by Kyle, Celia
“Okay, no more than four of you at a time, and the twins count as two regardless of whether the airlines charge you for their seats or not. Honestly, I should count them as three since they destroy damn near everything.”
Maya glared at him for a moment, but he stood fast. His fox couldn’t stand against a lion when shifted, but human-shaped Gavin could take the tiny female. Maybe.
Finally, Maya nodded and stepped forward to brush a kiss across his cheek. His mate hissed and snapped at the woman, and then the ladies were gone. All of them tromping back the way they’d come.
“Did you see that? It’s just like a fox. He hypnotized her with all that foxiness.”
“Carly, do you even know what you’re talking about?” He could hear the frustration in his sister’s voice.
There was a slight pause, “Not really, no.”
Unwilling to listen to any more of the women’s banter, he pushed the door closed and leaned against it while staring at his mate. His gorgeous, beautiful, too-good-for-him mate.
“C’mere.” He opened his arms and she stepped forward, falling into his embrace. “I suppose you’re gonna miss them.”
“Yup.”
“And we’ll end up with more than four at a time?”
She nodded, a grin playing on those freshly-kissed lips. “Probably.”
Gavin growled and nipped her nose. “Fine. But right now, I’m gonna drag you back into that room. We can deal with the rest tomorrow.”
He slipped past her, snagging her hand as he brushed by her seductively lush body, and tugged her toward the bedroom. More importantly, the bed.
Gina pulled her hand from his grip. He heard two heavy stomps, and then she was on his back, thighs wrapped around his waist and hands clutching his shoulders. She nibbled his earlobe and whispered to him, heated breath fanning his ear. “You gonna be all foxy? Like a fox with the foxiness?”
The happiness and pure joy were evident in her words, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life mated to her. “Yeah, baby. Just like that.”
Forever and ever, like that.
The End
If you enjoyed this book, please be totally awesomesauce and leave a review so others may discover it as well. Long review or short, your opinion will help other readers make future purchasing decisions. So go forth and rate my level-o-awesome!
By the way… here are some links to help you hunt up the rest of the Ridgeville series:
Ridgeville #1 – He Ain’t Lion (FREE) http://bookbit.ly/halare
Ridgeville #2 – You’re Lion http://bookbit.ly/ylare
Ridgeville #3 – Ball of Furry http://bookbit.ly/bofare
Ridgeville Series Volume One – Ridgeville 1, 2 & 3 http://bookbit.ly/rdg1are
Ridgeville #4 – Head Over Tail http://bookbit.ly/hotare
Ridgeville #5 – Fierce in Fur http://bookbit.ly/fifare
Ridgeville #6 – Deuces Wild http://bookbit.ly/dware
Ridgeville Series Volume Two – Ridgeville 4, 5, & 6 http://bookbit.ly/rdg2are
Ridgeville #7 – Sealed with a Purr http://bookbit.ly/swapare
Ridgeville #8 – Like a Fox (FREE) http://bookbit.ly/lafare
Ridgeville #9 – Big Furry Deal http://bookbit.ly/bfdare
Ridgeville #10 – Lion’s Honor http://bookbit.ly/lhare
Maya: Wisdom from the Queen (FREE) http://bookbit.ly/mayaare
Register for Celia’s Newsletter: http://celiakyle.com/news/
Part VIII
Big Furry Deal
Panther shifter Millie Walker is finally free, finally knows her real name, and finally… has a mate? Well, crap.
For Millie, having a mate is a horrible, no good, he’ll end up very dead, bad idea. She’s got what some refer to as a “control problem.” In other words: she has no control and that’s her problem. So, she stays away from others, keeps to herself, and generally tries not to kill people. Except the pride Prima—Maya—has this “awesomesauce” idea and suddenly Millie’s at a pride picnic surrounded by people… and then she meets her mate. Her tall, delicious, please-may-I-lick-you-from-head-to-toe mate. Now she prays her powers don’t suddenly decide Wyatt is better off six feet under.
Lion shifter Wyatt Dane knows he’s not the kind of man who takes a mate. His own mother proved he wasn’t worth loving. But then he meets Millie. Millie with her fiery hair, generous curves, and dangerous powers. He tries to resist her, forces himself to reject her, but then she returns and he realizes he can’t let her go. Her powers will just have to figure out how to deal with his presence. He’s keeping her. Period.
But someone from her past didn’t get the “she’s mated” memo and he’s determined to have her, no matter the cost.
52
“You got opinions, I got opinions, we’ve all got opinions. The thing is, your opinions can bite my as— Ahem. Never mind.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who loves her children but wishes they would go away sometimes. Like when she’s ready tell someone to bite her ass.
Millie sat on her bed and traced the blue, swirling lines bordering the paper and stroked the raised seal at the bottom of the page. The pattern filled the edges, and she let her fingers dance over the design. Her touch stuttered when she reached the top, tips trembling as she read the words.
Amelia Beth Walker.
Amelia. Beth. Walker.
Ameliabethwalker.
State of Nebraska. Certificate of Birth.
She had a name now. A true name. Not one thrown at her during captivity.
Amelia Beth Walker.
Born October 28, 1979.
