“It’s perfect for his purposes. He can challenge me directly there, on our own territory. Make it official.” Leander was already moving, flagging another cab. “And if he wants to settle this the old way, with violence and dominance, he’s picked the right place for it.”
“Helicopter,” Travis said grimly as they climbed into the second cab. “It’s the fastest way to get there.”
“Airport,” Leander told the driver, his voice carrying an authority that made the man nod without question.
As they raced through the city streets, Leander’s blood sang with anticipation and fury. Twelve years ago, he’d sworn he would never kill again unless he had no choice. Today, Damian Cross was about to discover that threatening Leander’s mate constituted exactly that kind of choice.
His lion roared its agreement, already tasting blood.
Forty-five minutes later, the helicopter’s rotors cut through the salt-tinged air as they descended toward the familiar expanse of pride lands, the estate’s sprawling grounds stretching toward the Atlantic like a territorial claim. Leander’s hands gripped the seat, his knuckles white with restraint as the aircraft touched down with mechanical precision that felt agonizingly slow compared to the urgency clawing at his chest.
The moment his feet hit solid ground, Camille’s voice sliced through his consciousness again, clearer now that distance had shortened between them.
The Hamptons. Near the woods.
Relief and fury warred in his chest. She was here, on his territory, but the violation of it—Damian bringing his schemes to the one place that should have been sanctuary—ignited something primal and unforgiving in his lion.
Hold on,he projected back, pouring every ounce of his strength and determination through their bond.I’m coming for you.
The rational part of him that had built empires and negotiated million-dollar deals evaporated like morning mist. What remained was older, simpler, and infinitely more dangerous. His mate was in danger. Everything else ceased to matter.
Without conscious thought, Leander’s body began the transformation he’d been suppressing for hours. Bones lengthened and reformed, muscles expanded with violent efficiency, and golden-brown fur erupted across skin that stretched to accommodate his true form. The shift happened faster than it ever had before, driven by desperation and rage that demanded immediate action.
Beside him, Travis mirrored the transformation with equal urgency, his darker coat gleaming in the afternoon sun. The two lions stood for a moment, massive predators whose very presence seemed to charge the air with electricity.
Then Leander’s lion caught the scent.
Camille’s familiar fragrance—vanilla and determination and something uniquely her—threaded through the coastal breeze like a lifeline. But underneath it lurked something that made his lion’s hackles rise. Fear. Sharp, acrid terror that had no place anywhere near his mate.
The scent trail led into the dense woods that bordered the estate, winding through ancient oaks and pine that had witnessed generations of pride history. Leander followed it with single-minded focus, his powerful legs eating up ground as Travis kept pace beside him. Every step brought Camille’s scent stronger, mixed now with Damian’s distinctive musk and the metallic tang of adrenaline.
The trail terminated at a weathered cabin tucked deep in the forest. Through the windows, Leander could see movement—two figures, one standing, one seated.
His mate. And the bastard who’d taken her.
Leander didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pause to strategize or consider alternatives. The cabin door exploded inward under the force of his charge, wood splintering like kindling as eight hundred pounds of enraged lion burst into the confined space.
Camille sat on a threadbare couch, her blue eyes wide with relief and residual fear. Damian loomed over her, his hand reaching toward her face in what might have been a caress or a threat. The sight of another man touching his mate—even the possibility of it—triggered something so volcanic in Leander’s chest that the world briefly went red.
But Damian was no fool. The moment Leander’s massive form filled the doorway, his rival was already shifting, bones cracking and reforming as he took his own lion shape. Where Leander was golden power and controlled fury, Damian was darker and leaner, his mane nearly black and his eyes burning with ambition that had finally found its target.
The two lions faced each other across the small room, the air crackling with the kind of tension that preceded either submission or death. Camille pressed herself against the couch, out of immediate reach but still far too close to the violence about to unfold.
Damian struck first, launching himself with the desperate fury of someone who had nothing left to lose. His claws raked across Leander’s shoulder, drawing blood that only fueled the alpha rage. They crashed into the cabin’s furniture, sending a wooden table flying as they grappled for dominance.
This wasn’t the controlled sparring of pride challenges. This was warfare—brutal, unforgiving, with only one possible outcome. Damian fought like a cornered animal, using every dirty trick he’d learned in twelve years of nursing his grudges. His teeth found purchase along Leander’s flank, and his claws sought eyes and throat with surgical precision.
But Leander fought for something Damian could never understand. Not ambition or pride or the hollow satisfaction of power, but for the woman whose fear he could taste through their bond. For the future they’d planned and the life they deserved to build together. For love that had transformed himfrom a man afraid to feel into someone willing to die today protecting what mattered most.
The battle raged across the cabin’s confines, both lions bloodied but neither yielding. Damian was skilled, experienced, and desperate enough to be dangerous. But Leander was fighting for his mate, and that made all the difference.
Then Camille moved.
From the corner of his eye, Leander saw her rise from the couch, her movements swift and determined. She grabbed the iron fire poker from beside the hearth, its weight solid in her hands as she circled toward Damian’s exposed flank.
No,Leander tried to project, terror for her safety momentarily overriding even his need to defeat his rival.Stay back.
But his mate had made her choice. With the same fierce determination that had driven her to stand up to her parents, to choose love, to build a life on her own terms, Camille drove the poker deep into Damian’s side.
