Savage Exile: Lion Hearts Book Five Page 8

  She’d expected roars and growls. Blood. The smell of sweat and booze. The conversation put too much emphasis on the feeling she desperately wanted to avoid.

  Sage tilted her head and watched him from under her lashes. Crazy lion, that’s what he let the others see, but there was more to him. He’d stopped himself from going off the deep end just so she wouldn’t be surrounded by potential threats. “Because you’re not ready to die.”

  “And you are?” he asked harshly.

  She flinched and dropped her eyes to her lap.

  Rhys’s voice was softer than before. “Lindley told me what you want.”

  “Does everyone know?” she seethed under her breath.

  “Would that bother you?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “If that’s what you want, nothing I say will change your mind. I don’t know about your brother, but your secret is safe with me. But,” he drew out the word and took a sip of his beer as if he needed to consider his next words. His smirk returned, too, pairing with a bubbly scent of mischief, “until you tell me to get fucked, I’ve decided to take you on.”

  Sage turned her full face to him. Surprise fluttered through her stomach, followed by confusion. “Take me on?”

  “Yeah,” he answered with a casual shrug. “Yeah. I’m going to see you wanting to live.”

  “What about you?” she asked softly. “Who’s going to stop you from living out your days in a hole in the ground?”

  He gave a slow shake of his head. “There’s no saving me, little cat.”

  Maybe they were both doomed. Or maybe they were both wrong. “Sounds like someone needs to take you on, too.”

  Rhys flashed a tiny smile, and Sage leaned back. She had the distinct impression that she’d stumbled into a trap. She very well couldn’t give up on her own life if she was occupied making sure he made it to the next day without mauling someone.

  She expected something from her lioness. Maybe an objection. A roar. Some claws.

  The confusing beast simply sank down and watched him.

  She jumped when the bar door slammed shut. She and Rhys both landed their attention on the corner where the two loudmouths had sat. Unease crept up her spine at the empty table.

  Hector approached again, casting a dark look on the door. His lips pursed as if he didn’t like the taste of whatever he had on his tongue. “Those two,” he said finally, “they’ve been asking about your people.”

  Chapter 12

  If she hadn’t been sitting, Sage would have sank down to her ass.

  Strangers. Strangers asking questions. He didn’t offer specifics, but the gravity in his voice let her mind fill in the words. How many, routines and schedules, maps of the territory and floor plans of their dens…

  Okay, the last were so impossible they wouldn’t have even asked, but she was in full tailspin. Strangers asking questions didn’t mean pleasant town chatter. Trouble had hung over the pride since tracks appeared in their territory, and she had the sinking feeling that it’d arrived.

  “And that’s why you always tip your bartender,” Rhys muttered, pulling out his wallet and stuffing some bills into the dusty tip jar.

  Sage barely heard him. Her breath sounded loud in her own ears. “What are we going to do?” she squeaked out.

  “We are doing nothing. You are getting in the truck and going back to the ranch.” He slid her his keys, silver eyes lifting upward.

  “What about the others? Can’t they help?”

  The door swung open before he could answer, and the two shifters sauntered back inside.

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Sage sat back down and pressed her hands to her thighs to hide their shaking.

  Rhys dropped his hand over hers. Heat sank deep into her bones, then worked its way up her arm and into her chest. It wrapped around her heart, but couldn’t calm the rapid beat.

  “You’ll be safe,” he promised.

  His hand disappeared just as one of the two loudmouths leaned against the bar next to her.

  “This guy ain’t giving you trouble, is he?” the man asked.

  “Fuck off,” Rhys snarled.

  “Just go,” Sage murmured.

  The other male leaned closer. “Your buddy here needs to learn some fuckin’ manners. All I want to do is buy you a drink. That’s it. Let’s be friends, eh?”

  “Rhys,” she warned under her breath. She doubted he’d have heard even if she shouted it with her mouth pressed against his ear. The man left the ranch looking for a fight, and one dropped right into his lap.

