Jaguar's Kiss

Lone Pine Pride - 1

Vivi Andrews

For my fabulous editor—thank you for sharing my excitement over this new pride.

And, always, for my family—you make my dreams possible.

Chapter One

Lila Fallon stared at the stack of wedding magazines with an emotion that was far too similar to loathing. Most twenty-three-year-old women would be giddy at the idea of planning their weddings. Especially twenty-three-year-old women who had a—let’s face it—near-compulsive obsession with girly clothes and pretty hairstyles.

But then, most twenty-first-century women weren’t shape-shifting lionesses marrying the pride’s next Alpha in a glorified arranged marriage. And most women had actually been proposed to by their fiancés.

Maybe that was the problem. Not that there was a problem. She was fine with the situation. Perfectly fine. So what if Roman hadn’t proposed? Or said so much as a single romantic word to her during her entire life? They got along well enough. Even if he had always treated her as a cross between a much younger sister and a pet—which hadn’t exactly inspired burning passion in return.

The age difference really hadn’t helped. She’d still been in grade school when her father hand-picked teenage Roman to train as his successor. Regardless of the eight-year gap, it had just been assumed that when she came of age, she and Roman would tie the knot to shore up any cracks in the solidarity of the pride. The Alpha’s only daughter and his personally selected replacement. Done deal.

And that was fine. Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine. Lila wasn’t a complainer. She knew her role, knew her duty, and was happy to be a contributing member of the pride. She was happy to be marrying Roman. Happy, damn it.

She just seemed to be suffering from an irrational hatred of bridal magazines. Nothing strange about that.

Lila swept the magazines off her vanity and kicked them under her bed with one high-heeled foot. Not the most mature way to deal with the situation, but she didn’t want to see those smug bridal faces smiling up at her. Not today.

Her gaze was drawn inevitably to the clock. Five twenty. An hour and forty minutes before the All Pride meeting. Probably ten minutes of other pride business and then it would happen. In one hundred and ten minutes, her father would stand up on that stage, beaming like the proud papa he was, and announce the date of her wedding.

No more theoretical, vague, long engagement. Three months. New Year’s. Done deal.

Which was good. Great even. She was euphoric. Over the moon. Couldn’t be happier. Hadn’t she just been complaining to Patch the other day that she was living in a state of perpetual virginity, waiting for her future-Alpha pseudo-fiancé to make a move since all of the other lions in the pride were too damn scared of him to poach on what they perceived to be his territory? She’d been waiting for what felt like years for her life to start and now the date had been set. Prayers answered.

So why couldn’t she get a full breath?

What she needed was a celebration. A night out with her best friend. Drinking, flirting, dancing, forgetting—no, not forgetting. Nothing to forget. Life was good. Life was worth celebrating.

Lila plucked her cell phone off her vanity and dialed Patch. It went straight to voicemail and she sighed, waiting as Patch chattered through her Thank you for calling Montana Mountain Guides spiel. She couldn’t mention the wedding date on a message. That was in-person news. Instead, she waited patiently for the beep and put on her most cheerful voice, which was pretty damn cheerful.

“Patch, darling! I have news. I realize you’re probably out shooting the rapids or wrestling a bear or doing some other gloriously outdoorsy activity, but this is your friendly reminder that your ass had better be on time to the All Pride meeting tonight. And wear something cute. You’re taking me to the Den after.”

There. That was suitably mysterious.

Lila dropped the phone back on the vanity, exchanging it for a bottle of nail polish. When in doubt, primp. That was her motto.

By six thirty she was polished, curled and made-up to a glossy shine. Blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders in an artless tousle she’d spent nearly thirty minutes perfecting. Her blue eyes were lined with just enough kohl to be sexy without crossing the line into trashy. Lips that always seemed a little too big for her face were carefully lined and painted a demure pink. A soft flowing white dress with tiny red flowers twisting across the skirt and her red-and-white floral print heels completed the most bridal-looking outfit she owned.

As ready as she would ever be, she trotted quickly down the stairs of the lodging house and started across the compound to the Pride Hall. She’d probably be expected to move in with Roman soon. Funny, she didn’t even know where he lived, never seeing him anywhere but his office. There were scattered bungalows on the pride lands as well as the common buildings and a collection of lodging houses like the one she’d moved into five years ago that were more like condominium complexes. And then there was the main house up on the hill overlooking it all. The Alpha’s house. Where she’d grown up and where she and Roman would live when he took over the pride. Raising babies and ruling the world from on high.

Lila stopped, bracing a hand against the big maple tree twenty feet from the main entrance to the Pride Hall. Her knees were shaking.

Jitters. Perfectly normal. Everyone got bridal jitters.

“Lila?”

The smooth baritone, the soft barely-there lilt of an accent touching the vowels. She knew without looking who it would be. And she didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see those miles-deep brown eyes watching her with the unnerving mix of intensity and irritation. She’d never figured out why Santiago Flores always seemed so annoyed by her.

Conjuring up a smile, she turned her head and forced a sparkle into her voice. “Santiago. So good to see you.”

And it was always good to see him. The man was masculine beauty incarnate. Thick black hair just long enough to start to curl, burnished bronze skin, and a sculpted face and body that would have been pretty if it hadn’t been so powerfully male.

A slight frown put a crease between his brows. “Are you all right?”

“Me? Of course I am. Don’t be silly.”

A slow lift of one eyebrow seemed to argue that Santiago Flores was never silly. “You look like you’re about to vomit all over those pretty red shoes.”

“Why, Santiago, you do say the sweetest things.” She dimpled and batted her eyes at him—falling back on her second motto: It’s always the right time for flirtation. She angled her ankle to better display the shoes. “They are fetching, aren’t they?”

Those bottomless brown eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to be happy all the time like some kind of perfect little Stepford kitten. You’re allowed to have moods.”

She smiled brilliantly. “This is my mood.”

He snorted. “Of course it is. Why would anyone be frustrated by having their entire life story written for them? Never making any of their own choices—though maybe that’s what you want. If you don’t choose, it’s not your mistake, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lila swallowed, trying to maintain a smile that was wobbling around the edges.

He couldn’t know about today’s announcement. Only her father’s inner circle knew that they’d finally picked a date and Santiago was about as far from that inner circle as a pride member could get. He was one of the wanderers. The drifters. The outsiders who flocked to live under the protection of the Lone Pine Pride, but never truly fit in, living on their own off the pride lands, never giving up their isolation for the comfort of the pride. Lila couldn’t imagine living outside that security.

“I used to think you were too cowardly to take them, but do you even know that you have choices?” Santiago asked, his voice low enough that it started to pull the edge of a growl. “That you don’t have to march through life as the obedient daughter who never develops her own personality because she’s too busy following orders?”

Something hot pricked behind her eyes and she forced it back. He was just a loner. An outlier. His opinion of her didn’t matter. Even if he’s right.

“Oh, look, they’ve opened the Hall doors. I’d better go grab a seat before all the good ones are taken.” It was a flimsy excuse to escape, but she didn’t care. He already thought she was a coward. The cowardly lioness. If only there was a similarly fitting appellate she could throw at him about jaguars. Not that she would. The Alpha’s daughter did not lower herself to name-calling.

The Pride Hall was filling quickly. The large, open multipurpose room could fit sixty comfortably, but today it would be called upon to house nearly twice that number. The sixty core lions, plus roughly twenty cats of other breeds who lived on the pride lands, and nearly forty outliers coming in from miles around to heed the Alpha’s summons. Mandatory All Pride meeting. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had one, but whenever it was, the pride had been smaller then. Over the last few months there had been a steady influx of shifters from the south, begging for sanctuary.

Something was coming. The Texas lions were stirring things up, trying to get the shifter community unified behind the idea of coming out to the humans by threatening them with the bogeyman of some mysterious organization that was abducting and running tests on shifters. People were scared, and everyone was looking to Lone Pine to see which way the wind was blowing. In recent years they’d become the biggest and most influential pride west of the Mississippi as well as the only pride in the country to accept non-lion shifters into their ranks, so everyone was waiting to hear how the Lone Pine Alpha would respond to the threat from the south.

That was what today’s meeting was about—informing the pride of the tales the new arrivals from the south had brought and warning the strays and outliers to be careful and stay close to pride lands whenever possible until they knew more about whether this organization was a legitimate concern. The wedding announcement was just the spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down. Something positive for the entire pride to look forward to so they had something other than an unseen enemy to think about.

Lila smiled, chatted and flirted her way around the room—taking the time to introduce herself to new faces as she threaded her way toward a cluster of open seats along the far aisle. A good Alpha’s mate was accessible and engaged with her people, and Lila was going to be the best damn Alpha’s mate this pride had ever seen. Not that her mother hadn’t set that bar rather high.

She looked to the stage and there they were. The perfect power couple. Gregory and Lucienne Fallon. Her parents.

The man who’d been Lone Pine Alpha for the last twenty-five years didn’t look like he’d just had his fiftieth birthday and neither did the statuesque beauty at his side. They both still radiated strength, vitality, and calm, contained power. Roman had that same aura, standing at the foot of the stage with her father’s best friend and her godfather, the bear shifter Hugo.

The only one who didn’t fit in with the perfect Alpha power tableau was Lila.

Mild, biddable, obedient Lila. Was it really so terrible to be obedient? To prefer going with the flow to making waves? So what if she always did as she was told? Since when was that a crime?

Lila twisted toward the door, telling herself she was looking for Patch, when in reality her eyes were searching out a certain black panther. He loomed near the door, leaning against the back wall, his sleekly muscled arms folded over his black T-shirt. Not lord of all he surveyed like Roman or her father, but apart from it all. Not above or below, just separate. Independent. Lila could almost envy him that knowledge of who he was outside the hierarchy. She only seemed to know who she was relative to the pride, like she would cease to exist entirely without them.

Santiago’s head turned, just a fraction, and suddenly he was pinning her with his gaze. Lila sucked in a gasp and whipped around, a blush heating her face from being caught gawking at him.

“You look guilty.” A pair of cowboy boots appeared at her side. Cowboy boots containing a big, lazy lion with a big, lazy smile. Kelly Mather. Biggest flirt in three counties. “I love guilty. Tell me all about it.”

Kelly tossed himself into the seat at her side, long legs stretched out in front of him. Lila smiled. She’d always liked Kelly. It was impossible to be stressed out around Kelly. Everything was light and easy with him. And though he never failed to make her feel pretty and pampered, he’d sooner cut off his arm than take it any further than flirtation. Kelly was safe. And so much fun to play with.

“I was saving that seat for Patch.”

Kelly doffed his cowboy hat and reached across her to set it on the empty seat on her other side. “Now you’re saving that seat for Patch.” He winked. “I know you weren’t trying to subtly tell me to get lost just then. My manly ego couldn’t stand the disappointment if you rebuffed me, fair Lila.”

“Where does a cowboy learn a word like rebuff?”

He leaned in close to her, light brown eyes twinkling. “Can you keep a secret? The cowboy thing is all an act to get girls. I’m secretly a literary scholar with a weakness for Renaissance poetry.”

“You can’t use Renaissance poetry to get girls? I’d think they would eat it up with a spoon.”

“I could,” Kelly acknowledged with a shrug. “But the cowboy stuff is easier. Just a little swagger and a few yes, ma’ams and y’alls and they’re eating out of my hand. Or anything else I want them to be eating.”

She rolled her eyes as he wagged his brows in exaggerated lechery. “You are a bad boy, Kelly Mather.”

He laughed, sun-lined eyes crinkling. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Lila Fallon.”

She grinned at him, everything fun and light and easy. As it was supposed to be. As she was supposed to be. No niggling jitters. No doubts.

She wasn’t a coward. She was a valuable member of the pride. She may not be the Alpha’s mate her mother was yet, but her mother had been in the position for twenty-five years. Lila would grow into it. And maybe she wasn’t madly in love with Roman, but they’d grow into each other too.

She wasn’t letting other people run her life. She was choosing the right path for her, which just also happened to be the right path for the pride and the one her parents had always wanted her to take. Everything was going to go exactly as planned. Everything was fine.

Lila settled in next to Kelly for a good, long flirt.

Chapter Two

Santiago Flores was giving serious thought to murdering Kelly Mather.

Not that it was Kelly’s fault. He was a genuinely nice guy who would flirt with a rock if it stood still long enough. No, the reason Santiago wanted Kelly dead and safely stowed beneath six feet of dirt was perched on the chair beside him in a frilly white dress, laughing and leaning in to touch his arm and batting her goddamn eyelashes.

Lila Fallon. The bane of Santiago’s existence. His personal curse.

Not that it was her fault either, if he was honest. Lila had never done anything to encourage him, beyond her usual friendly flirtation and she hadn’t done even that in years.

No, it was all on him. No one to blame but himself.

Five years ago, when he’d first come up to Montana from California, he’d only planned on staying a week, two at most. His career was just starting to take off and he’d landed a job designing a vacation escape in the mountains for one of his Beverly Hills clients. He’d come to survey the site and tailor the house design to the surroundings.

He’d dropped by the pride lands to see what all the fuss about Lone Pine was and to catch up with Mateo, a leopard from Los Angeles who’d moved up to join a few years earlier.

Then he’d clapped eyes on Lila Fallon.

She’d been playing football. In a skirt. More worried about her manicure than scoring a touchdown, but no one in the casual pick-up game had minded her skewed priorities. They’d laughed and teased with the easy byplay of a group that had known each other their entire lives. Santiago had felt a pang in his chest when he realized what it was he was seeing. Family. It had been a while since he’d had anything resembling one. Raised by a single mother who was just as happy on her own as he was, he’d never had that.

Santiago had watched the game, hypnotized by the way Lila’s long golden legs would eat up the yards whenever they (carefully, so as not to chip a nail) handed her the ball. She was wearing strappy sandals and actually had a pom-pom attached to her pony tail, but even looking like a renegade cheerleader let loose in the middle of the plays, it was impossible not to admire her grace and athleticism.

She wasn’t the only girl on the field—her friend Patch was quarterbacking the opposing team—but she might as well have been for all Santiago could see.

Then two of their number had been called away by a senior member of the pride and Lila had spotted Santiago and Mateo watching the game. She’d danced over—it could hardly be called walking, the way she did it.

“Who’s your friend, Mateo?” she’d asked, eyeing Santiago with open interest.

“Santiago Flores. Old friend from LA. I’m trying to convince him he’s a fool not to join Lone Pine.”

“Is that so? And what do you think, Mr. Flores? Do you like what you see?” she’d purred, tilting her chin down the better to look up at him beneath her lashes, her gaze filled with a warm invitation that made his blood heat, even though he told himself she was too young for him to take her up on it.

“It is beautiful,” he replied, glancing to the mountains in the distance then back to her, so she could take that however she liked.

“We’re more than just beautiful.” She tipped her head toward the game. “Come play with us. Let us show you what the pride’s all about.”

“And what’s that?”

She smiled, eyes twinkling. “Fun.”

Santiago blinked. He didn’t have fun. It wasn’t his style. That wasn’t to say he didn’t enjoy himself, but he wasn’t playful the way the lions on the field were. He looked out for himself. Always. And when you did that, there wasn’t always a lot of time for goofing off.

“Come on, Santiago Flores,” she’d wheedled. “You know you want to.”

It was no use resisting. She’d beg and flirt and cajole until the two of them agreed to fill in, but the truth was he wanted to play. She made him want that playfulness.

Santiago had found himself on Patch’s team—a tomboy in a Seahawks jersey with a mop of thick dark hair shoved underneath a baseball cap. She was a dictator on the field with an arm like Joe Montana. It would have been a runaway, except for the fact that none of the players on his team seemed willing to tackle Lila so all the opposition had to do was hand her the ball.

Patch had called the defense into a huddle, glowering fiercely up at all the big strong cats. “Santiago, defend Lila. If she scores, I’m telling the Alpha you’re a pussy who should be barred from pride lands forever.”

