Shifter's Lady (6 page)

“No, I do not need the hospital or one of your human doctors. Although they are quite fine at their craft,” she tacked on, not wanting to offend him.

As she wiped the gravel and debris out of her wounds, she fought to keep from wincing too much, since every involuntary flinch seemed to sear through Ethan, as well. “It looks worse than it is, perhaps,” she lied.

“He hurt you,” Ethan said in a feral tone of voice she'd never heard from him before. “There could be nothing worse.”

Her anger at herself returned. “I was useless. I have the ability to call water, and I never thought to use it. I was rendered completely immobile from shock and fear.”

He lifted a dangling strand of her hair and tucked it behind her shoulder. “That's nothing to be ashamed of, Marie. You're not used to violence. I was damn near frozen, too, when I saw that knife pressed against your throat.”

She shuddered. “I have never been touched in anger of any kind, let alone harmed or threatened. The violence of it is soul-deadening, is it not?”

Ethan stood, clenching his fists and paced back and forth in the small space, as if the fury riding him needed some outlet before he exploded. “Yeah. It is. And those of us who live by violence wonder sometimes if there is anything left of our soul.”

She finished cleaning her wounds and folded the towel and placed it on the floor. “You echo the concerns my brother and his fellow warriors have all shared at times. But when there is no recourse but for violence, and it is done in the name of protecting the defenseless, surely the gods will forgive any stain upon the soul caused by the doing of it?”

He crossed back to her and crouched down next to her. “I don't know the answer to that. The doings of gods are far above my territory. But we need to get you to a hospital, please, Marie. Your neck is still bleeding.”

She drew a deep breath. “First may I hold your hands?”

He unclenched his hands and held them out to her. “That's the best offer I've had all day.”

She smiled a little at his attempt at humor, then took his hands in her own. The healing was fairly minor, but she was weakened by the residual fear and the pain. She could amplify her healing
powers through the strength of another, and she suspected Ethan's strength was far and away powerful enough to assist her. “Please hold still and do not remove your hands while I do this. You will feel a faint warmth.”

He nodded, and she closed her eyes and called to the Goddess. “O, Goddess of the Nereids, it is your First Maiden who calls upon you. Please lend me your strength and your healing and your power, through my own small means and through the freely offered power of this man before me. Heal my injuries that I may serve you in full measure, O Lady.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the pain in her hands, knees, and throat, and the rapid beating of her heart, caused as much by the feel of Ethan's hands in her own as by her injuries, she suspected.

Suddenly, the warm glow she'd experienced before in hundreds of healings swept through her body, focused and concentrated on the wounded areas of her skin. Even as the healing sent shimmers of sparkling heat through her, she watched the abrasions and cuts heal before her eyes. Ethan made some small noise, and she looked up to find his face mere inches from hers, his eyes wide.

“It's like magic,” he murmured.

She smiled at him, invigorated by the healing power of her Goddess. “You who are part human and part beautiful, lethal cat would doubt the existence of magic?”

“Any man who looked at you could not doubt the existence of magic, Marie,” he said. His eyes darkened to a burnished gold, and he leaned forward and kissed her.

He kissed her, and the healing warmth exploded into an inferno. Flames swept through her body and her blood, and she was helpless to do anything but lean into his kiss. He never released her hands, but somehow she was on his lap and felt the hardness of his desire pressing against her.

Ethan's tongue pressed against her lips, demanding entrance, and she could do nothing but accept him, surrender to the passion of his kiss, and moan at the rightness of it. He kissed her until she could not breathe, and then he lifted his head to stare at her, shock plain on his face.

She began to pull back, suddenly shy, still dazed from the intense hunger sweeping through her merely from the feel of his mouth on hers. But he shook his head and, releasing her hands,
caught her around the waist and pulled her to him until not even a breath of air could have found passage in the space between them.

“Oh, no,” he said, voice husky. “Let's try that again on our own, okay?”