  His friend pushed between her and Rhys, and reached forward to tug on the end of her braid.

  Big mistake. Rhys’s growl turned absolutely cold and deadly. He rushed to his feet faster than she could track, and blasted the man across the jaw with a hard punch.

  Sage swore she heard Hector sigh at the other end of the bar, but she didn’t have time to worry about him going for the rifle he supposedly kept stashed in case of brawling emergency. The man on her other side threw himself into the fight, shoulder catching her and shoving her into the bar as he rushed past.

  Rhys whipped around at her sudden expulsion of breath. Silver churned in his eyes. The bright, dangerous look locked on the one who shoved her. His hand shot out and wrapped in the man’s collar, then yanked him away with all his might.

  Another shove sent the man sprawling backwards against a table, windmilling arms doing nothing to keep him upright. The second was all Rhys needed to twist back to his original target and send him flying toward the door, too.

  A snarl sawed in and out of his chest. Punches and shoves kept the fight moving steadily away from the bar. Away from her, really, though she ignored the warmth spreading through her middle at the protectiveness.

  She was on her feet and following the destruction as soon as he shoved the first through the door. The second tried to cower away, but another hand wrapped in his shirt dragged him into the sunlight anyway.

  Rhys was vicious and absolutely dominating from the get go. He twisted and turned with all the speed she remembered from the first time she saw him out of control in his lion form. While he didn’t have fangs or claws to shred his opponents, he went after them just as fiercely with his fists.

  Bang!

  Sage slapped her hands over her ears, but the damage was done. She twisted around to find Hector in the doorway, rifle still in his hands. The ringing in her ears covered whatever threats he shouted at the brawlers, but the way he lowered the gun from warning shot above their heads to chest-level made his intent clear as day.

  That moment of shock was all their attackers needed to scramble out of reach and bolt for their truck.

  Rhys spun around the moment they were out of sight and strode right for her. His arms snapped out, one hand fisting in her hair and the other landing on her hip. His eyes shined bright, bright silver as he bent and crushed his lips to hers.

  There was nothing gentle about the kiss. Nothing reassuring. His mouth moved against hers with harsh precision. He was raw, uncontained power. Her entire body buzzed with it as if she’d picked up a live wire.

  She couldn’t let go, either.

  He crowded her closer to the side of his truck, one thigh pressed between her legs. So easy to roll her hips against him and claim another shred of pleasure. So damned easy to slice a claw down the front of his shirt to feel his skin against hers.

  He swiped his tongue against the seam of her lips, and there was nothing to do but open for him. Decadent mocha and spicy cayenne pepper hit her taste buds, giving her an extra kick amid the delicious stroking of his tongue against hers. Her head swam with the combination, her body simmered under his touch, and she bunched her hands in his shirt just to keep upright.

  She hadn’t felt so alive since… since...

  No. She clawed for purchase to stay in the moment. She didn’t want to go back to being scared and helpless. She wanted to feel as powerful as that carving looked.

  He was so big. Bigger than she could fight off for l
ong. The scar on her collarbone burned at the remembered feeling of claws dragging along her skin. Her neck itched with the silver that had kept her locked down and small when she wanted to shift and run.

  No. Not Rhys. That wasn’t Rhys.

  Sage shoved hard on his chest, but he didn’t move other than to tighten his hand in her hair. Her inner cat purred at that, but Sage couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think, other than to feel like the walls were closing in on her.

  She shoved again, and this time he stumbled back. She did, too, bringing her fingers to her lips and eyeing him like a dangerous animal.

  He wasn’t dangerous.

  She shoved back on her lioness. The sickly creature didn’t have any idea what she wanted.

  But good skies above, the man could kiss.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, dragging clean air into her lungs. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Regret flashed in his eyes, right there with the hunger that still lurked in the silver. He wanted her, still, with his blood up and fresh off a fight, but he knew when to back off.

