Treasured by a Tiger Page 12

  Or lost himself entirely in some sort of trance.

  Tanix and Eyrie eyed him closely, their brows furrowed with deep lines as they frowned, jaws set like steel vices. They didn’t trust Brink. Because he was different to them, afflicted by something?

  “What were we talking about?” Brink said.

  “The mortals.” Ren cast his fellow dragon a concerned look that lasted only a second, was quickly replaced with a mask that concealed his feelings.

  While Tanix and Eyrie didn’t trust Brink, their alpha clearly did, and had a soft spot for the dark dragon.

  Brink’s black eyebrows knitted hard and he dropped his gaze to the ground. “I have seen them in a few areas now… always close to the portals. I have the feeling they are using fae to get them through.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  It matched what Grey had read in the reports Talon had shown him though. There had been several projects that mentioned employing fae or people capable of working the portals to get them through the pathways from the mortal realm into Hell.

  “The first group I spotted were the largest party. They had set up camp a day’s march south from here.”

  “How long ago was this?” Grey didn’t dare hope the date would match what had been listed in the project he was researching for Talon.

  Brink frowned, and then lifted his head and met Grey’s gaze. “Almost a lunar cycle ago now.”

  Gods.

  It had to be the same team.

  Ren came to the edge of the platform. “These are the ones you are hunting?”

  Grey nodded.

  The golden-haired male stared him down, his eyes impassive and cold. “Then while your female retrieves the gem I was promised as payment for removing her shackles, you will pay the price of her freedom.”

  He snarled at Ren, baring his emerging fangs, and flexed his fingers as his claws extended. No fucking way this dragon was going to lay a hand on her. He would kill the son of a bitch before it could happen.

  Brink’s hand came down hard on his shoulder, black claws digging into his bare skin as he gripped it, and Grey hissed and tried to shake him off.

  “Swear my payment to me,” Ren’s eyes slid towards the path Lyra had taken, “Or the female will be mine and I will make her watch as I slit you open.”

  A cold blade met the front of his throat.

  Brink lifted it, forcing Grey to tip his head up to avoid being cut, making him look up at Ren where he loomed over him, a glimmer of darkness in his eyes that warned he would do it.

  He was no use to Lyra dead, and there was no way he would let this male touch her.

  He growled at the bastard.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  CHAPTER 12

  Lyra couldn’t remember how it had felt to have nothing around her wrists, no metal weighing her down or spell sapping her strength. Had it always felt like this?

  She stared at her stained naked wrists as she walked through the dragon village, fascinated with them. They felt light, strangely so, and she could feel her strength returning, simmering just below the surface of her skin.

  Shit, it felt good.

  She wanted to show Grey.

  There was a bounce in her step as she headed towards the centre of the village, put there by picturing how Grey’s pale blue eyes would light up with warmth and relief when he saw her shackles were gone and she was finally free.

  Able to move on with her life.

  Her steps slowed, the light that had been filling her fading as she entered the square and spotted Grey.

  A beautiful female stood before him, her long crimson hair barely concealing her naked breasts, her red lips curved in a wide alluring smile as she spoke with him.

  He said something back to her.

  The corners of his lips curved.

  Pain lanced Lyra’s heart and she took a step back, her hands falling to brush her thighs as she stared across the open space at Grey, watched him talking with the female. He wasn’t pushing her away, not as he had pushed Lyra away when she had tried to be close to him, had dared to risk everything all so she could kiss him.

  He looked as if he might welcome it if the dragon offered her lips.

  A vision of him dipping his head to kiss the female leaped into her mind and she couldn’t shut it out, even as it tore at her, ripped down that strength that had been flowing back into her and left her battered, weak all over again.

  She backed off another step.

  She knew about dragons. They bedded whoever caught their eye, scratched their itches wherever and whenever they could, and had no qualms about taking multiple partners whenever the mood struck them.

  The female laughed, her eyes lighting up with it, and reached out to place her hand on Grey’s chest.

  Lyra shook her head and stumbled back another step as the need to fight poured through her, had a growl curling from her lips and her claws extending before she could stop them.

  No. She didn’t want to fight.

  She didn’t want to fight for Grey.

  Because he didn’t want her.

  She forced herself to turn her back on him and walk away, but it was hard, her movements slower than she would have liked as her hellcat instincts pushed her to remain, to destroy the dragon who had dared to try to steal what was hers.

  Grey belonged to her.

  No. No he didn’t. He never would. She could see that now. She could see what a fool she had been to think anything could happen between them.

  “Lyra.”

  The sound of him calling her name shattered the hold her hellcat instincts had on her, freeing her from their chains, and she broke into a dead run, weaving through the huts and heading away from him as quickly as she could manage.

  She didn’t dare look back as she sprinted towards the mountains, feared that she would stop if she saw him coming after her, or that he would break her heart by not being there.

  That mocking voice whispered he would remain with the beauty he had been smiling at, the one he clearly wanted.

