YazminaLion Are

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  He quickened his pace, fucking her in sharp, precise strokes. The initial pain completely evaporated, replaced with mind-shattering pleasure, pleasure that made every fiber of her being scream with atavistic ecstasy. Yazmina held onto him as he rained slam upon slam of hard, rapid fucks on her.

  The pleasure surged through her a thousand-fold. He fucked her harder and faster. Yazmina gasped. Her nails dug into his flesh as he ravaged her. He hammered her over and over until an abrupt climax mercilessly seized her. Her body went rigid as fireworks burst out before her eyes. Her pussy gripped his shaft tight, but Arcan kept slamming into her, pounding, yanking, lunging, pulling with sheer savagery until another climax ambushed her.

  Yazmina bit Arcan’s shoulder to muffle her scream, but he didn’t seem to feel it. He thrust once, twice, three times and jerked. He came, his cock spurting fertile seed into her.

  She felt him spasm inside her more than a dozen times. When he stopped, he breathed heavily, his forehead beaded with sweat. He kissed her open-mouthed. Their gazes locked and they laughed together like a pair of mischievous kids who’d just done something naughty and forbidden.

  Arcan was about to roll off of her when she halted him. “Don’t,” she begged. “I love having you inside me.”

  He grinned. “That could be dangerous. I could get hard again very easily.”

  She grinned back. “I won’t mind.” Then she kissed him hard.

  He returned the kiss just as hungrily. They devoured each other until Yazmina noticed he’d become rock-hard again.

  Arcan parted his lips. “Uh-oh. I told you. We lions have a short recuperation time.”

  Yazmina giggled. “Do you hear me complaining?”

  Chapter Five

  The constant hum from the air conditioning duct stirred her from her slumber. She felt disoriented at first, trying to remember where she was. She found herself in bed with Arcan. Under the sheet. He was fast asleep next to her.

  Yazmina blushed, then grinned like an idiot.

  That’s right. We’ve made love. I’m his woman now.

  Funny, such a simple thing made her so happy.

  She climbed out of the bed to use the bathroom. Afterward, she donned her clothes and snuggled back into the bed. The air conditioner in the apartment went on full blast, chilling the room colder than she liked, but she didn’t want to get out of the bed to adjust it. She pulled the comforter up to her cheek and crowded him in, sharing his body heat.

  He mumbled something, but she couldn’t make out what it was. He wrapped his arm across her body, drawing her close to his chest.

  Yazmina savored the warmth and the intimacy. Somehow, she felt complete. Even though she’d been surrounded by many people all those years, she’d been lonely.

  Now, she was lonely no more. She had him—her protector.

  He was also her first kiss and her first lover.

  She stroked his hair gently. Ayna konti hadihi sinin? Where were you all these years?

  Arcan mumbled in his sleep.

  Ohiboki habibati kalbi wa rohi. I love you, beloved. My heart and my soul.

  The sound of Morning Prayer from the speakers of the mosque woke her from her dreamless sleep. People marked the day with early morning Salāt in Dubai. Places of worship came alive when the muadhan, a person who announced the prayer time to the community, recited the melodic call in front of a speaker.

  She looked at Arcan, who snorted quietly next to her. He still had one arm draped across her body. He stirred momentarily and went immediately back to sleep. She untangled from him and tiptoed to the bathroom.

  Since she was already up, she decided she might as well take a shower and make some tea. While waiting for the water to boil in the microwave, she retrieved her underclothes from the dryer and put them on. Apparently, Arcan had finished the load while she was asleep. Arcan hadn’t told her what his plan was, so she saved the clean blouse and khaki pants for when they were going out. She wore the shirt and sweatpants again.

  The microwave beeped. As the tea steeped, she found a box of wheat crackers in the pantry. The saltines were stale, but she munched on them anyway. Her stomach had been growling while she was in the shower. The warm tea and salty cracker soothed her digestion—for now. They needed to hit a store for some groceries and supplies. She made a mental note of what they would need. Fresh underwear. Brush. Deodorant.

