.
Rhys dragged his eyes away from her face and down, down, down. She braced herself for the reaction she knew was coming.
He flinched back when his eyes fell on her scar. A growl rattled in his chest, savage and protective all at once. “He did this?”
Sage nodded. Knowing about it was different than seeing. She pressed her lips together and turned her face away. “He never let me out of the collar to heal.”
“Fuck him,” Rhys muttered, dipping his head again.
Sage’s lungs froze when she felt the tip of his tongue dragging along her skin. Her breath burst out of her at the agile swoop around the lower curve dipping down her breast, and the race up the straightaway to her collarbone. Rhys growled again, the sound more lustful than murderous, as he traced the top line over her shoulder and to the crook of her neck.
His beard scratched at her skin as he nibbled his way to her ear. “It’s mine, now,” he told her. “Anytime you touch it, you’ll remember me kissing you there. You don’t belong to him, Sage. You’re mine.”
She swore—absolutely swore—her panties tried to rip themselves away from her body.
He retraced his steps, sealing his words with a small peck at the tail end of the scar, then turned his attention to the rest of her body. Slow licks crawled along the edges of her bra, then his fingers dipped under the cups to draw them down. He thumbed one nipple, then the other, teasing her with close passes of his mouth.
When he had her panting and arching her back for more, he reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. It joined her shirt somewhere on the floor, but she was far more concerned with the man grazing her sensitive flesh with his teeth.
Rhys smoothed his palms down her sides, then dipped his head and followed the same path with his mouth. She sucked in a breath the moment his fingers found the button of her jeans, but nodded when he rolled questioning eyes to her face.
He was hers. Her true, fated mate. There was no sense in being afraid of a man like Rhys. He thrived off her pleasure, not her pain.
He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her jeans, and dragged them and her panties down in one smooth swoop.
“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes sliding shut. “You smell good.”
“Do you want to taste?”
The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could even think them into existence. She didn’t know what magic he worked on her, but he’d done the same when he watched her pleasure herself. He made her feel confident and daring enough to bring her thoughts to life.
His lids snapped open and silver swirled in his eyes. He chuckled, the sound thick and delicious, as he bent lower. “Taste you, you mean?” He kissed halfway between her belly button and her clit. “Is that what you want me to do?”
Sage swallowed hard as he dragged the tip of his tongue lower. His beard scratched at her skin again, the roughness pairing well with the fevered heat that engulfed her entire body.
His hands closed around her thighs and he yanked her closer. The teasing light in his eyes died with a low, vibrating growl.
Sage groaned as he buried his face between her legs.
Nothing should feel that good. Not food or drinks or silk sheets rubbing against her skin. Definitely not his hot, wet tongue. She tightened her hands in his hair, intending to push him away to keep some level of sanity and expectations of a normal sex life, but somehow found herself pulling him closer.
She rode his tongue, then the fingers he slipped into her. Pleasure spiked and spiraled, twitching her thighs seemingly in rhythm with her heartbeat. She gasped and groaned as he edged her closer, then backed off to tease her more, until finally, finally he sucked her clit between his lips and didn’t let up.
Sage nearly jackknifed off the bed as her release barreled down on her. She shattered around his fingers, then melted back down under the tender licks and growls of her very pleased mate.
Rhys caught her eyes as he pulled away, then stuck his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean.
“I want you, Sage,” he said. Standing, his hands went to his jeans. “I want you so bad it hurts. I want your taste on my tongue, I want your scent on my skin, your screams in my ears. I want to feel you tightening around my cock as you come.” He popped the button and pulled down his zipper, then took his thick cock in his hand. “Let me hear you tell me that’s what you want, too.”
Holy hell. Holy, holy hell.
Her eyes widened as he took a step back toward the bed, jeans falling to his ankles. He stroked his shaft from root to tip and back again, silver eyes locked on her face.
“Tell me, Sage,” he growled, one knee going to the bed.
She caught her lip between her teeth, then let her knees butterfly open. “Yes,” she whimpered. “I want that. I want you.”
