Prince of Shadows (13 page)

Cale struck until the screams stopped. Only then did he bury his face in the blood-soaked fur at the throat to take the other’s life with a violent jerk of his head. When he rocked back on his heels, seething as he wiped the gore from his mouth, the others finally acted, out of self-preservation as much as anger.

Mule, who was gigantic in his natural state, gripped Cale’s arms, dragging him up and flinging him to the mat with a breath-sapping impact. In that paralyzing second, Slick was on him. Cale managed to wedge a forearm between his own throat and those slashing teeth, holding Slick at bay until his strength returned. Then Cale hammered his way through fur and flesh and bone to seize the heart and tear it from the body even as glassy eyes widened in surprise. He shoved the corpse off him and rolled to his feet, roaring as he sank his teeth into the gruesome trophy, devouring it as the crowd erupted into bloodthirsty cheers. Licking away the last of his victory from his hand, Cale turned—right into Mule’s anvil-sized fist.

He went down, bells ringing, only vaguely aware of his foot being seized, of the whoosh of air as he was sent airborne into the steel bars of the cage. He dropped to hands and knees, catching movement in his usually dark peripheral soon enough to grab the leg swinging for his ribs. With a hard twist, he took Mule to the canvas with a vibrating thud and was straddling him, a hand about his thick neck, squeezing.

“Please, my prince,” wheezed the giant. “I never touched her. Ask her! I never put a hand on her. Mercy! I beg you!”

Cale leaned close, fury shaking through him. “You ran, you coward, and let my brother die!”

Eyes nearly popping, Mule gasped, “
You
killed him!”

Cale took a breath. Yes, he had. And there was no way to shift that guilt to another.

The hunger for vengeance drained from him. He sat back, slowly releasing his hold. Panting, he glared down at the fallen male and said, “Run now, if you want to save your miserable life. Run and don’t let me ever see you again.”

Cale rocked to his feet and started for the door of the cage. Seeing his intention, the crowd both cheered and jeered uproariously. Cale didn’t hear them. He was focused, listening for something else. For the faint prickle of warning. For the whisper of treachery rushing up behind him.

He spun, meeting Mule before he could complete a successful attack. He swung fiercely, claws glinting like sharpened blades, sending Mule’s head flying to bounce off the bars as his body collapsed at Cale’s feet.

“Fool,” he growled, then continued toward the open door, his form changing as he reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. He started up the aisle, ignoring the shouts and applause from his clan. There was only one thing that meant anything to him now. Returning home to Kendra as quickly as possible, so she’d know she had nothing more to fear.

He pushed his way up through the packed stairwell, smiling and nodding because it was expected, though he was impatient to be gone. The hallway was even harder to navigate. Everyone wanted to congratulate him, to touch him, to press his hand.

“Cale!”

He stopped, stretching on tiptoe to scan the crowd, his expression filling with surprise as his gaze found hers.

Kendra started toward him, struggling through the throng, and then she was running. She took a reckless leap that had him stumbling a step back as he caught her. Her arms and legs tangled about him. Even as her tear-dampened face pressed tight against his, even as she sobbed his name over and over, all he could say was “You’re still here.”

He cloistered her head with his hands, pulling her back so he could look into her eyes, confused when she gushed, “Are you all right? I was so afraid when you went down—”

“You saw me? You were watching?” His pulse was banging like crazy, making him light-headed.

She laughed as if shocked herself. “I couldn’t leave.” Her tone lowered, becoming a liquid caress. “You were amazing.”

All he could see was the inviting heat burning in her dark stare, sucking him in by the soul. He was kissing her, hard and deep and endlessly. Time to find that room.

Carrying her while they shared panting breaths and hurried tongue thrusts, he turned them in to the ladies’ restroom. The female at the mirror snatched up her purse, glowering at them on her way out the door as Cale settled Kendra on the edge of the sink. For a long minute, they continued to kiss, unable to find a satisfactory point to stop. Her excitement heightened the potency of her scent, and with each breath he pulled, it swirled about his senses. The adrenaline already sluicing through his system pumped up his primal drive toward an inescapable conclusion. To take her, claim her, make her his.

No other female enflamed his possessive instincts the way she did. Everything about her was unbearable provocation. The soft, needy sounds she made as he plumbed the sweetness of her mouth, her quick little gasps as he moved against her in a rhythmic prelude, her hands on his body, rubbing up and down his back, stirring his desire into a great, growling insistence.

To take, to claim, to have. His mate. His queen. She’d waited for him. She wanted him. Nothing would get in his way.

