by Hawk, Ryanne
“When did you become a martyr?” Maura countered.
Amara slid onto the floor, using her hands to propel her forward, and sat with her legs crossed to face her sister. “I think it was around the time one of the scientists ripped open my chest to see how fast I’d regenerate. Or it might have been the time they nearly beheaded me to find out whether I could put myself back together.”
Maura opened her mouth, a small puff of shock escaping her lips. Her hands lifted toward her heart. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. They’ll pay. I promise.”
“Oliver deserves better than what I have to offer. He deserves someone whole who will laugh and give him cute cubs.”
“Do you even know if he wants that?”
“Isn’t that what all mated couples want?”
Maura glanced off toward the window and tried to discretely wipe a tear from her face. She shrugged. “Some do, some don’t. Not everyone can have the white picket fence and squealing laughter of babies.”
Amara wasn’t sure who Maura was talking about. It didn’t sound so personal for her, but a swarm of emotion breezed across Amara’s skin. “You okay, sister?”
Maura cleared her throat. “Fine. Sorry. Some things just get to me. The murder of children is one of them.”
Amara clenched her hands into tight fists, her claws poking through her skin. “Who. Who did this to you?”
Sympathy masked her sister’s face, and Maura said softly, “Not me, honey. Cecelia. But those are her secrets and demons to share, not mine.”
The sharp tips of her claws receded back into their sockets and Amara nodded, blowing out a slow breath to calm her racing mind. It was filled with gruesome images and blood. Blood everywhere. On everything. Her blood, other shifter’s blood. Then the blood of her enemies as she’d gone bat-shit crazy and slaughtered all those in her path when she’d been able to break free of their shackles. Those believing themselves her superior, and she’d let them believe that, hadn’t she? So she could bide her time and kill them piece by bloody piece.
“Oliver’s a good man, sweetie. He’d never hurt you.”
Sadness coated Amara’s tongue with the pungent taste of regret. “I know that, Maura. I’m more afraid of what I’d do to him.”
Maura eased off the end of the mattress and stood, walking toward Amara’s seated position on the shaggy carpet. She lowered herself and wrapped her arms around Amara’s body. She squeezed, and pressed her face into Amara’s neck. “You’re a strong, beautiful, amazing woman, noodle. Don’t forget who you truly are.” She pressed a kiss to her cheek and then shifted away to stand with the grace of her line. A regal lioness not to be trifled with.
“I love you, Amaraynth. Get some sleep.”
“I love you too, Maura. Thank you.”
As her sister quietly shut the door to her room, Amara crawled back onto the bed and slid under the covers, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself. If only she could tune out the memories and dream with peace. But that hadn’t happened since her capture.
It’d probably never happen again.
Amara clutched her eyes closed, and asked her animal for aid. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and her mind was a cesspool of despair. Not to mention the ache between her legs and the scar covering her heart. She briefly thought about bringing herself to orgasm, then decided to wallow in self-pity instead.
The last thing she heard before sleep claimed her was the sinister voice of a madman telling her she was good for one thing, and one thing only. For man’s amusement and advancement. That she was nothing more than a plaything, worthy of nothing.
5 Chapter Five
“I don’t know how to get through to her,” Oliver said as he pounded his fists into the Nevatear.
Lucky stood off to the side. “You’re going to have to let things unfold naturally. Not force the issue, bro.”
Oliver slammed his hand into the bag, snapping it so hard it fell from the hook on the ceiling and thumped to the ground at their feet. “Easier said than done, bro.”
Lucky nodded. “I understand. Mate-bonding is tricky. On one hand, you have to balance your animal needs with your human mind, and on the other hand is the crazy urge to crush anyone who stands in the way of claiming your mate.”
Oliver wiped sweat from his face with a towel and looked at his friend with solemn eyes. “What if she doesn’t want me?”
“I doubt it’s that. I saw the way she eye-fucked you.”
