Mating Instinct (The COMPLETE Ridgeville Series)

by Kyle, Celia

  “Help.”

  * * *

  Wyatt tried not to growl at his Prime. The man had relevant questions that could only be answered by him, but Alex was keeping him from Bethy. He’d worked hard and saved to buy his home, and he wanted to be by her side as she discovered the different places that meant so much to him.

  Instead, he was on the phone with Alex while he watched her through the window. Not long after she stepped outside, she’d pressed her cell phone to her ear, and he figured Maya was checking up on his mate.

  Shit. She was his mate. Well, at least he was hers since she’d claimed him. He smiled at the memory. Twice. Regardless of the pain, she’d bitten him twice. Whether she realized it or not, the cat seemed to want to make sure everyone knew he belonged to her.

  He couldn’t wait to do the same to Bethy.

  “Wyatt,” Alex snapped. “Are you listening?”

  “Of course, Prime.” He was quick to respond. The last thing he wanted was for the Prime to come stomping over and interrupt his time with Bethy even further.

  “Then answer.”

  He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, guessing at what the male wanted to know. “Bethy—”

  “Who?”

  He sighed. “Millie woke up this morning covered in dirt and bruises with a bite on the back of her shoulder. She doesn’t remember how all that happened.”

  “What bit her? How can she not remember?”

  “I don’t know. To both. Some of her memory is returning, but it’s slow going.” Wyatt kept his attention on Bethy as he lowered himself into a chair. He could only see the top of her head, but at least he knew she was there. “She recalled my house and how she broke in last night,” Alex grunted and Wyatt ignored the man. “But the rest is hazy to her.”

  “She’s got problems, Wyatt. Are you sure—”

  “She’s fucking perfect.” The snarl that burst to his lips startled him, but he wouldn’t call it back for the world. “She’s mine.”

  “Wyatt, I’m just saying—”

  Wyatt’s skin rippled, the lion ready to come out and play, to rip the words from Alex’s lips. “Mine.” He didn’t recognize his own voice, but it didn’t matter. “Mine.”

  “Wyatt… Hold on a sec.” The scratch and scuffling sounds coming over the line indicated that Alex covered the receiver with his hand. Then an echoing roar reached him as the Prime screamed a single word. “No.”

  The male only used that tone when yelling at his mate. He wondered what Maya was up to now.

  “Sorry.” Alex cleared his throat. “I was saying that your mate has a lot of unfortunate history. It’s something you should keep in mind when things happen.”

  “Are you insinuating she did this to herself? She somehow bit herself?”

  “Wyatt, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying she has abilities we don’t understand, and her control is shaky at best.”

  The lion pushed and clawed at his control. It couldn’t stand anyone doubting Bethy. It went against its nature to allow someone to badmouth her. “I don’t know what happened to her, but—”

  A panicked voice that sounded like Maya’s reached him through the phone, and Alex’s tone changed. His words were filled with anxiety. “Shit. Wyatt, where’s Millie right now?”

  Wyatt furrowed his brow. “Outside on the deck.” He returned his attention to the back window, bitching at himself for letting his gaze stray. Except… Except she was standing on one of the chairs? What the…

  Her body jerked and twitched then froze before tumbling from his view. “Shit. I gotta go.”

  “We’re on our—”

  Wyatt disconnected the call and dropped the phone, racing through the house as fast as he could. He hit the back door at a run, busting the panel off its hinges in a shower of glass and wood.

  He skidded to a stop, bare feet slipping on the debris and sliding into his flesh. But the shards of pain were distant as he stared down at Bethy. Her face contorted, bits cracking and shifting into a perverted version of her cat. First one cheek, and then the other, her upper jaw snapping and changing before her lower jaw split and reshaped.

  What was supposed to be a fluid transformation occurred in fits and starts. Her thigh bone went before her shin, her ribs before her spine was able to accommodate the change. Her legs shortened and thickened, forcing her to all fours before her paws could form.

