Prowl the Night (12 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Prowl the Night
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“Of course they do,” his mother replied, and he reluctantly refocused his attention on the conversation at hand. Her eyebrows rose, her face still unlined and lovely despite her age. “I hate to be blunt, my dear, but when is the last time you coupled in Panther form? Are you both doing your duty to continue our line?”
Tomas felt a humiliated flush heat the back of his neck. Partially because his mother was right—they hadn't tried to breed in months. He took a large swallow of his champagne and wished it were something a hell of a lot stronger. “We've had some difficulty settling in to our new positions in the Pride.”
“That's natural, especially as she learns her place. She needs to adapt to her duties as your wife. There's much change for her to make still. Your mother and I would like to see her take a more active role in the Pride, and not hide in that computer of hers.” His father smiled and it wasn't pleasant.
His mother's gaze hardened. “Doubtless you thought we didn't know about her little job, but this isn't how she should be spending her days, and you know it.”
On reflex, Tomas opened his mouth to agree. He'd had those same thoughts a hundred times, but then he stopped. Suddenly, it hit him so clearly exactly what his parents had planned for Ciri. It wasn't just an adjustment to a new life, it was total change in her character, it was forcing her to become someone else entirely.
“Like you gave up your little job?” The words fell unheeded from his lips. His mother had been in medical school, with the promise of becoming a Pride physician, when Pedro had claimed her as his mate.
His mother flattened her lips. “Yes. It's necessary for leaders' mates to make themselves fit into the proper role, the correct lifestyle.”
The implacable expression on her face made him want to growl. Because his mother had sacrificed all her personal ambitions, Ciri had to as well? He'd known that some adjusting needed to take place, some bending, but this? No. He didn't want Ciri to become someone else. He loved her just as she was,
because
she was perfect for him. It would be so easy for him to lose himself in Pride politics, to forget the rest of the world existed. He needed her to remind him, to hold him back from becoming . . . his father.
As much as he admired his father, Tomas couldn't help but recall the underlying strain that had always existed in his parents' relationship. His mother did as she was told, just as his sister did, but in every way that mattered, they had separate lives, separate activities. She had her duties and he had his. For his father, his family always came second or third or last on his list of priorities.
“No. You're wrong. I think Ciri can spend her days any way that she sees fit. Her work is important to her, just as my work is important to me.” Internally, he staggered a bit. It was the first time he'd ever admitted that there didn't have to be an all or nothing change for either of them. They balanced each other, as he'd told her, and that was a
good
thing. Before now, he'd always agreed with his sire on this issue, but where would getting what he wanted leave him? Exactly where he was. Without Ciri. Which was the last thing he wanted.
Pedro's face mottled an ugly red. “Nothing is more important than the Prides. Everything else must be sacrificed if we are to remain strong.”
“That's my job. I am the heir. I will be the Pride leader. That's my destiny, not hers.” And unless he made some drastic changes, all he was going to have was his parents' mating—one where Ciri was only on the periphery of his life, and her resentment for him grew until there was no love left between them.
No. A thousand times, no. Everything in him rejected the very idea.
“Let me make myself clear.” He glanced back and forth between his parents. “You are not welcome to comment on my marriage or how my wife and I conduct our affairs. If she wishes to work, I have no problem with that. She'll provide the appropriate portion of her income to Pride upkeep as everyone else does. She's my wife, not my secretary. She's also not you, Mother, and I don't expect her to conduct her affairs as if she were. Her life is her own.” His father opened his mouth to speak, but Tomas cut him off. “Also, I'm taking on an assistant. I'm going to be spending more time with my mate and less time chained to my desk. If you want those grandchildren, I have to have time to beget them.”
Pedro's mouth flapped, a gurgle bubbling out of him.
Patting his sire's shoulder, Tomas smiled. “Some people need to make changes, Father, but Ciri's not one of them. Try to force her and I'll step down as heir, and if you think your other offspring is strong enough to be a leader, you're wrong. Think about what would happen to the Pride if I left.”
The breath whooshed out of Pedro's lungs, but he made no response. It was the first time in his life that Tomas had ever seen the man speechless. His mother's face was flushed and the hand that gripped Pedro's arm was now tipped in deadly talons. Tomas thought about what the consequences of this confrontation might be. His father might be angry enough to disinherit him, but there were worse things.
Losing Ciri would be the worst thing that could ever happen to him—far worse than shaming his family, than disappointing his parents, than letting down his Pride. Antonio was right—a good man, a good mate, would have to balance having two first priorities. Tomas had had to confront so many changes in his life lately that he often thought he didn't know who he was anymore. But whoever he was going to be, whatever kind of Pride leader, of
man,
he was going to grow into, he needed Ciri with him.
Which was exactly what he should have been assuring her of all along.
