King's Throne (3 page)

“What about the Nyx? Would you trust the
pantera
queen to see to your safety?”

“Ria? I protect her. Not the other way around.”

His dedication to his duty was impressive, but not unexpected. Each of the big-cat shifter monarchs had a group of loyal Royal Guards to see to their safety. That was the way their society had been designed back during the European Renaissance. The Renaissance had influenced the names they called their monarchs as well. There had been a decided classical and Egyptian influence.

The queen of the
pantera noir
was called the Nyx as a nod to Greek antiquity. Black panthers saw the humor in naming their ruler after the goddess of the night. Just like the golden tigers, or
tigre d’or
, named their leader after the Egyptian sun god, Ra. The Tig’Ra was the king of all tigers and he was always a rare white tiger. The tiger queen was known as the Tig’Ren. The last royal couple to reign in the ancestral stronghold had been Gina’s parents, but they’d had to leave it all behind due to murder and treachery.

“Okay then
.” She refocused on their conversation. “What about the Tig’Ra?” Whatever it cost, she had to get him to feel safe so that he could heal. “My father may not rule the Clan anymore, but he does rule over these lands. You’re in his realm now. Nobody gets through the perimeter unless he lets them through. He has a small Pride of loyal tigers. They’re stationed all around. I bet even Dad is prowling around out there tonight. He loves padding through the snow fog. It’s his best camouflage.”

“I’ve never seen the white tiger,” Mitch mused sleepily. “I would like to see him before I die.”

She squeezed his shoulder, regaining his attention. “You will
not
die, Mitch. I won’t allow it. And you will meet my father tomorrow. He’s demanded it. You can’t let him down. Very few golden tigers are granted an audience with him these days. In fact, none in the past decade that I can recall. You need to honor that meeting.”

“I will,” he said sleepily as the poison overtook him again. “Just don’t leave me, Gina. I’ll stay as long as you do.”

“You have my word.”

He was gone again. Under the spell of the poison.

Gina was physically exhausted by all the excitement, the drive and the trek to the cabin, but she stayed by his side, talking long into the night. Even though he looked unconscious, he’d told her the poison left him unable to respond but aware. She took that to heart, talking to him, telling him about her childhood escapades here at the cabin, where her family sometimes camped when teaching her survival skills. Many romps in the wilderness had ended with a toasty fire in this cabin and burnt marshmallows on sticks.

Her parents had doted on her but
had not skimped when it came to her education—both in her tiger form and in her human shape. They taught her how to live as a tiger, how to hunt and how to survive. They taught her the same things in human form too, along with other skills like self-defense and evasion. All this, before she’d even become a teenager. It had been fun to learn those things at first—when she hadn’t realized the deadly game had very real consequences.

But after an attempt on her father’s life while they were on one of their rare trips abroad, where friends had died in the course of saving her family’s lives, she’d learned the truth. She’d learned the true nature of the world and how her family was hunted simply because of what they were. Hunted by humans. Hunted by their own kind who wanted her father’s power.

After that, she’d become more serious about learning how to defend and even attack should it become necessary, in both her forms. Her father had been her teacher. He was a skilled fighter who kept in shape, training with his friends, the loyal Royal Guards who had come with him into exile.

There hadn’t been an attempt on his life in many years. Of course, that was probably because they were so well hidden, none of their enemies could find them way up here.

After a couple of hours keeping up her one-sided dialog, Gina found it impossible to stay awake. The cabin was warm and Mitch was in the only real bed. It was big enough that she could lie down next to him and not touch. She doubted he’d wake easily from his unconscious state, but she wanted to be nearby just in case. It wasn’t entirely professional, of course. She’d never even entertained the idea of sleeping in the same bed with any of her other patients. Still, the extreme situation called for extreme measures.

She lay down beside Mitch and closed her eyes. She was asleep before she took another breath, so great was her exhaustion.

Sometime later, in the middle of the night, she woke to a great shaking. Fighting through her sleep fog, she realized quickly that Mitch was in distress. His whole body was shaking as he fought through another round of convulsions.

“Dammit,” she cursed, sitting up on the bed, reaching over Mitch’s straining body to the night stand where she’d put the medical supplies. She had to get more of her blood into him to counteract the tenacious residual poison.

She swung her leg over him and sat on his thighs, trying to hold him in place so he wouldn’t hurt himself. Gina checked to make sure his airway was clear and placed a small stack of wooden tongue depressors between his pearly white teeth to give him something to bite down on.

