The Lion's Pride (BBW Paranormal Lion Shifter Romance) (The True Date Agency) (4 page)

I
crushed
the piece of paper into a mangled wad, flinging it across the room, where it bounced harmlessly off a wall.
Shame.
I was in the mood to break something, anything.

It had been weeks—
weeks dammit!—
of looking and we hadn’t gotten any further.

“We’ll find her, Zane. We won’t stop looking,” murmured Gretchen from where from where she sat across from me in a chair, pouring over the pile of paperwork we had managed to dig up.

We had eventually found out Lara’s last name—she had paid for her drink by card, so after combing through the computer records we had eventually managed to find her receipt. I snorted. It hadn’t done us much good. Lara
Smith
. Fucking perfect. The last few weeks had been spent combing through all the
Lara Smith’s
in the city, in the suburbs, even in the state, trying to find
my
Lara. Turned out there were a lot of L. Smiths in the area.

“Hey, boss…Zane? I think I might have something here,” Andy called from where he sat hunched over the computer, where he had been for the last week or so.

I sprang from the chair, striding across the office. “What have you got?” I snapped out.

Andy spun the screen around. “Is this her? I think it is, but she looks a bit different, and her face is partially hidden by the guy.” He poked the photo in question.

I leaned over his shoulder and peered at the small grainy photo. “It’s her!” Excitement grabbed me. I finally found her. “Where is she?”

He flicked a finger at the screen. “The photo is on
this
guy’s Facebook profile. He’s a bit of an idiot, actually. His privacy settings are wide-open so I was able to flick through and look at all of his photos. The only reason I glanced at his profile is because I was looking through all of the ones with the last name
Smith
who live in and around the city.”

“Who is he?” I growled, glaring at the man in the picture.

“I honestly don’t know,” replied Andy. “Hopefully her brother. At least for his sake.” He muttered the last bit under his breath while flicking through some screens. “Here, the idiot has his phone number listed right on his profile. If I just—” he clicked a few more times and a box popped up. “There you go, Archibald Smith—
shit
, his mom must’ve hated him—and there’s the address.”

This man would know where Lara is.
Grabbing my keys off the desk, I strode towards the door.

“Zane—”

I paused, every cell in my body itching to get out there, to finally do something. “What is it, Gretchen?” I growled in a low voice, barely managing to hold my lion in check.

“Just…don’t do anything silly, okay?” Concern colored her voice, her eyes anxious as she stared at me.

I yanked open the door, my mind already having left, already working on what to say to Lara when I saw her again. “You know I can’t promise that, Gretchen.”

I slammed the door shut behind me.

I rang the bell to the ostentatious house one more time, suppressing the urge to beat down the door. I knew somebody was home; I could hear the loud music, the clashing and banging accompanying high-pitched giggles.
Was that Lara?
Adrenaline surged, frustration roaring through me. I didn’t have time for this.

I was just raising my fist to give the door a good pounding, when it flew open. It was the guy from the photo, dressed in a pair of baggy shorts, scratching a small pot-belly while rubbing at bloodshot eyes. “What the hell, man? Do you know what time it is?” he whined.

I didn’t—like I gave a fuck. But I was pretty sure it was the middle of the day. I glanced at the sky, noticing for the first time that the sun had dipped behind clouds. Maybe. Time had eluded me the last couple of weeks. “Lara,” I snarled. “Where is she?”

The man gaped at me, then suddenly seemed to wake up, his eyes widening as he took a good look at me for the first time. “Lara? What do
you
want with Lara?”

I braced a hand on the door, letting him get a good look at me. I was almost a full foot taller and packing a hell of a lot more muscle. I let my lion bleed into my eyes. “Answer the question—where is she?”

“What the fuck has it got to do with you,
shifter
?” His eyes narrowed, then his lips twisted in a smirk. “Or, should I say, what do you want with my
wife
?”

Wife
? The word knocked me sideways, a virtual sucker-punch to the kidneys. She was
married
?

“Yeah…my wife.” The little jerk straightened up, scowling at me. “What the fuck do you want with my wife?”

My head was still reeling.
She hadn’t said— Why had she—?

