by Rosalie Redd
As they walked into the room, Demir peered over his shoulder. His jaw clenched. He appeared torn.
“Don’t say it. I’m going to fight. You can’t stop me.” She ground her teeth together, her hands clenched at her sides.
“As if I thought I could.” He motioned for her to precede him. “After you.”
Affection spread warmth through her chest. He’d guard her back. She nodded and headed into the melee.
*****
Aramie launched herself at a nearby Gossum. Demir’s chest clenched, and fear snaked its way under his skin. His need to protect warred with his desire to respect her as a warrior. Deep inside, she was a fighter, always had been, but she was also his mated female. How could he take her need to be a warrior away from her?
A Gossum slithered toward him in it’s Panthera form. The creature was even more grotesque than usual. It snapped its long tongue in his face. He dodged the spiked tip, and pulled his dagger from his belt. The edge of the knife glinted in the soft light.
The Gossum lunged, scraping a pointy claw over Demir’s leg. Pain radiated up his thigh. Anger built in his chest. The energy fueled his rage. With a firm uppercut, he drove the tip of his knife into the creature’s throat, severing its head from its spine. The Gossum stiffened then slumped to the floor.
Several of his Pride fought in the enclosed space. Jonue dispatched a beast with her claw, severing its jugular. Leon bit a Gossum on the back of the neck. By all appearances, his Pride had the advantage. The battle was almost over.
Nearby, a Gossum in its altered Panthera state grunted, blood oozing from a scratch on its arm. The beast focused on Aramie, and a loud shriek burst from the injured creature’s throat.
Demir’s vision pinpointed. His heart pounded. One thought echoed in his mind—protect. He launched himself at the wounded beast.
Aramie beat him there. She gripped the creature’s injured arm and spun him to face Demir. Her eyes glinted with her conviction. “Take him, he’s yours.”
Demir plunged his dagger into the Gossum’s chest. The beast stilled, its black orbs staring at the ceiling. With its final breath, the creature morphed into a pile of sludge.
Not a single Gossum remained. Soft moans from the wounded filled the air.
Down the hallway, a door clicked shut. Demir raced into the hall and burst through the door, shoulder first. At the open window, a pair of curtains blew in the breeze.
In the distance, Jakar loped along the road leading into the mountains. Demir ached to pursue him, but wouldn’t leave his Pride, not while some had injuries which needed medical attention. He clenched his fist and returned to the living room.
A quick scan revealed the devastation from the fight. The couch sagged in the middle, its back broken in two. Wood from the busted coffee table and shattered glass from the hutch littered the paisley carpet. A DVD of The Shining lay on the floor, evil Jack’s grin fitting right into the scene.
Members of his Pride congregated, attending the wounded. There were as many females as males—some mated.
“Did we lose anyone?” Demir held his breath.
“No, thanks to the mated females.” Hallan peered at Demir, then placed his arm around Jonue and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “My mate and I had a long talk. We convinced Leon to come as an entire Pride—including mated females—to fight the Gossum. Forgive us for breaking old traditions.”
“I’m glad we found you, Pride leader.” Leon bent his head in submission.
Demir studied the males then glanced at Jonue. The battle would’ve had a different outcome if not for the mated females. Had he been wrong all these years to prevent mated females from fighting? A knot formed in his throat. Apparently so.
“Everyone fought well tonight, everyone.” He made eye contact with each of the mated females in the group, giving his praise and acceptance.
A tense quiet filled the room.
Demir took a step forward, into the middle of the group. “I always boasted myself on my judgment, for doing what I thought best for the entire Pride.” He wiped his hand over his face, and exhaled. “I’ve made mistakes, plenty of them. The biggest one—believing mated females shouldn’t fight. I’m going to rectify that, right now.”
He held out his hand to Aramie.
She straightened her back and met his gaze. Pride filled him. He felt bigger, taller, stronger than he’d ever been in his life. Strength wasn’t about control or physical toughness. True strength came from within and was about self-confidence, faith and trust in others.