The others had laughed and the guy next to Santiago clapped him on the shoulder. “She’ll do it too. And the Alpha listens to Patch.”

Santiago grinned. “She won’t get anywhere near the end zone.”

The huddle broke up and Santiago took his position opposite Lila. His muscles were warm, his body relaxed, and his mind at ease among his fellow shifters in a way he’d never felt in any other community. No wonder Mateo loved it here.

Lila bounced on the opposite side of the line of scrimmage, her ponytail swinging as she trash talked. “You’re going down, Flores. I’m like a cheetah. You’re hopelessly outmatched, boyo.”

Santiago had never bothered with trash talk in sports. He just looked at Lila and smiled—and damned if her cheeks didn’t turn pink.

The ball was snapped and the quarterback passed it off to Lila. Her long, graceful legs stretched out in a dead run and Santiago gave pursuit. Damn, she was fast. Hell, maybe she was a cheetah. Lone Pine was known for taking cats of all types. He’d never met a cheetah shifter before, but he’d believe it of Lila—all long lines and grace.

But fast as she was, Santiago was faster. He caught her with an arm around her waist, swinging her up and around and off her feet. She squealed, clinging to the football as he took them both to the ground, cradling her against his chest so his body took the brunt of the impact.

She lay against him, both breathing hard, her body so warm and soft and smelling like apples. Suddenly things weren’t so playful. He should let her go. Open his arms and help her to her feet. The play was over, the rest of the players running toward them to set a new line of scrimmage. He needed to let her go…

But Lila wasn’t moving either. She was perfectly still in his arms, like fresh-caught prey waiting to see what the predator would do with it. He spread his hand over her abdomen, one thumb against her ribcage, just beneath her breast, and heard a throaty gasp.

“I guess you aren’t such a pussy after all.”

Santiago jerked his hands off Lila as Patch came to stand over them. She extended both hands to tug Lila to her feet and Santiago rolled away to rise, fighting his body’s reaction. Lila didn’t look at him, but her face was flushed—he hoped from more than the run.

They returned to the game and Lila scored on the next play—Santiago preoccupied with thinking about baseball statistics and Margaret Thatcher. The game broke up after that, shifters scattering to their evening tasks, Lila and Patch wandering off arm in arm, but not before Patch grinned at him with a “Not bad, Flores” and Lila tossed him another look under her lashes with “Not bad at all.”

Mateo clapped him on the shoulder and jerked his head toward what looked like low-rise apartments. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up before you meet the Alpha.”

Santiago had made it about five steps down the path before he had to ask. “Who is she?”

“Lila?” Mateo asked, somehow managing to seem surprised and not surprised at all at the same time. “She’s the Alpha’s only daughter.”

“Lioness.” Santiago cringed. Lions were the worst when it came to their rigid attachment to only dating their own kind.

“Yeah, that’s strike one,” Mateo agreed. “The Alpha’s barely legal daughter is strike two. And engaged to the Alpha’s successor is a big old strike three. Don’t get your hopes up, amigo.”

“Who’s getting their hopes up? It’s just the first time I’ve played football with a girl in a skirt.”

He hadn’t seen Lila again for the rest of his visit.

She was just eighteen then. Too young for him and wildly off limits even if her age hadn’t been an issue. It would have been idiotic to stay for her. So he told himself he stayed because Montana was gorgeous, the work was good, and he wanted that family connection being part of a pride could give him—which, as a jaguar, he could only get at Lone Pine.

He told himself that staying had absolutely nothing to do with Lila Fallon. But he could only lie to himself for so long.

He’d built a life he loved here. Sure, he wasn’t architect-to-the-stars like he’d originally dreamed, but this was even better, designing luxury vacation homes that flowed out of nature and melted seamlessly into their surroundings. He was in demand, and he’d even saved enough to build his own dream home in a secluded area a few miles off the pride lands.

He and Mateo were closer than ever, and Patch, of all people, had become one of his best friends. He’d bonded more with the other outliers than he had with the core lions, but that was to be expected.

It was a good life.

But he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Lila. He knew her marriage to Roman had been pre-ordained. The future Alpha seemed like a nice enough guy, though Santiago didn’t know him well. Santiago might have been jealous, but Lila and Roman had never acted like a couple. Neither of them seemed particularly interested in the future that fate had laid out for them. Santiago kept waiting for Lila to wake up and smell the options, for her to see that she could take hold of her life and turn it into whatever she wanted it to be, but she never did.

Their paths hadn’t crossed often. For the first four years she’d been commuting to the nearby university for classes and spending her free time with the other young shifters. Santiago hadn’t been invited to any more football games and she had never again tried to lure him in with a promise of fun. When they did interact, it was civil and distant. Polite. Lila was always polite.

He didn’t know why he’d given her a hard time before the meeting today. He shouldn’t have taken his bad mood out on her, but sometimes he just wanted to shake her until she realized she didn’t have to be the perfect puppet.

He’d been on edge ever since he’d gotten the notice for the pride meeting. He didn’t particularly care for being summoned in—no matter how much he liked and respected the Alpha—and he really didn’t care for the rumors he’d been hearing from the new arrivals. Things were far too unstable in the south.

He had taken to hanging around the pride lands more—not because he felt unsafe on his own, but because he wanted to keep an eye on Lila. Even if she was the most protected woman in the pride, he still felt like she wasn’t safe unless he was keeping her safe.

The possessiveness was irrational, but Santiago hadn’t lived as long as he did on his own without trusting his instincts and his instincts told him there was more to Lila Fallon than even she knew. More than a flirt and an obedient daughter. More than manicures and pretty shoes.

And whatever that more was, his instincts wouldn’t stop screaming that it was his. And he protected what was his.

He closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of her flirting with Kelly and the handful of other young lions who had flocked to her. This obsession wasn’t healthy. If he couldn’t get it under control, he was going to need to leave the pride, but every cell in his body rebelled at the idea of leaving her.

He was so fucking screwed up.

Someone bumped into him and he opened his eyes, reaching out automatically to steady her when he realized it was Patch. She mumbled an apology then looked up and smiled. “Oh. Hey, Santiago.”

“Patch.”

“It’s a zoo in here today, isn’t it?” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. Patch was a mountain lion. Even though she’d been raised on pride lands, she’d moved off as soon as she turned eighteen and had been an outlier like him ever since. The lions might get off on the togetherness, but the rest of them preferred their solitude. “Have you seen Lila?”

He jerked his chin toward where the princess was holding court. “Over there. Flirting with everything that breathes.”

“That sounds like Lila.” Patch swayed forward, shoved by the crowd. “Do you know what this is about?”

“I have a couple ideas.” Lions in Texas, threatening to come out to the humans. Shifters disappearing in Colorado and Utah. Some sort of mysterious human organization running tests on them.

“I guess the Alpha will tell us soon enough,” Patch said when Santiago didn’t volunteer his theories. “I’d better find Lila before it’s time to start.”

She dove back into the crowd, threading and shoving her way toward Lila and her entourage. Santiago tried not to watch, tried not to obsess over Lila, and had about as much success as he’d had for the last five years. None.

Thankfully, the Alpha called the meeting to order, providing a welcome distraction.

The announcements were, unfortunately, in line with what he’d been expecting. After a quick welcome of the new members and thanks to everyone for attending, the Alpha launched into an explanation of the troubles in the south—the Three Rocks lions’ plans to go public, their warnings about an organization abducting shifters for scientific experiments, and rumors about the disappearances in Colorado and Utah.

Other Alphas may not have told their prides about the rumors, may have made the necessary decisions and kept their people in the dark, but that was never how Gregory Fallon had operated. He wanted his people informed—but if they wanted Lone Pine protection, they still had to do as he said. And right now he was saying that the outliers needed to come in. Indefinitely.

Santiago bristled, and he wasn’t the only one, at the idea of having his freedom curtailed. He knew why the Alpha was asking, even understood that it was the best move for everyone involved until they knew more about the threats coming from the south, but that didn’t mean the jaguar beneath his skin liked the idea of sharing territory with all these other cats.

Even if Lila was one of them.

The Alpha held up a hand to quiet the rumblings of discontent rippling through the hall. No one wanted the outliers crowding onto pride lands, least of all the core lions who lived there. Sure, the pride had hundreds of acres of terrain and the facilities to house two hundred—Santiago should know, he’d designed the latest additions—but tempers were bound to flare if that many predators were forced to all live together.

“I know this will be a sacrifice, but until we know more, I feel it is necessary for the safety of our pride,” the Alpha went on. “And now for some good news. While we’re together seemed like the perfect time to begin planning an event I know many among us have been anticipating for years. I am delighted to be able to announce something that is a cause for great personal celebration, and hopefully gives our entire pride equal joy, the wedding date between my daughter Lila and my heir Roman has, at long last, been set. This New Year’s we will have more than another year to celebrate.”

There was cheering—Santiago knew there was cheering, but the sound was distorted, as if it were coming to him through a tunnel. He felt detached from his body, watching from a distance of miles as Lila stood and made her way to the stage, sliding her small, perfectly manicured hand into Roman’s large mitt.

At the touch, he snapped back into himself. His senses returned with a roar, and with them a fierce, wild, irrational rage. His jaguar was clawing against the inside of his skin, twisting and pushing to burst through. The anger blacked his vision and he pushed blindly toward the exit.

Three months. She was marrying Roman in less than three months.

He had to get out of here. Had to shift. Had to run.

He’d never involuntarily shifted before, but this had to be what it felt like. The jaguar was coming to the surface whether he wanted him to or not, a silent roar echoing in his head.

Santiago burst into the evening air seconds before the change ripped through him and his feral cat took command in a rush of rage and claws. The most animal part of him wanted to return and fight, but he forced himself to dart forward, away, the ground racing up to meet his paws, miles melting away as he ran.

Chapter Three

Lila had almost missed her cue.

All through her father’s speech, she couldn’t focus, a sort of creeping numbness fogging her awareness. Luckily Patch whispered her name and jostled her out of her catatonia just in time for her appearance. The one thing she was supposed to do and she’d nearly missed it.

She trotted up on stage, grabbed onto Roman’s hand and looked out over the sea of faces with her pretty social smile fixed firmly in place. Most of those faces were happy, a few held lingering concern from the earlier announcement.

Lila scanned the crowd for Santiago—not even sure why she was doing it—just in time to see the back of his head as he darted out of the building like it was on fire. No surprise there. She hadn’t exactly expected him to be happy for her. She shouldn’t have been looking for him in the first place.

The meeting had broken up shortly thereafter, though Lila had stuck around to accept congratulations and wedding tips from the pride’s matrons. She knew she shouldn’t have been relieved when an emergency had called Roman and the senior pride members away, but with her fiancé absent she’d been able to make her excuses and slip away to meet Patch at the Lion’s Den.

Located stumbling distance from most of the residential complexes, the bar was right in the heart of the pride lands. It wasn’t much—a couple of pool tables, an old juke box and a tiny dance floor—but as a shifters-only watering hole, it was often the only place where they could let their hair—or fur—down and just be themselves without worrying about what the humans might see or think if a drunken fight suddenly took a turn for the furry.

Seated next to Patch at the shadowy end of the bar, Lila watched the bartender, a dark-eyed tigress nicknamed Whiskey, slinging drinks.

“What are we drinking to?” Patch eyed the milky white shots of the bar’s signature drink dubiously. Called raki, or lion’s milk, it was a Turkish alcohol that tasted like black licorice, kicked like lighter fluid, and left the drinker with a sweet, smooth aftertaste and completely impaired judgment.

“To matrimony.” Lila lifted her shot and threw it back, sucking in a hard breath to keep from coughing as her eyes teared up.

Patch played with her shot, sliding it in circles on the surface of the bar. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was only decided this afternoon. I tried calling you, but it went straight to voicemail and it seemed like the kind of news that shouldn’t be left on a message.”

Patch made a face. “Yeah, sorry, I was probably out of range. Work stuff.”

“And how is life in the wilderness, Patricia Marie?”

Patch glared at the mention of her real name and downed her shot, gasping and giving her head a little shake.

“That good, huh?”

The cougar grimaced. “The season is winding down. This is usually when I would disappear on my own for a while, until the winter work starts up, but with the bogeyman out there, it looks like I’ll be hanging around here instead. Forgive me if I don’t jump for joy.”

Lila drew a fingernail through the condensation on the bar. For purely selfish reasons, she wanted Patch here with her and safe and sound, but she knew her best friend wasn’t a homebody like her. She’d go stir crazy if she had to stay here long term. “He isn’t forcing anyone to come in. It’s all voluntary.”

“It’s a warning I’d be stupid to ignore. I know better than anyone how quickly we can be taken.”

Lila went still. She’d forgotten. Not actually forgotten, but gotten so caught up in her own drama she hadn’t realized how Patch would be taking tonight’s news. What it would mean to her. She’d only come to live at Lone Pine after her parents had vanished. “Do you think these disappearances are related? Could the same people have taken your parents?”

“They could be. No way of knowing.” She reached for another shot of lion’s milk and Lila joined her. After they were done gasping and tearing up, Patch tapped the empty shot glass against the bar. “I hate that it’s still happening and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Roman will come up with a plan.” She may have jitters about the marriage, but Lila didn’t have even a twinge of reservations about her fiancé’s ability to guide the pride.

“He’s not in favor of coming out to the humans?”

Lila shook her head. “He wants to get together a hunting party and take the fight to whoever is abducting us. Says we aren’t predators for nothing.”

Patch smiled fiercely. “I always liked Roman.”

“I used to wonder if you more than liked him.” It was the raki. If Lila had been sober she never would have said it.

Her best friend’s face flamed. “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s your husband we’re talking about.”

“Not yet he isn’t.”

Suddenly restless, Lila waved to catch Whiskey’s attention and called out a request for a bucket of Patch’s favorite beer. Lila tossed her head to get her hair out of her eyes and tugged her best friend by the arm until she came off her stool. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. I wanna get out of here.”

“I thought the whole idea of coming to the Den was to be sociable and flirt with the world. Isn’t that what you told me?”

“You should never listen to anything I say. I don’t know what I’m talking about.” The bucket of beer appeared on the bar. Lila called out her thanks to Whiskey who was already walking away and grabbed the bucket by the handle. “Come on. Please? We’ll do a little bachelorette party. Just you and me.”

Patch didn’t take much convincing. She always preferred being outside in the quiet to being crowded in with other shifters at the Den. Lila grabbed her hand and towed Patch to the door, for once ignoring the laughing mix of invitations and complaints that followed in the wake of their departure. She threw a smile over her shoulder at the door to smooth any fur that was ruffled when she didn’t stay and play like usual.

Then they were outside and the cool night air was kissing her exposed skin, easing some of that restless agitation in her stomach. She handed Patch a beer and took one for herself, gently swinging the bucket as they wandered away from the noise of the main compound.

Patch, bless her, walked in companionable silence at her side, sipping her beer and tipping her head back to take in the stars. Lila didn’t look up. She kept her eyes on the gravel path in front of them until it faded into a dirt track wending up toward the hills on the northern edge of the pride lands.

Thank God for Patch, who always seemed to know exactly what she needed.

No one had expected them to be friends. They were night and day. Patch dark and tough, Lila fair and girly. Patch was happiest in the wilderness on her own, or guiding tourists through challenging rapids or mountain climbs. Lila’s idea of roughing it was a hotel without a spa attached. By rights they should have had nothing in common, but that had never mattered. They’d been inseparable since they were ten.

Lila was the Alpha’s daughter, and lions, even as children, had an intense awareness of hierarchy. She was always the princess, always a little separate from the other children—and she’d felt the isolation keenly. Then Patch had arrived at the pride, half-feral and wholly alone. Patch who treated her just like all the other lions because pride hierarchy meant nothing to her and they were all strangers to her.

Even at that age, Lila had been a pleaser, wanting everyone around her to be happy, so she’d made it her mission to make Patch feel accepted and welcomed, to make her feel safe and protected after the trauma of her parents’ disappearance. She’d talked her father into letting Patch foster with them, even though the Alpha traditionally didn’t take in strays.