  Rhys lifted a hand slowly and rubbed a knuckle over her cheek, then reached around her to open the door. “Let’s get you back to your den before anyone else shows up,” he said, voice thick with denied need.

  Hands shaking, she loaded into the truck and let him shut her inside.

  Sage watched him from the corner of her eye as soon as he took his place behind the wheel. Every inch of him was tight and tense with power, from the hand he used to shove his hair out of his eyes to the shoulders set in a stiff line.

  She knew she needed to process what just happened. Questions were being asked about the pride. They’d been attacked in a bar! That could only mean more trouble was on the horizon.

  But Rhys held her entire attention.

  He wasn’t anything she expected.

  Standing with her. Guarding her door against monsters hunting in the shadows. And now, this. Fighting for her, then kissing her within an inch of her life. Backing off when she couldn’t handle being that close to so much raw, frenzied energy.

  Two minutes. She just wanted two minutes to consider than man before she gave in to the panic waiting right around the corner.

  He was devastating every hint of wanting to leave the world behind.

  Chapter 13

  “We’re being followed.”

  Sage jerked straight in her seat. The gaze she had locked somewhere in the distance slashed toward the mirrors. Her heart crept up her throat as the seconds dragged by with no vehicles reflecting back at her. She wanted to believe Rhys was mistaken, that whoever he’d seen made a turn to veer them off to their final destination.

  Except there weren’t any other ranches on this stretch of road.

  She swallowed down a note of panic when the front of a black SUV edged around a bend in the road. Two more were right behind it.

  Coincidence. It could still be coincidence. It was a damn road! Anyone was free to travel on it.

  Rhys watched the mirror and slowly pressed his foot on the accelerator.

  The lead vehicle inched closer.

  Her lioness twisted inside her as fear crawled up her spine. Her every hair stood on end. She bounced her eyes between the road ahead, looking for the first fence post that marked her pride’s territory, and the SUVs at their back. She almost sagged with relief when they shot past the marker, but their pursuers didn’t play by childhood rules of safe bases.

  “Hold on,” Rhys growled.

  She barely had time to grab the bar above the window before he spun the steering wheel and bounced them over the cattle grate at the edge of Crowley territory. The signs advising visitors to GO AWAY and FUCK OFF flashed as they sped past. The words seemed like a spell at that moment, and she hoped, wished, and prayed they were taken as orders.

  Please, she silently chanted. Please, please, please.

  A tiny, helpless mewl escaped her lips when the first SUV swerved down the ranch road.

  Rhys let off a snarl. He dug his phone out of his pocket and punched a button.

  “We have company,” he growled to the voice on the other end. He slid a glance her way. “Yes, she’s fucking with me. Tell him to unbunch his panties. We’ll be there in five.”

  The words didn’t make any damn sense to her with the blood rushing in her ears. Her stomach twisted and churned and threatened to heave up everything she’d eaten in the last eight months.

  They were coming for her. She could already feel the silver collar snapping around her neck.

  Sage threw herself out of the truck the moment he slammed to a stop in front of Trent’s den. The others already stood waiting, the air thick and heavy with murderous anticipation. Kyla reached for her as she dashed up the porch steps, and she flung herself into the arms of her friend.

  A trio of black SUVs roared to a stop in front of the den. Tinted windows kept the passengers hidden from view until a door pushed open and one man stepped out. The light rain dulled his scent, but the baked earth of lions made Sage want to cower.

  They were the only pride in all of Bearden. Unknown maned visitors only meant trouble.

  Sage stiffened the moment she recognized Roland Levine, her father.

  The ground shifted under her feet. Locking her knees kept her upright, but the rest of the world seemed to shudder and shake, with the horizon threatening to tip straight up and send everything in the current plane of existence sliding off into nothing.

  This was it. She’d been on the edge of her seat since Kyla and Lindley and all the others dragged her out of hell. The mark on her shoulder may as well have been a hook and tether to the dark underworld. They were ready to yank her back into eternal misery.