  And the pain… It seemed to pour into the air, filling it with her agony. It assaulted him with invisible fists, one strike on top of another.

  Golden eyes framed in black focused on him. “Help me.”

  Human words from a half-cat mouth.

  “Bethy.” He sank to his knees, unsure where to touch her, how to soothe her, how to help her.

  And still the shift continued. Patches of skin were slowly replaced by midnight fur, the paleness sinking into the dark. A change that should have taken a second took minutes to complete. When all was said and done, she lay on her side, panting and wrapped in her shredded clothing.

  “Sweetheart.” He edged closer to her, hand outstretched, when her menacing growl had him freezing. “Bethy, let me…”

  The crunch of glass told him someone had arrived. He took a breath and tasted the air. Alex and Maya. Why the hell the Prime would bring Maya into this, he didn’t know.

  “Wyatt.”

  Bethy’s growl intensified, and she rolled to her feet. It felt as if electricity filled the air. It crackled against his skin, flicking his arms and sliding around his neck before moving on. Apparently her power had weighed him and found him worthy. Alex’s gasp told him Bethy’s abilities found the Prime lacking.

  Fuck.

  He understood his mate better now, realized it wasn’t specifically Alex that caused her reaction, but the fact that he was male. His sweet Bethy. So many men had hurt her.

  “Bethy, stop.” He glared at the panther standing feet from him.

  The cat glared back and then turned its attention to Alex.

  Fuck it. She was his mate. What she’d just experienced had been horrific, but they couldn’t harm the Prime. He darted forward and tackled the cat, forcing her to her back while he pinned her beneath him.

  The cat snarled and snapped its teeth at him, the shining fangs missing his neck by a hairsbreadth. “Damn it. What’s wrong with you?” He managed to snare one of her paws, but the other struck out at him, catching his sleeve and sliding down his arm. “What the hell?”

  Wyatt sensed Alex approaching. Then another gasp came from the Prime followed by a heavy thud and then Maya’s scream. He had Bethy pinned, but holding her physical body obviously didn’t affect that other part of her.

  Damn it, he didn’t have time for them. Not when he stared into Bethy’s golden gaze and instead found black eyes staring back at him.

  Power, the part of her that came with being a Sensitive, turned on him while she bucked and jerked against his hold. She brought her back legs up, deadly claws spread and nails exposed, and aimed for his abdomen. He managed to corral her lower body with his left leg, pinning them to the ground, but it wouldn’t last long.

  She snapped at him again, this time her fangs catching his shirt, but thankfully, not skin. In frustration, she twisted and tugged, yanking one leg free of his grasp.

  “Stop it.” She got him again, and he grunted. Pain seared him, tearing through him like lightning, but he couldn’t let her free. Not when she’d attacked Alex. He had no idea what she’d do to Maya.

  “Calm the fuck down.” He snarled at her, and she roared in return.

  Blood trailed down his arms, flowing and dripping onto the wood beneath them, staining the surface a deep red.

  Bethy’s power scraped at him, attempting to tear into him, but it couldn’t. For some reason, his body rejected her attempt to injure him. However, it didn’t stop her from trying.

  More of that prickling heat, more growls, snarls, and roars. She fought him with everything she had and still he held on. Minutes pass
ed—or hours—and she remained his captive.

  With no sign of peace in sight, he did the only thing he could do. And he hated himself for it. She’d spent years being forced to bend to another’s whim. She’d spent day after day being beaten and abused so she’d do as they demanded.

  He was about to do the same.

  Wyatt allowed some of his change to roll through him. He willed his hands to claws and allowed fur to coat his arms, chest and neck. Next he urged the cat to transform his face, alter his human bones until the lion’s snout replaced his mouth.

  The moment he held the shape he desired, he lowered his head until it was less than an inch from Bethy’s snarling maw. And then he roared.

  Bethy immediately stilled, the black in her eyes fading into gold and fearful submission filled her feline features. A tremble shook her sleek body and then she relaxed beneath him, her paws no longer fighting for his flesh.