It hadn’t been instant or easy, but Patch had become the sister she never had. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a lion. Didn’t matter that she preferred hiking boots and jeans—like she was wearing now—to dresses and heels. None of that could touch the bond they’d formed as two lonely cubs who’d promised one another they’d never be alone again.

“You don’t have to marry him, you know.”

If it had been anyone else, Lila would have deflected, turning the conversation back to light topics, but this was Patch.

“I don’t have to. But I will.” She sighed and dropped her empty into the bucket, taking Patch’s as well and handing out the next round. “Do you think that makes me a coward? Because I’m always doing the easy thing, trying to make everyone else happy?”

“Is that always the easy thing?”

It wasn’t. Trust Patch to know that. “I don’t please people because I’m scared to be myself.”

Patch looked at her, the gold of her eyes gleaming a little in the darkness. “You aren’t a coward, Lila. Where’s that coming from?”

Santiago. “It’s nothing. Just something someone said.”

“Well, someone is an ass. It takes a brave woman to sign on to be the Alpha’s mate.”

Lila took another swig of beer. It was darker than she liked, the taste sharper than the fruity ales she preferred, but tonight she liked the bite. She didn’t feel brave. She didn’t know what she felt. Not how a bride was supposed to feel, that was for sure. “I don’t know why I’m not more excited. I get to plan a wedding. And force you to wear a dress loaded with ruffles and flounces.”

Patch ignored her attempt to goad her with bridesmaid dress hell. “You don’t love him.”

“I don’t see how that matters. My parents don’t love each other. It’s never been a problem for them.”

“You aren’t your mother.”

“No. More’s the pity.”

A white fence appeared out of the darkness beside them. The elk enclosure. They’d come farther than she thought.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

No, Patch was her staunchest ally. She would never say what Lila always thought the pride elders were thinking. That Lila didn’t have her mother’s strength. That she didn’t have her poise and intellect and leadership ability. That Lila wasn’t Alpha’s mate material at all. That she was just a girly pleaser who could play the role when it was easy but would buckle under the first real threat.

“I just meant that you’ve always wanted to be in love,” Patch explained. “Ever since we were kids.”

She had. It was almost embarrassing to admit, since she’d known since birth that no fairy tale prince was going to sweep her off her feet. She had a role to play and falling in love wasn’t part of it. “Maybe I’ll fall in love with Roman. He’s very…” She couldn’t think of anything. He was handsome. He was smart. He was strong and powerful. He was everything a lion should be. “He’s a great man.”

He just never looked at her like she was even remotely special. He looked at her like a duty. She supposed there was affection there, but no interest. No passion. No heat. He didn’t look at her like…

Like Santiago looks at me.

Lila squashed the thought. That wasn’t lust. Santiago didn’t even like her. At least Roman felt affection for her. She could build on affection. Maybe she could even fall in love with him—though it was harder to imagine him falling in love with her.

That was it. The icy stone of fear lodged inside her heart. Her husband would never love her. No matter how many people she pleased or how pretty she was or how wonderful he was or how much she learned to adore him, Roman would never see her as worthy of love above all others.

Lila whirled and chucked her empty bottle as hard as she could toward a fence post. It struck dead center, shattering in a magnificent shower of glass. And her brief flash of rage instantly deflated. “Crap. I should clean that up.”

Patch caught her arm when she moved to set down the bucket. “You aren’t cleaning up broken glass at night with your bare hands. We’ll get it in the morning.” She reached up and gently removed a red ribbon from Lila’s hair and went to the fence, her hiking boots crunching in the glass, and tied the ribbon around the post. “There. X marks the spot.”

Patch picked up the bucket, handing her a fresh beer and they walked on, Patch giving her silence for several minutes, until Lila couldn’t take the quiet anymore.

“Sorry,” Lila murmured. “That was juvenile.”

“You’re allowed to be upset. And you know I won’t tell anyone.”

“I shouldn’t be upset,” Lila growled. “I’m just so annoyed with myself that I’m not excited. I’m supposed to be thrilled, damn it. This is what I’ve been waiting for all my life, isn’t it? For years I’ve been complaining that I’m going to be the oldest virgin in the world because none of the other members of the pride will so much as kiss me lest they offend Roman by getting their scent on me. I’m finally going to have someone who is obliged to sleep with me—” Obliged to sleep with me. That didn’t sound so good.

“You could always have gone the human route.”

“And always have to worry about whether or not I’m going to lose control and shift during sex? No, thank you. Just kissing humans is weird enough. They smell so…weird.”

“They don’t smell weird. You’re just a lion elitist. Admit it.”

“Lions smell right,” Lila argued.

Patch tipped her head back, her nostrils flaring. “Speaking of lions smelling right, is that Roman?”

Lila inhaled the wind in her face and the distinctive leonine musk it carried. Shit. Roman was the last person in the world she wanted to see right now. Tipsy and far too honest was not the best way to face the man who was going to be her husband. What the hell was he doing out here?

They couldn’t see or hear him yet, but the scent was strong enough that they should soon. Escape. She had to escape.

The bucket in Patch’s hand looked like salvation.

“Oh, would you look at that, we’re out of beer. What kind of fiancée would I be if I couldn’t offer him one? I’ll run back and grab another bucket.”

“Lila?” Patch wasn’t an idiot. She’d obviously picked up on Lila’s irrational panic at the idea of seeing her husband-to-be. “Do you want me to—?”

“No! No, I’ve got this. We’re good. You guys just, you know, talk or whatever and I’ll be right back with some more brewskies. Lickety split.”

Patch had always been the more athletic of the two of them, but there was one way in which she’d never been able to compete with Lila. The lioness was fast when she wanted to be. And tonight she wanted to be.

Lila ran.

Chapter Four

Maybe she was a coward after all. There really wasn’t any other explanation for the fact that she was fleeing from her fiancé. Lila slowed to a walk, stumbling a little as the alcohol sloshed through her bloodstream. She was almost back to where she’d shattered the beer bottle. She was really having a bang up night. Temper tantrums, running away—

The thought evaporated as she saw the figure standing in the darkness next to the fence post with her hair ribbon tied around it, staring out over the elk enclosure. For a second she was terrified Roman had circled around them and she would have to face him after all, then she realized the form didn’t have the bulk to be the future Alpha. No, this shadow was all sleek strength, dark hair, and the smoky scent of a jaguar teasing her as the wind shifted.

Santiago.

Oh mercy. She wasn’t prepared to deal with him any more than she had been to face Roman with that hops-induced honesty in her bloodstream. But it was either talk to him, turn back and face Roman, or march on past, pretending not to notice him there—which would be just another cowardly, childish move in a night that had already proven her pathetic.

She refused to be a coward in front of him.

Lila marched over to the fence, trying to sway her hips but fairly certain her va-va-voom was more than a little alcohol impaired. “What are you doing here?”

He turned his head, looking at her for the first time, though he had to know who she was the second she came into range. In answer, he lifted his own bottle for her to see—tequila—and she saw he had the end of her hair ribbon curled around his little finger.

“Me too,” she said in response to the alcohol. The world dipped unexpectedly and she reached out to steady herself on the fence, hoping it looked like she had intended to lean against it shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “Patch and I ran out so I’m headed back for a refill.”

“Shouldn’t you be with your fiancé? Celebrating the upcoming nuptials?”

The growly quality in his voice made something warm stir low in her abdomen. She cleared her throat. “He’s out there with Patch.”

“Ah.”

The alcohol honesty chose that moment to rear its ugly head. “You aren’t much of a conversationalist, are you, Santiago Flores?” She wanted to hear more of that rumbly voice.

“You want conversation?” The words sounded like a threat. “Then by all means, let’s converse. Do you really want to marry Roman?”

This conversation again. Joy. Lila sighed, resigned. “It’s doesn’t matter what I want. It’s what I’m going to do.”

“Are you really such a martyr?” That lovely growl was back in his voice.

“It’s not martyrdom.” She was certain it wasn’t. She just couldn’t seem to think past all the alcohol to figure out why precisely.

“So you don’t think you’re giving anything up, is that it?”

That was it. No sacrifice. How helpful he was. “Exactly. What would I be giving up?”

“A thousand opportunities.” He spun to face her, dark eyes flashing in the night, all that contained ferocity suddenly erupting with startling intensity. “The chance to be something more than what others would make you.”

“So I can be what you would make me instead?” She turned to face him head on, throwing her chin back to growl up at him. “Everyone wants me to be their version of what I should be. Even you.”

“Then what do you want? Who do you want to be?”

“I don’t know! Don’t you see? If I wanted something more than this life, maybe I would go after it, maybe I would be brave, by your definition of the word, but I don’t. I never have. So what’s so terrible about what I’m doing? What am I giving up, Santiago Flores? What is supposed to stop me from doing what I’ve always known I would when the time came? What is it you think I’m supposed to want?”

“Me.”

He gripped the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her toward him, his other hand cupping her jaw, tipping her face up to meet him as his lips closed over hers, firm and fierce and demanding and—oh my God, so exquisitely perfect.

She’d been kissed before. Of course she’d been kissed before. In twenty-three years as the pride’s resident flirt, she’d kissed dozens of guys in a sort of playful almost-platonic way that was all the other shifters would dare. She’d even gone a bit further with a few humans who didn’t know Roman to be afraid of him—until her instincts had reared up and put a stop to it.

She knew perfectly well what lips were for, thank you very much. But all those kisses. All those affectionate buses and eager lip locks. They had never been this.

The rest of the world simply melted away until there was only Santiago. He nibbled, sucked, coaxed and teased until she opened for him and his tongue stroked into her mouth, a question she answered with her own, angling her head for more. She’d ceased to exist outside this kiss. There was only his heat, his strength, the pull of his body, and her need. God, her fierce, impossible need for more of him.

She wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling herself against him so their bodies aligned, a gasp escaping her mouth at the feel of all that delicious heat. Her other hand slid up his chest and around to palm the back of his neck, holding him there in case he had any rogue thoughts about pulling away. Away wasn’t allowed. Only closer, harder, deeper and more.

And he was very good at those words.

He deepened the kiss, stroking the hand at her nape slowly down her spine, pressing her even more tightly into his body. He palmed her bottom and jerked her up against him, onto her toes, twisting to pin her to the fence and grind his hips to hers.

She gasped in a breath at the feel of his hardness against her clit and his scent flooded her–Christ, no man should smell so good. Smoke and cinnamon. It was an aphrodisiac all its own. Not that she needed an aphrodisiac. She clenched her thighs together to keep from wrapping them around his waist, wet and wanting.

She’d lost her mind. He tasted of tequila and temptation, dark and spicy and right. She didn’t care that anyone could come walking up and see them. Didn’t care that anyone downwind would know exactly what they were doing. Didn’t care that her best friend and her fiancé—

Lila jerked away, shoving Santiago hard enough that he was three feet away before he caught his balance and growled, rocking instantly back toward her.

“No!”

The word froze him in his tracks. It took a minute, but something human gradually surfaced in his eyes, though he didn’t stop staring at her, watching her as they both breathed too fast. His gaze darted down to her chest, rising and falling rapidly, and she fought the urge to cover herself.

Jesus, what had they been doing? One second they were arguing and the next she’d been ready to crawl on top of him and stay there for a good long while.

She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, trying to get rid of his taste, the branded-into-the-flesh feel of him. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for five goddamn years,” he growled, the cat in his voice.

Lila felt her eyes go round. He had? Five years? That was the entire time he’d been with the pride. He’d wanted her? “Why didn’t you say anything?” When he just looked at her, a strange cousin to anger sliced through her. “Why didn’t you do anything? Why now? Why wait until I have to be with him?”

“You think I could have had you for five years and then let you go to another?”

Lila shivered at the unchecked possessiveness on his face. God, to be wanted like that. To belong to him. “That’s not what I meant. It’s too late now. I can’t—” Things were settled. Didn’t he see that? Why had he waited? She might have been able to talk to her father before. Might have wanted to if she’d only known. “Why didn’t you let me know you wanted me before?”

“Because it wouldn’t have made a difference,” he snarled, raking a hand through his black hair. “Because you flirt with everything that walks, but when push comes to shove you’re the biggest goddamn snob in the pride when it comes to mixing with the non-lions.”

“That isn’t true!”

“No? Then why were you telling Patch she needs to hook up with a mountain lion?”

“Were you spying on me?” She had said as much to Patch, right before the meeting tonight. She’d been trying to distract herself from the upcoming announcement, thinking to play matchmaker between her best friend and some of the new independent male cougars who had recently arrived from the south. But for Santiago to know that… “How did you know about that? Did Patch tell you?”

“You just told me. It was a guess. An educated one based on your prejudice and the fact that there are finally eligible males for Patch in the pride—by your limited definition of eligible.”

“It’s not just my definition,” she defended, hating that he saw her as closed-minded. “The children of cross-species shifter pairings can’t always shift. Don’t you want your children to be able to change?”

“Medical science is advancing all the time. And you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you, princess? I haven’t even asked you out.”

“Don’t call me that.” She’d always hated it. The pride princess. She was more than that, damn it.

His eyes were dark, mocking. “Hey, if the tiara fits…”

“I don’t have to listen to this.” She turned, meaning to shove past him and march right back to the main compound, but his arm shot out, wrapping around her waist and dragging her back against him—exactly where her traitorous body desperately wanted to be. She twisted, struggling in his grip, the cage of his strength making something hot and wild unfurl in her core. “How dare you?”

The growl was back in his voice. “You want me to dare?”

Oh God, yes, please. “I want you to let me go.”

His hands were suddenly off her, his luscious heat gone. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Half of her wanted to run like hell. The other half longed to throw herself back into his arms, knock his feet out from under him and beat him to the ground. But Lila forced herself to do the right thing and walk slowly, deliberately away without a backward glance.

Doing what she was supposed to do had never been so difficult.

Chapter Five

Santiago groaned as he watched the object of his obsession saunter away as if nothing had happened. As if his world hadn’t just shattered and reformed wrong. As if he hadn’t just made the biggest goddamn mistake of his life—the one mistake he would never be able to make himself regret.

He’d kissed Lila Fallon.

And it had been everything he’d been fantasizing for five years it would be. Though the afterglow could use some work.

Shit.

Everything with Lila was complication on top of complication. For him it was simple. Lila Fallon had always been the most beautiful, precious female he’d ever seen. She was kind-hearted to a fault and so giving she was going to allow herself to be eaten up by the needs of the pride, packaged and domesticated until she was no more than the product of her parents’ wishes. So much so that she didn’t even know her own.

He wanted to steal her away. Make her his and live just the two of them, somewhere it didn’t matter that she was the Alpha’s daughter and he was a stray jaguar. But Lila was a lion. She would always need the pride, need that community around her. She wasn’t cut out to be a nomad, even if he could have asked her to walk away from her family.

He didn’t really want her to abandon them. He just wanted her to want him. Even if it was only half as much as he craved her.

There had been moments before tonight, flickers, when he thought he caught something in her eye, some hint that she might have some feeling for him, buried underneath layers of obligation, but they never quite got all the way to the surface. She wouldn’t let herself want. Because then she would never have to be upset by her lack of options. She’d never have to face the fact that her life had never been her own.

But tonight she’d wanted. He hadn’t imagined that. She’d been with him all the way. Just as hungry and eager as his wildest dreams.

He wasn’t sure if that was very good or very, very bad. He couldn’t predict how she would react to letting herself want him—even if it had just been for a few minutes.

She hadn’t immediately thrown Roman over and fallen into his arms. In fact, she seemed to still plan on marrying him.

Santiago clenched his fist around the ribbon that still carried her scent. Could he stay and watch her marry Roman? Watch them raise perfect little lion babies and rule over the pride? Would he be able to swear his loyalty to Roman, who didn’t even seem to know what he had in Lila?