Millie leaned against the headboard and dug through her mind, drifting deeper and deeper as she sought her oldest memory. She ached to find a time when Amelia Beth Walker was a name she recognized.
She craved memories of her childhood, of a time when she laughed and played. She wanted to go back to those two years she spent with her parents, with her twin brother… Her mind sought out remembrances not tainted by Alistair’s touch.
Her hands trembled, the page shaking in her grip, and her tenuous control wavered. Fighting for those memories always brought forth the same reaction within her body.
Damn it, she couldn’t lose control. Not now. She knew her real name. She wanted to know herself. Again, she looked and yet again stumbled across abuse after abuse. The paper in her hand fell to the sheets and the memories and pain came. She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, slowly rocking, slowly rocking.
Inside her head, she was back in that underground compound—prison—one of Alistair McCain’s hidden lairs deep in a mountain. Alistair, the leader of Freedom—an anti-establishment shifter group—was dead and the council was repurposing his holdings.
The cold walls encompassed them, five women who clung to sanity by a thread. They lingered in the living area where it was easy to see who came and went. So many new faces come to save them. So many more.
Millie ran a hand through her hair, fingers tangling on the strands, and then the low ding of the elevator drew her attention. She listened to the whirring gears and shifting bolts of the metal box as she wondered who could be coming back.
She sensed it wasn’t him. It wasn’t that male.
But the two people about to step off the elevator shouldn’t be in the compound. It was an intruder—one of her saviors?—and… one of them, one of Alistair’s men. She recognized him. Her power whipped at her, the Sensitive part of her rushing forward in its twisted and perverted form.
The doors to the elevator eased open, the metal panels separating slowly to grant this newcomer’s entrance. Millie held her breath. Her power lashed at her, growing with her unease. It slithered through her, demanding to be released upon the familiar, unwanted presence. She opened her mouth and drew in a breath, scenting the air. Yes. Males.
Now it was no longer a matter of allowing her abilities free reign. That ball of rage that had forever been a part of her rushed forward and stole con
trol.
One booted foot came into view, bringing a massive shifter male along with it. No, no, no. She couldn’t have another male in her space.
Her Sensitive abilities reacted to her panic.
The stranger, she didn’t know. Was he one of the good guys?
The power didn’t care if its victims had nothing to do with Alistair McCain. It craved vengeance.
No, she pleaded, he wasn’t a bad male, he wouldn’t harm them, he wouldn’t…
Invisible strands burst from her body and raced through the compound’s living room. They were aimed at this man. In less than a second, her power struck him. It dug into his mind, pulling and tugging at bits and pieces of him.
Next she hunted the pain centers in his brain, dug deep and gathered every one in her ghostly hand. And yanked. His entire body spasmed as she overloaded him with agony.
So much pain invaded the other that not a shout or scream escaped his lips before he lay prone on the ground, unconscious.
The power was pleased.
Another tendril of rage-filled power flowed from her body, slinking through the room, hunting the other being: Alistair’s man.
He would know the pain he gave her all these years. All the times they stood in Alistair’s group, pawing and taking what they wanted. Men.
He stepped out of the elevator and fell to his knees, his cuffed hands covered his ears as if he could block its passage inside his skull. Bulges and bubbles stretched skin over the cranial bones. Portions of his skull rose and fell.
Millie was horrified by the action while her power was not. It felt vindicated, overjoyed at hurting a male before it hurt them again. One last push to protect her.
Millie rolled into a ball and screamed as the man’s head exploded into fine red mist.
Her own scream brought her back from the nightmare. Her heart raced with anxiety. When she killed a prisoner that day, she had been drugged and weakened from Alistair’s abuse. Now after eight months of freedom—six months in the Freedom compound and two in Ridgeville—she was strong and healthy, and she worried about the damage she could cause.
Millie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt one of her saviors. Saviors…
After more years than she could count, she had saviors.
No, not more than she could count. She picked up the birth certificate again. Thirty-two years. She’d been kidnapped at two and spent thirty years in Alistair’s clutches.
How could anyone know she had the abilities of a powerful Sensitive when she was still a toddler? Through the years, she came to learn a Sensitive could influence any shifter, and was able to both soothe and destroy another’s mind.
It was times like these that she hated her Sensitive abilities. For the average female shifter, being a Sensitive was a blessing and occasionally an annoyance. They were born with the ability to glide into another shifter’s mind and control their beast. A simple thought soothed the animal and a little more effort allowed the Sensitive to control another’s mind.
Unfortunately for Millie, she was stronger than most. Or rather, stronger than any. And through the years, all she endured day in and day out corrupted her abilities, molded and reshaped them into what there were now.
Dangerous. Uncontrollable. Deadly.
She reminded the power that they were free, fed, and had a roof over their head. Evil males didn’t linger in the shadows waiting for a chance to abuse her. They weren’t hiding around corners with tranquilizer guns aimed at her. They weren’t waiting for the drugs to take hold so they could…
In Ridgeville, there was no reason to be on guard. No reason to hunt for its next target. She prayed it’d listen, prayed it’d ease back. She held her breath, waiting to see how it’d react.