“She didn’t tell you? She can’t help herself sometimes. She acts like a little whore, hooking up with guys, giving them a little taste… I know she does it. Hell, I think it’s funny! Is that what she did with you?” He narrowed his eyes at me, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

No!
She wouldn’t— She had been sweet and—

But she had left without a word, disappearing off into the night without looking back. I tried to picture the Lara I knew acting like he’d described, but I couldn’t. I might not have known her for long, but something inside of me screamed at me, insisting that she wasn’t like that.

But
why
would he say it?

If
I
found a strange man on my doorstep looking for my mate, he’d be flat out on the floor by now.

His eyes darted from side to side, not meeting mine. Certainty seared through me. He was lying. I’d been right; Lara wasn’t like that.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What could I say? This man was her husband. She had chosen to spend her life with him, even though he was clearly a piece of shit.

“Is she here?” I eventually croaked out. I don’t know why I asked. It had to be a streak of narcissism I wasn’t aware of possessing. She was my mate, yet she already belonged to another and I wanted to see her.
To torture myself.

“No. She’s out right now. Would you like me to give her a message?”

“So, who’s that in the house with you?” I could still hear giggles coming from behind him, just out of view.

“None of your damn business,” he snapped out, then as though reconsidering, he added, “We have an open marriage, just in case you were thinking of causing trouble between me and my wife. Sorry, fucking her is a one-time only kinda thing.” He smirked, looking me up and down. “I don’t know why you’d bother coming back for more, though. Fucking Lara is like fucking a dead fish. Then again, you’re a shifter; you probably like it when they’re docile and placid. Me, I prefer—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence, my fist connecting with his jaw, sending him flying back into the house.

I shouldn’t have done that…
I really shouldn’t have, but satisfaction was quickly burning away any remorse I was feeling.

Satisfied he wasn’t coming back for more, I strolled back to my car and got in. Slipping the key into the ignition, I went to turn it, but my hand wouldn’t move, eventually dropping back down to my knee.

She was my true mate, which meant we belonged together. If I pursued her, it would end her marriage to that idiot. Which would be fucking brilliant from my point of view, but what would she think? Maybe she’d be happy about it? I had to believe that what had happened between us was special, and that her husband was full of a special brand of lying bullshit.

My lion reared up inside me, my skin itching with the need to shift and scare the crap out of him. Swallowing back the urge, I dug deep, trying to figure out what to do.

If I broke up her marriage, she’d understand eventually, I was certain of that. The mate bond, the one that would connect us soul to soul—it would help her understand and make her see that we belonged together. But to get to that point, to complete the mating—that would mean taking away her choice in the matter. Because even with the attraction burning between us, I doubted she’d be throwing herself at me…
and
there was a fair chance she would hate me if I pushed her into it.

My head fell forward to rest on the steering wheel as any hope for the future came crashing down around me. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t risk it. All that was left was waiting. And hoping. And praying.

Pulling myself together, I fired up the car and peeled out of the long, circular driveway. It didn’t matter how I felt. I could deal with it so long as Lara was happy.

Alone, rejected, feeling sorry for myself.
Nothing new.
Hell, it was like coming home after a vacation—you resented it, but at least it was familiar. It wasn’t a new pain.

T
he bell rang
, signaling the end of the school day. Grabbing their books and bags, the children charged out of the classroom, their high-pitched squeals of excitement ringing in my ears. Chuckling to myself, I tidied up my desk, quickly putting things to right, ready for a new day tomorrow.

I honestly loved it here, and the school had quickly become my new home. It was more than just a school, it was a home for all the children who didn’t have one, and now it was mine. I had fit in perfectly, especially since I was carrying a baby that was a shifter too.

Sarah had been wonderful, giving me all the time off I needed to attend doctor appointments and making allowances for me during morning sickness. Lately, when I wanted to eat everything in sight, she had made sure the cafeteria prepared my favorite meals, all the while dispensing advice about what I should expect when the baby arrived. We had become friends. Though it hadn’t deterred her from digging every now and again, asking if I had told the father.

Gathering up an armful of papers, I kicked the classroom door shut and set off down the corridor. I’d told her the truth—I had tried.
And I had!
I’d gone to the club to see Zane, ready to tell him everything, and to give him a chance to be a part of our baby’s life.

Memories of that day flashed before my eyes. I had taken a cab to the club, my nerves threatening to make me physically sick and butterflies flying in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but it hadn’t been the greeting I had received.

Not wanting to just march into his office, I had asked at the front desk if he was available. The same girl had been working, the one who had been there
that
night. She had recognized me. I could see it in her eyes, along with a fleeting emotion I couldn’t pinpoint, then it was gone and I was left thinking I had imagined it.