Maybe it would be best if he left now, before it got any harder. He’d liked being part of a pride, but he was still a jaguar, still independent enough to make it on his own. He had enough of a reputation now that he could probably move to another area in the region without losing too many of his client contacts. Idaho, maybe. Or Washington. He’d heard Seattle was beautiful. Jaguars actually liked the water and there wasn’t a lion pride within a hundred miles of the city, so he wouldn’t have to worry about being reminded of Lila all the time.

It was a decent plan. The only problem was, he didn’t want to leave her. He didn’t think he would ever want to leave her. Even if it meant never having her. Watching her with someone else.

Lila Fallon had wedged her way into his soul and until he learned how to get her out, he was stuck.

Santiago took another swallow of tequila, trying to burn the taste of her out of his memory, and wandered off the trail, deeper into the wilds of the pride lands. He would’ve shifted, but right now he needed tequila more than fur.

Lila woke feeling wretched, and she couldn’t even blame it entirely on the alcohol. The hangover really wasn’t that bad, but the remorse, the remorse was eating a hole in her stomach.

She’d left Patch alone with Roman and never gone back, forcing her best friend to make excuses for her. On the night she’d become officially engaged to one man, she’d gone and kissed another. And then had a raging row with the Other Man—though she couldn’t remember what the fight was about. But she recalled every detail of the kiss.

She felt all twisted up inside, like her emotions would only be made straight if she could shift into feline form and run for days—which was so not her. Lila had never been ruled by her cat. She was almost detached from it, it was so contained within her. She enjoyed her cat well enough, but she never needed it. She didn’t really have much of a connection to her animalistic side, having never really keyed into her leonine instincts, but now she felt the restless press of fur against the inside of her skin.

She stripped out of last night’s slept-in clothes and took a quick shower, but the restlessness wasn’t soothed by the pounding water, so instead of drying off, she shifted and shook the water droplets from her fur.

She padded out of her apartment and loped awkwardly down the external stairs. The nearby area was thronging with people, many of them carrying suitcases, bits of furniture, and crates of personal items—the outlying cats moving in already. She wondered where Santiago would stay then shook away the thought. It was none of her concern.

She took the same route as last night, trotting north out of the main area. She easily found the spot where she’d kissed Santiago, but her red ribbon was missing from the post and someone had already cleaned up the broken glass she’d meant to come back for. Farther up the path, she crested a small hill and found a saturation of Patch’s and Roman’s scents. They’d stayed here for a while, waiting for her to come back, no doubt.

Lila ran on, stretching her legs out with a burst of speed. She scented prey to her right, but didn’t turn and belly under the fence. She wasn’t in the mood to hunt alone. Instead she veered left, taking off through the underbrush into one of the many forested areas on the pride lands.

She was forced to slow to navigate the less familiar, uneven path, but she kept her pace just a little faster than caution would recommend. She wished she could say it was helping, that she’d sorted out some of the jumble she’d woken up with, but she was still as tangled up and restless inside as ever.

She must’ve run for an hour, taking a wide loop through the northern pride lands before circling back to the main complex. The activity hadn’t abated. If anything there were more shifters on the paths now, getting settled themselves or helping others move in. Lila threaded around their ankles, careful not to trip anyone as she darted through the crowds.

This was what it was going to be like in the pride now. Crowded, with everyone smelling slightly of tension and fear.

“Lila.”

At the sound of her name, she darted off the side of the path, twisting to see the speaker.

Roman. Standing on the porch of one of the bungalows with a pair of elderly lynx. The older couple waiting patiently as Roman paused his conversation with them to call out to her.

“Come by my office later, if you would. We should talk.”

She bowed her head in assent and leapt back into motion, rushing off. Now the tangled, amorphous nervousness she’d woken up with had a point to focus on.

Roman wanted to talk to her. Roman never wanted to talk to her.

What had she done wrong? Well, obviously she knew what she’d done wrong. She’d made out with Santiago like a cat in heat, but could Roman know that? Sure there were times when it seemed like he was omniscient when it came to the pride, but usually he didn’t pay much heed to who was sucking face with whom. Though it might make a difference if one of the face suckers was his fiancée.

How was she going to face him? What was she going to say? She hadn’t been this nervous the one and only time she’d been called in front of the pride school’s principal. Of course, in that case, she’d known she was in the right. Patch had been being bullied and Lila had gotten in that fight because she needed to. She didn’t have an excuse this time. This time she was fully in the wrong. And somehow Roman knew.

How could he know? Did Santiago tell him? No. Lila was certain the jaguar wouldn’t have done that. Roman had probably just walked past the infamous fence post and smelled the two of them all over it.

She would explain it. Wild oats. Bridal jitters. Alcohol. It was perfectly understandable. Roman was a reasonable mountain of muscle and authority. He would understand. She hoped.

By the time she’d shifted back, showered again and changed into fresh clothes—which necessitated a good hour of primping until her nerves were diminished enough for her to leave the apartment—it was lunch time, so Lila stopped off to grab a couple of sandwiches at the commissary to take to Roman. Maybe if she fed him it would remind him that his fiancée had virtues to counterbalance the tendency to make out with strange jaguars immediately after the announcement of her wedding.

Roman’s office was in the middle of a housing cluster. Since the Alpha’s office was part of the main house, off on its own up on the hill, Roman had decided that the Alpha’s heir and second-in-command should be more accessible to the pride, to give him a chance to get to know his cats on a more casual basis before he became their master.

Lila agreed with the policy, but it meant she was ducking through more crowds as she made her way to the low-slung building that was Roman’s den. She scratched on his door, half-hoping he wouldn’t be in, but his deep baritone promptly called out, “Come in.”

Lila shoved open the door and he looked up from the file on his desk. “Lila. Thank you for coming.”

He was alone. Just the two of them as she let the door fall closed behind her. She should get used to it. When they were married, she was going to have to be alone with him.

“I brought you a sandwich.”

“Thank you. I’m starving.” His gaze flicked to the side, so rapidly she almost didn’t catch it, but when she looked over she saw the remnants of a massive meal piled on the sideboard.

She blushed. “You ate already. I should’ve known—”

“No, this is perfect,” he cut her off, rising and rounding his desk. “I’m always hungry. Something you’ll doubtless need to know about me.” He took the sandwiches from her hands and drew her to the chair beside his desk—not the one opposite, but a small one she’d never noticed positioned next to his throne-like one. “More food is always welcome. Drink?”

He sat in his chair and stretched out one long arm behind him to pop open a mini-fridge, stocked to bursting with Gatorade, bottled water, and, surprisingly, vanilla Coke.

“Water?” She cleared her throat when her voice came out a squeak.

He grabbed them two bottles of water and closed the fridge. Twisting off the tops on both, he set one in front of her and another at his elbow and reached for one of the sandwiches. Lila began slowly unwrapping her own.

“I wanted to talk to you because we haven’t talked in…well, ever. I think it’s past time we get to know each other, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry for ditching you with Patch last night and forgetting to come back,” she said hurriedly, starting with the easiest of the apologies. “I’d had a little too much to drink and—”

“No. No, it’s okay.” Roman was suddenly fascinated with his sandwich. Was he blushing? What would make the big, bad Alpha-in-training blush?

His voice was rough when he began again, “I’d like us to be loyal to one another. Once we’re married. I think it would be best for the pride if there aren’t any perceived cracks in our relationship—”

“Right, of course.” Lila couldn’t agree with him fast enough. She needed him to know that what happened last night with Santiago, however Roman had found out about it, had been a fluke. “I’d like that too. I love loyalty.”

“And I thought perhaps it would be best if we got to know one another a little better.” He sounded so stiff and formal, just as uncomfortable as she was.

“I’d like that. Brilliant idea.” This was just what they needed. To get to know one another. Spend time together. Of course she had jitters about getting married, she didn’t know the man she was supposed to fall in love with, but if they could just talk…

“So.” Roman cleared his throat. “Ah, what kind of movies do you like?”

“Anything with a romance in it. Romantic comedies, romantic tragedies—as long as someone is falling in love, I’m hooked. You?”

“Action, mostly. Especially World War II. Strategy, life and death, honor being tested. What about books? Do you read a lot?”

“I love to read. Romances, again. And you?”

“Non-fiction.”

Lila forced herself to smile and nod. Lots of people had very happy marriages who had nothing in common. Lots of people.

Lila should not have been so relieved when their sandwiches were gone and she could make her escape. She glanced at her watch. Twenty minutes. She’d only been with him for twenty minutes, but they were among the longest twenty minutes of her life. They’d both been trying so hard and it had just been awkward.

Maybe next time would be better. Because there would be a next time. They were on a mission to make this marriage work and neither of them gave up easily. She was more resolved than ever. Roman may not be her soulmate, but he was perfect for the pride—more perfect than she could have imagined—and together they would make this work.

Climbing the external stairs to her apartment, she saw Patch bounding down them two at a time.

“Hey!” Patch leapt down the landing at her side. “I was just about to go looking for you.”

“I was having lunch with Roman.”

Patch’s eyes went wide. “Oh? How was it?”

“Awkward. Excruciatingly awkward. We’re trying to get to know each other. It’s like some bizarre Victorian courting ritual where we only talk about the most inconsequential things. By the end we were actually discussing the weather. Though, on the plus side, I now know that he likes thunderstorms, so there you have it. True love is right around the corner.”

“Come on. You need chocolate therapy.”

Patch grabbed her hand and Lila turned to head back down the stairs she’d just climbed. They didn’t speak until they were settled at a secluded table in the dining hall with a Death By Chocolate brownie and two forks.

Even with the influx of new people, the dining hall was relatively empty at this time of day. The only other shifters crowded around a large table on the opposite side of the room. Patch and Lila were about as private as they could get in pride life.

“Santiago was looking for you.” Patch scooped up a large bite of brownie and Lila nearly choked on her own at the announcement.

“He was?” She tried for an air of innocent confusion. “Did he say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Patch said around another bite. “We mostly talked about this whole calling in the outliers thing. It’s kind of inconvenient timing for me.” When Lila shot her a look of alarm, Patch held up her fork placatingly. “Of course I’m coming in. Set a good example. Pride solidarity.”

“And Dad would kill you if you risked yourself.”

“That too. But honestly I’d rather be anywhere else.” Patch blushed and mumbled something under her breath.

“What?”

Patch grimaced and said in a louder whisper, “My heat is starting.”

“Oh.” Lila blinked. “Oh.”

Unlike cats in the wild, shifter females typically went into heat three times a year. Their hormone levels went insane, turning them into the proverbial cats in heat, and their scent became all but irresistible for shifter males. Different females reacted to the sudden sexual imperative in different ways. Birth control was taken care of with shots, so some women just enjoyed the marathon. Lila’s heats had never been as intense as some other girls she knew, but she still chose to seclude herself during that week, preferring not to run her life by her hormones.

Patch, however, had always taken it a step further. She disappeared. She went off into the wilderness on her own, far away from the temptation of any other shifters, and suffered out the heat in isolation. But if she was forced to stay here, for her own safety…

“Yeah. So not exactly the time of the year when I want to be hanging around a ton of shifter males. In fact…” Patch’s blush deepened until it covered every inch of visible skin. “I kind of—I kissed Roman last night.”

“You what?” Lila must have missed something. Patch couldn’t have said what she thought she just said.

It was like a dam had broken; Patch’s words gushed out. “I kissed Roman. Or he kissed me. I don’t know. There was leaning and then it just sort of happened. I was drunk and with my heat starting soon—it didn’t mean anything. I swear to God, Lila, it was nothing.”

“No, I understand.” She definitely understood. Hadn’t she done the same thing with Santiago, only without the excuse of going into heat? But why hadn’t Roman mentioned it? Was that what had brought on his sudden attack of loyalty this morning? Guilt to match hers?

“It will never happen again. I promise.”

“I’m not mad, Patch. By all means, have at him.”

That cut her friend off mid-apology. “What?”

“It doesn’t count, right? Anything that happens before the wedding—any accidental kissing of other people—that’s just sowing wild oats, right? Just a little pre-wedding fling. Totally normal. No harm done.”

And maybe if he falls in love with you, I won’t have to marry him.

The thought slithered across her brain, leaving a trail of guilt in its wake. Roman would never give up his position as the next Alpha, and no lion pride—no matter how many strays they were willing to take in—would accept an Alpha who mated across the species gap. Even if Roman decided not to marry Lila, he would have to pick a lion. If Patch fell for him, she’d only be setting herself up for heartbreak and Lila would never wish that for her best friend.

“Patch. You’ll be careful, won’t you? Roman can’t—”

“He’d never let himself be permanently attached to a cougar. I know.”

Lila reached across the table and took Patch’s hand, squeezing tight. “He’d be lucky to have you. Any man would. But with him as the Alpha…even if he were willing to overlook all the other obstacles…”

“I know, Lila. It was nothing. And that nothing is never happening again.”

“Good.”

Lila might be able to get away with dating a jaguar, but Roman would lose too much if he tried to take Patch as his mate.

Not that Lila was planning on dating a jaguar. She barely knew anything about him. Certainly not enough to tempt her away from her neatly ordered life. Just that he smelled of smoke and cinnamon and kissed like a man born to sin.

Patch had said he was looking for her and she really should speak to him. Smooth things over from last night. Apologize for blowing up at him, explain that there could be nothing more between them. Perhaps even offer to be friends. Her hormones might want more from him, but if she wanted to be close to him, friends was all she had to offer. He’d just have to accept that.

Lila frowned and reached for another forkful of brownie. She may not know Santiago well, but he didn’t seem like the kind of man who would accept just friends easily.

Chapter Six

Santiago surveyed the studio apartment. It was his for as long as he decided to stay on the pride lands, if he wanted it. But he hadn’t decided yet whether he was staying or running.

It was a nice enough apartment, one of the most recently built. He’d designed the complex himself with more independent non-lions in mind, to maximize the sense of space and seclusion in the individual units. Even if the residents were surrounded by their pride mates on all sides, the views pointed toward the mountains and open land, giving the illusion of privacy.

Not a bad place to spend a few months, or even years. If he decided to stay.

He’d gone looking for Lila earlier, but only managed to run into Patch, who was doing the same. They’d leaned over the railing on the external stair of Lila’s building and watched the frenzy of activity below. Dozens of shifters all moving into the complex at once, plus more arriving from the south every day. A handful of outliers were refusing to be called in, but most had heard enough rumors of disappearances to make them wary of being off on their own. Vulnerable.

Patch was moving back—and none too happy about it—and she’d asked Santiago about his plans. He’d told her he was undecided, which was true enough—though he didn’t tell her the source of his indecision. That was between him and Lila.

Patch had warned him to be careful. Too late for that. He had a feeling he was already in over his head.

“You’re a hard man to track down, Santiago Flores.”

He spun toward the door, already knowing what he would see there. She was the only one who called him by his full name. He was still unprepared for the sight of her.

She wore high-heeled, polka dot sandals, a bright blue patterned sundress that left the long golden length of her legs bare, and a soft white cardigan in a nod to the fall weather that was driving everyone else to wear layers. Her hair was loose and her lips the same rosy pink as her nails. In an environment that prized utility and strength, she was a flower, a walking confection.

“Lila.”

“I heard you were looking for me. And I owe you an apology.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that last night. You just caught me by surprise.”

She was trying to do the pretty. Put them back on proper social footing. Polite and sociable and distant. But he didn’t want to let her get away from him. Not when he’d finally gotten close. He eliminated the space between them with three long strides. “A good surprise, I hope.”

She danced away but not into the hall as she could easily have done. Deeper into the apartment. Not trying to escape him then. “I’ve figured out what I wanted,” she said hurriedly, moving in a constant, evasive circle as he stalked her. “You kept asking me what it was I wanted and I’ve got it. I know now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’d like us to be friends.”

Santiago stopped moving. “Friends.”

Lila halted as well. “Yes. I’d like that.”