“Hold on, Mitch,” she spoke to him while she prepared to take the blood from her arm. “I’m going to give you a bigger dose this time,” she thought aloud as she stuck herself. “I’ve never given even half this much to anyone before, but you’re big enough to handle it
, I think. I’ve never had to dose anyone more than once before either, but with you I’m hoping the third time will be the charm.”

She filled the syringe with as much blood as it would hold while his body shook under her. It was an all
-or-nothing strategy and it had to work this time. It just had to.

She lay across him to keep his arm still while she administered the injection. His convulsions were a little less violent than the last time, when they’d still been in the city, in the apartment. That gave her hope. Perhaps his body was fighting back a bit more now, though whatever he’d been poisoned with had to be something fierce. She’d never had to give anyone this much of her blood. Never.

She shot the dose home, into his arm, using all her weight to keep him still enough for the procedure. His muscles clenched, making her job a bit more difficult, but she found a way to get the life-saving substance into him. It was either that or watch him die—and she absolutely refused to do that under any circumstances.

Within moments, the convulsions subsided, though his hands began to shift shape and his skin sprouted fur. Mottled orange, black…and white?

No way.

Gina looked more closely. No doubt about it. A small portion of his fur was white. Not the normal tawny tones of a
tigre d’or
. Now wasn’t that interesting?

“It’s probably a side effect of the large amount of my blood in you right now. Maybe it’ll go away once you recover.” She shrugged, holding his arm down as the partial shift stopped and he returned to
a fully human form once more.

He didn’t shift again, which was a good sign, and his body stopped convulsing
and dropped into an exhausted sleep. On closer examination, this sleep seemed more normal than the state he’d been in before. His breathing was easier and at a more natural rhythm and pace. His pulse was healthy and strong. His pupils responded and he even batted one hand at her forearm as she shone her small penlight into his eye. He hadn’t been able to do that before.

He seemed utterly exhausted but definitely in better shape than he had been in before this episode. She only prayed the improvement would last this time and continue until he was well again.

As the adrenaline rush left her, she felt the weariness sweep back into every bone in her body. She put the supplies back on the table, including her little penlight, and flopped back down beside Mitch. It might not be proper to sleep with him, but she was glad she had. If not, she might not have realized he’d been in crisis, for he hadn’t made a single sound through the entire ordeal. Only his uncontrolled shaking had woken her and she wouldn’t have noticed it had she slept on the couch across the room.

All in all, it was better she stay next to him. At least until he was out of the woods for certain.

Chapter Two

Mitch woke to warmth and a luscious female form pressed against him. He didn’t immediately recall much about where he was or who he was with, but he knew he wanted the woman pressed against his side. She smelled of tall grass and moonflowers. She smelled…right. Perfect, in fact.

He was only half awake, but his body knew what it wanted. Her. Always. Forever. In every way.

Mitch reached out, absently noting the soreness of his muscles. Straining his muscles was nothing new to a man who spent a lot of time pushing himself to his physical limits in an effort to be the best he could be. He dismissed the tight sensations across his shoulders in favor of the soft fabric and even softer skin of the woman under his fingertips.

He rolled slightly, aligning his body with hers. She was a perfect fit. But she wore too many clothes.

He buried his nose in the curve of her neck as he dragged at the soft jersey knit of her top, pulling it upward to bare her midriff. He touched her bare skin and paused, learning the feel of her as his nose drew in the scent of her flesh. He licked her, tasting the salt of her skin as his body absorbed the shiver that went through her.

He liked the way she responded to him. Already, he could tell this was going to be a fuck to remember.

“Mitch?” Her groggy voice reached his ear and he liked the way it slid over his senses. She had a voice edged with sin that made him draw her closer.

But she
slipped one small hand between them and it felt like she was pushing against his chest. Pushing him away.

The beast inside him growled. It didn’t like that. Neither did the man.

But her strength was nearly a match for his. That was new. Few women—even shifter women—could make an impression on him with their physical strength. She wasn’t large. She fit into the planes of his body with feminine petiteness, but there was a core of steel in her that made him pause.

Oh, he could have overpowered her easily enough. He was an Alpha in his prime, after all, but that wouldn’t be right. He was a Royal Guard and he lived by a code of chivalry handed down over the centuries through the ranks of Royal Guards. He would not stain his honor by forcing a woman. Not ever.

Slowly, the fog began to lift as his brain started to function.

“Where am I?” His voice was rougher than he expected. And his throat was raw with strain. What had he been doing to make his whole body hurt this much both inside and out?

The pain of his condition began to penetrate the sensual fog that had held him in thrall. As he drew back, he began to feel the aches in every muscle and the pain of healing wounds. He’d been in a fight. No doubt about it. He remembered very well what the day after a bust-up felt like.