  Suddenly, the apartment door burst open.

  Yazmina dropped the mug.

  Men in black uniforms stormed in from the hall with their weapons pointed at her.

  She screamed for Arcan.

  Shots were fired in the other room.

  One of the men barked at her. “Get down. Down now!”

  These men weren’t her father’s usual lackeys. They were professional. They could be only one thing.

  Mercenaries.

  “Who sent you? Why are you doing this? He’s innocent!” Panic seized her by her throat. What did they do? Did they shoot Arcan? No. It couldn’t be!

  No!

  “Who are you?” she demanded to know. “Fal nadhab sawfa odaifo ratibake. Let us go! I’ll double your pay.”

  “Oskote enbatihi ardan! Shut up. Get down!”

  “Sawfa adfa’o laki aktar mima wa’adaki abi. I’ll pay you more than what my father promised you.”

  “Enbatihi ardan enbatihi al an. Get down! Down, now!”

  Two men restrained her. She kicked and screamed but was silenced when one of them put a damp cloth over her face. It smelled sickly sweet. Cloying.

  Her vision blurred. Her limbs went weak. She collapsed.

  The world went black.

  Arcan didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious. When he opened his eyes, the sight of his cousin Cole looming before him surprised him.

  Instinctively, he groped at his chest and belly where the bullets had pierced him. He only felt bandages. Dull pain registered in his brain.

  He’d been shot. Yazmina’s scream had awakened him from his deep sleep. Before he could reach the bedroom door, a hail of bullets stopped him in his stride. He couldn’t remember anything else after that.

  What had happened to Yazmina?

  He was lying in a hospital bed now, an IV tube burrowed into his vein. The monitor screen next to him displayed a green graph of the steady beat of his heart.

  Cole studied him critically. “Thank God you finally came out of it. How do you feel?”

  “Awful,” Arcan replied hoarsely. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”

  “Hah!” Cole snickered. “I thought you were indestructible. Keto swore you spit nails and shit bricks.”

  Arcan couldn’t help but grimace. Among his pride, he was the biggest and the most muscular. People had always assumed he was a physical trainer or a henchman for an organized crime family, when in reality he designed houses and buildings for a living.

  “How did you find me?” Arcan’s voice came out like a growl. His throat was parched. A nurse entered and checked his temperature. He asked for water. The nurse refused flatly, stating that he’d just been downgraded from critical to stable, having survived a grueling surgical procedure. The doctor wasn’t allowing him to take anything by mouth. But he could chew on ice chips to moisten his palate. Arcan grudgingly agreed.

  The nurse left.

  “I followed the ambulance to the hospital. I waited for you during the surgery. You scared us all. Jennifer and Sarah have been texting me nonstop. You scared us all.”

  “I’m fine.”

  The nurse returned with a cup of ice chips. While Cole flirted with her, Arcan grabbed a handful of ice and munched on it. He felt thirstier afterward. The nurse scolded him when he asked for more ice chips.

  “I have to ask the doctor first.” She edged towards the door. “If he allows it, I’ll come back with more.”

  Cole tailed the nurse outside in a nonchalant manner and returned with a pitcher of ice water. “Screw the doctor,” he said, grinning. “What does he know about
treating a shifter, huh?”

  Arcan joined in the grin. He gulped down water directly from the pitcher until it was empty. Instantly, he felt much better. “Ugh.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think the painkiller or whatever shit they gave me messed up my system. If they patched me up without those shots, I’d have been fine. Doctors don’t understand supernatural physiology.”

  K’stal shifters had remarkable healing abilities. Often, modern medicine only impeded the regeneration process. Food, water and plenty of rest were usually what a K’stal shifter needed when they were wounded.