Oliver shook his head. “The chemistry is there. I can feel it. But her mind is trapped, and that’s not something I’m equipped to handle.”
Lucky walked toward the bench press to spot. Oliver lifted hundred pound rounds onto the bar and lay down on the recline. Lucky said, “Sometimes all you can do is kill those that wronged her and pray she’ll heal from the damage. Love can overcome a lot of trauma, but it’s not a cure all.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Luck,” Oliver said, and exhaled the bar up, pumping the iron to rid his body of the wild energy.
“Honesty is the key to a happy relationship,” Lucky said, and smiled down at him, though his eyes were far away and focused on something other than Oliver. Lucky shook the thought and helped him lift the bar the last of the way as he neared twenty-five reps. Oliver’s heart beat a harsh staccato in his chest. The beast roared in his mind, showing his large, pointed teeth.
Yeah, yeah. I get it, buddy. Trust me. I want her too.
After their workout and sparring session, Oliver grabbed a meal from the kitchen and sat in the silence of his room to scarf down his grub. He knew everyone had secrets, and he was pretty sure Amaraynth had her fair share, but something irked him and didn’t make sense. He didn’t have any proof, just a feeling, but he’d learned long ago to trust his instincts. They’d yet to lead him astray. Something about her visit wasn’t right. It was like she was telling the truth, yet leaving something equally important out by omission.
And he was going to find out what.
Just as soon as his head cleared, his tiger calmed down, and he got some much needed sleep.
“So, this is your idea of playing it cool?” a familiar voice said as he slumbered in a dreamscape where a hot white leopard dozed in the sunlight by a cool pond, and he frolicked in the dark water.
Oliver blinked open an eye and stared at Cecelia, Lucky’s mate, in muted colors. He yawned.
Cecelia waived her hand in front of her face and said, “Damn dude, that’s some bad kitty breath. Better go brush your teeth and form two legs before your woman cracks this door and steps on you.”
Then Oliver noticed he was splayed in front of Amara’s door, lying on the floor with four paws and giant claws. He tilted his head a fraction and she ruffled the hair on his head.
“Yep, you’re a tiger, buddy. From the look on your face, I’m guessing you don’t remember shifting and stalking here.” She frowned. “Is that a common thing during bonding? Lucky did that shit a few times too, in the beginning. Thankfully we sorted it out. It got really funny finding him asleep in the oddest places in his quest to dominate me.”
The light footsteps from the other side of the door made him scramble up to stand, only since he wasn’t quite awake yet, his legs crossed and he swayed to the side, knocking over Cecelia who’d been crouched down beside him.
The door whooshed open and Amara’s face filled his vision. Her hair was plaited and she wore dark jeans, a ripped t-shirt with a logo he didn’t recognize, and shit kickers.He chortled.
Cecelia giggled behind him, and he rotated his face to see her lying on her back staring at the ceiling and banging her fist on the floor. “I forgot how fucking heavy you are, you bastard. Wait until I tell Lucky.”
“Are you trying to get him stabbed?” Amara said, causing him to turn back to her, mesmerized by her voice.
“No,” Lucky’s mate said, “but he’s ribbed me since I got here, and I think it’s about time he got some payback.”
“
You’re an unusual woman,” Amara noted, then stepped over Oliver’s tall back.
He hadn’t noticed he’d moved closer to her, drawn by her scent and the new need to rub his flank against her legs. He arched his back as she tried to get over him, and he ended up lifting her up off her feet. He decided to try and carry her where she needed to go, not wanting her body leaving his. The contact was necessary. Vital, even.
Her hands gripped his fur and she squealed. “Put me down, you oaf.”
Rather than risk her bailing off his back, he stopped and roared.
“Very scary,” Cecelia grumbled next to him, covering her ears. “I think he wants you to stay put,” she said to Amara. He couldn’t see what his mate did, but Cecelia rolled her eyes. “Think of it as a unique taxi ride, or, you can pretend you’re on a camel!”