  He wrapped one clawed hand around her neck and gently squeezed. Not to hurt, but to remind her a more worthy, stronger male held her captive. She immediately lowered her gaze and turned her head, attention shifting to the wooden floor.

  With the assistance of his cat, he pushed human words past his fangs. “You need a powerful male and you’ve found him. I am your male. I am your mate. Everything inside you will become one and… You. Will. Submit.”

  Bethy whimpered, and another tremble slithered through her before piece by piece she became human once again.

  As the shift reversed, a groan came from Alex, his Prime coughing as he regained consciousness. The first words from his leader’s mouth hurt, but didn’t surprise him.

  “Clear the pride house. I want her in the cage.”

  59

  “The road to happiness is always under construction. But no worries, my SUV has four wheel drive. Let’s rock this.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who is determined to have her happily ever after, damn it.

  Millie woke slowly, climbing from the depth of her sleep and toward the light of day. Her body gradually came to life, shifting of its own volition as she struggled for consciousness. Unfamiliar aches and pains invaded her. The muscles in her arms throbbed and her neck hurt as if it’d been strained. A flicker of a memory shot across her mind… A flash of metal… dripping fangs?

  A stabbing ache came from below her collar bone, and she brought her hand to the spot. Swollen. Two raised bumps just over two inches apart. Not big enough to be a mating bit from Wyatt, which meant…

  Which meant something had bitten her again. She flipped through her memory, searching for who and how, but she came up blank. Nothing.

  She shifted again, groaning with the effort, and then a warm hand pulled her fingers from her wound while the other hand brushed the hair from her face.

  “Shh, Bethy. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

  When hadn’t she been safe?

  Millie forced her eyes open, demanded her body respond, and her lids parted. She blinked against the bright lights, but kept her focus on her mate. “Wyatt?”

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Worried filled his features. “How are you feeling?”

  She furrowed her brow. “I hurt. My arms, legs.” She brought her other hand to the wounds on her chest. “What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “No, I,” she furrowed her brow and thought back. “We were at your house. Alex called?” At his nod, she continued piecing together the snippets in her mind. “I went onto the back deck while you talked to him and… Maya called?” Another nod. “I don’t-I don’t remember much after that. I hurt.” She did recall that. Pain, so much pain. “A lot.”

  “Nothing else?”

  She shook her head. “No, should I?”

  Wyatt’s shoulders slumped, and he turned his attention from her which finally brought her focus on her location.

  Bars. A long row of bars encased them, holding them captive in a large cage. The light glinted off the metal, each one catching her eye as her gaze shifted.

  “Wyatt?” Panic threatened her, and she fought for calm while she prepared to fight back the cat and her power combined.

  Except… they were gone. The dark cloud didn’t lurk in its usual corner, and the cat was different. Present but muted and silent in its space, not reacting to their captivity.

  Too bad the human part of Millie wasn’t as calm.

  “Wyatt?” She pushed his hands away and fought her coverings. Blankets were wrapped around her, holding her captive, and she battled the fabric.

  With a thought, her claws formed, yet she didn’t feel the overpowering surge of her cat wrenching control. No, it was as if the animal lent a hand changing a tire instead of stealing a car.

  Ideas of slashing through her sheets vanished with the appearance of her claws. She stared at her paw, noting the dark fur that covered her hand, the midnight nails that replaced fingers and the soft pads that represented her palm. The fur stretched along her forearm and faded as it neared her elbow.

  She brought up her other hand, comparing the human skin and fingers to the panther’s paw. Then, with a whisper of a thought, she willed her pale hand to shift. And it did. Right there. Had she blinked, she would have missed the gentle roll as her beast did as she silently asked.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” Wyatt’s tone held a hint of awe and pride.

  “What happened?” At his frown, she begged. “Please.”

  He sighed. “I’ll tell you, but let’s get you cleaned up first.”