Memories began to return.
He’d been ambushed by a werewolf in half-shifted form outside Harris’s dojo. They’d fought, but the werewolf had had friends. Someone had come from behind and jabbed Mitch with a needle. He’d fought for a few minutes more, but then the lights had gone out. He’d only surfaced for short periods since then. It was all really foggy after the needle jabbed him.

“You’re in my family’s cabin. You’re safe.” Her voice comforted him and he began to recognize it.

“Gina?”

“Yes, Mitch. I’m here.” She pressed her palm more gently against his chest, but she was still trying to put more space between them. He took the hint and released her a little more but didn’t let her go completely. He wanted her inside the circle of his arms.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a herd of elephants.”

The quality of her touch changed from pushing away to assessing. Her hands went to his shoulders, rubbing the tight knots of his aching muscles.

“What do you remember?”

“Guarding with Cade. Then the ambush. Getting slashed and stuck with a needle. Then…not much. Until you. And Cade and another woman in an unfamiliar apartment. Then a car ride. Then…you again, princess. How am I doing?”

“You’ve got most of
what you were awake for at least. That’s a good thing.”

“So what did I miss?” He liked the feel of her hands on his body. She had a gentle, healing touch.

“Let’s see. Two rounds of convulsions and three jabs with a needle packed with universal shifter blood.”

“Your blood,” he confirmed. “I remember that part.”
He raised one hand to take hers and squeezed gently. “Thank you for that, milady. If I didn’t say it before, let me say it now.”

“You’re welcome.” Her gaze held his for a long moment and he was about to say to hell with protocol and tradition. He was angling in for a kiss when there was a pounding on the door of the cabin.

Mitch instantly released her, climbing to his feet, hoping to defend her from any possible threat no matter how bad a shape he was in. His legs trembled under his own weight but he refused to acknowledge the weakness.

Gina came out from behind him and he growled low in his throat in warning. She only sent him a somewhat worried smile.

“It’s my dad. I’d know his idea of a gentle knock anywhere.”

Mitch tried to move but couldn’t seem to walk. He growled again in frustration and watched helplessly as she went toward the door.

“Be certain it’s him before you open up.” It was the only thing he could do to keep her safe, and it wasn’t much. He was in bad physical shape and he plopped down on the side of the bed as his wobbly legs gave way. One hand propped him up as he leaned heavily on his uninjured side, glaring at the door and the woman heading toward it.

“Dad, is that you?”

“Who else?” came the roar of a full-grown tiger from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

A tiger in human form, of course. The Tig’Ra. That much Mitch remembered. Gina’s dad was the rarest of the rare, the magic-touched, born-to-rule,
tigre
of all
tigres
. The white tiger. The Sun King. The one blessed by the Goddess and meant to govern all of his kind.

Mitch tried hard to stand up straight but he couldn’t even manage that as Gina opened the door and launched herself into the arms of the older man at the threshold. He hugged his daughter, but his sharp blue eyes sought and measured Mitch even as he greeted his daughter.

“How’s my girl?” The king lifted Gina off her feet for a quick moment as he stepped into the cabin. He let her go and shut the door behind him, securing it before he turned his full attention to Mitch.

Mitch felt every inch of the once-over he received. It was hard not to feel intimidated, even though Mitch was secure in his own skin. Or at least he had been—before meeting the Goddess-touched tiger king.

“And you must be Mitch.”

He tried to drop to one knee, but it was more like a fall rather than the graceful gesture he’d intended. Gina and her father each reached out and took one of his arms, steadying him, much to his chagrin.

“Whoa there, son. No need for that,” Gina’s father’s voice came to Mitch as if from a distance and he knew he was in danger of passing out again. “Give us some room, Gina,” the older man ordered gently.

And then the room spun as the
king himself reached out again, shooed his daughter away and lifted Mitch up, one strong hand under each arm. He placed Mitch in a sitting position on the edge of the bed. The older man offered support while the room steadied and then stilled. Thank goodness, the spinning had stopped, but Mitch didn’t make any sudden moves, just in case the room decided to start dancing around again.

“My apologies, sire,” he mumbled, embarrassed by his weakness and humbled before the greatest and most blessed of all tiger shifters. “I’m not as strong as I should be.”

“No, you’re not. And I’m here to find out why.” The king pulled up one of the sturdy wooden chairs and sat at Mitch’s side. Gina perched on his other side and together they told the story of how Mitch had come to be under her care.