  Her left leg ached but she kept running, didn’t slow even when she hit the foothills of the mountain. She scrambled up the loose rock, the sharp black stones cutting into her palms and her feet, and breathed hard as she reached what looked like a path.

  She followed it, the ache in her leg becoming a dull throb that had her wincing with each step. It slowed her down and she cursed it as she rubbed her thigh and walked as swiftly as she could manage. She would rest when she was far enough away that the vision of Grey with that female no longer taunted her.

  The black dragon had said the portal was this way.

  Maybe she could reach it without stopping for a break and then she would be almost home.

  She could forget about Grey.

  Gods, the thought of him with another female was sheer torment, up there with the pain the slavers had put her through. She couldn’t handle it. She tried to shut it out, but it persisted, stabbed at her heart as she stumbled and tripped along the path, desperate to get away.

  With every step she managed, the visions grew more heated, the images of the dragon female touching and stroking Grey, pressing her lips to his flesh and tasting him as Lyra wanted, and him welcoming it from the bitch, torturing her.

  Her hellcat side flared up again, prowled beneath her skin and pushed her to turn back around, go back down the mountain, find the redhead and rip her to shreds.

  If the female was dead, Grey would no longer want her.

  Lyra staggered left as her leg gave out, hit a boulder hard and sagged against it, breathing rapidly. Her heart raced, sweat trickling down her spine, and she grimaced and growled as the throbbing in her leg grew more intense. She welcomed the pain, because it broke the hold the visions had on her, giving her a reprieve from them for a heartbeat.

  She tried to push onto her feet.

  Her legs buckled.

  Strong arms grabbed her and a male growled in her right ear.

  “What
the fuck do you think you’re doing running off like that?”

  Grey.

  A very angry Grey.

  The relief that swept through her stole more of her strength, utterly shattered that vision of him with another female and let light pour back into her heart.

  He had come for her.

  He had left the other female behind in order to be with her.

  He huffed and righted her, and then he was gone, pacing away from her. She lifted her eyes to him and weathered the growl he directed at her, and the fierce flash of fangs. His pale blue eyes glowed brightly, his pupils enormous in their centres, and his bare chest heaved as he paced, breathing hard and fast.

  She could feel his fury, his anger.

  His distress.

  He shoved his hands through his silver hair, growled as he bent forwards, and then threw his head back and roared.

  She tensed, her heart leaping high into her throat and lodging there. There was so much pain in that roar, agony she had caused.

  He lowered his hands to his sides, exhaled hard and stared at her, an empty expression on his face. His eyes spoke to her though, relayed his hurt and his despair.

  “How the fuck am I meant to protect you when you run away from me?” He looked down at her hands. “Or is it that you don’t need me anymore now that your restraints are gone?”

  Gods, no. It was nothing like that.

  “What am I supposed to do?” she bit out, his anger fuelling hers, together with the vision of him that haunted her, the sight of him smiling at another female when he wouldn’t smile at her.

  When he didn’t want her.

  “If I had stayed…” She looked away from him, not wanting to say it, not willing to risk herself again like that.

  He laughed, the sound mocking and cold. “I understand. I do… it’s not the first time it’s happened to me… and it’s for the best.”

  She had no damned clue what he was talking about, but she didn’t like that despondent edge to his deep voice, or the resigned look in his eyes.

  “It’s for the best that I want to kill any female who so much as looks at you?” she snapped. “I suppose females getting upset when you look at another female is an every day occurrence for you then?”

  His eyes widened.

  He stared at her, his silence slowly destroying her confidence, pulling apart the strength she had mustered and making her squirm.

  Damn. She shouldn’t have said that. She should have just walked away.

  But she couldn’t.

  She couldn’t walk away from him.

  She had run, but all the while she had been aware that she wouldn’t leave him, that she would stop eventually and she would turn back.

  Because she needed him.

  She had never needed anyone the way she needed Grey.

  He was everything to her.

  “I was just trying to get information,” he said, his tone calm and even now, no trace of anger in it. No trace of any emotion. She could sense his wariness as he studied her, holding himself at a distance from her. His eyes narrowed. “I’m not interested in that female, and what’s it to you if I am? The last I checked, I wasn’t yours… and you didn’t want to be mine.”

  She averted her gaze, stared off up the path to her left, and struggled to find the right words to say, the ones that wouldn’t leave her completely exposed and vulnerable.

  The ones that wouldn’t hurt him.

  She wasn’t sure how many times she had cursed male hellcats in front of him, but clearly it had been enough times to leave a mark on him and now he foolishly thought she didn’t want him.

  She had tried to kiss him for gods’ sakes.

  He took a slow, measured step towards her. “What’s it to you?”

  She could feel his need to know the answer to that question, but she couldn’t say it.

  He lifted his hand, and she held her ground when he hesitated, remained still as he struggled with himself, and a sliver of his fear ran through her veins. He was afraid this would be too much for her. It wouldn’t. She wanted to tell him that. She wasn’t fragile, liable to break if he touched her.

