Courted by her Cougar (Cougar Creek Mates Shifter Romance Series Book 3) Read online

“Haven’t seen a bighorn around here in a while.” Rath looked equally as surprised to see Flint dragging the animal into the creek by its neck.

  So perhaps the time he had taken had been a combination of travelling far enough to find a bighorn sheep and getting it back to Cougar Creek.

  As Flint kept tugging the animal towards her, she took the opportunity to check him over, and breathed a sigh of relief. He had injuries from his fight with the animal, but they were minor, a few cuts on his flank and his left front leg and a small puncture in his right shoulder, and none of his old wounds had reopened.

  He finally reached her, manoeuvring so the sheep was between her and him, and released the animal and looked up at her, breathing hard as his gold eyes met hers, that beautiful corona of green around them telling her it was definitely him.

  Flint looked down at the sheep and back up at her.

  Yasmin wasn’t sure what she was meant to do, but the words that left her lips didn’t go down well with the assembled members of his pride. “This tradition isn’t doing any of you any favours. You have to see how cliché it is for a cat to bring a dead thing and present it to me. Should I rub you behind your ears as a reward?”

  There was an unmistakably wicked glint to his eyes that said he wanted her to rub him somewhere else as he shifted back right in front of her, coming to stand in all his glory before her.

  Before he could speak, Mason came backing into the creek.

  With a dead black bear.

  “You son of a fucking bitch!” Ivy flew at the cougar and Yasmin went to protect her as Mason dropped his kill and bared his fangs at her, but Rath was there in an instant, grabbing the male as he shifted back and slamming his fist into his face.

  Mason snarled and lashed out with a right hook, but Rath was too fast, dodged it with ease and landed a vicious uppercut on his kidney, knocking the wind from him.

  Cobalt leaped into action.

  Not to attack Mason too, but to haul his brother off the poor man.

  Rath growled and fought Cobalt, glaring at Mason the entire time, his eyes glowing golden. Those eyes fell to Ivy as she sank to her knees beside the bear, tears streaming down her face.

  “I’m sure it’s him.” She looked from the bear to Rath, her eyebrows furrowed and voice tight. “I’m sure it’s the male I was photographing. He had this white spot on his chest.”

  She pointed trembling fingers at it.

  Ivy broke down in tears and Rath yanked free of his brother’s grip, looked as if he might punch Mason again, and then went to her, kneeled beside her and gathered her into his arms as she sobbed. She buried her face in his neck and looped her arms around him, clinging to him as he held her and glared at Mason the entire time he tried to calm her.

  Mason’s expression remained flat and cold, devoid of any feeling as he looked from Ivy to the bear.

  Yasmin’s temper frayed, the tethers on it twisting and then snapping as he stood there, looking as if he didn’t give a damn that he had killed one of Ivy’s favourite bears.

  Looking as if he might have even done it on purpose to deal a blow to Rath, and indirectly to Flint.

  Well, she was going to deal a blow to him.

  “I refuse to accept that gift.” She pointed at the dead bear, fire flaring hot in her veins as she stepped off the deck and stormed towards him. “I refuse to accept a man who would intentionally hurt another like that. Ivy is right about you. You’re a son of a fucking bitch.”

  Mason’s dark eyes widened.

  Flint grinned like an idiot for some reason.

  She wasn’t sure why.

  She took her eyes off Mason for a split-second to look at Flint so she could get an explanation out of him.

  Mason launched at him on a roar, and Flint braced himself, leaned forwards and met him head on. He caught the punch Mason threw at his face, and twisted the man’s arm, tearing a pained grunt from Mason as his arm snapped backwards and forced him to drop to his knees to avoid having it broken.

  Flint snarled and jabbed, struck Mason in his Adam’s apple hard enough to have the man choking. Mason reached for his throat, wheezing as he clutched it, and Flint tossed his hand away from him and backed off, giving the man space.