She was insane. They could never be just friends. He wanted her like an ache in his soul. That wasn’t friendship. She was his personal madness, his obsession. That wasn’t friendship. The subtle perfume of her skin made him want to mark her as his, to brand her with his scent until no other man would dream of trespassing where he alone could go. That wasn’t friendship, damn it.

But when he looked into her eyes he saw hope and vulnerability and just a flicker of fear. What was she afraid of? Him? Afraid of her feelings for him? Afraid of ending up with Roman? What? It could be anything. But he couldn’t see that look in her eyes without wanting to banish it forever. He would protect her. Until she was ready for him to love her, he would do as she asked.

They would be friends.

“All right. What exactly does being friends entail?”

Lila beamed, visibly relieved. “Well, I thought for starters we should get to know each other. Um, what sort of movies do you like?”

“You want to know what kind of movies I like?”

She blinked, considered it and then gave a light laugh. “You know, honestly, it doesn’t matter what kind of movies you like. Why do people ask that question as if it’s important?”

Now that she’d asked, he wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about her. “What kind of movies do you like, princess?”

“I don’t like being called that.”

“What do you like being called?”

“I like the way you say my name.” Then she blushed, looking at everything in the apartment but him. “Is this where you live?”

He jerked his head to the west. “A few miles off pride lands usually, but with things the way they are I’m considering staying here. Do you like it?”

“It’s nice. You haven’t done much to personalize it.”

“I haven’t moved in yet.”

“Of course.” She looked at him then, but couldn’t seem to hold his gaze.

“What is it you want to ask me, Lila?” He loved the little shiver she gave when he said her name. “You know I would tell you anything.”

“What do you do? For a living, I mean. I don’t see you often around here.”

“Architect. I designed this building actually, though mostly I do luxury vacation homes. Do you want to see?”

“I’d love to,” she said instantly, then caught herself. “Are they off the pride lands?”

“Not far off. I’d have you back before dark.” He moved closer and this time she didn’t retreat.

“I wouldn’t be setting a very good example, leaving the pride lands right when my father has asked everyone to close ranks.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.” He smiled his most persuasive smile. “Unless you aren’t interested in seeing an entire house perched in a tree.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously? A tree house? I didn’t imagine you capable of anything so fanciful.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re getting to know each other better.” He didn’t tell her she had inspired it. Her laughter. The way she lured him into wanting to play.

“All right,” she said with a laugh. “Take me quick before I change my mind.”

Ten minutes later they were in his Land Rover headed toward the western boundary gate and Santiago found himself with a fierce satisfaction at having her beside him in his space. In his car, driving out to his house, with the woman who would be his if the fates didn’t hate him.

She rolled down the window and put her arm out, one hand surfing the wind as he drove. “I almost never leave the pride lands,” she commented idly, her head tipped back against the headrest, relaxed.

Some sort of bubble had popped between them and the usual humming tension he felt around her had eased into something light and easy. Right now it was enough just to be with her and she seemed to feel the same way.

“Never?”

“Well, I obviously leave now and then. I’m not trapped or anything. I used to go out all the time when I commuted to a human university.”

“What did you study?” He waved to the guards as they passed through the first boundary checkpoint. If they stared when they saw who his passenger was, Santiago decided to ignore it.

“Business administration with a sociology minor. Near as I could get to majoring in how to be an Alpha’s mate.”

“And if you could have taken anything? What would you have studied then?”

She shrugged, her eyes on the hand riding the wind currents. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. In a way it’s easy, having a plan laid out for you. I never had to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. It was a yes or no question, rather than a million options all tripping over one another. Less confusion that way, I guess.”

“And what does the future Alpha’s mate do all day?” Everyone contributed in the pride, even the outliers, some financially from outside work, but most within the pride itself through whatever their talents were.

“I don’t really have an official job.” Lila reeled her hand in from the open window as they approached the outer boundary.

It was a nondescript twelve-foot fence with standard No Trespassing signs and an automated gate. Lila leaned across the middle console to type the pass code into the remote on his dash. The gates slid back silently and closed again as soon as he drove through.

“I’m not allowed to do anything that would interfere with my duties once Roman and I take over, so I can’t take any sort of permanent position because I’ll eventually have to give it up. In theory that will be years from now, when my parents are ready to step down, but in case of catastrophe it’s better if I keep myself available. So for now I pretty much just dabble. Helping out with this and that. I do a lot of work in the nursery and preschool programs. They can always use an extra pair of hands.”

To Santiago that sounded a lot like her family trying to prevent her from discovering other interests that might prevent her from following the path they’d laid out for her, but he’d learned his lesson about challenging her ordained life the night before. So instead of complaining about the high-handedness, he simply asked, “Do you like working with kids then?”

“Most days I do. Then there are the days when it seems like it’s all vomit and tantrums and breaking up fights. Still, it’s amazing seeing how quickly they learn—and how different they all are right from the start. All that potential and we get to watch and see where it goes.”

He bit his lip rather than commenting on the fact that she envied the children the possibilities she’d never had.

“You didn’t have a pride structure where you grew up, did you?” Lila asked. “What was it like in California?”

“Quieter. Though most people who grew up in LA probably wouldn’t characterize it as a quiet city. It was just my mother and me—not unusual for jaguars.”

“What was she like, your mom?”

Santiago turned onto the narrow dirt road that led through his forest to his house. It was barely wide enough for the Land Rover and a branch reached through the window and caught Lila’s hair, making her laugh and roll up the window.

“This is all my land now, so I can’t blame the state for not maintaining my road.”

She smiled but wasn’t deflected. “Your mom?”

“She taught me a lot. Made me strong and independent and resourceful. I don’t think you could ever call her maternal, but I wouldn’t be the man I am today without her.”

“And now?” She leaned against the window, facing him. “Are you still close?”

“I get a phone call from her about twice a year.” At Lila’s horrified look, he gave a low laugh. “It’s different for us. We aren’t lions. We don’t have your obsession with community.”

“How did you cope, being a shifter in a city, all on your own?”

“I didn’t shift much. Though the occasional run across the rooftops was part of my teenage rebellion. We’d drive out into the country—weekend camping trips, we called them, but if anyone looked in the cars they would see we didn’t even bring tents. All fur all weekend. And then it was back to concrete and keeping it contained. Our little secret. It was isolating, I suppose, but it was all I knew. My version of normal.”

“And now? Do you like living in a pride?”

“More than I thought I would.” He grinned, remembering how crazy he’d thought Mateo was when he moved up here to join. Now… “It’s grown on me. Though sometimes all the togetherness makes me nuts.”

Lila grimaced. “Patch says the same thing.”

“I probably got it from her. I’ve heard her say it often enough.”

“I forgot. You and Patch are close, aren’t you?” The slightest edge of ice coated her words.

He slowed the car before the curve that would bring the house into view, looking across the cab at the sulky lioness in the passenger seat. “Lila Fallon, are you jealous of my friendship with Patch?”

“Of course not.” She sniffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You are.” A grin split his face. “I had no idea you’d have a possessive streak.”

“I’m not possess—” She broke off, gasping as they rounded the bend and she looked up. “Oh my God.”

His smile widened, pride exploding in his chest. “You approve?”

“This place. Santiago, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You’re not likely to. I designed and built the whole thing from scratch.”

“You said tree house.” She bent to peer up through the windshield as he parked the Land Rover and cut the engine. “I was picturing, I don’t know, a rickety old cabin in a tree. This is…”

She trailed off and he grinned at her speechlessness, hopping out of the car and rounding the hood to open her door while she continued to gawk. The cat inside him strutted and purred as she stroked his pride. This place was his masterpiece. Having her here, in this place he’d built with his own hands, pulling it out of his imagination… There were no words.

Built around four tall, sturdy giant cedars, the house started at the ground and twisted up into the sky in sections, each level like another step in a giant spiral staircase, climbing up toward the heavens.

He helped her out of the car and her eyes immediately went to the scratches around the front door—a predator marking his territory. Lila frowned and stepped away from him, inhaling deeply.

“Cinnamon and smoke,” she murmured and her eyes widened as she turned back to him. “This is your place, isn’t it? Not just one you designed. You live here.”

“Come see the inside.”

She slipped her hand into his and let him tug her toward the door, smiling bemusedly. “Santiago Flores, I think you must be a closet romantic to live here.”

He shrugged. “I was inspired.”

By her. Though he knew he couldn’t tell her that without sending her running back to the pride. He’d never have bothered with something this magnificent for himself if he hadn’t been constantly picturing this moment, imagining bringing her here.

He led her up to the first level of the spiral, up only a couple of short wide steps from the ground—steps that would be easy for a jaguar or a lion to leap. Every inch of the house had been designed with both man and cat in mind.

The interior didn’t try to be overly rustic. The floors were hardwood and he’d left the ceiling beams exposed, but it could have been a living room anywhere—until you looked out the windows. Santiago watched her face, trying to read her reaction. Did she like it? He’d scattered rugs around in an attempt to warm the place up and kept the furniture sparse to give his cat room to roam. A stone fireplace formed the center spike of the spiral, as far away from the four foundation trees as possible to ward against fires.

Could Lila see herself in front of that fire? Was she envisioning the little touches she would put on the place to make it her own?

He guided her through the house, each level a new room—the entry/living room opening up a few short steps into the kitchen and dining area. Above that was the office and library, where he spent most of his time. His desk faced a small balcony with glass sliding doors giving a view of the forest. The house wasn’t truly suspended in the trees, but from here, it felt like it.

Every other wall in the room contained floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, though barely half of them were full.

Lila ran a finger along one empty shelf. “You need more books.”

“I figured my mate would have some.” He’d often seen Lila curled up with a book around the pride. “Easier to put the shelves in initially than add them later.”

At his mention of a mate, her head turned sharply toward him and her eyes narrowed. “I bet the girls you bring here just eat that line up.”

He’d never brought a woman here. Except Patch, and she was a friend, not a potential mate. In his head, this was Lila’s house and it would have been a betrayal to bring some other woman here. But he couldn’t tell her that. He appreciated the jealousy flashing in her eyes, but the wariness was still there. She was keeping him at arm’s length, not yet ready to hear that all this was for her.

“Jealous?” he asked softly.

She lifted her chin regally and ignored the taunt. “What’s up there?”

He grinned with undisguised anticipation. “Come on.” He took her hand again and led her up the steps to the master suite.

He watched her, wanting to catch her reaction when she saw the wall of windows that gave the illusion they were truly perched in the trees, but Lila’s gaze snagged on the giant four-poster bed and refused to budge. Her scent grew stronger and, with the bed so close, he had to remind himself that this was about forever, not just short-term gratification.

She cleared her throat, her face flaming, not meeting his eyes. “Is there another level?”

So scared to want him, his cowardly little lioness. If he pushed her now, he would push her away, so Santiago drew her up past the next level—a sitting room that could easily be turned into a nursery should the need arise—and out the door to the last two stories, a spiraling deck open to the sky.

She immediately slipped her hand free of his and crossed to the railing, gasping as she looked out over the magnificent view. He didn’t mind the loss of her touch, even the most possessive aspect of his cat satisfied by just having her here, in his space, admiring his work.

He leaned a hip against the railing at her side and breathed in her scent mixing with his, fighting the urge to purr.

“When you said you designed vacation homes, I had no idea you meant a place like this.”

“I started out more traditionally,” he admitted. “I liked to make them fit their settings, but I’d never done anything on this scale until a couple years ago. One of my favorite clients asked me if I’d be willing to design a playhouse for her daughter. Something magical. I agreed, just for the hell of it, and wound up enjoying the project so much I designed several options for her. I think that seven-year-old was my most demanding client ever. She ended up picking the princess castle, complete with a tower for her to be imprisoned by imaginary witches.”

“And wait for Prince Charming.”

“No doubt. Long story short, I used a photo of the castle in some advertising and more of my clients began asking for getaways with a more fantastical twist. When I decided to build my own, this was what I came up with.”

“Look at you, city boy. Who knew you had this in you? You always seemed so serious.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. I just didn’t know you had a playful side.”

He hadn’t, until he met her. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

Lila looked away, then shifted away from him, wandering across to explore the next level of the deck. “I don’t know.”

He trailed after her, but let her have her space. “It was five years ago. In the summer. You were playing football and you were a couple short so you talked Mateo and me into joining, do you remember?”

“Nope, sorry.” But still she didn’t meet his eyes.

“I think you taught me how to play that day,” Santiago went on, prowling up behind her on the deck. “Unlocked it in me.”

“Good,” she said with artificial cheer. “We all need a little more fun in our lives.”

He put his back to the railing beside her, close enough to feel the heat of her body and breathe in the scent of her, though he still didn’t touch her. “What about you, Lila? Is your life full of fun?”

“Of course.” But she didn’t look at him, casting her gaze out over the forest.

He knew he should give her space, respect her desire to be just friends, her fear of anything more, but having her here, in his home, her scent tangling with his, it made him want to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. If he didn’t touch her he would go mad. Santiago coiled a lock of her hair around his finger. “What do you say, Lila Fallon? Do I know you well enough to be allowed to kiss you again? It could be fun.”

“Please, don’t.” She twisted away, putting the width of the deck between them. “I’m marrying Roman.”

Irritation surged through him. “Why?”

“Excuse me?”

He prowled after her, the cat pushing against the inside of his skin. “Just answer me that. Tell me why you’re marrying him and I won’t bother you again.”

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep that bargain, but it didn’t matter anyway. She was shaking her head, backing away from him. “I don’t have to answer that.” She escaped to the lower deck, turning and darting toward the door.

“No, you don’t.” It was instinct more than thought that had him surging up behind her, reaching past her shoulder to slap both palms on the door, caging her between him and the wood. She went still, the hot, sweet scent of her killing him breath by breath. She didn’t love Roman. Santiago knew that with every beat of his heart. The idea of letting her go back to him made his every animal instinct revolt. “I have one last question for you before you go running back to him. Not for me, this answer is for you alone.”

She turned her head and met his gaze from a distance of inches, tipping her chin back defiantly. “Yes?”

“Are you happy? With him, with this life you say is all you want? Are. You. Happy?”

Anger flashed in her eyes, bright and hot. “It isn’t your job to fix me.”

“No,” he agreed. “But it breaks my heart to think of you broken.”

“Why? What’s so freaking special about me?”

“Everything.” He didn’t know why but Lila had unlocked something in him, supernovas of emotion. He cupped her jaw. “Don’t you see that? You’re like the only star burning in the solar system, lighting up everything around you, making everything you touch come alive. The moon, the planets—none of them would have any light or color without you.”

She sucked in a ragged gasp. Something melted in her eyes and for a second he thought she would lean into him, that she would take what he was offering, that this would be the moment when Lila Fallon was finally, irrevocably his.

But then a shadow fell across her gaze and her eyelashes flicked down.

“That isn’t me,” she whispered. “You built this whole fantasy around a girl you played football with five years ago. I could have been anyone.”

“Bullshit. It’s you, Lila. Do you think I don’t know the difference? I did everything I could to try to make myself stop wanting you.”

She looked up, meeting his eyes again. “Try harder.”

The finality of the words echoed through him. Failure tasted vile, bitter and sour.

The gates he’d opened for her, the ones behind which he usually hid all that teeming emotion, snapped closed, layers of steel veiling his eyes. He stepped back, dropping his hands from her, his jaw working. “We should get you back. They’ll be missing you.”

She nodded, not meeting his eyes, and darted inside, running away. Always running away from anything she might want.

He couldn’t stay, he realized. Not if she picked Roman. He just wouldn’t be able to do it. He’d sell the house. There was no point in it without her. He’d leave, and he wouldn’t look back. It would be his only hope of staying sane, if sanity hadn’t abandoned him long ago. The second he saw Lila Fallon.

He tracked her scent through the house and out the front door, locking it behind him. She stood beside the Land Rover, her back to him, staring at the ground, everything in her posture rejecting him, rejecting this place.

He could talk until he was blue in the face, but she wouldn’t hear him. She would always pick duty. And he would have to go.