It grumbled and retreated, slithered back inside her and behind the mental walls she’d built to contain that part of herself. She breathed a sigh of relief. That part of her grew stronger as her physical body regained its strength.
Millie looked inside herself, pushed past the dark cloud of her power and on toward her inner-panther. The cat paced, snarling and growling at the ball of ghost-like power, but did not go near it.
It was always the same, the two always living separate lives inside her body. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, though. Yes, shifters often referred to their animals as individual beings, and in some ways they were. But for someone like her, for a Sensitive who had abilities others did not, it was dangerous.
With her body torn into three, she was afraid she’d destroy herself.
“Mil-lie!” Maya’s bellow vibrated the entire house. The Ridgeville Prima’s roar caught her off guard and her power shot to the surface in an agonizing rush, anticipating her need for protection. The lioness must have let herself into the house Millie shared with the Mastin sisters. The owner, Gina, recently mated and moved away, leaving the place empty and perfect for Millie and the sisters.
“Damn it, not now,” Millie whispered to herself and pushed back, shoved the hate deeper into her body and wrapped it up tight. “She’s the freaking Prima. The mate to the Prime and one of the people who can kick our ass to the curb.”
“I’m also the Queen of Booblandia, but whatevs.” Maya’s voice filled the room. “And talking to yourself can be a sign of schizophrenia. Are you schizophrenic?”
Millie smiled as she rolled off the bed and turned toward the bedroom door. “No, not schizophrenic.”
Maya narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure? I bet a schizophrenic person would say they weren’t schizophrenic to avoid wearing a straitjacket in a non-bondage-happy-fun-times way.”
Millie rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”
The Prima smiled wide. “Good. That means you can have multiple personalities instead. Because then I’d get two, or more, new best friends instead of one.”
Millie tilted her head to the side, confusion filling her. “Huh?”
Maya rolled her eyes. “I swear, does no one follow a conversation here?” she huffed. “Gina-the-whore mated Gavin-the-dog, which left me down a best friend. So, you’re here now, and you talk,” Maya scrunched her nose. “Not that I’m saying anything bad about the Mastin sisters and their not talking thing. I mean, I’m not a totally insensitive bitch, right?” She waved her hands. “Anyway, I’ll apologize later. But what this all means is you take her place. Except you-you were supposed to be a new bestie. So now I’m down two besties. And that means you need to have multiple personalities and take up both spots.” Happiness and excitement filled Maya’s features. “Are you picking up what I’m putting down?”
Millie sifted through the babble. Okay, she knew Gina (a Ridgeville lioness) recently mated Gavin (a dog, er, fox and brother to another Ridgeville pride member). Which left this home empty and a Gina-sized hole in Maya’s life. But then there was the “you” and the “you-you” and…
“No.” Millie shook her head. “Not so much.”
Maya heaved a put-upon sigh. “None of you listen. Okay, let’s do this again.” The Prima straightened and held up a finger. “Gina-the-whore—”
“For the love of—Maya!” Alex, the Prime and Maya’s mate, yelled. His voice echoed through the house, causing the Prima to jump.
Millie wished that was all it did to her. No, the enraged part of her burst free of its moorings and shoved against her control. It sliced through layer after layer of her bindings and stretched the last that kept it within her body.
The memories made it too raw, too powerful. If only she’d had an hour, half an hour… hell, with a few minutes of quiet time, she could have ensured it was tied up tight and ready for visitors.
“What?” The Prima seemed ignorant of her struggles.
“We’re late!”
Maya scoffed and turned toward the hall to yell at her mate. “We can’t be late. We’re the most important people there.”
Millie struggled to breathe. Her birth certificate slipped from her fingers, and she fisted her hands, digging her na
ils into the soft flesh of her palms. Her abilities scraped the last layer of her mental walls. It sensed Alex in the house. Part of it recognized him as a mated male, as someone who’d helped them, but another thought drifted forward. Even a mated male could beat a woman. Even a mated male could forc—
Panic set in, her heart racing as her lungs fought to bring air in and out of her body. Sweat beaded on her forehead, peppering her in the salty fluid. The scent of blood soon joined the others in the room, and the Prima’s gaze swung back to her.
Millie ignored the worry and shock in Maya’s gaze. She had her own crap.
Please, please, please. She wasn’t sure what she was begging for. Relief? Forgiveness? An end?
She was so tired, so tired of living this way day in and day out. For one moment she’d like to not have to worry about accidentally harming someone.
“Maya.” Alex wasn’t giving up.
Maya ignored him and approached her. This was a different version of Maya, one that didn’t have a ready smile and obnoxious jokes on her lips. This one was worried with her brow scrunched and concern in her gaze. “Millie? Hon?”
She shook her head and took a step back. That part of her still fighting to break free attacked her to get at the one who’d scared them. Damn it. She’d knocked Harding on his ass months ago. At the time, he’d been down for the count for a day or two. Since being in Ridgeville, she’d grown stronger. She wasn’t sure what would happen if her power struck out now.
She remembered the glory of Harding’s nerves sliding over her palms as she manipulated his mind. It’d reveled in the flavors of his pain. The power had a taste for it now and she didn’t want to see what else it would enjoy.