She had a fraction of a heartbeat to realize that the Goddess had gone—the healing was complete—and then he caught her lips with his own again.

This time the fire was generated solely between the two of them, and she could not blame any of it on the healing warmth. Ethan kissed her as if she were a feast and he a starving man. He kissed her as though she were the prey and he a stalking predator. She succumbed, surrendered, clutching at his shoulders, wondering who was making that whimpering noise and then finally realizing it came from her own throat.

He left her mouth and pressed hot kisses to her throat, exactly on the now-healed spot where the knife blade had cut into her skin. “Never again, ocean girl,” he murmured so softly she almost didn't catch the words. “Never again will anyone harm you. I swear this on my oath as alpha.”

He lifted his head and stared into her eyes, and something of enormous importance passed between them, but she could not decipher it.

Refused to decipher it.

Fear of drowning, of entangling herself in the depths of a passion so far beyond any that she had known, shivered a sheet of ice through her, and she pulled away from him. “Ethan. No, Ethan, stop.”

He instantly pulled back from her, his breathing harsh in the quiet room. “I didn't mean to scare you, Marie. I'm so sorry. Damn, I'm no better than…Please forgive me.”

She lifted a hand, wanting to touch him, then clasped her hands together to resist the urge. “No, stop. You have nothing for which to apologize. We were both present and willing in that kiss.”

As the heat stained her cheeks, she forced herself to continue, cloaking herself in the protection of knowledge. “It is a normal response to the release of adrenaline in the body. Similar to the fight or flight mechanism. Attraction…magnifies in the face of danger.”

Ethan lifted one of her long curls into his hand and brought it
to his lips, then let it fall back against her breast. “Trust me, beautiful,” he said, voice husky, “there is nothing normal about my reaction to you. And it started way before we faced any danger.”

He stood up and stared down at her, then shook his head. “Attraction. Now
there's
a tame word. My insides are going to explode if I don't lay you down right here and fuck you until you scream my name.”

Heat shot through her and pooled between her thighs as her body responded to the sheer hunger in his words. “I…I…”

“No. Don't say anything. I'm sorry to be so crude. Pack up your stuff. You're coming with me to my place until we can get you back to Atlantis and out of the way of Travis and his blood feud.”

“But—”

He sliced a hand through the air. “You're going. I command you to leave my territories while there is danger to you.”

Anger shot through her, but she silently stood to comply with his command. As a visiting Atlantean, she could not jeopardize the treaty between their people by defying a command from the alpha.

He started to turn away, then whirled around and yanked her to him, controlled violence in his movement. “But hear me well, ocean girl. When this is over, you're coming back, and we're going to explore this thing between us.”

She lifted her head and gave him her iciest glare. “Hear
me
well, shape-shifter. You do not command the First Maiden of the Nereids. I am not one of your little kittens to be ordered about. You should consider that when you are issuing your various arrogant demands.”

“No, you're definitely not a little kitten. But either you come back, or I'm coming after you, even if I have to swim the whole damned way. You should consider
that.
”

With that, he kissed her again, a fierce, claiming kiss that left her senses whirling and her resolve splintered. Then he pulled away from her and strode over to the door, pulling his phone from his pocket as he walked. “The sooner you're packed, the sooner you can get away from my arrogant demands, Marie,” he said, and then began snarling orders into the phone.

She stood there, wanting nothing more than to slap his egotistical, superior face.

Wanting nothing more than to kiss his egotistical, superior face.

She did neither but simply turned to retrieve her bag as ordered, accepting the truth behind his words. There was certainly something between them that needed to be explored.

If she had the courage to do so.

Ethan led Marie through the throng of silent, wary shape-shifters clustered around the entryway to his headquarters and home. He nodded to William, his second-in-command. “My office in ten minutes. Try to reach Kat. Her cell was turned off when I tried. If it's still off, track her down.”

