by Kyle, Celia
With that, she faded, floating body thinning until barely a hint of her remained.
And then he waited, time ticking past as his lion paced around what was left of Tess. The cat was not pleased with her sliding away, leaving herself vulnerable to the other woman. It knew of the attacks on Tess, the way the shifter had tried to harm what belonged to them. No, it detested Jackie and more than once had urged Harding to do something about the woman. Its recommendation was to eat her, but the cat would have been happy with killing her outright.
An odd sensation overtook him, like ants crawling over his skin, pricking him with every step. He shuddered and shivered, wishing the feelings away, but instead the sensations grew. Then the thoughts came, the experiences, the horrors…
A stranger backhanded him, a leer on his face, and he wiped away the spot of blood that escaped his lip. Then it was rape, the pain and agony of being violated…
Jackie.
This time a true beating, bones breaking and skin bursting with each strike. His inner-beast howled but remained restrained by…someone.
That had been the first attack. The encounter just before Tess’s appearance changed both of their lives.
Whispered voices invaded, endearments, sweet nothings, coos and pet names. This was a hint of happiness in the blackness of Jackie’s mind. Large hands stroked him, and he brought his gaze to…
The memory faded before he could glimpse the person that had made her happy.
It was the only glimpse of joy that Harding received.
More of Jackie’s past assaulted him. Conversations flitted to him as if on fast forward, the words were recognizable yet not.
Love. Hate. Tess. Die. Pleasure. Pain.
It all spun round and round, his memories seeming to twine with Jackie’s until he couldn’t separate one from the other.
Jackie’s beating became his, yet different.
He recalled lying on the ground, surrounded by his pride, his uncle now Prime. They beat him. Shouting that his father couldn’t protect him any longer. He was an abomination. White cats were weak, didn’t deserve to live. Claws sliced through his skin with exacting precision, and the bearers left him to die.
Then it switched to Alistair looking into his eyes and flashing an evil grin as he called him a whore and spit in his face.
No. That wasn’t right. Alistair hadn’t been there. That must have come from Jackie. And they hadn’t left him. Not really. They’d tied him down, cutting him over and over for days until…
The scene tumbled into another… Alistair screaming, ranting and raving and threatening…Tess. Blood tumbled from his mate’s lips, and he was filled with smug satisfaction. No, he wouldn’t feel that way, but Jackie would. Harding’s cat roared and snarled at that memory, demanding that he do something.
But he couldn’t. Not until Tess returned and released them all. Then he could turn on the woman who had harmed their mate.
More of the past spun by, the tone gradually changing from fear and pain to a mixture of hate, rage, and joy. Images of Jackie meeting with Alistair and others came to him. The woman no longer cowering in fear, but standing beside those that had harmed her. Triumph filled her.
Ah. They’d come to the end, the heart of the matter, and Harding briefly wondered if he was interpreting what he was seeing correctly.
Then his world transformed, swirled and showed him proof of the woman’s allegiance. Jackie had been present for Maddy’s abduction, hidden in the shadows. She’d tormented Elise while the fox was with Freedom. She’d even been in the farmhouse where Deuce had been held, had eventually gone to Alistair’s side after Elly had killed the polar bear.
The woman was neck deep in Freedom’s evil illegal affairs, and now she’d be handled. Had she lived through a tormented past? Of course. But she’d also sided with Alistair and furthered the man’s crimes.
Tess. Come back.
“Just a minute.” Her voice was so strained, so soft in his turbulent mind.
Let go, Tess.
“Just a—”
He felt himself losing her, the ghost-like outline of her body fading even further from his view. The lion roared, shaking his entire world with the force. The cat scratched and clawed at him, demanding that Harding take action to secure what belonged to them. He was failing, not protecting their mate, letting her be hurt, and he wouldn’t have it.