9
C
iri avoided Tomas for the rest of the ball. It was bad enough that the extra senses of the Panthers meant they could smell him all over her, but she didn't want to tempt herself again. She didn't trust the wildness inside her not to jump him. Anytime she sensed him coming near, she moved somewhere else. She knew he was looking for her, could
feel
it, but she managed to skirt him.
She was less successful at avoiding Solana, who caught her as she was sneaking out onto the terrace for some fresh air. Several other guests were out there, so it didn't look conspicuous, but it didn't smell like Tomas out there. Solana passed her a glass of champagne and looked out over the large hedge maze they had on the property. “What do you think of Australia's bid to provide our next Second?”
Ciri's belly clenched for so many reasons. Isabel had mentioned earlier that week that Ciri being attacked in North American territory meant Tomas was being recalled to South America and his father would expect reparations from Antonio for not keeping her safe. That couldn't have been good news for this Pride, and after Ciri's confrontation with Antonio, it made her wary that Solana would ask her opinion for anything. It had been obvious since that disastrous dinner her first week that they agreed on nothing. Her mind scrambled for an answer that would get her out of actually answering. “I'm sure my mate believes it would be an interesting move to make.”
Solana flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder, the style deliberately mussed and somehow perfect for her. “I didn't ask what your mate thought, I asked what you thought.”
“I leave the politics to Tomas. Unless it really matters to me, I avoid playing those petty little games.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, undeniably harsh and likely to embarrass Tomas and his family. She wished she could make herself not care, but knowing she shouldn't be with Tomas didn't mean she didn't love him.
Solana shrugged. “It was never a deep interest of mine, either, but you can't help but pick it up if you're around this crowd long enough.”
That was true enough. Ciri knew far more about the interworkings of the different Prides than she'd ever thought possible. She opened her mouth to make a polite reply, and then decided against it. If she was going to embarrass her mate, she might as well make the most of it. She was already on a roll with interfering bluntness this evening. “I think you'd do better to take a Second from the African Pride.”
The older woman blinked. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Because you have more to gain that way. Australia already has a firmly established power base, but Africa is still new and they'd be willing to make a lot more concessions to get a Second in another Pride so soon.” She sipped her champagne and wished she had strawberries to go with it. The thought sent a pang through her as she recalled the last time she'd had the fruit. “Tomas said you recognized the Benhassis claim to the leadership first, but this would solidify your alliances much more.”
“Your father-in-law would never risk it. He's still waiting for them to have a civil war again.”
She shrugged. “I know. But Antonio
would
risk it, so take advantage and strike while the iron is hot. It's of the most potential benefit to your Pride.”
Solana snorted. “You know, after tonight, you're not going to be able to claim you don't care about Pride politics. And, in this case at least, I agree with you. I'll talk to my mate.”
She was right. Ciri swirled the bubbly liquid around in her glass. “I've changed my mind about non-shifters. They aren't a curse, and they can provide income for a Pride, if not children.” She took a breath. “But I still disagree about
any
humans knowing about us.”
Tilting her head sent her chocolate-colored curls cascading over her shoulder, and Solana narrowed her gaze. “You want to throw out a person just because they happen to be
destined
to mate with a human.”
“Yes.” Ciri nodded decisively. “I know it sounds cruel, but one person's comfort isn't worth
everyone's
safety. Every human who knows puts all of us at risk. One word, one leak to a reporter and that's a secret we can't take back. It's a danger to all of us. I'm sorry for those Panthers, I truly am, but they can't bring their humans to the Prides and they can never tell our secrets. Ever.”
“I understand your point of view. I don't agree, but I understand.”
“I feel the same about your stance on this issue.”
“God, we sound like our husbands.” Solana rolled her eyes.
“True.” Ciri burst into laughter. It felt good, as if she hadn't laughed in the entire time she'd been here. She'd been through so much, but it had made her grow in ways that perhaps she needed. Repressing everything she'd felt hadn't been healthy.
Solana's expression sobered. “I know you haven't enjoyed your time here, and some of that was my fault. I wasn't as understanding or welcoming as I should have been—no, really.” She held up her hand when Ciri tried to speak. “I just don't want you to think that you won't make a good leader's mate because this Pride didn't suit you. You wouldn't do well ruling
this
Pride, but South America is different, and I think Tomas and you will be fine there.” She waved her champagne flute. “You also don't have to buy into the bullshit that you have to give up your work and live for the Pride if you're in a leading family. Andrea has her fashion design business, and I still run the bar I owned when I married Antonio. There are examples in other Prides too.”
“I'm not going to give up my graphic art.” It was the first time Ciri had said it out loud, and it felt good. She could bend in certain areas, help with political things sometimes, but she wouldn't give up
herself
for anyone, and her work was a large part of who she was. Which was something Tomas had said they had in common. He was right.
“Tomas is looking for you.” Solana's gaze went to the open French doors that led back to the ballroom. “He knows you're avoiding him.”
“I know.”