Gripping her hips, Cale tugged her into the hard grind of his crotch. Her heat . . . an intoxicating attractant. He lowered his face, scrubbing it over the soft swell of her breasts, feeling her heart begin to sprint in response. His hands filled with that tender bounty. His mouth scorched against the silky arch of her throat, hungry for the taste of her that would make them one. Finally one.

Everything he’d wanted, dreamed of, yearned for was seconds from realization. She pressed against him, his name a soft plea upon her lips. He clutched her tighter, closer, shaking with the violence of his need to have her. Now.

He spun her around with unintended roughness, pressing her down over the sink with one hand cuffing the back of her neck while the other tore down her pants. The sight of her pale, perfect backside sent shudders of anticipation through him. He pushed her knees apart with the intrusion of his own. His. His to take and hold forever. In a fever of urgency, he shoved up her shirt to expose more sleek, creamy flesh. Had to taste her, feel that softness, while he could still control the primitive demands snarling through him.

Cale bent to sweep his lips over the curve of her gorgeous ass, leaving that tempting swell to trace up her spine with the drag of his tongue. Every nerve, every inch of him, was on fire. His head pounded, his sex a throbbing rage of impatience. Yet he couldn’t resist this small tactile intimacy. He’d ached for her.

He came to an obstacle and opened his eyes to stare at the clasp of her utilitarian white cotton bra. A barrier easily breached, but he hesitated. Because he was seeing that humble scrape of pink shielding the last of her modesty, hearing those soft, frantic sounds.

Hearing them . . . now?

Startled,
shocked,
Cale stumbled back as if that desirable flesh had electrified. He blinked to clear his vision, struggling to find a path through the haze of his lust.

Kendra clung to the edges of the sink bowl with white-knuckled hands. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lashes wet with unshed tears. Those delicate features he loved were scrunched in an agony of defenselessness and dread as her body shivered fitfully, her breaths coming in hurried snatches. She was terrified—of him.

Cale reeled away, staggering until he bumped the far wall. Pressing his palms and burning brow to the cool tiles, he whispered hoarsely, “I thought you wanted this, wanted me.”

When she didn’t answer, he doubled over, the frustration and horror of how close he’d come to . . . He fought the need twisting tight inside him, demanding that he take her, even against her will. He breathed hard to keep that restraint in focus while the rest of him howled fiercely for satisfaction.

“This morning,” he panted, “you were so turned on, if my bike had a backseat, we would have been fucking in it. You can’t tell me you didn’t want me, that some part of you doesn’t want me now! Katy, tell me you want me.”

He turned to find out the truth, and it nearly killed him.

She’d pulled up her pants and slumped to the floor, where she sat with arms hugging shaking knees together. Tragic eyes gazed up as she quietly told him, “I’m sorry. Not this way.”

Cale leaned back against the wall, those words draining everything vital out of him. Because he couldn’t bear her dejected features, he raised his stare to the mirror and got a good look at what she was seeing. A dangerously unstable beast with fresh blood streaking his arms and face, his eyes huge black holes ringed with fire. He whirled away, striking the wall with his palms, shattering the tiles with his fists as that shredding aggression surged once more. “Fuck!”

He nearly wrenched the door off its hinges as he stalked out into the hall, where a wall of noise sent him swaying. He gulped for breath, shivering for a long minute, before returning to put his hand down to her. He would never, ever leave her behind again. She took it gingerly and let him lift her to her feet and lead her into the crowded hall. There, he passed her to Tony with a firm command that this time he take her home.

Cale continued into the club’s packed interior without looking back. The second his clan caught sight of him, the sound level rose in a roar as he was surrounded. Males pumped his hands and pounded his back. Females wiggled close to lick the blood from his arms and tried to kiss it from his face. Slowly, the guilt and pain subsided as he was hoisted into the air upon the shoulders of his people while they shouted his name, followed by “Our prince!”

Ferocious gratification swelled. Cale closed his eyes, drinking in that euphoric rush. He put back his head for a wild screaming yell. As that triumphant echo faded, he heard another cheer rise.

“Our king!”

thirteen

Kendra sat quietly in the backseat of the Escalade. No music was playing as they headed up the mountainside. Tony remained silent, never violating her privacy even when glancing in the rearview. She was completely alone in her misery.

She’d had every intention of going through with it.

When she’d seen Cale coming down that hall, pumped with victory, drenched in the fate of those who’d hurt her, her heart had staggered. All she could think was
Don’t let this moment pass
. The solid feel of him, the always devastating effect of his kisses, and she was ready to cast everything aside to have him. Nothing else mattered. He was her first love, her prince. He would be her first lover. And maybe her only.

She’d been sure that initial wave of passion could wash away the anxious shivers. That once they made love, all her fear would be vanquished. The tantalizingly male contours she’d explored through his clothing that morning had become an obsession. Wondering what he’d feel like in her hand, inside her body, had her embarrassingly restless all day. Just his scent created unbearable arousal as instinct began to prowl.

