by Kyle, Celia
Tess nodded. “She blames me. If those men couldn’t have me, they went after her. Alistair made us travel together then, thought it was hilarious that she tried to kill me nearly every day. He never let her get in more than a few swipes, but it amused him.”
“So she’s still trying.” His face no longer held the gentle lines she’d memorized, but had now hardened and sharpened. Yes, the kitty was pushing for a chance to come out and play.
“Yeah,” she shrugged. It was what it was. Thirteen years taught her that it wasn’t likely to change. “It was worse this time because I went after her and managed to get in a good swipe before Stone separated us. He knows of our…animosity. He just doesn’t have anywhere else to put me. I figure the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. Jackie will always be after me.”
“Damn it, Tess.” More growls tinged his words.
“Let it go, Harding. I know you’re here to keep us all safe.” She gestured around her room. “This is me being safe. Sooner or later the Council will get things settled and then they can lock me away in another room, away from people who don’t want me dead.” Not that she thought they would find such a place, but she hoped. She hadn’t had any in years, but it had started growing deep within her.
Harding released the chair and brought his hands to his temple, rubbing small circles over the bone. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
Tess tilted her head to the side, watching the man and noticing things she’d missed before. There were lines of tension marring his lips, his eyes half-closed, and the tightness of his jaw showed a stress that couldn’t be just from her words.
Damn it.
“You’re still hurting.” It was a statement, an expression of the truth. “From that first day.”
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse, more of the cat coming out to play. But she didn’t sense aggression or a threat coming from the beast. No, now that she was paying attention, pain was all she felt. Pain tinged with a hint of someone other. A person she knew?
Pushing to her feet, she padded across the room, ignoring every warning bell that sounded within her. Hurting animals were dangerous, deadly. Even shifters were known to strike out when injured. This wasn’t physical damage, but it was no less painful.
She stepped between his outstretched legs, ignoring the seductive scent surrounding her. His body called to her, urging her to slide onto his lap and hold him close. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she figured out who was trying to drive him insane. Millie was strong, but not this strong. It’d been four days since he’d arrived, and still his pain continued.
With a flick, she pushed his hands aside and replaced his fingers with her own.
It was a gentle touch that pulled a deep snarl from his chest. “Tess.”
“Hush.” Her fingertips rested on his temples, and then she did something she hadn’t done in years: she opened herself.
To Harding’s pain… To someone’s hate… To a presence that was eerily familiar, yet not.
* * *
The word had barely left Tess’s mouth before pure peace settled over Harding. A sweetness he’d never experienced washed through him and gentle, ethereal hands stroked him from inside out.
The aches and pains of the last few days drifted from his body as if they’d never existed. He reveled in the sudden relief, his cat relaxing as the hammering ache slithered from him. The lion stretched and purred, sliding through his mind in a newfound contentment.
He sensed his mate. Her ghost-like presence floated through him as if she’d always belonged there. Then again, she did. She was his mate, his one and only, and she was destined to share every part of him.
Possessiveness and want got his beast to its feet, the cat suddenly aware that its quarry was within reach. The cat couldn’t claim her physical body, but coating her in its mental scent was still available.
The lion padded through him, hunting up the scent of sensual sweetness that embodied Tess. It took moments to locate her within him, and he head butted her barely-there body. A giggle echoed through him, and then near-invisible hands dug into his fur, stroking and petting him. He rubbed his muzzle against her, making sure that he transferred as much of his pheromones onto her as possible.
She moved away. He followed, trailing after her like the lovesick cub he was. He knew that her physical body was close, but her mental presence was even closer. The cat’s purr grew with every step, every stroke of her hand across his fur, each scratch behind his ear. When she stopped, he stopped, mirroring her path, uncaring of her destination.
Nothing mattered but being near her.
“Harding?” Her lyrical voice echoed within him.
Could he respond to her?
“Yes, you can.” Another laugh. “Just think. Imagine you’re talking to me. I can hear you.”