Realization dawned on him. His father had made mistakes as well, trying to do what he believed was best for his son, teaching him how to fight and defend his Pride. No one was perfect, everyone made mistakes, and everybody deserved a chance at forgiveness. Although he’d been viciously abused by his father, a wave of understanding for the male bubbled up inside.
Aramie placed her hand in his, her warm skin sending spikes of desire through his body. He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. “Aramie, my mated female, I’ve wronged you most of all. I should’ve trusted your judgment, but instead, my disdain and need for control clouded my decisions.”
Her gaze darted back and forth as she studied him. Love for her welled up inside and Demir’s throat tightened. “Aramie, would you forgive my arrogant, chauvinistic attitude and return as my second in command?”
Her eyes widened, and her grip in his hands tightened. A slight smirk crossed her face. “Demir, my mated male, of course I forgive you. How could I be anything but your second in command?”
He blinked. Laughing, he pulled her into his embrace, her strawberry scent filling his senses. Shouts and claps erupted from the Pride.
As the joyful cheers quieted and he released her, a sense of wholeness enveloped his heart.
Through the gingham curtains, the night sky carried a slight tint of dawn. They needed to return to the Keep. Demir looked at his family, his Pride. “Let’s go home. Who wants to celebrate?”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Tanen walked down the hallway, the weight in his pocket messing with his mind. He passed a Jixie with a nearly empty tray. Only a few crumbs of the garlic bread remained. She glanced at him and nodded a greeting. He grunted a reply. Words were so not an option right now.
He’d have to come around soon though. He needed to tell Mauree about her fate. The long corridor went on for miles, passageways branching off in all directions, but he stayed focused on his task. Others passed by, but he didn’t pay attention to them other than a casual “hi” or “hello.”
The old thrill of getting away with the theft made him feel in control once again. He hadn’t felt this good about himself in a very long time. His inner beast savored the theft, vying to break free.
While his mind fed on visions of the stone, his feet kept up their pace. He turned at all the appropriate intersections. The number of others roaming the corridors diminished. As he moved deeper into the Keep, a cool dampness permeated his skin.
He rounded the corner into the stronghold sector and stopped. With tentative care, he pulled the decree out of his coat. A need to touch the crystal raced over his fingers, and before he could stop himself, he thrust his hand deep into his pocket. The rough edges of the stone were a sweet potion, and a shiver of delight ran up his arm. Pulling on his strength of will, he returned his focus to his task and let go of his treasure. Unfolding the paper, he reread the summons written in Noeh’s cuneiform handwriting.
For treason against the Stiyaha, Mauree, daughter of Wrinton and Sade, you shall be beheaded on the morrow at nightfall.
King Noeh
Short and to the point, how like His Majesty.
Tanen folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. A coil of dread formed inside, sending a wave of nausea up his throat. Damn heartburn.
In the distance, an object lay on the ground—something right outside Mauree’s cell. Unease rippled over his shoulders. Water trickled over stones, the s
ound loud in the quiet corridor.
He bolted down the hall. The tail of his shirt lifted from his pants. Wisps of hair tickled his forehead, his perfect strands falling around his ears.
As he approached her cell, the object on the ground became discernible. A padlock. His heartbeat increased, pounding in his ears.
“Mauree!” His yell went unanswered.
He slowed as he approached. The bars on her door were slightly ajar. He didn’t need to look inside to know she was gone, but he couldn’t stop himself. The empty space was a mockery to him. As council leader, he was responsible for her escape.
A shudder ran over his back. Sweat broke out on his skin. His collar bit into his neck. He wrestled with the button, breaking it off in his attempt to free himself from its confinement.
A moan escaped his lips. The sound echoed along the corridor, amplified again and again, beating on his psyche. His cheeks burned from his shame. She’d escaped on his watch. He’d never live this down.
He wiped his hand over his face. A loud exhale left his lungs. Now what? And wasn’t that the question of the hour.