If only he’d dropped his pants first to distract her, instead of taking down hers in such a forceful hurry. Things might have been very different.

The porcelain sink had made her think of cold cement cutting into her palms and knees. The pressure on the back of her neck, the sense of being startlingly exposed, brought back the memory of those rough, groping hands and the painful invasion of their fingers. Kendra just knew the second Cale touched her, she was going to begin a mad shrieking and not be able to stop. The slow, sensuous stroke of his tongue had taken the screaming edge off, making her think she could get through it.

But they hadn’t gotten that far.

I thought you wanted this, wanted me.

She’d seen that stark look on Cale’s face before, when he’d spotted her crouched in her mother’s closet and he had known she would never again view him as anything but a monster.

She’d done nothing to discourage that opinion.

When they reached the private lodge, Tony walked her to the door and waited until she was safely inside before wishing her good night. She stood in the dark on that threshold she was too afraid to cross as long minutes crept by.

What if he didn’t come back to her?

What if, after a night of celebrating his victory with those females who’d had their hands all over him, Cale withdrew his protection the way she’d withdrawn her agreeability? She had no hold on him. Nothing to bind him to his promises. If he rejected her, she’d be fair and tasty game for his brothers. Her shivering returned.

Only one brief act stood in her way. Once they got past that, she’d be safe. And tied to Cale and his life here forever. Part of her rebelled against that sacrifice while another whispered, “You know you want him. You’ve always wanted him.”

Confused and dispirited, Kendra crossed the darkened living room and entered the bedroom. Everything was neat and tidy. All signs of their having shared the bed were gone. She sat on its edge and studied that smooth, unrumpled surface, thinking of Cale’s drugging kisses, hearing the sound of harsh breathing, trying to separate fears of the past from current necessity and desires. What was she going to do?

Feeling a desperate need to reach out from her suffocating isolation, she dug through her makeup case to find her phone and redialed the number Brigit had called from. Ringing, but no answer, no invitation to voice mail. What message could she have left for her friend and confidante? “Help me. I think I have Stockholm syndrome. I just might be infatuated with my captor”? No, that wasn’t true. It was so much more than that.

What could Brigit do to save her? Kendra had made her choice when she left the relative safety of New Orleans to return to this dangerous captivity. She’d done so in order to protect the man she’d adored all her adult years, who was not, despite Brigit’s promises, coming to rescue her. Who, even though he admittedly cherished her, felt none of the blazing desire to have her that fired in Cale Terriot’s eyes. Silas was driven by purpose, not passion, and for the moment, his dedication didn’t include making good on their platonic vows. She could wait until she became a priority, if that ever happened, or she could accept and explore her current situation.

Tonight she’d seen a glimmer of that good man Cale claimed he wanted to be. With her at his side.

Give him something.

She could hear her cousin’s advice. Stall, tease, distract. She lacked Brigit’s instinctive way with men, the gift that let her charm and toy with them without ever giving away anything of herself. That wasn’t her way, but an idea took root. If she were doing the giving on her own terms, Cale would be less likely to do the taking on his own. And then, perhaps, they could meet in a satisfying middle.

Cale stood in the shadowed doorway. Before him was everything he’d ever wanted, there for the taking, but for the first time in a long time, he was afraid to make a move.

A blush of moonlight filtered down from the skylight to bathe Kendra’s sleeping form in a tender halo. So beautiful that it hurt him to look upon her while dark, urgent thoughts prowled. His gaze adored the relaxed innocence of her features, the way her fair hair rippled across the pillow like silk. No protective bulk of fleece tonight. Something silky and shimmering detailed the contours of her graceful shape.

His soft exhale of longing was tempered by the fisting of hands that still shook despite all he’d done to flush the herbs from his system.

He’d partied like a rock star at the club, moving with a manic energy to the pounding music with every female in the room while his thoughts were filled with one. He’d made Daryl stop halfway up the mountain to let him out so he could run the rest of the way, but the frantic, growling aggression kept pace.

With a dangerous fervor, he’d stalked through the woods where he’d almost lost his life, this time devouring anything warm-blooded that crossed his path, and still he starved for more. He wailed and howled up at the heavens until his voice was gone, yet the beast inside him screamed above his guilt over the brothers who had died. For Michael. For Derrick.

Finally, he made his way back to the lodge, exhausted, dripping with sweat, strung so tightly that every muscle quivered like a drawn bowstring. He couldn’t keep himself away any longer. His need had intensified into an agony of desire and regret.