This was a different Tess than the one that normally stood before him. Her happiness came easily, her smiles bright. She didn’t respond to his thought, and he hoped she hadn’t caught it in her web.
What are you doing? He tried speaking directly to her.
“Hunting. Gimme a sec.” Tess traveled deeper into him, striding along the twisting and turning hallways of his mind.
She went around one corner and the next, passing the various rooms where he’d tucked his memories. He kept them separate, hiding the experiences that he never wanted to revisit.
“Damn, Harding.” Tess stepped around a towering pile of papers, and the lion tripped over them as it passed.
A jarring tremble hit him, memories of high school overtaking him in a rolling wave. God, not them. He’d forgotten about those snippets. General daily bits weren’t bad, but there were parts. Parts that came after…
Instead of passing the mess by, Tess paused and turned toward them, hands outstretched, and Harding could do nothing but hold his breath. He didn’t know how to interact with her inside him, and the cat didn’t seem inclined to stop her.
Wait.
But she didn’t wait. No, she tucked a few together, glancing at the top page before reforming the stack, and then froze in place. Her body shook, chest rising and falling in an ever-increasing rhythm. She reached out for the lion, fingers digging into its fur, and slumped against the cat.
“Harding? Oh, God, Harding…” Her mental voice was hoarse and strained.
He shied away from what she reviewed. He knew each bit by heart, every hurt and burst of agony forever branded into his skin. The lion brushed against her, nosing her hands, and the sheaves flowed to the ground. A glance at her face revealed glistening tears, the shining droplets sliding over her cheeks, and he cursed his inability to create a human-shaped body within his own mind. He ached to tug her close, wrap her in his arms, and tell her that none of it mattered. Nothing beyond her was worth a thought. Every bit that had been broken was slowly healing now that he had his mate near.
“This…” Tess waved to the scattered remnants of his high school years. “This is so beyond…”
It doesn’t matter, Tess.
“How can you say that? How—?”
Her words were silenced by a stab of pain that rocketed through him. His cat roared in protest, snarling at their hidden enemy, and suddenly it wasn’t sweet Tess within him. She transformed. The tears disappeared, and the smiles she’d flashed moments ago were wiped away as if they’d never existed.
She looked feral now, all pretenses of civility banished with the new attack on him. She spun on her heel and sped through the twisted halls of his mind, grumbling all the while. The cat, as well as his own consciousness, raced after her. The beast went from a gentle, loping run to an all-out sprint. She dashed around obstacle after obstacle, chasing his agony.
It was all mental, she’d given him those words before, but they did nothing to comfort the debilitating pain.
The lion roared, the sound shaking his memories, forcing doors long sealed to burst open. Now his past chased them as well.
They bolted around turns and sprinted until they emerged in
to the lion’s lair. The cat wasn’t encumbered by Harding’s memories. It lived in a space blessedly free of it all.
Tess spun, attention centered solely on the area surrounding them. “He’s here, Harding. Here. Someone dared trespass on what is mine…”
A rumbling growl shook him, even the cat crouching in agitation as the sound vibrated his entire world. The beast trembled with the rising intensity and Harding couldn’t blame it. The growl transformed into an inhuman roar that became an earthquake of noise and at the epicenter stood Tess. The timid smiles and shyness were gone, replaced by a woman that defied description. Her ethereal body solidified, the translucence filling until her body formed. She was bathed in glowing white light, the sight nearly blinding.
The crescendo of her roar deafened him while the glow stole his sight. As quickly as the pain began, it was suddenly gone, lost in Tess’s outrage. In an instant, the light disappeared, and darkness settled around them once again. Only…only Tess was no longer at the center of his world.
With a gasp, Harding opened his eyes and blinked against the sudden brightness. With reflexes borne of his cat, he managed to catch an unconscious Tess before she slumped to the ground. As if she were made of the thinnest glass, he held her close to him. His mind still reeled, not quite comprehending what had just occurred, but above it all, he knew Tess needed him.