Harding growled. She was stubborn, and he knew she wasn’t about to come back without a fight. The beast was in agreement, their thoughts one. It nudged what was left of Tess and took her nearly gone wrist into its mouth. The cat looked to him, pleading with him to get their mate to return. She had ferreted out the information they needed. There was no sense in delaying.
Now. He couldn’t have withheld the command to save his life.
“Just—”
You’re my mate, and I want your happy ass out of her right now! The lion added his own roar and bit down on Tess’s wrist, yanking on her ethereal body. Had the woman been whole, the cat would have snapped the bones in two with ease.
All thoughts stilled, a void of nothingness wrapping around it all and sucking them into a vacuum. He felt the snap of Tess returning and then slipping out of him. True consciousness returned, and he opened eyes he didn’t remember closing.
To his right, Jackie sat in the chair, eyes glowing amber and a hiss escaping her lips. The snarling growl filled the air.
To his left, he found a dazed Tess staring at him, her eyes wide yet unseeing.
“Mate?” The word was thin and reedy.
“Mate.” He jerked his head in a quick nod, confirming his answer.
“Oh.” With that, her lashes fluttered and she collapsed into herself, body going limp.
Harding snatched her to him before she could hit the ground and he held her to his side with one arm. It was then he realized he still held fast to Jackie, the female now reaching toward Tess with razor-sharp claws. Without hesitation, he used his strength to yank her to the side, flinging her tense body against the opposite wall. He bellowed to the guards outside the room, his roar echoing off the thick walls, and one of the men burst through the door.
“Sir?”
Harding waved toward a crumpled Jackie. “Secure her.”
“Sir?” This time it truly was a question, a reaffirming of his order, because they’d all been careful of the women since their arrival. These were the battered and abused and were to be treated with kid gloves. With Jackie, he was over that shit.
“Now. She stays in her room. Two guards outside the door.” Harding didn’t spare a glance for the other shifter, too concerned over Tess. More and more of her weight rested against him. The moment a hissing and spitting Jackie was yanked from the room, he swung his mate into his arms.
Careful of his precious cargo, he slid her onto the bed, easing her over until she was near the wall and farthest from the door. As soon as he had her situated, he crawled in beside her and then tugged her against him. She was passed out—again—and he wouldn’t leave her until she woke.
Holding her after she passed out seemed to be becoming a habit.
* * *
Waking up in Harding’s arms seemed to have become a habit.
His scent surrounded Tess, the earthy smells of musk and man enveloping her in their comforting embrace. She snuffled and moaned, burying her face against his chest. Muscles shifted and tensed beneath her cheek, but otherwise he remained motionless. She gave herself a moment to enjoy his embrace before all hell broke loose. She knew there were things to be said, arguments to be had, but she wanted to delay as long as possible.
She snuggled closer, aligning her curves to his hard planes, and sank into him. He was so hard and tough, so grumbly and growly, but she’d seen it all now. The good and bad—mostly bad—had played out before her as she dug through Jackie’s past. She’d never chanced a connection like they’d shared. While it hadn’t gone well, it hadn’t rendered anyone brain dead either. At least, she didn’t think so.<
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Those strong arms tightened ever so slightly around her, giving her a gentle hug, and she knew her time was running short. She could avoid him for only so long. Unfortunately.
He stroked her back, sliding his arm along the length of her spine. Up and down, he soothed her, petting her until she felt like a happy kitten, just on the verge of releasing a purr. Instead, she gave him one last nuzzle and then sighed, easing away from him. Except he wasn’t having it. He held her tighter, not giving her the opportunity to separate them.
“Harding…” She pushed again.
“Nope. If I let you go, you’ll run, and I think we’ve got a few things to talk about.”
“I’m thinking no. M’kay, buh-bye.” She shoved at him, a hint of panic aiding her movements. Talking was bad. Talking would reveal feelings, and she’d had enough of baring her soul for the day.
Suddenly, Harding rolled them, placing his much larger body above hers and easily trapping her beneath him. “I’m thinking yes, Tess.”