“Did you know he'd decided to get an assistant so he can spend more time with you?” She waited a beat, a cat aware that her prey was now hanging on her every word. “Did you know he threatened to resign as heir if Pedro tried to make you stop taking graphic design commissions?” Her dark gaze sparkled mischievously. “And that if he interfered in your marriage or tried to change you in any way, you'd both leave the Pride entirely?”
Ciri's heart stopped in her chest. “Are . . . are you sure?”
“That's what he told Miguel. Of course, Miguel told Tomas about your run-in with Antonio.” Shrugging delicately, the other woman grinned. “You know how gossip is, it spreads like wildfire. I just thought you might like to know.”
“Thank you,” Ciri croaked.
Her head spun as Solana walked away. Could this mean what she thought it meant? Tomas didn't want her to change everything? He was willing to fight for her to keep her art? She stumbled over to a stone bench and plopped down. He wanted to spend more time on their marriage. He wasn't just
saying
he would, but actually
doing
something that would make more time for them to be together.
There was so much she needed to talk to him about, and she couldn't even stop herself reeling enough to get up from the bench. Hope exploded inside her, so white-hot and fierce that it rocked her. She wanted their mating to work so much, and she knew Tomas would never have said such things to his father if he didn't mean them. He wouldn't have repeated them to Miguel if he intended to back down.
If he was willing to meet halfway, so was she. If they tried, if they worked with each other instead of pulling against each other and insisting their way was best, they could do this.
She loved him too much, needed him too much, not to risk it. If she'd learned anything from all of this, it was to fight for what she believed in.
And she believed in them. She wouldn't have held on so long if she didn't. She'd have given up and stopped struggling for acceptance months ago.
She needed to find Tomas.
Tomas woke up and tried to roll over, but found he couldn't move.
Panic exploded through him, and he lunged against his bindings, the animal in him wild to escape any cage.
“Shh. Don't fight it, my mate.”
He caught Ciri's scent the moment before his gaze found the slim shadow of her in the dark room. “Untie me.”
“No.” She reached out and flipped on the bedside lamp, and he blinked against the sudden glare.
He hissed and turned his face away. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn't want to be in this room anymore.”
“And I thought you wanted me here.” Her hands cupped his jaw, urging him to face her.
“You were avoiding me tonight after we had sex.” He gave her a pointed glance, daring her to refute him.
She nodded, not running from the argument, which made something loosen inside him. If they couldn't talk honestly about their problems, then they would never get better, and he admitted to himself that if he couldn't listen when she did tell him what was wrong, then he wasn't doing much to help improve their relationship either.
That she was here, that she'd come to him now, and what Miguel had told him about standing her ground against a Pride leader, made more hope than he'd felt in months spread through him. It had hurt to have her run from him tonight, but so much had hurt lately. And he'd hurt her too. They had a lot of ground to make up.
Her fingers stroked along his jaw. “I . . . I heard about what you said to your father. About me. About us.”
“I meant every word.” He met her gaze, let everything show in his. “I swear I'll work harder.”
Her nose wrinkled. “You work too hard as it is.”
“On our
marriage.
” He tugged at his bindings, but they held fast. He ignored them. Talking this out with her had all his focus. “I'm going to delegate more work in the Pride. I don't want to be like my father. I don't want you to be like my mother, where you give up everything for me and hate me for it in the end.”
“I won't be like your mother. I'm not going to give up my career for you. It fulfills me, and I refuse to believe that I have to sacrifice that just to facilitate you keeping what fulfills you. Solana still has her business and I'm going to keep mine. I have to. I need my art.”
He nodded, feeling the soft pillowcase rub against his cheek. “Father's not going to like it, but I'm with you in this fight.”
“Good.” A little smile curled her lips, and she dropped her chin to her chest, her dark hair falling around her shoulders. “That's good.”
“Yes, it is.” He tried to sit up, to reach for her, and remembered he was bound. He growled and subsided back to the mattress. “We have to support each other, Ciri, or we'll lose the most important thing, and that's
us
. I refuse to have my parents' marriage.”
“I refuse to have your parents' marriage, too.” Her fingers tightened on the thin rope she clutched in one hand. “I refuse to become your mother.”
He snorted. “I refuse to become my father.”
“Okay, then.” Her grin widened and she met his gaze. “I can live with that.”
“So can I. We've changed a lot and we'll change a lot more in the future. I don't know who we'll be, but I know I want to find out
together
.” He searched her face as he said it, hoping she felt the same. “I don't want to be separated.”
“I don't either.” Her eyes were wide, and her expression was open. “I want us both to have what we need to be happy.”
“I want that too.”
Shaking her head, she sighed. “We should have had this conversation a long time ago.”
He shrugged and the ropes tying his wrists to the headboard went taut. “Maybe we didn't know how. Maybe we weren't ready. Maybe the last few weeks have shown us just how much we have to lose if we don't hold on to each other.”

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