Marie lifted her head, the strain of the afternoon evident in her pale and drawn face. “She's with her…boss, if that helps, planning a meeting for tomorrow.”

William nodded and headed toward the back of the mansion and Ethan's office, opening his phone as he went. Ethan stopped, realizing the necessity of introductions and some sort of explanation. He put his arm around Marie's shoulders and scanned the group of his pride members who stared at her; some hostile, some neutral. All curious.

“This is Marie, Bastien's sister from Atlantis. She came for a visit and is having the worst damn vacation on record,” he said bluntly. “I'm sure William has told you that Fallon's pride brother, Travis, called alpha challenge upon me.”

He looked around, meeting each gaze, noting and appreciating the anger and loyalty on every face. “We need to return her to Atlantis until I take care of this little problem,” he continued. “In the meantime, I charge every one of you to protect her as if she were your own litter sister.”

A few gasps met his words and more than a few speculative glances were cast Marie's way. But nobody even thought about arguing with him. Gregory, one of his fiercest pride-brothers, stepped forward. “I will guard her with my life, Ethan,” he vowed, dropping to one knee before his alpha and bending his head to bare his neck. “For the honor of the Cypress pride.”

Every panther there echoed the call. “For the honor of the Cypress pride!”

Marie stared around at them, eyes widened and lips parted slightly. She tilted her head to look into his face, and the floor
shifted underneath him when his gaze met hers. The echo of passion from her kisses resonated through his body so hard and fast it was like a body blow. Only the presence of half of his pride prevented him from throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to his bedroom to continue what they'd started on Kat's couch.

He took her hand and headed down the hall toward his guest suite, then changed his mind and veered off to the left toward the master suite. “Now I'm a damn caveman,” he muttered. “Next I'll shift into some kind of saber-toothed tiger.”

He realized Marie was almost running to keep pace with his long strides, so he slowed but did not release her hand.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“Nothing important. This is it. You can stay here until we can reach Alaric to come get you,” he said, flinging open the doors to his rooms.

She followed him into the room, then stopped. “It's very…elegant,” she finally said.

He laughed. “Smooth and diplomatic, I'll give you that. It's a damn bare room.”

He looked around, trying to see the room through her eyes. Devoid of furniture except for a bed covered by a plain blanket, the space was huge and barren.

“Why does the prince of cats lead such a stark existence, I wonder,” she murmured, but she wasn't mocking him. She'd spoken with concern and warmth in her tone. Two emotions he'd never expected to find in his bedroom.

He'd found lust there. He'd found callous indifference, spite, and—finally—hatred from Fallon. After she'd been murdered, he'd returned to the room in a killing rage and taken it out on the furniture. Every rug, painting, or piece of furniture she'd touched. He'd destroyed it all, clawing it to shreds in a towering fury. No matter what a heartless, cold woman she'd been, she'd been under his protection.

He'd failed Fallon.

He wouldn't fail Marie.

“I got rid of anything she'd touched. Couldn't stand to see it,” he admitted, walking away from her. Anything so she couldn't see his face.

“You loved her that much?” The sympathy in her voice was like salt on the bloody wounds of his conscience.

“No,” he confessed, the words wrenched from a black and twisted place in his soul. “I didn't love her at all. That's why I couldn't stand it. Maybe if I'd loved her, I'd have found a way to protect her, even from herself.”

Marie stepped up beside him and placed her hand on his arm. “Bastien told me of Fallon and her plot to work with the vampires against you and Kat. As a leader, you must know that you cannot save everyone. Some are destined to walk a dark path.”

Ethan stared down at her hand on his arm where it burned through his sleeve to his skin. To his nerve endings. “I don't need your sympathy, Marie. I made my choices, and I have to live with them. But you don't. Call Alaric, and let's get you out of here.”

She jerked her hand away from him as if stung. “I did not offer my sympathy but my understanding. I see, though, that you require neither.”