“Hey, Ms. Wade,” a young voice said, jolting me out of my memories.

“Toby, what can I do for you?” I smiled at the boy. He was around six or seven years old. Nobody knew for sure. Like all of the other students, he was either an orphan or, even worse in my book, not wanted, and not many of the kids knew their birth dates. It made my heart hurt to think about it. How could any mother not want their child? I rubbed a hand over my rounded belly. My baby would never question whether it was loved—I would make sure of that. He would
always
feel wanted, even if it was only by his mother.

“Can I—?” He shuffled his feet back and forth, looking nervous.

“Can you what, Toby?” I would have crouched down beside him, but I couldn’t quite manage it anymore, and I was pretty sure if I tried, I wouldn’t be getting back up any time soon.

“Feel the baby,” he finally blurted out, staring at the ground.

“Of course you can!”

His little hand reached out and gently smoothed over my stomach, a laugh escaping as the baby kicked at his hand. “He smells like me,” he murmured.

Of course
—he was a lion shifter, too. He had the gold tips to his hair, though his eyes were more of an aquamarine. My heart twisted a little at the reminder of Zane.

Toby mumbled his thanks and scurried off down the corridor, most likely seeking the delicious smell of food that wafted from the cafeteria. I continued on my journey, following a little more slowly in Toby’s wake, my mind still picking at that night from months ago.

When I had asked to see Zane, the girl at the front desk had informed me that he’d left strict instructions for me not to be allowed in. That he didn’t want anything to do with me— didn’t want to see me, didn’t want to talk to me. I was not welcome. I didn’t miss the flash of satisfaction in the girl’s eyes as she told me this, or the flash of dismay when she caught my scent. I had forced myself to write down my new number, knowing if I didn’t, my conscience would force me to return. Turned out I didn’t need to see him to let him know I was pregnant; my scent was like a calling card, advertising my status to the shifter world at large. His staff would tell him, and if he changed his mind, he’d know where to find me.

That had been months ago.

It had taken me about two weeks to face it—he had moved on.

My appetite suddenly deserting me, I veered off course, heading outside. Maybe some fresh air would do me some good and pull me out of this funk. After all, I had a lot to be thankful for, and a lot look forward to. Light blinded me for a split second, the afternoon sun still bright in the sky. Shading my eyes, I stepped out onto the path that led to the courtyard, winding around the groomed flowerbeds and shrubs in a meandering path. Shrieks and giggles of children playing drifted on the warm summer breeze, catching my attention.
The children would cheer me up.
I followed the sound, taking the path around the corner.

I rocked to a halt, unable to believe what my eyes were telling me. A large gaggle of kids crowded around a tall, well-built man, each squealing with excitement as he singled them out one by one, giving them hugs, ruffling hair and bumping fists with the older ones.

Zane!
Any hope that I had embellished my memories of him, making him even more handsome, even more attractive, fizzled into nothing as I stared at him. Broad through the shoulders and trim through the waist, he was made up of long, lean muscles. Raw, sexy, and hot. My pulse thundered in my ears, my palms sweating as my body screamed at me to move closer, to wrap myself around him.

He crouched down next to one of the younger children, lifting them up onto his shoulders in a smooth swoop. He looked happy. Relaxed, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Why was he here? What was he doing?
A thousand questions piled in on me, screaming for an answer.
Why was he happy, when I hurt?
The ground lurched beneath me, my vision blurring, everything going numb. I’d been fooling myself thinking that he didn’t mean anything, telling myself that it was okay. That it was okay if he didn’t want me—that I could raise his baby on my own. That I was better off without a man in my life. That I didn’t need another
Archie
telling me what I could and couldn’t do, telling me I was an idiot, that I was worthless. That I couldn’t even do the one thing I had been made for.

Sucking in a deep breath, I grabbed at the wall. My hand stroked over my belly.
It was real,
I reassured myself
.
I had proved him wrong, and the look on his face when I had told him had been priceless.

The baby kicked inside of me, as though sensing his father was near. It was as if my soul screamed for Zane, calling out across the courtyard, telling me to go to him. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, couldn’t stop myself from drinking in every detail. Thank God he hadn’t seen me, I still had chance to—

Black crept in, blocking out the sun, the ground rushing toward me.