Bending Steele

Bending Steele

Summary:

Four years ago, Hexe was an ordinary man
taking his aging parents on the vacation of a lifetime: a trip to
the Himalayan Mountains. But when their car took a deadly swerve
off a mountain road, Hexe was the only survivor. Brutally attacked
by a shape-shifting snow leopard, Hexe became one of many living in
the mountains. Now, as King of the Himalayan tribe, Hexe has his
eyes set on a woman he thinks could finally make his life whole
again. The mysterious and dangerous Steele–every bit as cold and
deadly as her name suggests.

At eight, Steele watched a killer murder her
mother while her father ran for his safety. She learned then that
people couldn’t be trusted and has lived on the fringe of her
people’s society since, barely participating in the tribe at all.
Until Hexe, their new King, lays a claim on her.

Determined to fight for her freedom, Steele
has no intention of letting her King walk away from the fight–and
Hexe has every intention of making her his mate. But when a deadly
poacher returns to the mountains, Steele learns what it is to have
a partner at her back, and together it’s up to them to save their
tribe. But to do so, Steele might just have to bend a little and
let one very determined man into her heart…

Smashwords Edition

2nd Edition

Copyright 2012 Sadie Hart

Excerpt of Hounded Copyright 2012 Sadie
Hart

Excerpt of Resisting Velocity Copyright 2012
Xoe Xanders and Trinity Evans

Cover Art Designed by Sadie Hart

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you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction. The
names, places, characters, and incidents are products of the
writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to
be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely
coincidental.

All Rights Reserved

Bending Steele

Table of Contents

Chapter
One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About the Author

Available Titles by Sadie Hart

Excerpt: Hounded by Sadie Hart

Excerpt: Resisting Velocity by Xoe Xanders and Trinity
Evans

Chapter
One

Steele slipped down from the icy slope, the
wicked glint of a blade wrapped in one hand. The mountains were
thick with cats, snow leopards slinking down from the mottled white
cliffs. Several were already in human form as they gathered in the
valley below, herded together like cattle. Steele held back,
watching, waiting.

She’d been Marked.

Claimed.

And that galled her. Curious, she crouched on
an overhanging ledge, her small dagger pressed against her calf,
one outstretched hand laid bare against the snowy edge. She wanted
to see the man who’d staked his claim on her this year. He wouldn’t
be the first, but damn it, maybe if she made a big enough example
out of this one, he’d be the last.

She had no interest in finding a mate. She’d
seen where that led. More dangerous than any of the ice slick
mountains in the Himalayas. Hearts were too easily broken and
Steele preferred hers frozen. Protected. Love made people
vulnerable, it left them open for hurt and betrayal. She’d seen it
once, she wasn’t about to let it happen to her.

A cold blast of wind ruffled the thick hood
of her parka as Steele leaned over the edge. She recognized most of
the tribe, but there were few new faces in the people mingling
below. Not many stumbled far enough into the mountains as it was,
even fewer were attacked. The clan’s numbers varied very little
from year to year, the shifter population growing slowly over
generations due to offspring. Some, below, had human spouses while
others stood paired off with others of their kind, mated. Most with
kids had opted to stay home. Her gaze scanned through the crowd,
discarding the ones she knew were taken. Her attention shifting to
the handfuls of males still looking for mates.

None of them looked ballsy enough to try
her.

She shifted slightly, one booted foot
knocking a clump of snow over the edge. It was Wintersong, the one
day a year where most of the tribe gathered. It was the beginning
of their mating season. Their fighting season. King-making season
too, for anyone who dared to challenge their current monarch.

As if called by her thoughts, she saw Hexe
then. The King stood along the edge of the valley, his thick boots
strapped around his calves, his khakis loose around slender hips.
The thick white parka he wore nearly blended into the white mound
of snow behind him. But it was always his face that caught her
attention.

Sharp edged, with dark black hair that hung
loose around the clean cut of his jaw, the firm line of his lips.
It was cut in ragged, choppy waves that looked feral, as if he
could never be bothered to tame it. As if he never left the
mountains.

Then again, she was one to talk. She wondered
what she even looked like. The last time she’d seen a village, let
alone a mirror, had been years ago. Preferring the solitude, where
the only sounds were the wind howling through the mountaintops and
the occasional rumble of an angry avalanche. Hexe took a step into
the clearing and the others skirted the wake of their King. Any cat
here could challenge him—today only—but Steele didn’t see it
happening.

Hexe fought with a ruthless edge she’d only
seen rivaled by herself. He was dark, deadly, and damn near sinful
with a blade. He also looked every bit the part of a warrior King,
with his sleek toned muscle and easy cat grace. He moved
effortlessly, purposefully. No wasted energy.

But as ruthless as he could be, Steele had
seen the softer side of their King. The side that had tried to
welcome her further into the tribe. He’d wanted to make her feel at
home. Looking at him now, there were no remnants of that wayward
smile he’d given her last, before he’d shaken his head and walked
away. As if he’d finally,
finally
understood she wanted to
be left alone.

Steele started to turn back to her search
when Hexe’s head lifted a notch, his nostrils widening just
slightly. Scenting.