She snorted. “You’re a poet and didn’t know it.” She poked at his shoulder. “Now, lemme go, and we can forget…everything.”
But…but his pale blue eyes darkened, his expression turning serious while he stared down at her. With a delicate brush of his fingertips, he nudged aside wayward strands of her hair. The barely-there touch sent a frisson of heat down her spine, and she couldn’t have suppressed the soft shiver that raced through her if her life depended on it.
“Tess…”
Why, why, why did she have to find a mate? Shifters spent their lives looking for their other halves, and she’d always prayed that no one would want her. Not with the risk of what she could become after mating. There was no telling… Tess’s heart broke, sharp bolts of pain overwhelming her as it splintered and cracked. Yes, she could love this man, this shifter who’d taken care of her every time she got into trouble. But she couldn’t allow it.
Blinking away her tears, she huffed. “You won’t give up, will you?”
“No.” Harding’s weight was soothing, his strength tempered with the tenderness he showed.
“You said you’d let me go. You said I had to find who hurt you and female Freedom supporters, and then you’d let me go. I haven’t done both yet, but I will—”
“I lied.” And he didn’t look the least bit apologetic about it, either.
Mirroring his movements from moments before, she nudged aside an errant lock of his hair and ignored the new stab of pain in her chest when he nuzzled her hand. He rubbed his rough cheek against her palm. A deep, rumbling purr came from within his chest, the sound vibrating and filling her. It stroked her nerves, bringing them to life, and that snippet of a beast within her took notice. The animalistic side of her perked up and shoved at her to take this man, make him hers. It demanded she reach for him, for a happiness that was assured by throwing herself into his arms.
God hated her, had taken his anger for her father and decided to rain it down on Tess. He dangled a pristine future before her, knowing she couldn’t have a bit of it. This time, the tears refused to be stemmed. She yanked her hand away and pounded a fist against his chest. She wanted Harding, more than anything before, and yet she couldn’t have him.
Tess sobbed, the sound wrenched from her soul, and she hit him again. Over and over, she struck his chest. Sorrow, good God, more agony than she’d ever let herself feel, encompassed her.
Harding never moved, never twitched as she pounded on him, venting her rage at her mother for succumbing to Alistair’s charms, at Alistair for making her what she was, at the world for merely existing. Her anger overwhelmed everything, burying her in an avalanche of crushing pain.
Dimly, she heard him, heard his whispered, soothing words. Baby… Shh… I’ve got you… Never gonna let you go, sweet…
That last simply spurred on more salty tears, the moisture trailing down her cheeks. Her throat hurt, throbbing in time with her pounding heart.
“Harding…” She croaked out his name and then whimpered. Unclenching her fists, she pulled him to her. She urged his weight more fully against hers, holding him close as she cried into his shoulder. He remained atop her, sheltering and protecting her from the world. Those low assurances never stopped, the sounds merely a hint louder now that his face was pressed against her neck. His alluring scent surrounded her, blanketing her in comfort. Now, this second, she truly felt safe.
Soft lips caressed her neck, the kiss not quite chaste but not quite more. It embodied comfort and a hint of wanting without pressuring her. He did it again, shifting his target and caressing a new spot of skin. Her ragged nerves were soothed by him, the frazzled strings settling with each new touch. Another kiss, and then another, relaxed her body in slow increments.
She wasn’t sure how much time passed, how long Harding sheltered her from the world. It seemed no part of her neck, and eventually shoulder, remained untouched. It wasn’t until her tears dried, and the shudders of residual pain eased, that he pulled back and looked down at her once again.
His body vibrated with restrained…something. She couldn’t quite discern his expression. Anger? Fear? Affection? More?
Quiet continued to reign as their gazes remained locked.
Then he spoke. “I know you’ve got a lot going on up here, some of it your own past and probably a good dose of my own, but you need to know one thing, Tess McCain: you are mine.”
“You don’t understand.”