  “Fucking cheater,” Mason bit out, his voice tight and hoarse as he struggled to breathe. He looked up at Flint, his eyes burning gold. “You told her to refuse me.”

  This was because she had refused his kill?

  Mason lumbered onto his feet. “A bear is a bigger kill than a sheep… I should have won this round. I should have won this courting.”

  Her refusal had somehow handed Flint victory.

  “I didn’t know,” Yasmin snapped and his eyes darted to her, narrowing in a way that said he didn’t believe her. “Even if I had, I still would have refused you. I would never have chosen you.”

  He roared and leaped at her.

  Flint was there before he could reach her, grappling with the man and holding him back. Mason snarled and turned his aggression on Flint, and she flinched as he slammed a fist into Flint’s side, targeting the healing puncture wounds there.

  “Back down, both of you.” Cobalt tried to break them up, managed to pull them off each other for a heartbeat.

  It only gave Mason another opening.

  Flint tried to dodge, shifting his hips backwards, but with his brother holding him, he couldn’t evade the blow.

  Mason’s claws slashed across his stomach just above his navel.

  Flint grunted and staggered backwards as Cobalt released him to launch at Mason, tackling him to the ground and slamming his fist into his face with such force the man was out cold after the first blow.

  Cobalt roared, aggression flashing across his face, twisting it into a savage sneer as he dropped on Mason’s chest, his knees pinning the man beneath him. His every muscle tensed, corded and tight beneath his black t-shirt as he snarled and pummelled Mason, a wild and feral beast that seethed with fury.

  Rath and another man rushed to pull Cobalt off Mason before he killed him.

  Yasmin couldn’t move, not even when she wanted to help them.

  Flint pressed his hand to his stomach, handsome face drawn, fear flashing across his features as he looked down.

  That fear turned to shock as he pulled his hand away from the wound and stared at it.

  She knew why.

  The wound was shallower than it should have been, barely a scratch when Mason had clawed him deep.

  Yasmin pressed her hand to her stomach over her cream t-shirt and pulled it away.

  Stared at the crimson covering her palm.

  CHAPTER 18

  Flint couldn’t breathe as he stared at the red blooming on Yasmin’s stomach. Everything slowed as she pulled her hand away, as she stared at it with wide brown eyes that filled with fear.

  She wobbled on her feet.

  He was at her side in an instant, holding her upright as her legs gave out. She didn’t notice him, just stared in horror at her hand.

  “Who did this to you?” He tried to get her to look at him, but she just kept staring.

  Panic combined with fear and anger to push him, and he growled at everyone present, sure it had been one of them.

  But as that panic cleared enough that he could think rather than react, a sickening sort of dread ran through him.

  He looked at her stomach.

  And then his.

  Cold chased on the heels of his dread, gripped his heart in icy talons that pierced deep.

  “How did your mother die?” he croaked.

  She shook, her eyes still on the blood on her palm, and whispered, “My father was shot in the chest.”

  A shiver racked him.

  Her mother had shared that injury because somehow they had been bound.

  Damn it.

  It hit him that she didn’t use her power directly on people because there was a danger it would bind her to them.

  As he was bound to Yasmin.

  He gathered her in
to his arms, hating the way she didn’t protest, didn’t take her wide eyes off her palm, was a thousand miles away from him even when there was barely space for air between them. He cradled her against him and carried her to his cabin, and she didn’t resist as he swept her up the stairs or when he laid her on his bed.

  “Tell me how to fix it. Tell me what to do, Yasmin.” Because he didn’t know what to do, couldn’t think straight to tell her his own name let alone deal with wounds. He was going out of his fucking mind as she continued to stare at her fucking hand.

  Pull it together.

  He sucked down a breath in the hope it would steady his mind and his heart, would allow them both to clear enough that he would know what to do.

  He needed to get a look at the wound, because Mason had struck him hard, deep enough to reach muscle or worse, go right through it.

  She didn’t take her eyes off her hand even as he removed her t-shirt.