  She blinked to clear her vision, but the whole world still rocked back and forth like a ship in choppy seas. Worse, she wasn’t hallucinating. Her father really stood in front of her.

  Eight months, and she could still feel his hands around her throat. He’d wanted to hurt Lindley the night the Crowleys tore through Jasper’s pride to rescue Kyla. She’d just been a bonus at the time, an unexpected surprise after weeks of searching by her friend and her brother, but her father specialized in destroying any shred of happiness. That she was his daughter didn’t matter when he slid a claw over her throat and threatened to torture her while his son watched. She was a tool to him, nothing more.

  And now here he was again, ripping the ground out from under her feet.

  Not that she expected anything else. She knew the role she’d been born to play. Sit, stay quiet, do as she was told. Be a pawn for alliances. Mate the man her father selected. Have cubs to carry on the shitty traditions when she was long gone.

  She wanted no part of the bullshit, but just like the night she’d been sold, she didn’t see any way out.

  Lindley folded his arms over his chest and scowled. “You’ve got a lot of balls to show up here.”

  “Balls have never been my problem, boy.” Roland stepped forward with a cocky smirk on his face. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  “That’s far enough.” Trent snapped. “In fact, you can load yourself back up and get the hell out of my territory.”

  The Crowley alpha dropped down a step, but Sage doubted he did it to put himself on an even level with her father. The position stood him apart from the pride, sending off a signal that he was in charge and if Roland wanted to get to any of them, he’d have to go through Trent first.

  Respectable, that. She shouldn’t have expected anything else. Trent was a good man. A good alpha. He headed up some of the wildest lions she knew, but he wasn’t like her father or Jasper. Where they only sought power, Trent kept a steady hand on his lions simply to keep them alive.

  “Have it your way.” Her father shrugged up a shoulder. “We can do this here.”

  Sage didn’t fall for the feigned nonchalance. His eyes spiked with amber before he swallowed down the anger. It was a look she recognized from her childhood. Danger waited for the next person who
looked at him wrong.

  Her inner cat howled and paced, driving her anxiety even higher with every flick of her tail. All her instincts screamed at her to run, hide, and make sure she wasn’t the one to catch his attention. If she wasn’t rooted in place, she’d dive through the door, out the back, and keep running until her legs gave out.

  “Your uncle has a proposal,” Roland started. “In light of recent events, he’s willing to let slide certain grievances for a small price. He doesn’t want any bad blood to get in the way of his plans.”

  Trent barked a laugh. “So he’s lost too many of his supporters, the Feds are closing in on your asses, and you don’t want to watch your flank in case we get there first. I’ll bite. What does that fuck think we’ll give to end the threat posed by a ragtag group of idiots who couldn’t manage to stay out of SEA hands?”

  “You’d be surprised at the numbers we can call.” Roland pressed his lips together in a harsh smile. “Besides, those worthless humans didn’t hold us for long, did they?”

  Behind her, Lilah stiffened. Sage felt the anger and frustration washing off the new lioness. She’d been caught up in Jasper’s plans to break out of Shiftermax, and lost a trusted colleague in the process.

  She wasn’t the only one touched by Jasper and his lions. Nearly everyone in the pride had suffered in one way or another.

  Unfair. It was so fucking unfair. They’d caused enough trouble. Hurt enough people. Skies above, where was the justice? Why did they get to keep coming back like some sick horror movie villain while the rest of them waited with bated breath for the next round of fuckery?

  “As to his ask... Where is she? Saa-age, come out, come out, wherever you are!” Roland made a show of bringing his hand to shield his eyes from the rays of a nonexistent sun and peeking around the others. “There she is! My wayward daughter!”

  Lindley stepped forward with a fierce growl. “Stay the fuck away from her.”

  Their father slashed him a sly look, then pointed a finger directly at her. “You’ve been remiss in your duties, sweets.”