  “I forgot you’re sensitive to analgesics and aspirin.” Cole looked around and closed the door for privacy. He sat next to Arcan and talked in a hushed tone. “I actually arrived just as everyone heard gunshots. I was in the building lobby when it happened. Everyone was panicked, and then the security guards ran to the elevator. I went to the back of the building instead. I saw two vans with blacked-out windows serving as getaway vehicles, and about a dozen armed men in tactical suits stormed out. I didn’t see them carry your girl out, but I’m sure they have her. I couldn’t stay long; there was no place to hide.”

  “You didn’t try to stop them?”

  “Me and what army? And how was I supposed to stop them? By going lion? In the middle of the city with plenty of witnesses around?”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Arcan blamed himself for his failure to protect Yazmina. He was worried about what they would do to her. “I’m useless. I couldn’t help her when she needed me the most.”

  “Come on. Give yourself a break. It’s not your fault. You ain’t superhero.” Cole straightened his back. “Anyway, I followed the building manager to your apartment. We found you lying in a pool of blood. Honestly, Cuz, you had me worried back there; I thought you were dead.”

  “Tch.” Arcan made a face. “Who do you think I am? A few bullets can’t kill me.”

  Cole tutted in return. “Right. You’re lucky none of those bullets hit your vital organs. The building manager called the ambulance. The police were also involved. They want to ask you questions once you’re up.”

  Arcan groaned. “I can’t do that. I can’t possibly say anything without implicating Yazmina.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. Cyeon and the others are coming tomorrow. We gotta smuggle you out of this hospital as soon as you’re up to it.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.” Arcan yanked the sheet off and tried to sit up, but he was too disoriented to move.

  “Slow down, cowboy.” Cole pushed him back onto the bed. “We have to wait until the drugs are flushed out of your system. I’ll handle the authorities until you can walk. Just pretend you’re asleep or something.”

  Arcan shook his head. “I can’t relax while Yazmina is missing. I must get to her.”

  “In your condition? I don’t think so. Once Cyeon and the others arrive in Dubai, we’ll figure out how to get her back.”

  “But she might be in danger—”

  “No buts. You can either rest or I can knock you out. You pick.”

  “You’re a dick.”

  A smirk curled on Cole’s lips. He moved from the stool to a chair by the window and opened a magazine. “Shall I sing you a lullaby to help you sleep?”

  “No thanks. I’d rather have a root canal than hear you sing.”

  “Tch! Everyone’s a critic.”

  Chapter Six

  Yazmina felt groggy when she floated back to reality. She found herself locked in a sparsely furnished room. There was no window, so she couldn’t guess where she was. She hoisted herself up from the bed and trudged to the opposite side. She pressed her ear to the wooden door, listening.

  If her kidnappers had spirited her to Al-Ain, where the Bedouin clan lived, she’d hear nothing but silence.

  Faintly, she could hear the sound of cars and traffic. She allowed herself a small measure of relief. She was sure she was still in the city. If she could escape from this room, she’d have a better chance of finding Arcan. If she were taken to Al-Ain, her chances of escape were slim. The travel alone took more than eight hours through rough terrain and harsh desert. And she’d be easily caught if she tried to flee on foot. Plus, she had no sense of direction. She’d probably get lost in the desert and die of dehydration.

  Her spirits diminished by the second. So much for her fate. Was this her punishment for defying her father?

  Yazmina trudged back to the thin mattress in the corner of the room and sank onto it. Her heart hurt. What had happened to Arcan? They’d shot him. Was he dead? Did he survive?

  Tears streamed down her cheeks without her realizing it. She cried in silence. After yearning so much for a man that she could love with all her heart, in the blink of the eye, she’d lost him.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Why did fate have to be so cruel to her?

  Yazmina bit her lip so she wouldn’t make a sound. She clutched her chest. It hurt. Damn, it hurt so much that she’d rather die than be tormented by this kind of pain for the rest of her life.

  Arcan Rarh.

  She missed him terribly; she could feel herself slowly withering.

  Her train of thought was disrupted when someone opened the door. She was surprised when she saw her oldest brother, Fatah, enter the room. Fatah was the appointed heir of the family, and he would take over the family business when their father retired. Her brother had spent half his life abroad studying. Yazmina only saw him during the holidays. Even though they’d rarely met in person, Fatah was the one who paid attention to her the most. He called and wrote to her quite often.