Chapter Seven

Lila was stalking her best friend.

She hadn’t seen Patch in almost a week—which made sense if she was going through her heat. She was probably hiding out as much as possible, but Lila had been patient and given her space for as long as she could manage. She needed advice. Someone to screw her head on straight because she was quietly losing her mind.

For the last week she’d played the part of good little fiancée, meeting up with Roman for regular “dates” which still hadn’t progressed beyond the excruciatingly awkward stage.

Her mother was determined to begin wedding preparations and though Lila had managed to come up with excuses to postpone each of her mother’s many attempts to take her wedding dress shopping, she hadn’t been able to avoid the repeated lectures on responsibility and duty and the overwhelming importance of pride stability during times of crisis.

The pride depended on the solidarity of its primary couple. The pride depended on tradition in times of uncertainty. The pride depended on her.

So she’d avoided Santiago like the plague, taking long indirect routes through the main compound so she didn’t have to be anywhere near the apartment complex where he was staying.

Her just friends plan had backfired. She couldn’t see him now without thinking of a dozen questions she didn’t want to answer, about his amazing home, how it had been saturated in his scent and she’d just wanted to stay there and wallow in it for the rest of her life—and about the kiss that refused to leave the back of her mind, rising up at the most inconvenient moments to taunt her.

And then, perversely, she’d find herself annoyed that she was able to avoid him. That he hadn’t tracked her down for another attempt. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Some distance? For him to stop pushing? So why was she so disappointed when he let her stay away? Why did she constantly find herself fantasizing about him cornering her, sweeping her up and changing her mind with a kiss? She couldn’t have him. So why did she still want him to want her even as she dodged him?

She was a mess. And Patch, the one person she wanted to see, hadn’t been anywhere to be found. She wouldn’t even take Lila’s calls.

So Lila was tracking her.

She prowled through the main compound, visiting all Patch’s old haunts, but the cougar was nowhere to be seen, the buildings crowded with the pride’s bulging population. It wasn’t until Lila started north on the same path she and Patch had taken after the All Pride meeting that she caught the first hint of a scent trail. She followed it, her steps moving faster as it grew stronger until she was jogging as it veered into the forest.

She found Patch up in a tree, her sleek cougar form draped over a sturdy branch. Her tail twitched, but she made no move to come down, not even opening her eyes at Lila’s approach.

Lila had never been much of a climber, and even if she had been, she needed to talk, which they couldn’t do if she shifted and climbed up there after Patch. So she stood below and tipped her head up.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she accused lightly. “I realize you probably want to get away from all the activity at the pride, and I know I’m a high maintenance pain in the ass, but you’re stuck with me so you might as well come down and talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

The cougar opened her eyes at that, blinking sleepily, but still not moving.

“Patch? You okay?” Lila called up.

Patch shifted at that, reaching behind her to where she’d tucked her clothes into a crook of the tree. Lila brushed off a fallen log and perched on it as Patch dressed and dropped out of the tree to land nimbly at her side. “I thought you and Roman had a date this afternoon.”

“He cancelled,” Lila said. She shouldn’t have been relieved when she didn’t have to spend an hour with her fiancé, but she had been. “Seemed like the perfect opportunity to track you down. I’ve missed you, Patricia Marie.”

Patch sighed heavily. “Lila, we should talk.”

“My thoughts exactly. You look exhausted. Your heat wearing you out?” Lila knew from experience that the shots to prevent conception did nothing to control the cravings. The hormones could make it impossible to sleep, the restlessness clawing through her body all night.

“You could say that.” Patch sat on the ground at Lila’s feet. “Lila, about Roman… I know you said I could have at him, but would you hate me if I…if we…”

Lila blinked, startled. “Are you guys hooking up?” Roman hadn’t said a word. Though they weren’t exactly on comfortable speaking terms.

Patch blushed.

“Is it serious?” She felt another surge of relief-guilt at the idea that she might not have to marry Roman after all.

“No. It’s just a fling. Sowing wild oats, like you said.” Patch groaned and flopped onto the ground. “This officially makes me the worst friend ever, doesn’t it? I’m getting it on with your fiancé. That is so wrong.”

“If it were a normal marriage, I’m sure I’d claw your eyes out, but you know how it is.” She studied Patch. Did her best friend have feelings for Roman? Was it more than just a fling? “Are you going to be okay with it if I go ahead with the wedding?”

Patch’s head snapped up at that. “If?”

“Santiago asked me why I was marrying Roman and I didn’t know. It’s one of those questions I’ve never really let myself think about. Because it’s what I’ve always expected I would do. But I can’t seem to figure out if it’s what I want to do anymore. For the good of the pride, I guess.” Lila drew a circle in the dirt with one toe. “Do you think it really makes a difference to the pride if I marry Roman?”

Patch was silent for a long moment. Lila wanted her to say no. To say there would be no consequences if she just ran off and did whatever the hell she wanted with no thought to the pride, for a change. Really, would the pride fall apart if she and Roman didn’t get married?

“I don’t know,” Patch finally answered, the words pulled from her slowly. “People are worried. The question of whether we might come out to the humans, the risk of being abducted by fucking scientists—it makes the traditions more important. The Alpha needs a lioness mate, and if you and Roman are already in place as the logical successors, that means no power void if anything happens to your father. Which means no dominance challenges and fighting within the pride. No factions. No bloodshed.”

“But if I walk away…”

“It throws Roman’s position as successor into question. Someone might challenge him when your father steps down. Or see it as a weakness in the power structure and challenge your father for dominance right away. He’s strong, but he’s not as young as he once was. There are a lot of new nomads coming in. Some of them are lions who might be ambitious enough to think they can take over the pride.”

“So not total Armageddon, just the chance that some strange lion might try to assassinate my father. Right.” Sometimes it sucked that Patch was always honest with her. She really would have liked a lie.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.” Lila tipped her face up and looked at the pine boughs overlapping above her. The view reminded her of Santiago’s house. “Are you happy, Patch?”

“What?”

“Are you happy? Santiago asked me that and I just went blank. I feel like I used to be happy. We had fun, didn’t we? Before everything was about mates and alliances and the good of the pride.”

“Yeah, we always had fun.”

“My life isn’t full of fun anymore. Maybe it’s unreasonable to expect that it would be. Like when you grow up, that’s it, the fun’s over. But is that how it has to be? I feel like my life has been nothing but waiting for the last year. The perpetual holding pattern. And no one to blame but myself. I chose this. I’m the one who sits around in suspended animation, waiting for my life to begin rather than going out and getting it. Rather than looking at what I really want.”

“It’s starting now,” Patch said. “You’re getting married.”

I don’t want to get married. She couldn’t make herself say it out loud. “Yeah.”

Lila came down off the log and stretched out beside Patch on the ground, not caring if it ruined her dress. Side by side, they stared up at the canopy in silence, shoulders brushing.

“I lied to Santiago,” Lila admitted softly. “I don’t even know why I did it.” Because it felt safer, probably, hiding the truth.

“What did you lie about?” Patch asked.

“He asked me if I remembered the day we met and I said no.”

Patch turned her head, frowning. “That must have been years ago.”

“It was. We were playing football and I made him and Mateo join us. Remember?”

“Not really, but it sounds like something you would do.”

Lila remembered that day with crystalline clarity. How she’d been aware of his gaze the second it had touched her. How she’d played harder and laughed louder with him watching. How she’d used the flimsy excuse of two shifters leaving their make-shift game to cajole him into joining them. The way his eyes had laughed into hers across the line of scrimmage even though his mouth had stayed serious. And that moment, that unforgettable moment when he’d lifted her off her feet and taken them both to the ground and suddenly it hadn’t been play anymore.

In that instant she’d felt the weight of something else, his intent, no longer playful, a line no one else had ever dared cross with her being breached. With him, for the first time, flirtation hadn’t been a game. It had been foreplay.

And that scared the shit out of her. Because she couldn’t let herself want him. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

“Silly thing to lie about,” she mumbled.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Patch said idly. “He’ll be gone soon anyway.”

Lila’s head snapped to the side. “What did you say?”

“Santiago. He’s relocating to Seattle. Didn’t he mention it?”

No. That couldn’t be right. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t stir her up and twist her in knots and then just vanish. “You must have heard him wrong.”

“Maybe.” But Patch didn’t sound like she thought that was likely.

Lila’s thoughts reeled.

He’d kissed her. He’d said he wanted to kiss her again. He wouldn’t just up and leave after that. Though what had she done? She’d rejected him. She’d told him to stop. Told him she was marrying Roman. Avoided him. Run like hell. Why should he stay?

But when she thought about the pride without Santiago, when she considered never seeing him again, that she might never look up and see him across the dining hall or on the other side of the compound, his eyes smoldering into hers, when she thought he might just walk away—no. It was wrong. He belonged here. Lone Pine wasn’t right without him.

“I have to go.”

She scrambled to her feet, barely aware of Patch’s soft “Lila?” behind her, already running down the path back toward the main compound.

How dare he leave without even telling her? Sure, she hadn’t exactly made it easy for him to tell her in the last week when she’d been hiding from him, but she’d needed time to think things through. Time, damn it. Was that so much to ask for? He was asking her to rock her entire world to be with him and at the first sign of adversity he just up and moves to Seattle?

No. Hell no. That wasn’t how this was going to play out.

She dodged other shifters, tossing half-hearted waves to those who called out to her, and raced up the stairs to the apartment where she’d found him last time, but when she knocked no one answered. Gone already? No—his scent was all but nonexistent. If he’d been living here, she should have been able to tell.

He hadn’t moved into the pride after all. Still out at his tree house, alone and unprotected. Reckless bastard.

Lila pulled out her cell phone.

Patch didn’t bother with hello. “Are you okay? When you ran off like that—”

“I need to borrow your car.”

“Lila…” The pause sounded like a no. “We aren’t supposed to be straying far from the pride right now—”

Which was why she hadn’t asked for one of the pride vehicles. Lila didn’t have her own car, but she was going to see Santiago. One way or another. “Either I borrow your car or I walk.”

Patch must have heard the stony determination in her voice. “I’ll meet you at the garage with the keys.”

Chapter Eight

Patch’s old Subaru bounced over the narrow track to Santiago’s house as Lila pushed the accelerator to the floor.

He had to still be there. He couldn’t just jolt her awake with a kiss, shake her up with unanswerable questions and walk away while she was still reeling. Unless this had all been a game to him. Toy with the Alpha’s little princess before strutting off into the sunset.

No. This was more than that. Even if Lila couldn’t trust her own instincts where he was concerned, Patch liked him.

The Land Rover was still in the driveway. Lila’s heart gave a hard thump of relief at the sight. He hadn’t left already.

The car skidded to a halt, throwing gravel, and Lila launched herself from the vehicle, the slamming car door announcing her presence. She knocked on his door, knuckles rapping the wood in a steady, unending staccato until it was jerked from beneath her hand, revealing Santiago—tall, dark, glowery Santiago.

“You’re moving to Seattle?” The words were more accusation than question.

“Not today.” He stepped back to make room for her to enter.

Lila stalked past him into the living room. “But you’re leaving. Just up and running away. Were you ever going to tell me? Or just slink off into the night?”

“I didn’t think I needed to say it. You can’t honestly have thought I would stay here and watch you marry Roman.”

She didn’t know what she’d thought. It was one of the things she’d been trying not to think about. Because when she looked at them head on, she was forced to admit the truth. Her shoulders slumped and she turned to face the fireplace, gripping the mantle. “I don’t want to marry Roman,” she whispered.

It was the first time she’d spoken the words aloud and it felt like the world cracked open, the earth suddenly jagged and unstable beneath her feet.

“What?” The door clicked closed, Santiago shutting them in, but Lila didn’t turn. Even from across the room, she knew he’d heard. His hearing was shifter-keen.

“I’m scared of marrying Roman,” she said, a little louder. She felt her face heating from the shame of her admission. “All my life I’ve known it would happen. I’ve been preparing for this, but I can’t help being terrified that I’m going to be the worst Alpha’s mate ever. I don’t like being in charge. I want to help people and make them feel at home here, but I don’t want to be the boss. That isn’t me. I’m going to be such a train wreck. Let everyone down. I’ve never wanted that life. I don’t want to be the Alpha’s mate.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“Don’t I?” She turned then, resting her back against the mantle. He was still safely on the other side of the room, and she studied him, truly seeing him for the first time since bursting in here.

The sleeves of his button down shirt were rolled up to the elbow, the deep green color making the rich brown of his eyes jump out in contrast. His black hair was disarranged, as if he’d been raking his hands through it all morning. The sight of him, tall and strong, and looking at her like she was his entire world, hit her low in the stomach as he moved to stand at the farthest point of the room from her—either to give her space or in the feline’s patient stalk, she wasn’t sure which.

“You could run away with me.” His voice was low and dark, everything seductive.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” He took another step, still circling rather than approaching.

Lila swallowed down a flood of helplessness. How to make him understand how trapped she suddenly felt, when she’d never let herself feel hemmed in like this before? “This is still my home. I owe them…”

“What?” he challenged, though the word was surprisingly soft. Tempting. “Your life? Your happiness? Your soul?”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” Was it really so bad, what was being asked of her?

“Come away with me,” he said again, the words a sultry invitation. He circled again, closer this time. “Not forever. Just long enough to clear your head. Get away from the pride telling you what to do and figure out what you want for a change. Give us a chance to figure out if this is real.”

This. The other big thing she’d been ignoring. The way she wanted him. The way he seemed to want her. Lila closed her eyes and shook her head.

Why had she come here? To stop him from leaving? She should have let him go. She couldn’t have him, so why was she torturing them both like this? Let him leave. It was probably for the best. Then she wouldn’t ache like this anymore. She wouldn’t feel this sense that she was missing out by doing what she had to do.

“Lila.”

His voice was so close she jumped, her eyes snapping open. He was right there, his gorgeous face inches above hers, his hands lifting to cup her jaw.

“What do you really want?” he whispered, and then he kissed her.

It was everything she remembered and more. Heat and aching sweetness. Need in every caress. Her blood fired like lava pulsing through her veins. This was why she’d come. She’d needed this. Needed him.

His hands dropped from her face to grasp her shoulders, lifting her to her toes as he took the kiss deeper, his tongue stroking deliciously into her mouth. She gripped his shirt, loving the feel of his pecs against her fists and needing him for balance as the rest of the world tilted and slid away, and his large, capable hands roamed down her back and over the curve of her hips.

His mouth wandered, over her jaw, along her throat, finding her pulse point, his teeth scraping just hard enough to draw a gasp from her.

They had to stop. If they didn’t stop now she wouldn’t be able to. She wouldn’t want to. I already don’t want to.

“Santiago.” Lila pushed him away, but her hands stayed fisted in his shirt so he couldn’t go far. Everything was swirling, twisting and tangling in her head. Too many things she’d denied for too long crashing against one another.

“I lied,” she whispered, her voice surprisingly rough. “I remember everything about the day we met. No one had ever looked at me the way you looked at me, like I was yours and I just didn’t know it yet. It scared me. Because I knew I could want you, because I knew if I let myself want you I would never be able to stop and I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t free. I’m still not free. I belong to the pride. To Rom—”

He cut her off with a hard, brief kiss. “You belong to me,” he growled and those words curled her toes and made her breath come short. He fisted his hand in the hair at her nape and hauled her back against him with a hard arm banded across her back.

His possessiveness called to something deep inside her, an animal side that had always been ignored. Mine, she wanted to growl right back. This gorgeous man with his sinful good looks and fierce, untamable independence was hers and no one else’s. She gripped his shoulders, her claws snicking out to test his flesh and Santiago rumbled a deep throaty purr that vibrated through them both.

He broke off the kiss, breathing hard, eyes blazing a wild gold. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“Yours. Always.” No matter what else happened, no matter who she had to become when she went back to the real world, she would always be his. Lila pulled him back down to her mouth, biting his lower lip with a hard possessive nip. Mine.