Tony was where he was instructed to be, guarding the lodge inside the warm interior of the Escalade. When the bodyguard joined him to advise that he’d tucked Kendra safely inside, Cale saw a protective reluctance in Tony’s eyes as he stepped aside to let his ragged and trip-wired prince pass. Her scent drew him inexorably where he shouldn’t go, where he couldn’t trust himself to be. Close enough to be a threat to her. Because promises had yet to be sealed with a bond.

She stirred in her sleep, murmuring softly, rolling onto her back. That slippery gown whispered across her breasts and hips the way his hands yearned to. He watched her take unhurried breaths, unaware of how harsh and forceful his own had become.

Take her!

It was the way his family did things. Swift, purposeful action, necessarily brutal, to take and hold what was theirs. His queen, beside him. His heirs, inside her.

That dizzying heat returned, scalding his brain, flaming through his body in a shuddering rush. An inferno of raw, violent determination.

She’s yours by her own vow. Claim her!

She shifted within that seductive wrap of silk, and all he could think of was tearing it off her, tearing into her, feeling the warmth of her body, tasting her blood, exulting in the glorious relief of joining with her beautiful spirit.

Staining it. Bruising it. Violating it the way Michael had thought to. Crushing it along with her trust and any love she might ever have felt for him.

“Cale?”

The cool touch of her voice pierced through the pounding rage of his intentions. He faded back into shadow, silently withholding his presence from her until she settled back to sleep. Then he blindly reeled with a soul-drunk anguish into the living room, where he collapsed upon the couch.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Instead of quickly leaving his system the way it always had, the organic rush burned through him, scorching his nerves and muscles instead of augmenting them. His sweat was dry on his skin, every drop of moisture cooked from him as the fever continued to spike. He couldn’t catch his breath. His heart raced until he wondered with a detached vagueness if it meant to explode.

And in his spinning mind, he thought of poison, of poison meant to kill him.

He hadn’t returned.

In the warm pooling sunlight, Kendra glanced about in sinking dismay. Cale hadn’t come back. Nothing had been disturbed since she’d lain back upon the covers to wait for him.

His absence was unexpectedly wounding, but the reason behind it filled her with unease. Would another Terriot prince be moving in today to replace him? If that were the case, she could anticipate no mercy or restraint. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the brutal sight of Bram Terriot growling over her mother’s back. Was that what she had to look forward to in the next few hours?

If she ran, would she have the slightest chance of escape?

If you don’t accept my protection, I can’t help you.

She’d never get off the mountain intact, perhaps not even alive. Struggling with that panicked certainty, Kendra slipped from the bed and moved anxiously into the outer room. She came to an abrupt halt at the sight that greeted her. The prayer of relief whispered from her, soft and shaky.

Cale was sprawled on the floor with one booted foot on the sofa cushions, showing every indication of a hard, hellacious night. His closed eyes were sunken and deeply shadowed, his hair stiff with dried sweat. More bloodstains covered his skin and torn clothing; perhaps he’d found more debts that needed settling. She was guiltily pleased to note that no female scent was attached to him. He didn’t stir as she crossed the room.

Carefully, she moved his foot and settled on the couch. Since he was lying along the bottom of it, she reclined on the cushions, resting her head on her arm as she studied him.

Cale Terriot. Treasured friend from childhood or terrorizing intimidator from the not so distant past? The lines between the two confusingly blurred. There were moments when he’d smile and the surfacing sweetness would stir in her all sorts of buried emotions, leaving her dangerously vulnerable. Then that expressionless mask would drop into place, the one he wore when about his father’s business, and from behind it he could deal out a stunning degree of viciousness, as if morality never registered. Both sides fed upon her loneliness, upon the restlessness of late-blooming sexuality.

Was she
seriously
considering staying with him? About bonding as his life’s mate?

That would mean remaining here, locked away from a world she’d hoped to enjoy, a pampered prisoner, but prisoner nonetheless. Sharing every little intimate detail of her days and nights with this quixotic man she didn’t understand. Trusting him to care for her, to protect and cherish her.

Then there was the sex. And that, she guessed, would be frequent and vigorous whenever and wherever he was in the mood. Just thinking about it quickened the curious stir in her center. Before she could stop herself, she put her fingertips to his cheek. And gasped as he caught her wrist roughly.

His eyes flashed open, seeming more incredibly pale and beautiful against the shaded bruising surrounding them. Once he recognized her, his words were rough. “Probably not a good idea to startle me when I’m sleeping.”

“I’ll make a note.” Kendra withdrew her hand when he released it, rubbing at her abraded wrist while he rolled his head away and laid his forearm across his eyes. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have reason to wake you.”

That flat tone deflated fragile hopes. Kendra swallowed hard. A forlorn prickle of pride refused to let her beg him. “It should only take a few minutes to pack up my things.”