  Yazmina sensed that her brother was beyond angry even though he didn’t show it. Fatah was a master at concealing his feelings. He grabbed a chair and dragged it next to the mattress. For a long moment, he only sat and stared at her without a word. Yazmina couldn’t meet his accusing eyes. She’d rather have Fatah shouting at her or something. This silent treatment was slowly killing her.

  After a few minutes, her brother finally spoke. “Hal ante fassida? Are you tainted?”

  Out of nowhere, a surge of anger rose in her throat. She met her brother’s eyes evenly. “I’m not tainted. I gave myself to a man I loved. He’s my future husband.”

  “Did an Imam marry the two of you?”

  “We didn’t have the opportunity.”

  “Then what you did is zinah. You know what happens to a woman who commits zinah.”

  “Fine. Stone me to death. I have no regrets for what I have done. I have nothing to live for anymore. The men you hired killed him.”

  Fatah’s face darkened. “Foolish girl. If you hadn’t run away from home, none of this would’ve happened. As we speak, Father is being treated in the hospital. He had a heart attack. All because of what you did.”

  Yazmina fell into silence. She should be worried about her father’s condition, but strangely she didn’t feel anything.

  “Well?” Fatah pressed. “You have nothing to say?”

  Yazmina looked up. “You expect my sympathy, Brother? Father traded me for a horse to a man old enough to be our grandfather. So forgive me if I don’t feel anything if Father is ill because of me.”

  Her brother’s jaw twitched. “You stupid girl. You don’t know his plan. You think Father would gladly give you to those Bedu without reservation? Father had a plan to make Jabbur divorce you. Now, because of what you did, Father is losing face to Chief Jabbur. Not only that, you also dishonored our family with your actions.”

  “Father planned to make Jabbur divorce me? When? After he ravaged me? After I bore him a child? A real father wouldn’t trade his daughter in the first place. A real father would have protected me from those kinds of men. I am a human being, not cattle you can trade for your own profit!”

  Fatah backhanded her. “It would still be better than the zinah you committed!”

  Yazmina closed her eyes. Her cheek stung from the slap. “I don’t care anymore!” She was exhausted be
yond words—emotionally and physically. “Do as you will, Brother. I’ll gladly take the punishment for my actions.”

  Fatah made a noise of disgust and got up from the chair immediately. “Jabbur’s people will come in two days. I hope Father will be well enough to talk to them. Your fate will be decided then.”

  She snapped her eyes open. “What will become of me?”

  “I don’t know, Sister. I truly don’t.”

  Fatah left the room and locked the door from the outside.

  Yazmina fell back onto the mattress. She wanted to cry, but there were no more tears left. The pain in her heart gradually turned into numbness.

  She thought of Arcan. His smile. His tender touches. The way he loved her, and the way he made her feel special and protected. Arcan, I’m sorry…

  The thing she regretted the most was that she didn’t have the chance to say goodbye.

  Chapter Seven

  Arcan slept for a couple more hours. Cole had sneaked him some buns and a protein drink so he could recover faster. Arcan had demolished everything and was letting his cells regenerate and repair his injuries. He stirred awake when Cole was arguing with some people that sounded like the police. The doctor who treated him backed Cole up, saying that the patient was heavily sedated and in no condition to answer any questions. Arcan grinned in secret. Beneath the bloodstained bandages, all of the bullet wounds had already knitted closed. Another hour, and he’d be able to shift.

  Cole and the doctor conversed for a few more minutes. The doctor excused himself to treat other patients.

  Arcan opened his eyes. “Were they the police?”

  “Yeah. How are you feeling? Can you walk yet?”

  “I can.”

  How about your injuries?”

  “I think they already closed, but I can’t shift yet.”

  “Then we better get you out of here. If the doctor finds out you healed at this rate, they’ll hold you and use you as an experimental subject.”