  She would welcome it.

  His palm gently cupped her cheek, his touch so soft and light that it completely undid her, stripping away her strength and leaving her weak, trembling inside.

  She didn’t resist him when he applied a little pressure, enough to draw her head around to face him.

  She tentatively raised her eyes to his.

  Hell, they were tender as they searched hers, filled with warmth and need, a desire to know all the things she wanted to keep hidden from him.

  “It’s no use hiding from me, Lyra,” he rasped, his voice thick and low, stirring heat in her veins as he stepped closer. “I can feel you.”

  She closed her eyes, needing to shut him out again, but she couldn’t. He was in now, and he was in deep, way past the barrier around her heart, beyond the point where she could push him back out, not without hurting him.

  Not without hurting herself.

  “You’re upset,” he husked, a bare whisper, and leaned closer, brought his forehead to her right temple and rested it there.

  She trembled at the feel of him so close to her and wrestled with the instincts that told her to lean into him, to move closer still, to tilt her head just a fraction of a degree and bring their lips into contact. She was sure he would kiss her then. He wouldn’t be able to resist her.

  He would give her what she needed.

  All of him.

  She needed that with a ferocity that shook her, roused her hellcat side and had her verging on taking hold of him.

  And never letting go.

  His breath was warm on her skin, his enticing scent swirling around her, and that heat that always seemed to roll off him called to her, begging her to step into his arms and let him hold her too.

  He murmured, “Gods… do you think it doesn’t upset me too when males look at you? Do you think it doesn’t drive me mad when you speak with them?”

  His fingers twitched against her face, tense for a second before he dropped his hand from her cheek and turned away, breaking contact with her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She grabbed his right wrist before he could pull away from her again, refusing to let him go this time.

  She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  She wouldn’t let him escape.

  “Don’t apologise,” she said and he tensed, his bare shoulders going rigid, but remained with his back to her. She pulled down a deep breath for courage, and put it all out there, because one of them needed to make their feelings clear. “You’re right. I can’t stand you looking at other females… because I want you all to myself.”

  He finally looked over his shoulder at her, his striking blue eyes meeting hers, filled with incredulity and disbelief. “You really mean that?”

  Lyra nodded, a little afraid of where things were going. It felt as if it was happening so quickly, even when the build-up had been long, and a touch infuriating at times.

  The soft edge his eyes gained told her that he wasn’t going to use it against her, reminded her that with him, she didn’t need to be strong all the time. She didn’t need to guard herself so fiercely.

  She could let him in and trust him.

  “Why?”

  That whispered question broke something inside her, tore at her heart as his blue eyes darted between hers, and his emotions swept through their fragile link, relaying everything to her.

  All of his hurt.

  His fear.

  She frowned. “Why not?”

  He tugged free of her grip and paced away from her, past his backpack that lay discarded on the trail, and only stopped when he reached the point where the path began to slope downwards into the dragon clan’s valley.

  “I’m not exactly a prize,” he said to that valley, his back to her, his voice distant. “You can do better.”

  Lyra’s frown deepened. What had gott
en into him?

  She had thought he had been keeping his distance because he either didn’t want to frighten her or because he didn’t want her.

  But as she stared at his rigid back, and sifted through the emotions she could feel flowing through him, she got the impression it ran deeper than that.

  He honestly believed he was unworthy of her.

  “Is this because I’m a hellcat?” She wasn’t sure why it would be. It wasn’t as if hellcats were held in particularly high regard by the other feline shifter species.

  He tilted his head slightly towards her, barely enough that he could see her out of the corner of his eye, and slowly shook his head. “It’s because…”

  His silver eyebrows knitted hard and he angled his head downwards, away from her.

  No damn way he was getting away with leaving her hanging like that.

  She had bared part of herself for him.

  She had let him in.

  It was time he did the same for her.

  She had half a mind to make him answer her, but the fear that flowed through him stole her voice and her breath. What was he thinking to make himself feel so afraid, so unsure and so hurt?

  Whatever it was, it was cutting at him.

  Deeply.

  She pushed away from the boulder, her legs stronger from her rest, and turned towards him, but remained at a distance, giving him time and space, because she could feel how much he needed it. He was trying to fight the feelings, to muster the courage to finish what he had started to say.

  “Grey,” she whispered and he lowered his head further, but the feelings that she could sense in him shifted, the fear fading a little. Because she had spoken to him, had said his name gently with every drop of the affection that she held for him? “I need to know why you feel I can do better than you. I want to understand you, Grey. Please don’t shut me out.”

  She risked a step towards him.

  “Don’t, Lyra.” It came out hoarse, strained to the point of breaking, and her heart bled for him. “Please?”

  She couldn’t do as he had asked. He was hurting, and she needed to take that pain away.

  She closed the distance between them and didn’t hesitate. She took hold of his hand, slipping her fingers through the gap between his thumb and his palm, and stepped around him, so she could see his face.