Turned by a Tiger Page 8

  She needed a little time to get herself back under control and to get it into her head that whatever she felt for him, whatever she wanted from him, it was impossible.

  She wasn’t going to fall for someone.

  Love was painful. Messy. It destroyed people.

  It wouldn’t destroy her.

  He sighed, and she still refused to look at him, because she was weak, and he had far too little clothing on. Damn him. Just hearing him sigh was enough to have a vivid image of his body in her head, an instant replay of how his muscles shifted whenever he drew a deep breath.

  “Jayna was… she was a tiger like me… and she was taken with me to Archangel. I was meant to protect her,” he whispered, the pain lacing his voice making her want to look at him.

  She resisted, needed just a little more time to reinforce the barrier around her heart and make it strong enough to stand against him. He sighed again. Bastard. She swore he knew that it weakened her whenever he did that, put a vision of deliciousness in her head that she wanted to feast on.

  “She ended up protecting me.” He sagged onto the couch, as if the weight of what had happened was too much for him to bear and he wasn’t strong enough to stand while talking about it. “She’s the reason I’m here now… free at last.”

  “She’s back at Archangel?” Sherry risked glancing at him, and regretted it when her heart melted at the sight of him staring at the TV, his eyes distant and glassy, filled with pain.

  A frown flickered on his brow. “In a way.”

  The regret in those three words told her not to probe into it, because it would only wound him. He had been hurt enough, and she wouldn’t be the one to make him bleed again, not even when she wanted—no, needed—to know what had happened.

  And what Jayna had meant to him.

  She didn’t need to ask to know they had been close, and that the female tiger had meant a lot to him.

  Which left her feeling he was way beyond her reach.

  But it did nothing to stop her from feeling so drawn to him.

  It didn’t stop her from feeling they were meant to be.

  Her gut was screaming at her though, warning her that only heartbreak lay ahead if she allowed him to get under her skin, or any deeper than he already was.

  She had to do something to maintain the distance between them.

  She stooped and picked up her phone from the coffee table, and activated the screen.

  “Who are you calling?” Talon glared at her phone.

  Sherry punched in the number and lifted it to her ear.

  “The cavalry.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The cavalry were apparently the jaguar shifter called Kyter and his mate, Iolanthe.

  Talon frowned at the blond male as he took agitated strides across the small apartment, his heavy-soled black leather boots loud on the floor.

  The second the male had shown up, he had convinced Sherry to give them some time alone and to take a shower so she would feel brighter. Talon had failed to notice that her blue eyes had gained a dullness that wasn’t fatigue. It ran deeper than that.

  Something was bothering her, and it was hurting her.

  The damned jaguar had seen it straight away.

  As soon as Sherry had closed the door to the bedroom and the shower had switched on, Kyter had made it perfectly clear that he blamed him for her apparent emotional pain.

  He had been silent since.

  Iolanthe sat on the arm of the couch, watching her mate with concerned violet eyes as she played with her long blue-black hair, casually braiding it. She had ditched the armour at least, swapping it for a black leather corset and matching tight black leather trousers, coupled with knee-high boots. The hilt of a blade peeked out from behind her right side. She probably had it strapped to the waist of her trousers.

  Talon warily kept an eye on her as he stood near the coffee table, because he’d had enough blades stuck in him over the last seven or eight months to last an eternity.

  Kyter tossed him another black look, one that accused him all over again.

  “I did nothing to her.” It felt as if he had said that around a million and one times now.

  None of them had changed the way the jaguar looked at him. The male stopped, folded his arms across his dark grey t-shirt, and shifted his booted feet shoulder-width apart, causing his black combat trousers to stretch tight across his thighs.

  A fighting position.

  As if Talon was stupid enough to attack him. He recalled the male threatening to leave him on the curb for Archangel to find, but he hadn’t gone through with it. There was honour in him, and doubt too. He believed that Archangel were up to no good.

  It was down to Talon to prove it.

  “I don’t like you,” Kyter muttered.

  Iolanthe sighed. “Here we go again.”

  Her mate glared at her. It was a nice change from him glaring at Talon.

  He spoke too soon, because the jaguar’s piercing gold gaze came back to land on him.

  “I saw the way you looked at her… we both did,” Kyter snapped, voice a low growl that had Talon’s hackles rising. “You think she’s something to you… but I’m not letting it happen.”

  “Isn’t it her choice?” he bit out.

  Kyter flashed his fangs. “Don’t give me that bullshit. I’m a male… I know what’s going on in that head of yours… and what your animal side wants you to do. I’m saying to back the fuck off now because it isn’t going to happen.”

  Talon clenched his fists at his sides and somehow, the gods only knew how, stopped himself from vaulting over the couch and ploughing one of them into the irritating bastard’s face.

  Trouble was, said irritating bastard was right about one thing.