“What the fuck?” Lucky’s voice called from down the hall. Oliver lifted his face, closed his mouth, then licked his chops.
Lucky shook his head, glanced to his right, and pointed at him. Hammer and Brick rounded the hallway, eyes bulged, and then all three men doubled over with laughter. Undeterred, Oliver tilted his head further up and sauntered right past the bastards, carrying his woman, feeling like the luckiest man on earth. Well, tiger, anyway.
That is, until the woman on his back started digging her heels into his side, then kicked him a few times and leapt off, bounding down the hall with laughter on her back.
He glanced back at his brothers who were still laughing their asses off, swished his tail at them, and took off after Amara.
He rounded the last corner with his head down and slammed into something hard. The momentum carried him further, his legs sliding out from under him on the linoleum, and he heaped into the wall. As he shook his head, he saw Amara grinning over her shoulder as she full out ran down the last hallway and burst through the main room’s doors.
The tiger was both irritated and amused by its mate’s ability to play, however, the human side wasn’t so enamored and started spouting how love shouldn’t be so hard, and whined about how it seemed so easy between his bonded brothers and their mates.
Rather than chase after his mate, he slowly walked toward his apartment so he could change back into a man, shower, and get dressed. Then he could deal with his dodgy mate and claim her proper.
6 Chapter Six
“That fucker is crazy,” Amara giggled to her sister as they ate at one of the small tables in the kitchen area of the club. There was a long wooden table with benches on either side, and a surplus of other round, rectangular, and oval tables with mismatched chairs. It made the space feel eclectic and homey. Not like the sterile environment she lived with back home.
“So he gave you a lift on his back?” Maura said with a brow raised, biting into her tuna sandwich.
“Yep.”
She mumbled around her food. “Interesting.”
“Not really, I think he was just fucking with me.”
Maura picked up her water and took a long swig before she shook her head and said, “I don’t know. He’s never mooned over a woman before, and I’ve known him a long time. He’s usually a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type.”
“Awesome,” Amara said and dropped her piece of fried chicken back onto the plate.
“Not like that. I meant he keeps everything clean but fun. No strings. Every girl knows the score.”
“Fucking club whores.”
“You said it, not me.” Maura grinned, showing her perfect white teeth. “You ready to talk now?”
Amara shifted her glance to the long bank of windows. “About what?”
“The real reason you’re here.”
Amara whipped her face to meet the gaze of her sister and swallowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve known you a long time, we’ve been through some shit together, you and I have, but I also know when you’re keeping something from me, and baby girl, right now, you are lying by omission and you know I can’t stand that.”
Years of practicing blank looks and confusion made it simple for Amara to school her face into an unreadable mask. “Don’t know what you're referring to, sister.”
Her sister drummed her fingers on the granite table and Amara waited.
She didn’t have to wait long as Maura said through clenched teeth, “What does Luther want you to do while you’re here?”
Amara tightened her hands into fists under the table in order to keep her temper in check. “Who’s asking? My sister, or the Inked Menace matriarch?”
Maura stilled and Amara met her intense glare, matching it with one of her own.
Neither of them noticed Brick standing in the open doorway to the kitchens, watching and listening, until he said, “I suggest you take this conversation elsewhere, ladies.”
Amara choked and snapped her gaze toward the now empty door. “Do you know who that was?”
Maura’s face turned thoughtful. “Indeed. It was the fire breather. He usually skulks around this place, though he generally keeps to himself.”
“What’s his deal? Can he be trusted?”
“Are your secrets so damaging we can’t share them with the club?” Maura raised both eyebrows, eyes widening, and her mouth opened a fraction.
“Is anyone else eavesdropping?”
Her sister stood, and on silent feet walked the perimeter, checking the doors and the kitchen, before she padded back and resumed sitting. “We’re clear.”
Amara inhaled, and with a vice clamped around her heart, said, “I was sent here to seduce a member and gather information about Lucky’s mate.”