Once Noeh heard Mauree had escaped, he’d be angry. Tanen gripped his collar, scrunching the material tight around his throat. He wouldn’t be able to handle the look of disappointment in the king’s eyes. Tanen shook his head. Oh, craya, no.
A small breeze blew from the gloomy end of the corridor. The faint scent of roses filled his senses. Mauree. Without a second thought, he ran down the hallway in hot pursuit.
Chapter Fifty
After a good shower, Demir had stopped off at the party. The meat sandwiches and spiced ale had been exceptional, but he’d been too preoccupied with Aramie to imbibe much. She’d smelled of her own recent shower and fidgeting with frustration, he’d encouraged her to leave with him. That wasn’t hard to do. She’d been eyeing him as well.
As they approached his quarters, he couldn’t wait to get Aramie alone. Her strawberry scent made him wild, frenzied. The doorknob shook in his hand, putting up a fight, stalling him. He gripped the metal, twisting harder than was necessary. The door opened with a squeak, and he rushed her across the entrance.
Slamming the door with his heel, he pushed her against the wood. Caged between his arms, her warm breath tickled his cheek. She growled, and the sound reverberated from her chest to his, inflaming his desire.
“Demir…” Her lips parted, her canines extending from her mouth.
Her blatant display of need made his heart race. He answered her, his own growl low and demanding.
Grasping her head in his palms, he captured her lips in a lingering kiss. Her sweet taste wove into his senses and was now forever engrained in his mind. Their frantic kisses ignited the passion between them, escalating their combined need.
Trailing kisses down her throat, his teeth grazed over the tiny scar he’d given her on her neck. His lungs swelled as a sense of contentment filled him, making him smile. He licked the tender skin. The slight taste of her sweat tickled his tongue. A slow groan eased from her throat, and she relaxed under his gentle assault.
She threaded her hands in his hair and freed the strands from his short queue. Her nails scratched his scalp, her fingers raking along his sensitive nerves. She pressed her firm breasts against his chest, but their clothing prevented the skin on skin contact he craved. He gazed into her eyes. “Aramie…you are so beautiful…”
She bit her bottom lip, and his shaft jumped in response.
My female. His heart swelled. He loved her deeply.
She pushed against him, forcing him back. He released her, and the insurmountable distance seemed like a giant crevasse between them.
A sexy smile pulled at her lips. The skin around her eyes creased, and the yellow slits of her irises gave away her own need. She gripped the bottom of his T-shirt and gently tugged. The back of her fingers grazed his abdomen and tickled the fine hairs that led to his genitals. Her touch woke up more than his nerves, further hardening his already enlarged member.
He raised his arms, eager to shed the confining cloth. The shirt flew over his head and landed on the floor. Good riddance. Now—her turn.
He ran his hands along her arms to her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell with each hurried breath. Using his index finger, he traced the edge of her shirt along her collarbone and circled the spot near the dip in her neck. With a sly smile, she pulled off her own shirt in a slow tease.
His gaze followed the pink strap of her bra to the bright yellow cups. Despite her slender frame, her firm breasts filled the brassiere to capacity. He glanced at her eyes. She watched him, waiting for his reaction.
He smiled, and he raised his eyebrow, giving her an appreciative stare. He placed his finger under one of the straps and lifted it off her shoulder. The loose material dangled on her arm, revealing the rounded edge of her breast. His erection jerked in response.
“Release me,” she whispered.
Warmth spread throughout his body, and his skin prickled along his arms. He couldn’t deny her request. Placing his palms on her waist, her warm, smooth skin was soft to his touch. He trailed his fingers up her back and unhooked the clasp. The bra slid to the floor.
He leaned back to admire her breasts. Dark areolas circled taut nipples that begged for his mouth. She shivered and goosebumps formed on her skin.
Before he could act on his thoughts, she placed her hands on his pecs. A slow smile broke across her pretty face, and she shook her head.
Her hands slid down his chest to his abs, lighting up his skin everywhere she touched. She stopped at his belt and tugged.