Carefully, he rose and carried her to the small bed against the wall. His balance sucked, but he managed to get Tess to the soft surface without dropping her and falling on his face. Thank God for miracles.
Harding slid her onto the mattress, but his arms didn’t want to release her and his cat begged him not to let go. She was so tiny compared to him, a curvy slip of a woman.
One who’d somehow banished whatever pain lingered within him. He felt perfect, unharmed by what had been happening for the past several days. There were no aches and twinges marring his movements. The agony that had become a companion was no longer attacking him. With her scream, her burst of rage, she’d gotten rid of it all.
Her scream…
“Someone dared trespass on mine…”
It was too much to hope that her definition of “mine” and his were the same.
He withdrew his arms from beneath her but didn’t move away. With a gentle touch, he brushed her hair aside, giving him a clear view of the curve of her cheek and sweep of her neck. He wanted to nibble her there, lick and taste, then bite. A claiming bite. Yes, he couldn’t wait for that, though he had a feeling lush Tess wouldn’t be falling into his arms anytime soon.
The relaxed expression on her face eased his worry. Tess didn’t appear to be harmed by what had just occurred, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. He’d go to the infirmary and grab the doc, drag him here to her room if necessary. He wanted her checked out. Period. Patting his pocket, he confirmed he still had the key. Good. He could lock her in, protecting her from Jackie while he fetched someone.
One last look at her alluring features and he realized he couldn’t resist her. He couldn’t leave, not without a simple…
Harding leaned over her, bracketing her with his arms while he lowered his face. He brushed a whisper-soft, chaste kiss across her brow. The lion encouraged him, urged him to lie down and pull the sleeping woman into his arms. Apparently, the cat didn’t care if he had an invitation or not.
But he resisted the beast. Slowly he eased away, intent on putting space between them only…only Tess’s arms wrapped around his neck and tugged him closer.
A low murmur was on her lips, but the words were unmistakable. “Harding… Stay…”
“Tess…” His resolve was faltering beneath his human half’s desire to be close to her and his beast’s outright demands that he stay put. “I need to get a doc, sweet.”
She turned her head and nuzzled him. “No. Fine. Sleepy. Stay.”
“You can’t even speak in complete sentences, Tess.”
She growled and nipped his wrist. “Stay.”
With a sigh, he relented. “Lemme scoot you over.”
She grinned, her eyes still closed, and he slid her across the mattress until she was against the wall. He settled at her side, and she curled against him, fitting her luscious curves along the hard planes of his body as if she belonged there.
Then again. She did.
“Someone dared trespass on what is mine…”
Maybe she realized it, too.
* * *
Tess was shaken. Her body and mind had yet to sync and slide into one. Right now she operated on instinct. And instinct demanded that Harding stay with her, that he was safe.
Safety had been so long in coming. Stone had done his best, but he hadn’t pounced between Jackie and her, hadn’t run off the homicidal bitch. Nope, the gorilla had talked, and talked, and talked about playing well with others. The man had tiptoed around the five of them, afraid of sending one of them over the edge.
Harding’s pain lingered in the air. Oh, it lessened and dispersed with every passing breath, but its memory still floated around them.
Tess tasted its essence, and the psychic residue of Harding’s attacker rolled through her mind. She noticed hints of Millie’s assault from days ago, sensed the shifter’s presence, but it was clouded by something—someone—else. She let the flavors tumble over her tongue as she sought the source in her memories. Right now, she wasn’t liking what she was finding.
She hugged Harding tighter, welcoming the squeeze that he gave her in response. “You okay?”
Tess nuzzled his chest, the after effects of her journey into his mind still making it difficult to form words. “Mmm…”
Harding chuckled, and then his chest stilled. “I really should get you to a doc, Tess.”
“Won’t help.” She settled deeper into his embrace with a contented sigh. God, when had she ever felt so safe?
