“Absolutely. Evren offers them an escape from the expectations of shifter society, just in a different way than Raiden. Rather than give them somewhere safe to live and hide, he gives thempower.Pays them well so they aren’t reliant on marriage to survive, lets them turn the tables and give the men a chance to feel helpless, to accept only what they’re given. Sure, he uses them for his own financial gain, but they’re well-aware of what they’ve been hired to do and happily consider it worth the benefits.”
She watches them for another twenty minutes, absorbing every minute detail while I enjoy the perfect view beside me. Whether it’s because she doesn’t want to draw any more attention to herself by nervously squirming in her seat, or because she trusts me to keep her safe, Amara keeps her eyes on the stage while petting Avery instead of obsessively searching her surroundings. My chest tightens at how much that must be costing her, to trust me to guard her back implicitly.
A chill runs down my spine a split second before a breathless, “You’re here,” is whispered a short distance behind me.
Animalistic instinct takes over, and before I know it, I have Amara dragged out of her seat and sideways across my lap. Logic has completely gone out the window, or I’d have left my hands free to fight. Instead, the only thing that matters in the heat of the moment is assuring myself that she’s safe. Mine. And no one is going to take her from me.
Her nails bite into her palms, Avery reacting to our abrupt movements and ruffling her feathers, fluttering up to perch on Amara’s shoulder. She doesn’t manage more than an audible swallow in reply, her spike of fear tangible in the air, but she doesn’t try to run.
The warning rumble building in my chest has my voice coming out barely more than a snarl, drawing the startled eyes of everyone nearby as I pivot in my seat. “Close your eyes if you don’t want to watch me pull his spine out through his throat.”
Most of the color has drained from her face, but Amara unclenches one fist to rest her palm against my chest. She has to clear her throat twice before she can speak, holding Malcolm’s gaze all the while. Voice quieter than usual, but steady, she says, “Kodiak swore up and down you wouldn’t be here tonight, but I had a feeling you’d show up.”
And we reassured her it was impossible, that Kodiak’s system was air-tight and all of the entrances had guards posted. Son of a bitch, no wonder she’s seemed off today. She was bracing herself to face her demons head on.
Malcolm shoots me a vicious glare that completely evaporates before he returns his attention to Amara, replaced with blatant yearning. “Evren reached out with a last minute invitation; said he had something I’d be interested in. The Fates seemed to have aligned in my favor this evening.”
“They haven’t, we were just leaving.”
That glare is back on me again, and I tense, running hypothetical plans through my head. Until I know what his ability is, there are too many variables. My best bet is using myself as a shield for his first strike, then attacking accordingly. The problem lies in Amara being vulnerable while I’m distracted until security calls Kodiak, or Raiden returns.
Fuck Evren’s warning. I’ll shift, tear his throat out, then bust out the wall and fly us out of here. Simple, yet effective.
I shove the table away from the booth, preparing to rise to my feet, when several growls surround us, and I’m forced to tear my attention away from Malcolm long enough to note five other shifters with their nostrils flared and pupils blown. Before I have to wonder, Malcolm spits through gritted teeth, “She’s. Bleeding. At least treat her goddamn wounds before carting her off to lock away again until the next time you feel like dragging her out to show off like a pretty doll.” He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket, withdrawing a handkerchief and offering it to her.
If I can just lay a hand on him, I can find out what he can do. Breaking his arm at the same time is simply a bonus.
Fighting every one of my instincts, I remain carefully relaxed as he reaches closer, stroking a thumb reassuringly over the top of Amara’s thigh. Before I can move, though, Avery launches off of Amara’s shoulder with an indignant cry. Taking a swipe at him, she slashes her talons down Malcolm’s wrist and thumb, leaving bloody rivulets behind. With a curse, he yanks his hand back, sending another death glare my way like I was the one that sicced the falcon on him.
Amara takes a shuddering breath, sitting straighter and wiping her bloody palms on the skirt of her dress before hugging Avery to her chest as she circles back, anxiously petting her. “I’m fine. More than fine, I’m great. Better than ever.”
Malcolm doesn’t answer, he simply stares at Amara like she’s his salvation, something too good for this world that he doesn’t deserve, but can’t look away from. Desperate for her to love him back. I hate him for so many reasons, but right now, for making me understand where he’s coming from for the first time, because I look at her the same way.
Amara is... everything. And he sees that, covets her to the point of obsession. But she’s not his, and never will be. Fate’s already blessed my brothers and me with her mark, and if he can’t accept that, killing him is actually a mercy. One he doesn’t deserve.
“You heard the lady. She’s not your concern; she’s mine.”
Brushing my lips across the pinpricks of blood on her shoulder, I hold his stare, watching his jaw tic and expression harden. It soothes some of the raging instincts churning in my gut, and as I tighten my grip on her thigh, nipping at the side of her throat and raking my teeth gently over her skin, that sense of peace spreads even further.
The men around us have stopped growling, gleaning enough from the interaction to rationalize away their own impulsive desires to swoop in when an injured female is in their midst. Nobody wants to come between two dragons fighting over a woman, but they damn well want to watch it play out. Even the strippers have given up on regaining anyone’s attention, watching on with equal fascination and concern. Two seconds later, several members of security swoop in, sensing the shift in the air from normal tension of clashing shifters turning into something more.
Two guns are trained on each of us, one of the guards barking, “Time to walk away, fellas, while you’re still able to. You know the house rules. No fighting inside the club.”
Tapping his ear piece, another murmurs, “You’re gonna want to come to the first floor, boss. Pissing contest over your girl.”
I’ve tried killing myself several times over the course of history, and know firsthand that I can survive a bullet to the brain. What’s more surprising is that Malcolm isn’t backing down in the face of a couple of guns inches from his head either.
He takes a deep breath, plastering a smile on his face and tugging his sleeve down over the bloody scratches that are already beginning to heal, a sinking feeling slowly settling in my gut. “I would think for someone that’s been around as long as you, Stone, you’d have learned that rarely when a woman says she’s ‘fine’ does she actually mean it. But that’s just the way your legion does things, isn’t it? Hearing only what you want to hear, and doing whatever you like, as if you’re untouchable gods us lesser beings should bow to the whims of, lest we incur your wrath.”
Raiden returned in enough time to catch the end of his speech. Immediately, he rakes his gaze over Amara head to toe, expression turning murderous at the sight of blood darkening the skirt of her dress. In less than a blink, his fist is driving into Malcolm’s jaw, knocking him back into one of the guards.
Amara yelps when one of the other security guards wraps an arm around Raiden’s neck and drags him back a few steps, putting his gun to Raiden’s temple. “Don’t make me get fired over this, Garrison. He didn’t touch your mate; stand down.”
Amara lifts her palms to show the crescent arcs from her nails. “He’s right, just nerves, and all you missed was the two of them sniping at each other. I’m okay, Raiden.Breathe.No need for anyone to get shot on my account.”
Palming her cheek, I force her attention onto me and demand, “Can I kill him now?”
One of the men beside me cocks his gun.