Oh, gods, yes. He helped her with the buckle and the buttons of his fly. His pants—they couldn’t come off fast enough.
She stared at him, her eyes wide. His cock, strained tight, reached for her as if the appendage could get to her without him. He swallowed, and his shaft bobbed at the movement.
“Oh, my…” Her grin was all feminine appreciation.
His heart and his shaft swelled with pride.
She kneeled in front of him, trailing her fingers down his thighs. With the tips of her fingers, she played with the fine hairs around his balls. She purposefully didn’t touch his shaft, teasing him, making him ache for contact.
“Aramie,” he groaned, “you torment me.”
She giggled, and her mouth was so close to the tip of his shaft, he felt the vibration. The sensation drove him mad. Considering all the torture he’d been through, this was the only kind he craved.
She blew a soft breath across his erection. His skin tingled and he tightened his grip on her shoulders. A low moan eased from his chest.
Starting at the base of his shaft, she licked him, her tongue lapping him all the way to the tip. A bead of arousal glistened on the end. He shuddered. “Aramie…”
She took him into her mouth, easing him in and out in a slow rhythm. With a quick flick, she swirled her tongue around the tip and he couldn’t take anymore.
He pulled her to a standing position and kissed her. His salty taste mixed with her strawberry essence. His cat howled inside, eager for more. When he released her, their combined pants echoed in the room. He kissed the tip of her nose, and she smiled, determination forming in the lines around her eyes.
He pointed at her pants and raised an eyebrow.
She giggled. Kicking off her shoes, she wiggled out of her black pants, swirling her hips, teasing him in a sensuous dance. Naked, she about brought him to his knees.
“Aramie…” His words stuck in his throat.
With feline grace all bottled up in her body, she sauntered toward him. Placing her hands on his pecs, she encouraged him to back up, angling him toward the bed.
Understanding her direction, he gripped her arms and pulled her along. They landed on the bed in a heap.
The bed broke beneath them. Small splinters of wood from the split headboard rained down upon them, prickling the skin on his thighs and arms. He inhaled, and the scent of oak permeated his sensitive no
se.
Aramie’s laughter reverberated in her chest, the gentle rhythm pulsing against him, making him smile.
“Well, good. I hated this bed anyway.” He rolled on top of her, caging her between his arms. His arousal pressed against the soft hairs at her entrance. The fine mane tickled him, stroking his desire.
She ran her fingers up his arms, the contact lighting his skin on fire. As her hands passed over his shoulder, he stiffened, his reflexes honed from years of practice.
Wide-eyed, she stared at him.
His need to control every aspect of their lovemaking burned in his gut. He’d never willingly allowed anyone to touch the scars on his back. But she wasn’t anyone. She was his mated female. He swallowed. A part of him wanted to give in, let her touch him, but the centuries of hiding the emotional damage still weighed on his soul, like a bad memory.
Her eyes filled with unshed tears, but her smile was all pride. She trailed a finger over his cheek and caressed his goatee. The sensation calmed him, reminded him how much he’d enjoyed her touch when he’d been in his coma.
“You are the strongest male I know, in here.” She placed her hand over his heart. “I’m so proud of you.”
His chest swelled. Her love for him almost broke him apart. He’d do anything for her…anything.
“Can I touch them?”
In the past, her question would’ve angered him, and he would’ve refused her request. But somehow, she’d tamed him. He let go of his fear, and a great weight lifted from him. The scars on his back would never heal, but the emotional wounds on his soul would be mended by Aramie’s love.
He couldn’t speak, so he nodded.
Her fingers trailed over his shoulders and down his back. When she reached the tip of the first scar, she traced the raised skin over his hip and buttocks. Goosebumps rose along the path in her wake, but not from distaste. On the contrary, her touch lit a fire inside him.
She purred as she explored him, touching everywhere on his back and buttocks. When her hands finally stilled at the base of his neck, she pulled him to her and gave him a powerful, possessive kiss. He responded in kind, matching her intensity, stride for stride.