The answer was easy: never.
“Tess…”
“Gimme a minute. Need to hunt in my head.” She knew he didn’t understand, but she couldn’t take the time to explain, not while the stranger’s scent was still so fresh. It tickled at her memory, teasing and taunting her.
She delved into her past, sought out what she needed. Unlike Harding, her mind was organized, memories tucked neatly into filing cabinets, each labeled with bits of time. With so many voices battering her day in and day out, she’d needed some semblance of order so she could function. Every interaction, each confrontation was tucked away somewhere amongst the files.
Tess padded along the length of the first row, ticking off the years. Those were simply retellings of what had happened to her, nothing extraordinary or particularly painful. Just…events. The next row held individuals: those who had hurt her repeatedly and heaped trauma after trauma upon her. She shied away from Alistair’s cabinet, unwilling to be caught in the web of his abuse. No, Harding’s aggressor wasn’t Alistair. Her father was dead. She needed to remember that. But knowing that he was gone didn’t lessen her fear of him.
Unbidden, the polar bear’s actions assaulted her. His fists pummeled her, and bone-shaking snarls vibrated through her body. She whimpered and eased away from the metal box, her body trembling in fear, but it still attacked her. She’d kept it locked up tight, and still his presence loomed before her.
A soft brush of lips against her temple preceded low, whispered words. “Easy, I’ve got you. Shh…” Harding. Harding had her. She gulped and burrowed into his side, twining her legs with his. She wanted to crawl inside him and welcome the safety he represented. His arms tightened and drew her half across him as if sensing her need to be even closer. “I’ve got you, Tess. Won’t let you go.”
Assured of his protection, she dashed away from the memories of her father, racing down the row until she reached the very end. There was what she hunted. She had her own catalog of Sensitives and psychics she’d encountered in her lifetime. She reached for the drawer, intent on exploring her memories, except… Except there was a new box nearby.
Small
and compact, it was cardboard while others were made of steel. Brow furrowed, she dropped to her knees and looked the small container over. This wasn’t something she built. At least, not consciously. She reached for the top and slid it off with ease. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she would find. Then her heart stilled.
It was a box, all right. A box filled with memories of Harding. Only a handful of them occupied the small space, but what floored her was their existence at all. She flipped through the thoughts… Smiles… The twinkling of his eyes… The sensual heat that entered his gaze when he stepped into her room… The mere idea of sex with Harding had her shivering, and a low pulse of arousal slithered through her. She shuddered, her physical body mirroring her mind.
Another brush of Harding’s lips graced her temple, reminding her that he was so close, his arms around her while she slumped over his body. Eyes closed, she tilted her head back in invitation. When she sensed his next descent, she stretched for him and welcomed his touch. His mouth pressed against hers, tentatively at first, but then he increased the pressure. One soft kiss became two, became four. His scent enveloped her, and she was surrounded by him, wrapped in a bundle of growing desire and safety.
He flicked her lips with his tongue, and she didn’t hesitate to open for him. Sex, kissing, was new to her, but she’d watched enough television to understand what they were doing. His flavors exploded over her tongue as he swept into her mouth. She mimicked his actions, delving into him and hunting for more of his taste. Heated musk and man met her, and she wanted more.
She clutched him, holding tight while he taught her what it was to kiss someone. She wiggled and writhed, fought to push closer, climb higher, in order to better reach his mouth. She moaned against his lips and tangled her tongue with his, suckling and licking him in turn. Parts of her body she’d never truly explored heated with each passing second. Sexual warmth surrounded her, them, and she wanted more.
Her pussy warmed, growing heavy and aching with unfulfilled desire. She wanted…something. She’d touched herself before, explored her body, but this need was new. The feral part of her, the bits she’d inherited from Alistair, flared to life and demanded that she succumb to the lion beneath her. The beast pounded against her control, and a disconnected roar echoed through her mind. The bear was a piece of her, yet not, and she refused to listen. At least, not fully.