Maura’s face remained neutral. It was part of the reason she was such a good alpha. “To what end?”
Amara shrugged. “I’m not sure. I was just supposed to send the info direct to Luth.”
“So why the indecision?”
“What makes you think I’m undecided?”
“That little pity party last night, amongst other things.”
That was a little too close to home for Amara, so she said nothing. Her sister picked up her food and continued eating, seeming not to care about the awkward silence filling the large room, making it feel much smaller and confining.
After a couple of minutes, Amara flung her hands up and whispered, “He complicates matters. That’s why.”
Maura wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “What are you going to do about it?” Gone was the best friend, the one she told her dreams and fears to, replaced by the club’s alpha.
“I don’t know.”
“You could just ask us the information you seek. We’ll probably just tell you.”
Luther was a right bastard, and she was almost positive he’d use the information for something nefarious, and from what she’d heard, Cecelia had already suffered enough. Amara didn’t need anymore demons haunting her nights.
Decision made, she said, “I owe him nothing. After he found me he didn’t offer to hunt them down and kill them. He didn’t ask my brothers for aid. No, he sat there and tried to figure out how he could also use me. I’m done being used.”
“You know you’re welcome here. We could put in for the transfer.”
Amara was already shaking her head. “Luther would never sign off. He’d never let me go.”
“Why not? It happens all the time.”
“Because I’m the best he’s got, and he knows it. Plus, I’ve worked damn hard to bloody get where I am. I’ll not give it up willy-nilly and just sign on to be a patch holder here.”
Maura dusted her hands together and stood. “Seeing as you already have this figured out, I guess there’s nothing else to say, then.” She started walking away.
Frustration hit Amara hard and she reached up and fussed with her hair. “Now you’re mad at me?”
Maura marched on and didn’t glance back. When she hit the back door, she shoved it open and kept going.
“Fuck,” Amara said, pushing soup around with her spoon as her mind spun in a hundred different direction
s. Her feet pressed into the cement floor until her toes grew numb.
The glowing watch face on her arm told her ten minutes had passed while she mulled all the strings people were pulling, almost as if she were surrounded by web-weaving spiders. But over-ruling them all was one strand of silver. The thread of fate.
Now, she needed to decide whether that fiber was worth fighting for or running from, and the only person who could make that decision, was her. And, well, Oliver.
7 Chapter Seven
“You’re a hard woman to track down,” Oliver said, plopping down next to Amara on a patch of grass under a large oak tree in the back of the park.
“If I’d wanted to be found, I’d have stayed at the club.”
Undeterred, Oliver shrugged. It had taken him about three hours to trail her from their warehouses to the main park. She’d positioned herself with her back to a tall tree with the woods behind her, children laughing while their parents watched.
“What do you want, Oliver?”
“To know why you’re out here, sulking.”
“I do not sulk.”
“What do you call it in your country, then? Wallowing? Self-pity? Oh, I know. You’re depressed. Now that’s just sad.”
“You know nothing about me,” she said and transferred her weight from one butt cheek to the other. Her ass was getting sore from sitting on the root of the tree under the enormous weight holding her down and nearly suffocating her.
“You’re right. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Why do you care?”
He reached out and clasped their hands together, tightening his grip when she went to pull away. “You know why I care. I know you feel the bond. It’s rather flimsy at the moment, but I’m hoping we can alleviate the stress of running from it.”
“What if I don’t want a mate-bond?”
Oliver’s stomach dropped, a hollow pit forming deep inside. It hurt and he wanted to lash out. “Fuck, you’re prickly. I understand though. Having gone through some of the horrific things you went through, you find it hard to trust.” He nodded, more to himself, trusting his instincts that he was on the right path. He continued. “We barely know each other, and it’s kind of a shock, the intensity between us. But I’m not going to give up without trying. It’s not in my nature, nor is it in my animal’s.”