Santiago’s answering growl wasn’t remotely human. He jerked her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She would take this moment, take this night and brand him into her soul. If it was all they could ever have, she’d make it count.

She clung to him as he took the stairs to the master suite, carrying her weight easily, his muscles flexing firm and tight beneath the tips of her claws. She bit his shoulder where it met his neck, her lioness rubbing against the inside of her skin. Normally the feline side of her was quiet when she was in human form, but Santiago called to the animal in her, waking her cat and making it purr with his touch.

He dropped her onto the bed and came down above her, caging her with his arms. “No second thoughts.” It was a demand more than a question, but she answered anyway.

“Never.” She wouldn’t regret this.

She sank her fingers knuckle deep into his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers, devouring his lips in a long, hungry kiss. He nudged her legs apart to settle between them and one hand stroked up the bare length of her leg.

“These fucking little skirts,” he groaned against her lips. “You’ve been driving me mad with them for years. Every time I see you in another pretty, frilly little skirt I want to bend you over and flip it up and drive myself into you until you can’t remember your name.” His hand snuck beneath the fabric, long fingers hooking over the narrow waistband of her bikini panties and dragging them down an inch.

The image of him doing just that slammed into her brain and Lila shuddered deliciously. But instead of putting action to his words, he released her panties and stroked his hand back down her thigh, his fingertips brushing the underside of her knee, bending it up as he continued over her calf until his hand closed over her ankle. Her shoes today were strappy sandals, buckled over her ankle. Santiago deftly released one and slipped it off her foot, like Cinderella in reverse, before flicking it over his shoulder to thud against the wall and disappear.

“Fancy little shoes,” he rumbled, the words rough against the shell of her ear as his other hand repeated the upward path of the first. “Frilly little outfits.” He jerked her panties down an inch beneath her skirt on the other side and Lila lifted her hips to help him take them farther, but he didn’t take the bait, his fingers releasing and tracing down again, bending her knee, grasping her ankle. “You know what they do to men, don’t you? You know how they make us want to strip you of all your little decorations until every inch of you is bare.”

Her second shoe sailed over his shoulder. He placed her foot on the mattress next to his hip, her knees bracketing his waist.

“So what are you waiting for?” She braced her feet and rocked up against him, inviting him in with arms and eyes.

His grin was fierce as he bent to nip her ear. “Patience, reina mia. The prettiest packages take the longest to unwrap.”

“I never could wait to see what was inside,” Lila purred. “I love how this shirt brings out your eyes.” She flashed her claws. “If you don’t want me to shred it, you might want to get it out of my way.”

He laughed and reared back to strip it off, revealing a gorgeous stretch of golden muscle with an enticing trail of hair disappearing into his jeans. She ran her hands over his pecs then traced that trail down to unbutton his jeans. He groaned and pulled her hands away, caging them on either side of her head. “I thought we were being patient.”

She growled and pushed against his hands, not managing to budge him an inch. “I finally know what I want, and I want it now.” Before she had time to worry about the fact that she hadn’t done this before. She didn’t want to let the fear that he would be disappointed in her creep in, but the slower they went, the more time she had to realize she couldn’t compete with the women he must have known before.

He seemed to realize the flash fire of lust was fading because he lowered his weight against her and kissed her again. The press of his body, the sinful skill of his lips—she forgot her reservations as he pushed every thought but more from her mind. She twisted beneath him, aching to be closer, but he controlled everything—the pace, the pressure, every touch.

Until she sucked hard on his tongue as she thrust her hips up and ground against his erection, and all that tightly wound control snapped. He growled and yanked at her clothes, shoving her shirt and bra up to feast on her breasts, teeth and lips and tongue making her writhe and release breathless, eager gasps. He nibbled along the under curve of her breasts, his palms shaping the plump mounds, raising one nipple to his lips. His tongue flicked lightly across the swollen tip, then his teeth closed and tugged, triggering a surge of heavy, liquid heat, spreading through her body and pooling at her core.

Then he sucked, and each pull released another pulse of heat. She whimpered his name and he released her with a moist pop and a flash of his teeth, before he bent to give her other breast the same treatment.

Realizing belatedly that her hands were free, Lila traced her claws over his bare shoulders, feather light. He rewarded her with a drawing pull of his lips, then his hands were shoving at her clothes again. She helped him tug the clinging fabric of her shirt over her head and discard her bra, and this time when she lifted her hips, he reared back to slide her skirt and panties down her legs, caressing every inch on the way to her feet. Then she was naked. Vulnerable—if ever a predatory cat can be vulnerable. And purring.

An answering sound rumbled from his chest as he looked down at her, sprawled out on the royal blue comforter on his bed. “Perfect,” he rasped, reaching for his zipper. He shoved his jeans and briefs down over his hips and Lila’s nerves returned in a rush at the sight of him, large and veined and thrusting up toward her, the tip a rosy purple. She didn’t know what to do, how to touch him, but she reached out and gently brushed her fingers up the side of his shaft, catching the first drop of moisture from the tip on her fingertip and bringing it to her mouth. Santiago’s pupils dilated and he growled, “Fuck, Lila,” low in his throat, reaching for her with hard hands, dragging her toward him and positioning her as he wanted, her hips at the edge of the bed.

He fitted himself to her, notching the heavy head inside her and Lila gasped, fighting the urge to squirm against the intrusion. He hissed in a curse and dropped his forehead down to rest against hers, whispering a string of barely sensible phrases, not all of them in English, praising the tight clasp of her body, urging her to open for him, all the while rocking his hips to push in deeper. Too much. Lila stiffened, the pleasure-pain shifting into pure pain. She wanted to love it so badly, wanted it to be as good as all the books she’d read and the fire in her blood had promised, but the pain stirred her doubt and she stiffened, a soft, uncertain sound escaping her throat. Santiago reached between them, still whispering his smoky encouragement, and found her clit, rolling it beneath his thumb in a tight circle that unknotted every muscle in her body and wound it tight with a new kind of tension. A building, eager ache, twisting toward something, striving and pushing. He thrust deeper and Lila moaned, pushing up to meet him, his thickness stretching her, filling her until she could feel him in places she hadn’t known she had.

He rolled his thumb faster and her cries changed in pitch, high and desperate. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured against her ear, his teeth catching the lobe. “Just a little more.”

How could she take more? As his thumb worked her clit, his other hand splayed over her hip, holding her steady as he pushed into her with little pulses. He grabbed her knee, pressing it toward her shoulder, and with the angle he hit something inside her and her tension catapulted to a new level, the last of her reservations swamped by a tide of pure, blinding sensation. Lila cried out, breathless, panting his name.

He sank his teeth into her shoulder, his free hand linking with hers as he released the pressure on her clit with the other, flicked it lightly, then rolled it hard and pleasure slammed into her, rolled her under, shuddering through her limbs and melting her bones.

He hilted with her orgasm, pushing into her with short, deep pulses, then withdrawing all the way and driving deep. Before she could catch her breath, she was climbing again, punctuating the end of each sharp, fast thrust with a little cry and sobbing with the force of a second release hard on the heels of the first.

Santiago growled and lifted her off the bed, still deep inside her as he spun and pinned her against the wall, pounding into her, his claws digging into the plaster as rough, inhuman sounds ripped from his throat. She clung, wrapping her legs tight around him as he groaned, driving hard one last time and holding as his body shuddered and he spilled into her.

Dazed, Lila trembled with aftershocks, closing her eyes and trying to memorize this moment. The heat of him. The sweat. The fullness and the ache. His arms coming tenderly around her. His lips brushing her ear, whispering soft words in a language she didn’t speak but somehow understood. The way his voice wrapped around the vowels of her name. The gentle brush of his hand, pushing her hair back from her face. His low, groaning chuckle as he peeled them both off the wall and slid free of her body, sweeping her up into the cradle of his arms and carrying her to the bed to curl his body around hers.

She didn’t want to forget a moment of this. Because she could never have it again.

Chapter Nine

Santiago lolled on his bed, feeling like the king of the universe. The water was running in the bathroom. His woman was in the shower. His woman. He should go in there and join her, but it was too soon to take her again. She’d be sore. He hadn’t missed the fact that she was a virgin.

He knew it made him a Neanderthal, but part of him loved that he’d been the first. That she was only his, and always would be. His lioness. His Lila.

Perhaps they wouldn’t go as far as Seattle. Just far enough to shake her free of the pride’s obligations, to show her that the world wouldn’t crumble if she didn’t marry Roman. Over to Billings, maybe. Or up into Canada. There was a wolf pack just north of the border Lila might be interested to meet.

The water shut off and he came to his feet, eager to see her again, even if they’d only been apart fifteen minutes. He pulled on his jeans to remind himself not to touch her and crossed to tap on the bathroom door she’d left cracked open. It swung back to reveal her standing in front of the vanity, wearing only a towel.

She met his eyes in the reflection and smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

He hadn’t been as gentle as he would have liked. He hadn’t been gentle at all, but Lila had seemed to be with him all the way. He hoped she wasn’t regretting it now.

Her smile turned wistful. “Right now I’m so good I wonder how I’m ever going to leave.”

“So stay. We can pick up anything you might need on the road.”

The smile fell away from her face. “The road?”

“I thought you might be interested in seeing Canada. There’s a wolf pack—”

“Santiago. I can’t.”

He came up behind her, looping his arms around her waist, the terrycloth rubbing against his skin. “We wouldn’t be gone long—just enough time to get some separation from the pride. If we stay here, it’ll be that much harder to make a clean break, but if that’s what you want, I’ll stay with you.”

“That isn’t what I meant.” She turned in his arms. “I can’t go. Nothing has changed.”

Dread began to seep in around the edges of his perfect contentment. His hands curled into fists, the cat rising to press against his skin. “Everything has changed. You’re mine and I’m yours. You said—”

“I know. And I’ll always be yours. Nothing can take that away from us. But this can’t happen again. I’m sorry, but I have to go back. I have to do my duty for the pride.”

“You can’t be serious.” Anger throbbed, blinding and hot, with every beat of his heart. “What the fuck do I have to do?”

“Nothing. Santiago—” She tried to put her arms around him, but he shoved away, stalking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

The jaguar clawed and snarled beneath his skin, itching to get out, but he shoved it down. He paced to the bed and back as Lila hovered in the bathroom doorway, watching him warily. “Do you want me to challenge Roman for you? Is that it?” he growled.

“No! No, you can’t. You have to promise me you won’t.”

“Because it might destabilize the pride? Because every goddamn thing we do has to be about the fucking pride?”

“Because I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt,” she whispered.

Rage flared that she could doubt him. “I wouldn’t lose, Lila. I will tear any bastard to pieces who tries to keep me away from you, do you understand?”

“He’s so much bigger—”

“I would gut him,” he said ruthlessly. “You’re mine.” He prowled over to her, the jaguar riding him hard, and claimed her with a hard, fast kiss. “Understand?”

She braced her hands on his chest, right over the brutal thud of his heart. “I do, and I wasn’t lying when I said I was yours. Part of me—”

“You can’t offer your heart and soul in half measures,” Santiago snarled. “I love you.”

She gave a little gasp, as if she could actually be shocked by the words. How could she not know?

But he wasn’t done yet. He bent his head, pressing their foreheads together. “No one could ever love you the way I do. I was fine being alone, thought I always would be until I met you. You changed me. Brought me to life. Made me feel like I had a heart for the first time. I only know how to love because of you and I will never stop.”

Moisture sparkled on her eyelashes. “I should go.”

An angry growl ripped passage through his throat. “Tell me you really want me to let you go and I will.” His arms closed around her, drawing her into his body. “But we both know it would be a lie.” She wanted to be with him. He knew that down to his soul. But she was ruled by her fear. Too damn scared to take hold of the life she really wanted when it was staring her in the face. “I won’t make you rule the pride or be anything you don’t want to be. We can choose our own life together, whatever you want it to be, if you’re only brave enough to take it.”

“It isn’t bravery. Don’t you see? It’s selfishness.” She twisted out of his grip and moved around the room, gathering up her scattered clothing. “If I run away, it creates an appearance of weakness in the pride, a fault line in the power structure. My father or Roman could be challenged by one of the new lions—”

“If they can’t hold their own against the new lions then they don’t deserve to hold the pride.”

“So you want to see some stranger who doesn’t love this place take over and do whatever the hell he wants with it just because he’s good in a fight? You want all the non-lion shifters who have lived here for twenty years to be turned out because that isn’t the way the new Alpha wants it? You want some unknown nomad in charge of things right when it’s time to decide whether we’ll come out to the humans or whether we’ll fight back against this organization that’s hunting us?”

“I want you.”

“There are consequences!” she shouted. She sucked in a breath, seeming startled by her own volume. When she spoke again, it was with careful modulated softness. “I shouldn’t have come here. It was selfish of me to want you, even for a little while, but I thought if I could just have this one thing it would be easier to go back and do what I have to.”

“You won’t convince me that you have to. Roman can hold the pride. No one will challenge your father.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Have a little faith in them. Hell, have a little faith in me. I’ll take care of you—which means I’ll never let anyone hurt your father. I’ll fight right next to him if it comes to that, and so will half the pride. What about Hugo? You think anyone wants to tangle with an enraged bear-shifter after they slaughter his best friend?”

“That isn’t how things work. Challenges are one-on-one.”

He shook his head and stalked toward her. He’d given her enough space. “You can pretend this is about your father or the pride or Roman or your fucking duty, but the fact is you’re scared. So fucking scared of wanting me. Why is that, Lila? Why can’t you let yourself believe me when I say I will always be here for you?”

He caught her and she went unresisting into his arms, her protest whisper-soft. “Because I’m just a fantasy to you.”

“Does this feel like a fantasy?” His mouth swooped down on hers. The kiss started rough and dominating, but it gentled instantly. How could she not see how true this was? Couldn’t she feel it? How could she have doubts? He coaxed her with lips and tongue and teeth and she came up on her toes, clinging to his neck as a soft, yearning sound caught in her throat.

He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, sinking down onto it with her draped across his lap, the towel slipping loose beneath his hands at the first tug. The kiss stretched on and on, long and deep and achingly sweet as he tempted her to believe in this, to believe in them.

When he finally released her lips, she pressed her face against his neck and whispered, “Please.”

“Please what?” he growled, the words a dark rasp.

“More.”

He groaned and kissed her again, trying to keep himself in check, holding in mind how sore she must be, but when she straddled him, bare to the skin, and tugged at his jeans, begging so sweetly, he couldn’t deny her. He stroked his fingers into her slick folds, crooking one up inside her, but she twisted and clung and pleaded for more. Always more.

He tipped her back onto the bed and lifted her to his mouth, sucking on the sensitive nub of her clit as his fingers worked inside her. Lila released a high, gasping keen, but still that word came again. “More.”

He nipped the soft skin of her inner thigh and set his mouth to her center again, deliberate flicks of his tongue making her shudder and writhe. But when she threaded her fingers through his hair it wasn’t to hold him closer, but shove him away, pushing him onto his back and crawling up over him, spreading her thighs over his and reaching down to undo his jeans.

“You’re too tender,” he warned, and her eyes flashed.

“I’m a lioness. Don’t baby me. I’ll tell you when it’s more than I can take.”

God, she was gorgeous. Blonde hair falling over her shoulders, eyes flashing, breasts flushed and rising with each breath. Her fingers released him and he half-growled, half-purred at the first feather-light stroke of her hand. “Harder,” he urged.

“Like this?” She tugged him from base to tip in a long, firm stroke and his verbal center melted. He groaned incoherently and she repeated the gesture with a rub of her thumb over his slit at the end. “Or like this?”

“Where did you learn to do that?”

She bent and sucked the head into her mouth, laving it with her tongue and releasing it with a succulent pop. “I read a lot.” Then she set her lips to him again, drawing him deep with a mind-melting wet suction.

“Fuck.” He would buy her books. He would buy her every goddamn book in the world.