Fucking bastard
. Steele’s grip
tightened on her knife.

It was him.

Hexe had marked her. But if he thought that
just because he was King she’d come sauntering down, he was wrong.
And King or not, she’d still fight him. He’d be lucky if she didn’t
slit his throat at the end of this and leave the throne up for the
taking.

The Mark burned bright against her chest and
Hexe tilted his head, dark eyes skimming the peaks until his gaze
landed on her. He was as bound to her now as she was to him, at
least for the two weeks she’d be Marked. Icy and wild, his gaze
locked with hers. Steele stiffened under the heat that cool stare
brought to her belly, and lower. Damn him. Her fingers curled into
the snow along the ledge. He was powerful, handsome. The kind of
male any female here would want, or should want. If they were
anyone but Steele. A smirk tipped his lips. Steele bared her teeth
and hissed into the wind.

She twisted back along the mountainside and
slipped into the shadows. She felt the burn of the Mark against her
breast again, as clearly as if Hexe was sinking his teeth into her
skin, dragging her down. Oh, she was coming. But she’d do it on her
own terms.

Out of sight.

***

Hexe watched her hiss at him from the ledge
and then disappear into the shadows framed by the mountain, the
swirls of snow and gunmetal gray rock sheltering her from view. She
wasn’t happy, but then again, he hadn’t expected Steele to be
thrilled with his Mark. As much as she was a member of the tribe,
she was a distant one.

She came to every gathering, but she always
lingered on the outskirts, watching but never participating. The
few times someone had tried to lure her in or befriend her, they’d
been met with an icy rebuttal. Those who had pushed had been
threatened with a knife. She was an enigma. Both seeming to want
the company of others, and at the same time, denying it. But she’d
always been clear about one thing. She didn’t want a mate and rumor
had it, she’d gutted the last male who’d tried to claim her.

He didn’t doubt that she’d try to do the same
to him and he knew damn well that his rank wouldn’t save him. Hexe
glanced around the gathering as more and more of their kind slipped
down from the peaks and met inside the valley. A few cats fought
along the edges, angry snarls already beginning to rise. One male
raked claws into the hide of another. Blood decorated the snow in
splatters.

But no one stepped out of the crowd to
challenge him.

A few females edged closer, single. A pretty
redhead grinned over at him. He’d danced with her last year amongst
the cliffs, playing, testing the waters. He’d left her hoping for a
Mark and felt a little guilty now. He wasn’t even sure of her
name.

It made him a dick and he knew it.

But he wasn’t the only unmated male here and
unlike those skirting around, laughing and flirting, Hexe knew
exactly who he wanted. He’d known it for awhile now. He heard the
slightest crunch of snow behind him and grinned. Inclining his head
slightly, he tipped his chin so he could gaze over his shoulder.
Steele stood against the rock, her tribal-etched blade in one hand,
her other stuffed in the pocket of her parka.

Hexe flicked his attention briefly to the
mountains, the last of his cats now standing on the open ground
before him. He gave a low rumbling sound in his throat, like an
avalanche building along the range behind him, and silence washed
over the tribe—both human and cat alike. He kept one ear trained on
the woman behind him, expecting her knife in his back.

Steele didn’t move. Not yet, at least.

“Welcome,” Hexe said, a faint smile touching
his lips. He doubted it looked friendly.

One palm extended skyward, he focused on the
mountain magick that filled the land around him. Drawing in a deep
breath, he pulled it inside him, then on an exhale, he blew it out
over his skin. The magick appeared white in the cold air, curling
like smoke, and then when it touched his hand it turned blue,
floating skyward. The wind took the curl of color and blew it out
over his cats.

Wintersong had begun.

Hexe took a powerful step towards his tribe,
not tense, but prepared. If anyone fought him here and now, he
would be ready. “The throne stands for the taking. Anyone?”

One eyebrow lifted in question, but not a
soul in the group stepped forward to challenge him. He turned to
Steele, saw the soft smirk on her face, but she made no move for
him. Hexe eyed his tribe before him, a few shifters standing ready
to resume their earlier battles. Most were here simply to be with
the tribe or to find mates, their squabbles nothing more than
proving their worth as males.

With a jerk of his head, Hexe dismissed them
and watched the cats turn away, the official introduction done. The
Marked females stood out easily, a swirl of blue magick lingering
against their parkas. It was a half a beat before someone noticed
Steele behind him. The male stumbled, eyes a little wide, and Hexe
watched as the man flicked his gaze across the group, as if he was
trying to see who had the balls to try her.

Hexe turned away from them all, everyone save
Steele. They could think what they wanted to think—he had his
reasons. Snow crunched under his boots as he strode towards her,
her slim body still leaned against the mountainside, one booted
foot pressed back against the rock. Lazy, almost. She eyed the
knife in her hand before flicking her steel gray gaze up to his.
Cool, confident.

He’d have expected nothing less.

But she always bluffed first. Postured first.
She gave everyone an out, a chance to retreat. Steele waited now,
her eyes on his, body stiff, but he recognized it for what it was.
A chance to remove his Mark and pretend this had never happened.
Even with everyone watching, she’d let him just walk away.