  His gasp shattered the tense silence as his eyes landed on her stomach.

  And he found more than just the wound Mason had given him.

  Sickness brewed in his stomach as he charted all the other wounds on her, ones that matched his. From the faint claw marks across her chest and the angry pink circles on her left side, to the fresh cuts and grazes, and dark bruises. His shoulders sagged, his strength leaving him.

  She had been siphoning his injuries since she had saved him after the bear fight.

  “I didn’t know,” he rasped and sank to his knees on the bed beside her. He raked his hands over his black hair, face crumpling as he looked at her, at all the scars and bruises that were his fault. “Fuck. I would have been more careful if you had told me. I’ve been hurting you.”

  She finally moved, a tiny shake of her head.

  “No. I’ve been hurting myself. It was my choice.” Her eyes drifted away from her hand and roamed up his bare chest to meet his. “I was afraid you would be angry with me… because you never wanted…”

  “I want you.” He held nothing back as those words fell from his lips, only thought of soothing her as her turmoil went through him. He smiled faintly. “I need you more than anything… haven’t I proven that? I was an idiot… thinking I could stop at only a night with you… when you’re my everything, Yasmin… so tell me how to fix this.”

  Her eyes watered, shining at him with something he dared to hope was love.

  She nodded.

  Frowned and swallowed hard.

  “You’ll need the kit from Rath.”

  “Already got it.” Cobalt’s deep voice came from behind him and gods, he had never been so glad to hear it.

  His blond brother set the cardboard box down beside Yasmin on the bed, and Flint listened intently as she told him and Cobalt what to do.

  Stitching the wounds closed was one of the most stomach-turning things he had ever done, but it allowed him to get close enough to see that Mason’s claws had only gone through skin and muscle, and not any deeper.

  Yasmin handled the pain like a pro, and damn he admired her for that, for her strength and courage.

  Seemed Cobalt admired the hell out of her for it too.

  “You’ve got balls of steel, Miss Goddess.” His brother wiped his hands on an old towel, cleaning the blood off them as Flint applied the dressings, following her instruction to the letter. “I probably would have passed out and let you all get on with it while I was blissfully unaware… a little like Flint did.”

  He glared at that one, but didn’t take his eyes off his work.

  “I had to stay conscious,” Yasmin murmured, a hint of a smile in her soft voice. “I didn’t want to wake to find ugly stitches all over my stomach.”

  He didn’t glare at her for that. Without her instruction, he probably would have done a bad job. He wasn’t sure he had done a good job as it was. His hands had shaken hard the entire time he had been stitching her up, and he was sure he had made a fucking mess of things.

  “I think you’re going to have an ugly scar regardless. Sorry,” he muttered with a frown, not admiring his work.

  Yasmin huffed and grimaced as she sat up, propping herself on her elbows, and looked down at her stomach.

  She offered him a gentle, reassuring smile. “Not bad for your first go. It’ll heal nicely. I think you pass this class.”

  His face darkened, his mood growing black with it, because this wasn’t a damned joke or something he could make light of, and she shouldn’t be making light of it either.

  Cobalt backed away, heading for the stairs. “On that note…”

  He was downstairs and out of the door in a flash, leaving Flint alone with Yasmin.

  Flint stretched out on the bed beside Yasmin, frowning at the wounds, wishing he had done a better job and struggling to find the words as his thoughts jumbled. He dipped his head and pressed his cheek to her shoulder, breathed her in to reassure himself that she was fine and the pain he had felt in her was fading now, together with her fear.

  He had taken it away from her.

  But gods, he had caused it in the first place, and he couldn’t deal with that. It tore him apart, shredded his insides and left him bleeding.

  “You feel better?” he whispered and peppered her skin with kisses, needing the contact to soothe himself and hoping it would soothe her too.

  “I’ll heal fine. It was my proximity to you when you were injured and my fear for you that caused me to instantly siphon the wound.”

  So she had to be close to him in order to steal his injuries from him. Relief crashed over him as he soaked that in, because it meant he could ensure this never happened again.