  “Cleaned up…” Millie turned her attention to her body, the claws forgotten. No, not forgotten. They were simply gone. A brief thought drifted through her mind at how much easier it’d be to remove her sheet with human hands. Then the fur disappeared, taking her claws with it.

  She turned to her mate with wide eyes. “Whoa. What—”

  “Clothes first and then we can talk about,” he looked around the room, their cage, “everything else.”

  Realizing she wasn’t going to get anything out of him, she nodded. That got him moving, rising from beside her and giving her a better view of the space.

  She lay wrapped in sheets on a small, twin sized bed against the wall in their cage. The floor was concrete with drain grates every few feet. She craned her neck, wincing with the pain, and noticed a toilet, sink, and single showerhead hidden behind a curtain. A sparse cell.

  Wyatt moved away from her and strode toward the bars, bending down and snatching something from the ground near the door. When he returned to her, she realized he held a bundle of clothing.

  “Maya sent these along. She said the top might be a little snug since you’re, and I quote, ‘threatening her position as Queen of Booblandia.’”

  Maya sent them? So the Prima knew they were in the cell. Had she put them here?

  Instead of asking the questions lingering on her tongue, she nodded and accepted the bundle. She stood and shed the sheet, blushing as Wyatt’s appreciative gaze traveled over her body. Rolling her eyes, she fought to ignore him and simply focused on getting dressed.

  It was then she saw the damage. More bruises. Her legs and hips as well as a long, thick line across her chest that wove between her breasts. “What…”

  “Just get dressed, Bethy.” He murmured, and the other half of her nudged her into motion.

  Not one third.

  A half.

  Stunned, she went through the motions, slipping on a pair of cotton, drawstring shorts followed by Maya’s shirt that was, indeed, snug across her chest. By the time she’d wiggled the top into place, she was exhausted and slumped onto the bed in a flopping heap.

  “Tell me.”

  “God, Bethy.” Wyatt sat beside her and scooped her up, placing her across his lap. He took a deep breath and continued. “You were standing on a deck chair when I saw you through the window, but by the time I got outside, your shift…”

  Another tremble and Millie changed position so she could pet and st
roke his chest. “I’m fine, Wyatt. Whatever happened,” she swallowed, sensing something horrible had occurred and hating that she didn’t know what. “I’m fine.”

  “Do you ever remember your shifts? What they feel like?”

  Millie shook her head. “No, the cat takes over and I’m sorta gone during the shift. Afterwards, I can see what’s happening, but I can’t do anything until she steps back.”

  “Good. Your shift was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. Your hands just now? That was normal. What you went through, Bethy, was something out of a horror movie.” He took a deep breath and she nuzzled his chest, passing along any comfort she could. “And when it was done, your power attacked. First me, then Alex.”

  “Is he…”

  “He’s fine. But you and I fought. Sweetheart,” something that sounded like a sob pushed through his chest. “I forced you to submit. I fought you. Those bruises on your body are from me. I wrestled you to the ground, pinned you, and demanded that you submit to me.” He placed a finger under her chin, and she allowed him to direct her gaze. “I am so, so sorry.”

  Millie cupped one of his cheeks. “I don’t remember it, but it was obvious I was out of control. Forcing me to submit to you was the right thing to do. We already knew my power doesn’t really affect you, so you were the only one who could have done anything. And now,” she shook her head. “Now it’s all different.”

  “How?”

  She removed her touch and held out her hand, willing fur to cover her skin while leaving the claws behind. “I can do this. The cat hasn’t stolen control and is letting me draw on her without bulldozing me. And my power… It was so angry all the time. Furious with males and determined to keep them away. That’s why it lashed out, and Maya figured out that forcing me to hold a child kept it restrained. It couldn’t attack men while it was focused on protecting and caring for a kid. Now it’s part of me, part of the cat.” She shook her head. “It’s not separate anymore. That big ball of rage is sorta… gone.”

  “That’s good, love.” He brushed a kiss across her temple.

  “I’m assuming I’m in this cage because I attacked Alex. What’s my sentence? Why are you here?”