* * *
Rhys breathed her in. Juniper, rain, and moonlight. Baked earth and fur. She was absolutely delicious.
And his.
Not completely. Not until his fangs marked her skin and he wore her claim on his, but that future was more than a dream. More than a possibility. She actively planned to make it a reality.
He didn’t deserve her.
He couldn’t give her up.
Rhys slowly crawled up her body. Her scent called to him and he almost sank between her legs for another taste. Almost. As much as he wanted to swallow down more of her, he had other needs.
He notched the tip of his cock against her slick entrance. The heat of her body already made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He pushed a single inch into her, then backed off slowly, eyes flying to her face.
She caught her lip between her teeth and tangled her hands in the blankets under her. “Yes,” she nodded fiercely. “More.”
More. Fucking hell. He’d give her anything she asked.
He eased into her again. Another inch, then pulled away, two more, then a retreat. Slowly, so slowly, he worked his way into her, trailing kisses down her neck, over her lips, and across her shoulder the entire time. She wrapped around him so tightly, caressed his hard length with silky, fluttering muscles. He was so amazed when he slid home that final inch that he just stared down into her gorgeous green eyes.
Sage ran her fingertips over his cheeks, a slow smile spreading over her face. “This feels amazing.”
One corner of his mouth hitched up in a cocky smirk. “This?” he chuckled, leaning down to take her earlobe between his teeth. “We’re just getting started.”
The gasp that rocked out of her lung on the first pull of his hips would forever be engraved in his memory. That sound alone was almost enough to push him over the edge.
It was all like that with her. Every sound, every blush, every damn tightening of her thighs worked against him. With him. He didn’t even know. He just needed more.
Slow strokes turned faster. Harder. Her pants in his ears and her fingernails dragging along his skin spun him out. He wanted more of her, dreading those heartbeats of his withdrawals and loving the feel of her body taking every inch on his thrusts.
Rhys flipped them over with a quick twist of his hips. He slid his hands up her back, holding her close. Dipping his head at the same time, he mouthed a path of fire over her shoulder and down her chest. Every inch of her called to him. He’d need all the time in the world to memorize the dips and flares of her
body, but he started with swirling his tongue around her nipple and taking it between his lips.
Sage arched into him, giving more of herself, never once stopping the rise and fall of her hips.
“So good,” she gasped.
Rhys only growled in answer. What could he say that even came close to the ecstasy rolling through his head and spreading through his body? Heat shot down his spine.
“Rhys,” she moaned. “Rhys. Gonna… I’m gonna…”
“Do it,” he growled into the crook of her neck. He nipped her, keeping himself in check enough to not break her skin. His lion roared in his head, wanting to bite her, claim her, make her theirs, but he held back. Not until she said the words. And then… No one would stand in the way of putting his mark on his mate.
She threw her head back with a harsh cry, his name lost somewhere in the sound. That uncontrolled noise was his undoing, and he dragged her roughly up and down his length as his own release slammed into him. White-hot pleasure scorched up his cock to spill inside her.
His heart, her heart, he didn’t know where one sound ended and the other began. Both beats pounded in his ears, slowing as he carried them both through their aftershocks.
He smoothed his hands over her face, then fluttered a gentle kiss over her lips. It wasn’t enough, but it was a good damn start.
Hers. He was all hers.
Chapter 24
Sage woke with a finger to her lips. Her eyes snapped open as she slammed down the rising panic. Rhys’s scent filled her lungs, not Jasper’s.
“Talk to me,” he said in a hiss next to her ear. Louder, he added, “We never finished that conversation about what you wanted in the future.”
Before she could ask him what was going on, he edged off the bed. Silent feet carried him across the living room and toward the front door where he pressed his back to the wall.
He rolled his hand through the air in a sign for her to start talking.
“That’s on you. You can be very distracting when you want,” she said as lightly as she could manage. Sage sat up, drawing the blanket to her chest. She could hardly hear her words over the pounding of her heart. “I guess I want what anyone wants. Someone who loves them and will make midnight snacks whenever they want.”
Savage Exile: Lion Hearts Book Five Page 16