  He growled, “Swear you’ll run for the hills next time I’m fighting.”

  “No.” She tried to twist towards him and he frowned as he pushed gently against her shoulder so she couldn’t, forcing her onto her back again.

  “Yes, you will, Yasmin,” he croaked as his throat closed. “I can’t bear the thought of you being hurt like this again because of me.”

  He lifted his head and gazed down at her.

  Her eyes darted between his. “I’ll never run from you, Flint… because I need to know that you’re fine and I need to be there for you if you’re hurt.”

  “But it will hurt you… and I can’t let that happen.” He smoothed his left hand across her cheek, loving the contrast of her olive skin against his paler gold, and his eyebrows furrowed as he stared down into her eyes.

  There was a hint of a smile on her lips and then she raised her hand and mirrored him, cupping his cheek, and fuck, it felt good. Completely undid him. He leaned into her touch, needing more, craving it because it comforted him, had his cougar side finally settling. Damn near pulled a purr from him.

  Her soft voice teased his ears, warmed him inside and chased the lingering cold away. “I’ll keep my distance then… enough that I’ll be able to control our bond.”

  Bond.

  That word hit him hard.

  Had his heart pounding and soul singing.

  He was bound to her.

  Her life to his.

  His to hers.

  He could feel it, the connection that ran deep between them, linked their souls and their futures in a way he found he loved, because he felt complete, whole for the first time.

  Although, he wasn’t sure that was entirely due to their bond.

  As he gazed at her, drinking in the way her dark eyes sparkled at him with emotions he could easily name because they echoed inside him too, were powerful and commanding, he felt certain that their bond wasn’t the only reason.

  It was because he was in love with her.

  Did she love him?

  “Why did you do it?” He tried to find a better way to put it when she frowned at him. “You witnessed what happened to your mother because of her bond to your father… but you still risked it all for me.”

  She brushed her thumb across his cheek, her soft gaze holding his.

  “That night terrified me, and I avoided using my power dir
ectly on people because of it, even though I knew… I could only bind myself to someone…” She lowered her eyes from his, swallowed as her heart hitched in his ears and began to pound. He felt her nerves running through him, tangling with his own, and thought she would remain silent, but then she sighed and raised her eyes back to his. “Someone I care deeply about… deep enough to want to share a piece of my soul with them, entwining us so they would benefit from my strength.”

  His ears rang, pulse thundering as those words registered.

  She stroked his cheek and a smile teased her lips, a little nervous and a lot hopeful.

  “Someone I love.”

  Flint gathered her into his arms and kissed her, softly, slowly, fucking reverently as all the fear, the doubt, the nerves suddenly drained from him, leaving only the warmer and lighter feelings behind.

  His love for her.

  It beat deep inside him. Powerful. Consuming. Undeniable.

  Endless.

  When he finally convinced himself to stop kissing her because he wanted to look at her again, needed to see in her eyes that she was telling him the truth and that she really did love him, she was smiling.

  Stole his breath and his heart all over again.

  He wasn’t sure she would ever stop stealing it.

  She skimmed her hand up and rubbed him behind the ear, and he fought the urge but couldn’t stop his eyelids from dropping as intense pleasure rolled through him, turning him into putty in her hands, revealing his ultimate weakness to her and one he was sure she would exploit whenever she wanted something.

  She withdrew her hand and he managed to convince his eyes to open so he could drink his fill of her again.

  “What was that for?” He sounded too drowsy, as if he had enjoyed that too much, tossing all his cards onto the table.

  The look she gave him said there was no hope for him now. She knew the way to get him wrapped around her little finger. Not that she needed a way. He was already firmly wrapped around it.

  Her smile dazzled him. “I promised to rub your ear.”

  He frowned and then it hit him. When he had offered her his kill, she had joked about petting him as a reward.

  “So you accept my prize?” He canted his head and studied her eyes as they twinkled at him.