Harding shook his head. “No, I don’t. And I won’t pretend that I do. But, I’m gonna prove to you that you can trust me. That I’m someone you can count on not to hurt you and that nothing, nothing, matters but you and me. Not this damned compound or the Council. I’m gonna protect you, Tess, even if it’s from your stubborn self.” He leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss. “You’re mine, maybe not in truth just yet, but you are.”
She wasn’t sure if her battered heart could take much more, could endure the truth of his words, but he kept going.
“You’ve spent your whole life on your own, fighting against the world that’s kept you captive, and now we’re asking for more from you.”
“I don’t mind.” Not really.
“I do. We’re not doing this again. The Council has other Sensitives that can meet with these women.”
Tess grimaced. “They won’t be as good.”
“Probably not, but I can’t go through this again, and neither can you. You slept longer than last time, and my cat is going crazy with the need to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”
Yes, God hated her and decided to torment her with what she couldn’t have. “I’m okay—”
“I need this, Tess. I know you’re not ready to mate. I don’t claim to understand, but I can deal with it. But only if I can get you out of here. I need you in my den, under my care, and surrounded by a pride I can trust. I’m gonna take you home and let others deal with this mess.”
More tears, these gentler, but no less annoying. Home. She hadn’t ever had one of those. Bare concrete walls had been the only home she’d ever known. “Home?”
“Home. Our home. I’ve got a nice little house near the pride home, and I’ve already called the Prime and given him a ‘heads up’ that I’ll be returning with you.”
His tone warned her not to argue, but she couldn’t hold her tongue. “Harding, Alistair—”
“Is dead, and no one in the pride blames you for what he’s done.” His gaze hardened. “You’re coming home with me. We’re gonna build a life together, and when you trust me, we’ll mate.” He waggled his eyebrows. “That doesn’t mean I won’t steal a few kisses and anything else I can get away with between now and then.”
Heat suffused her cheeks, the thoughts of what they could do without going as far as the mating bite slithering through her mind. She may not have experience, but she’d seen enough consensual sex through the years to imagine what it’d be like to be possessed by the massive shifter.
A quick rap of knuckles against her d
oor forestalled anything else that may have happened.
In a single, flowing move, Harding rolled and stood tall between her and the door. His fists flexed once, and claws replaced his human fingers. He bounced on the balls of his feet as if prepped to attack whoever came into her room. “Enter.”
The door slowly eased open, cracking the tiniest bit until a head peeked around the corner. Tess easily recognized Ben. In an instant, Harding relaxed, but his claws remained. “Sir, just heard from the strip. The plane from Ridgeville is ready and waiting.”
With that, the door snapped shut and Ben’s heavy tread rapidly retreated.
“Ben? Plane?” She huffed. “How long was I out?”
“Two days. The worst two days of my life.” Harding took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, but he didn’t turn around. “I lived through my parents’ deaths and managed to survive what my pride did to me.” He turned toward her, his eyes nearly white with his cat’s presence. “But these last two days nearly killed me.” With a shudder, the claws receded, and Harding’s lion retreated. He held out a now human-shaped hand to her. She slid her palm over his, allowing him to help her from the bed. She stood on wobbly legs, but managed to hold her weight. “Millie and the Mastin sisters came with us while Jackie and any others found will remain at the compound. The Council will be separating out who may still sympathize with Freedom from those that really want help. Ben wanted to come along, and Stone trusts him, so he’ll be allowed to stay in Ridgeville for a while.”
Two days. They were splitting up the remaining four and they were leaving and for some reason Ben was coming and… “The plane’s here? Now?” She finally took a moment to look around her room and realized that everything was gone. Everything.
“Now.” He tugged her close, and the anxiety that’d been growing inside her fled with his touch. “I had them pack you up, and we shipped everything to my house. Alex, the Prime, is already overseeing the remodel on our home. I looked at the plans for this place. They’re reinforcing the walls with steel to keep a lot of the voices out. By the time we get there, it should all be done. Dusty, but done.”