Her head bobbed up and down and he gathered her hair out of the way so he could watch himself sliding in and out of her mouth, the sight so fucking erotic he felt his balls drawing up tight.

“Lila.”

She ignored him, totally focused on her task. He was panting now, his vision starting to fade out around the edges until only she existed.

“Lila, I’m going to—”

“Hmmm?”

Her humming around his shaft almost killed him. His hips jerked and his eyes rolled back. It was starting. The next stroke…

She lifted her head. “Did you say something?”

“Minx.” He growled and lunged for her, flipping her to her stomach and pressing his chest to her back. He scraped his teeth over the place where her shoulder met her neck and she shivered. Notching the head of his cock against her entrance, he let her wetness coat him until he was slick with her scent. “Say please.”

Her claws flashed out, leaving little punctures in the sheets. “Make me.”

He reached beneath her and found her clit, strumming it with teasing flicks until her head thrashed from side to side and she whimpered, “Santiago, please.”

He drove into her, high and hard inside her slick channel with one luscious stroke.

Mine.

He stopped himself from saying it out loud by sinking his teeth into her skin, marking her as he plunged deep. He withdrew until the head of him notched at her entrance and she tipped her shoulders lower, pressing her ass up into him in wild invitation. He growled and slammed in again, shoving them both forward on the bed until she braced her hands on the headboard and he gripped her hips to keep her still as he pistoned into her, fast and slick and perfect.

He could feel her fighting a shift and was ready to go with her if she turned, but that wasn’t the kind of release she yanked him into. Her scream was purely human as her inner muscles contracted and they both slammed into ecstasy. He groaned her name against her neck as his brain exploded and scalding heat rocketed from the base of his spine, up his shaft and into her tight sheath. Mine.

Chapter Ten

Her jaguar lover was all cat even though he was in human form, lounging on the bed and watching her from lazily slitted brown eyes as she dressed. They hadn’t spoken since he slipped from her body. He hadn’t drawn her tenderly against his chest like last time, hadn’t protested when she rolled out from under his haphazardly draped arm. He didn’t protest now as she fastened her bra and stepped into her skirt. He just watched.

She wanted to apologize again, to beg him to understand, but she knew if she broke the silence it would only start another fight. One she desperately wanted to avoid. So she dressed in silence and avoided looking right at him. He was beautiful, all muscle and heat. She’d never expected a man like him to want her and now that he did it was almost too much to bear.

“I’ll wait.”

She was crouched down, buckling her shoe when his deep voice rasped over the words. She didn’t answer. Didn’t have any words that would magically make everything different so they could be together.

“Go back to the pride if you want. Take the time you need. All you have to do is come back to me. I’ll wait for you.”

Her chest ached and Lila swallowed hard. This was what people meant when they said their hearts were breaking. This was what it felt like. She’d read about it. Imagined it. And yet she’d never understood exactly how much it would hurt. “Santiago—”

He must have heard the rejection in her voice, because he cut her off. “I’ll try to give you space, if that’s what you want, but you can’t ask me not to fight for you, not now that you’re mine.”

She felt like she’d always been his. Even before she knew it. But that didn’t change anything. “I have to go.”

He rose then, all lithe feline grace as he stood and strode toward her, stopping before he was close enough to touch. “Don’t make me wait forever, Lila. I won’t watch you marry him.”

She couldn’t respond to that. Didn’t even have the words to try. “Goodbye, Santiago Flores.”

She didn’t look back. Not when she felt the air-pressure pop of him taking his jaguar form behind her. She didn’t want to see the beautiful black-on-black rosettes or the way his eyes went yellow, glowing bright against the midnight fur. She ran down the stairs and didn’t stop when she heard the first coughing roar.

She fled, refusing to look back, as more roars chased her down the road.

It felt wrong, driving away from him, but she couldn’t think with him there, and she needed to sift through all the layers of confusion that had invaded her neatly ordered life. She’d never felt so lost before—but then she’d never had to choose between what she should do and what she wanted to do, because she’d never let herself want anything the way she wanted to go back to Santiago.

Could she trust that he was right? That the pride would survive without her? Or was he just another person trying to get her to be what he wanted her to be?

She was scared. Just as he’d accused her of being. Scared that she would turn against her pride, hurt her family, destroy so many lives and he might not even really love her the way he thought he did. What if he was only in love with the idea of her? What if he stopped wanting her the second she stopped being his perfect fantasy?

How could she risk it? Not just her heart but all the lives she would disrupt by chasing the dream of him.

But when she closed her eyes, she couldn’t imagine a future without him, couldn’t see herself marrying Roman any more. Not knowing what she did now, being the woman she now was.

Lila opened her eyes—the better to not drive into a ditch—and focused on the road taking her farther and farther away from where she wanted to be.

Santiago may only be in love with the idea of her, but wasn’t that what everyone did? All they had was ideas of each other. And Santiago knew her, knew things about her only Patch had ever discovered, and his affections were unconditional—or conditional only on her being bold enough to take the life she wanted. All she had to do was love him back.

Which she was already doing.

She was in love with Santiago Flores.

She’d dreamt of this—loving and being loved in return. It had always been there, in the back corner of her heart, a longing she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. It had taken Santiago to make her see. She was more than the perfect daughter and perfect future Alpha’s mate. She could be more with him.

The pride gates came into view ahead and Lila tapped the code into Patch’s remote. She didn’t feel her usual surge of homecoming as she drove onto pride land. Her home was behind her now, in a spiral tree house in the woods.

She would speak to Roman. Speak to her parents. They would work something out. No one wanted her to be miserable. There wasn’t a wicked witch standing between her and Prince Charming. Together they would find an answer that wouldn’t weaken the pride and she would be free to be with Santiago.

Lila slowed as the second perimeter line rose up in front of her headlights. The same guards who had stood aside when she pulled rank on them hours earlier now blocked her way. She hadn’t expected her absence to go unnoted, but she hadn’t expected to be barred entry. Lila threw Patch’s Subaru into park, waiting for one of the men to break away from the others and approach her door, but another figure appeared out of the darkness to her left.

Lila cringed as her mother jerked open the driver’s side door.

“Slide over.”

Lila unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed over the center console into the passenger seat. Her mother took her place behind the wheel and the guards parted like the Red Sea when Lucienne Fallon inclined her regal head in their direction. She drove deeper into the pride lands, away from the main compound, without saying a word. She didn’t need to. The little wrinkle of distaste between her brows when she sniffed the air in the cab spoke volumes.

Lila shrank down in her seat, knowing Santiago’s scent must be all over her after their last post-shower interlude.

The Subaru crested a hill on the western edge of the lands and her mother pulled off into the lookout, cutting the engine and climbing out of the car, still without saying a word. Lila followed, albeit reluctantly. She’d known she was going to have to have this conversation with her mother, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.

The night wind was crisp, carrying the familiar scents of the pride lands in fall. Cedar, pine and the traces of feline musk on the wind. A thousand stars pricked pinpoints into the black blanket of the sky, and moonlight cast eerie shadows through the trees as the heavy moon began to rise. Lila wondered what the moonlight looked like sifting through the trees around Santiago’s deck.

“I trust you had a good time,” her mother said finally, when they were leaning side by side against the hood.

“I love him.”

Her mother nodded, as if there was nothing unexpected in the announcement. As if Lila’s whole world hadn’t been reshaped around that fact.

“We make sacrifices for the pride,” she said, her voice a whisper on the breeze as she stared out over the pride lands. “It won’t be easy to give him up, but you know it’s the right thing to do.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Lila, I’m the only one who understands.”

“That isn’t what I meant. It’s not about being the Alpha’s mate. I’m not you. Marrying Roman wouldn’t just be doing my duty for the pride. It would be giving up my chance at being truly happy.”

“Duty is its own happiness. The satisfaction can be so much richer than personal gratification. I know you won’t be the same kind of Alpha’s mate I am, but you’ll be strong in your own way. In your own right.”

“You don’t understand,” Lila said again. “You never had to give up a chance at love—”

“Didn’t I?”

Lila went still at the words, soft, but with a subtle sharpness, a well-honed blade in two tiny words. “Who?”

“Does it matter?” Lucienne turned her head then, meeting Lila’s eyes with such simple directness. “I never regretted my decision to be with your father. Just as you will never regret marrying Roman. He’s a good man, Lila.”

“I know he’s a good man, Mom. But he’s not mine.” Her man was flawed. Demanding and temperamental and romantic and playful in the most surprising ways. Their children may never be able to shift and they may never be accepted into a pride if Lone Pine threw them out. But none of that could counter the fact that he was hers.

“I thought you’d outgrown that sort of childish romanticism.”

“Apparently not.”

Her mother frowned, disapproval in every line of her face. “Have you even thought about what this little rebellion of yours could do to the pride?”

Lila gave a soft, scoffing laugh. “I’ve thought of nothing else for days.”

“Then you know what you’re doing impacts more people than just you and Roman and this panther.” She made the breed sound like an epithet. “Lila, be sensible. I was tempted once too. It wasn’t easy choosing your father when my heart was leading me elsewhere, but it was the right choice.”

“And the man you loved? What did he have to say about it?”

“He agreed it was right for the good of the pride. We both love this place—and your father, in our own ways.”

Hugo. The penny dropped and Lila had to swallow her gasp. Her mother had once been in love with her father’s best friend. A bear shifter she could never marry. Holy shit.

“After I made my choice, we never acted on our feelings, because we both knew it would have a negative impact on the pride.”

So noble. And so stupid. Funny how hearing her mother talk about exactly what she had been thinking of doing to Santiago made it clear how heartless it all was. How wrong for her. She wasn’t her mother. She would always regret it if she left Santiago. Whether their children could shift or not, Lila wanted them to be his. Jaguars, lions, some kind of hybrid, she didn’t care. She just wanted them to be healthy and have his eyes and his laugh.

She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life always wondering if she could have been happier with the man who promised to love her while married by obligation to a man who never truly would.

Lila Fallon wanted the goddamn fairy tale.

“You want me to marry Roman, answer me one question. The man you gave up. Do you still love him?”

Silence stretched until Lila thought her mother wouldn’t answer—which was answer enough. Then, “In a way, I suppose I do. But I love the pride more.”

She supposed.

No, Lila was not her mother. She would never suppose her emotions, living that half-life of all head and no heart. She was a romantic. She supposed she always had been, but it had taken a jaguar’s kiss to wake her up to the fire of longing in her soul.

She would do what she could to make sure it wouldn’t weaken the pride, but she just couldn’t see how denying her heart could possibly make the pride stronger. She couldn’t be happy if she gave Santiago up. It would eat away at her, and who benefited from that?

Her mother straightened away from the bumper, dusting off her hands. “We should get back to the pride. I’m sure we’ve been missed. We’ll tell your father and Roman we were busy with wedding preparations and lost track of time. Perhaps tomorrow we should go into town and you can try on some wedding dresses.” She smiled. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride, Lila. You’ll make the whole pride proud.”

No. She wouldn’t. But maybe that wasn’t such a crime. Maybe she didn’t have to live her life for the approval and happiness of others.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t.”

She didn’t wait to hear her mother’s argument, didn’t even bother stripping out of her clothes, just shifted, ignoring the discomfort of her clothing shredding from her body as her furred form burst through. She leapt into motion, the ground blurring beneath her paws as she ran.

He’d said he would wait, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. She didn’t want to waste another second.

Lila had always been fast, but she’d never had a reason to run like she did tonight. The miles vanished under her paws.

Chapter Eleven

Santiago streaked through the forest, one more shadow among shadows. He’d told Lila he would wait for her, but it wasn’t in him to just sit back and wait for fate to decide for him. He needed action, so he’d slipped back onto pride land and was racing through the night toward the main compound.

Not to see Lila, though he desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and take away all her troubles. He’d meant it when he said he would try to give her space. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go see Patch. No one knew Lila better—and few knew the pride as well as Patch did either. If anyone could help him understand the mess of politics and power plays involved in lion prides, Patch would. Another independent cat who had learned how to navigate these treacherous waters.

He needed to find a way through this mess that didn’t involve Lila having to choose between him and her pride. Because she would never be happy with him if she had to hurt others to be with him. He wanted her without guilt and regrets.

And she loved it here. He didn’t want her to have to leave her home to be with him. She was a lioness. Cutting her away from the pride entirely would be like the loss of a limb to her. There had to be another way.

A flash of golden fur in the moonlight shot across the edge of his vision. He almost ignored it—it could be any one of dozens of lions out for a midnight run—but then a scent on the breeze teased his senses. A very familiar scent. Lila.

He changed direction, giving chase. He stretched out, long legs reaching. She was fast—so damn fast for a lioness—but jaguars were built for speed. Even so, he barely gained ground. She stayed ahead of him, a golden bolt of lightning as the forest opened up into a field.

Santiago roared, the sound rushing ahead of him to her. He saw her steps falter, her pace slowing, ears twitching back, then with a twitch of her tail she was off again, almost as fast, but darting to the north, giving him a chance to take an angle to cut her off. But still he couldn’t quite run her down.

She let him get close before putting on another burst of speed. He surged after her and she stopped suddenly, claws digging grooves into the earth as she pivoted sharply. His paws slid out from under him when he tried to change direction too quickly and she danced around in a playful circle, chuffing at him in feline laughter. He let her circle close, coiling his body beneath him and leaping with no warning, his paws striking her shoulder and rolling her.

She snarled and snapped at him, half-heartedly batting him away, but he caught her by the scruff, tightening his jaws just enough to prove his victory. He was big for a jaguar, so in weight they were pretty evenly matched. She might have been able to shake him off, but instead she swatted him playfully and made a little huffing noise until he released her and pulled back enough to shift.

She took human form with him, her playful smile not dimming in the least when they were sprawled together in nothing but their skin.

Something had changed. The woman who’d left him only an hour ago had looked like her heart was breaking. The one splayed beneath him on the grass sparkled and shone like the girl he’d met on that football field five years ago.

“Where were you going?” he asked.

“To you. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

His heart wanted to lift, but he’d been up and down too many times in the last twenty-four hours to rejoice so quickly. “What about the pride? Lila, I don’t want to ask you to choose between them and me, but you know they won’t accept me as your mate.”

“They’ll have to.” She twined her arms around his neck and stirred beneath him—if he hadn’t already been achingly aware of their position, he was now. “I’m keeping you.”

“Just like that?”

“I know what I want now,” she purred. “No questions. No doubts. And when a lioness knows what she wants, the best thing to do is let her have it because nothing can stop her.”

“Is that so? And what is it you want, Lila Fallon?”

“You. I love you, Santiago Flores. Now and forever. I want you.” She grinned, leaning up to nip his lower lip. “You’re my Prince Charming. Christ, you built me a castle. You always ask me what I would be if I could choose my own life. Well now I know. I would be yours. The rest is just details.”

Santiago threaded his fingers through her golden hair. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I love you. Does anything else matter?”

“No. Nothing.” He kissed her, and it was somehow sweeter than every touch that came before, because this time, she was truly his. Forever. He pulled back just enough to smile against her lips. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of a lioness who knows what she wants.”

“Then give me what I want, Santiago Flores.”

The way she said his name was a seduction itself, and he immediately set about doing exactly as she asked, pleasing her becoming his new obsession. She arched against him, purring deep.

Life wouldn’t always be easy. In fact, there would be days when it might be hell, but he would take any measure of hell to be in her arms. She was his heaven. His beating heart. His soul.

The rest was just details.

About the Author

An Alaskan born and raised, award-winning paranormal romance author Vivi Andrews still lives in the frozen north when she isn’t indulging her travel addiction by bouncing around the globe. Whether at home or on the road, she’s always at work on her next happily-ever-after. For more about her books or the exploits of a nomadic author, please visit her website at www.viviandrews.com, or find her on Facebook and Twitter.

Content

Jaguar's Kiss
Lone Pine Pride - 1
Vivi Andrews

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

About the Author