“My partner and I have been guarding the
pantera noir
Nyx for several years,” Mitch answered, when the king asked how Mitch had come to be in the city. “She had to move and we had what we thought was a solid contact in a human named Harris who owns the Silent Tiger dojo. Unfortunately, Harris was betrayed and the dojo was attacked while the Nyx was inside. Another team of Royal Guards got her out. I’m ashamed to admit I walked into an ambush.”

“They were waiting for you with a needle?” Gina asked, her voice indicating her horror at the thought.

“Near as I can figure. All I remember is fighting a wolf in battle form. He scratched the hell out of me.” Mitch raised the hem of his T-shirt to expose a few of the red lines that had mostly healed. Gina’s magical blood and his own shifter constitution had done the work of healing his physical wounds, but whatever poison was still in his system, making him weak as a kitten, was something altogether different. “While I was distracted by the wolf, someone jabbed me with a needle from behind.”

The king bent closer to inspect the wounds and Mitch heard the angry growl in the back of his throat. Thankfully
, his displeasure wasn’t aimed at Mitch, but rather at the coward who would betray his own kind so that another could poison him.

“Whoever did this wants us warring among ourselves,” Gina’s father said in a low, angry voice. “If you had died of the poison, not many of us would look beyond the claw marks for a reason for your departure from this realm. We would have blamed another shifter.”

“I believe so, sire,” Mitch agreed, thankful that he was feeling well enough to converse with the Goddess-blessed leader of his people, even if this king didn’t want the job anymore. “I also believe that whatever was in the syringe was meant to kill me. Only your daughter’s blood saved me and allows me to continue.” Mitch turned to Gina, daring to reach out for her hand. “I want you to know, while I am still clear-headed enough to tell you…I won’t blame you if I don’t survive this. It won’t be your fault. You’ve done more than anyone could have done for me. For that I thank you. Allowing me the time to help our people—to let them know it wasn’t a shifter that killed me—is a true gift. Whatever happens, I want you to know that. Thank you, princess.”

Mitch
cursed inwardly. The woman had tears in her eyes. If not for her father sitting next to him—glowering at him now—Mitch would have taken her into his arms and kissed those tears away. As it was, all he could do was squeeze her hand and hold her watery gaze, hoping she could read the truth of his words in his eyes.

“I promise to do my best for you,” Gina whispered.

Anything more she would have said was cut off by her father. “Can you save him, kitten?”

She lifted her gaze to her father and nodded, her lips pressed tightly together as if to hold in her emotions. “I think so,” she finally answered. “He stays lucid for longer each time and the convulsions weren’t as severe last night as they were the first time. Each subsequent treatment seems to negate a bit more of whatever it was they injected him with. Giving him the nectar was a mistake. It made things worse and it’s taken a lot of my blood to bring him back from it.” She bit her lip before continuing in a more timid manner. “There’s just one thing that worries me. When he convulses, parts of him shift. His hands and feet. And the last time…there was white fur amid the gold.”

Mitch was shocked. He’d always been a golden tiger.

“Is it some kind of side effect from the blood you’ve given me?” he asked, truly puzzled and feeling more than a little spooked.

White fur was the province of the
king and his family alone. Mitch was
tigre d’or
—a golden tiger—as were all other tiger shifters in the world. Only a rare few were
tigre blanche
—the sacred white tigers.

“Are you certain, kitten? You saw white fur?” Gina’s father asked in grave tones.

Gina nodded. “I’ve dosed people with my blood before—including other goldens—but I’ve never seen this kind of response. Of course, I’ve never given anyone as much as I’ve given Mitch. I’ve shot him up three times, each time with a higher dose.”

“Well, it could be a side effect of your treatment, but then again…” Gina’s father stood abruptly. “I have to think about this. I also have to check the perimeter and talk with the Guard. No one will trespass to interfere with your recovery, Mitch.” The exiled king nodded at him and Mitch felt the impact of that decisive gesture. “Heal him as best you can, kitten,” the elder said to his daughter. “He might be more important than you know.”

And with those disturbing words and a final hug for his daughter, the powerful man left the cabin in a whirl of snow as he opened the heavy door. Apparently, sometime during their talk, a storm had rolled in, blanketing what Mitch could see of the sky in a dark, uniform gray.

“Looks like we’ll be snowed in here for a bit,” Gina said, barring the door behind her father. “How are you feeling?” She leaned back against the wooden door, her gaze roving over him with a critical eye.

It was the look of a doctor evaluating her patient, but there was an added component…a component of attraction of female to male—and vice versa. Mitch had been attracted to the beautiful doctor from almost the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. Certainly from the first moment he’d laid
coherent
eyes on her. Gina was a beauty with Goddess-given regal lines and a reticence that seemed at odds with her competent manner.