  His tiger did want Sherry, and it wanted her whether she liked it or not. It craved her. Ached for her. And it wouldn’t be happy, he wouldn’t be happy, until she was his.

  He wouldn’t rest until then.

  But he wasn’t doing this the way his nature wanted, he wasn’t going to drag her kicking and screaming into his world just because she had been made for him.

  “It’s her choice,” he said again.

  Kyter took a hard step forward.

  Iolanthe rose to her feet, crossed the room and placed her hand on Kyter’s chest, stopping him dead. “Ki’aro… if he hurts Sherry, we will hurt him.”

  She slid cold violet eyes in Talon’s direction and a chill went down his spine.

  He held his hands up at his sides. “Look… I have no intention of—”

  The door to the bedroom opened.

  Everyone looked there.

  Sherry stood on the threshold, a beige towel held against her wet golden hair and her blue eyes wide as she looked at each of them in turn.

  Those eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Are you talking about me?”

  “No,” Kyter quickly said, before Talon could utter a word, and at least they were on the same side when it came to keeping some things from her.

  For now anyway.

  He would find a way to tell her that she was his fated one when she was ready to hear it.

  And he was ready to say it.

  Sherry gave Kyter a look, huffed and continued on through the living room to the kitchen.

  Talon’s gaze followed her, raking down her long blonde hair, the wet patch it had left on the back of her white t-shirt, to the snug pale blue jeans that moulded to her pert backside.

  Kyter growled.

  He refused to take his eyes off her, didn’t give a damn if the male hit him for it either. He was sure that Sherry would have a few things to say if Kyter dared to lay a hand on him.

  She emerged from the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee, yawned and padded across the wooden floor to the jaguar.

  And boxed him on the arm.

  “I chose my apartment for this meeting because it’s neutral territory… so no growling at my guest.” She swept past Kyter, missing the scowl he aimed at her, and settled on the
arm of the couch, twisted on her bottom so she was facing the other way and pressed her bare feet into the seat.

  Talon wanted to mention that her apartment wasn’t neutral territory, that he had made it his ground while she had been sleeping, and he wasn’t particularly proud of it.

  There was something a little sad about the spree he had gone on now he was looking back at it, but at the time it had felt like the right thing to do, and his animal instincts had coaxed him into it.

  It had been a moment of weakness.

  One that had resulted in him rubbing his scent over almost everything in the apartment.

  Even her kettle.

  She wouldn’t be able to smell it, but the jaguar could.

  He stared Kyter down, challenging him to say something about it.

  The male stared right back, looked as if he was going to tell on him to Sherry, and then huffed and shifted his focus to her.

  “You okay?” Kyter said in a soft voice, one filled with concern and affection.

  Talon wanted to punch him for it. The bastard was making a point, twisting the knife that sat in his heart because he had failed to notice she had been down about something.

  Sherry nodded. “All good now. You were right… a shower was just the medicine I needed.”

  Talon felt like growling over that one. No. The jaguar didn’t get to solve her problems for her, not anymore. He was here now, her fated one, and it was his duty to take care of her and do those things for her. He wanted to solve her problems. He wanted to be the first to notice when she was hurting, or unhappy about something.

  He focused on her, using all of his senses to monitor her as he opened himself up for once, allowing his animal side to rise to the fore. It was dangerous, but he had to do it. He needed to be distant from it at a time when he had to stick with tradition and not shift, but he needed to be close to it even more. It would be worth the risk if it paid off and he grew closer to her.

  It was that part of him that was most in tune with her, that had recognised her as his mate, and it was that part that would be the key to winning her.

  Or losing her.

  That didn’t bear thinking about.

  He needed to keep his head and his cool if he was going to come through this meeting unscathed and with the jaguar still on his side. It was vital. If Kyter turned against him, Iolanthe and Sherry were liable to follow suit.

  He wasn’t stupid.

  He knew he needed all of them, not just Sherry. He needed the strength of Kyter and Iolanthe if he was going to somehow save those he had left behind in Archangel.

  His older brother, Byron, had always been destined to lead their pride when their parents passed on to the eternal forest, so Talon had been raised as a warrior, and a strategist, one able to view the world objectively and see fault in the propositions of his alpha and correct them so his pride would only grow stronger and continue.

  Talon had learned to apply that ability to all situations.

  He didn’t have a hope in Hell of surviving if he tried to go back to Archangel alone. So he would rely on others and work as a team with them to form a strong offence. There was strength in numbers. Any tiger knew that. Any shifter knew it.

  It was the reason they all ran in packs and prides.

  “Bleu should be here soon.” Iolanthe’s light voice shattered the silence and Kyter checked the watch on his left wrist. The elf glanced at Sherry and smiled. “I gave him your address. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” Sherry sipped her coffee and sighed, sounding as if that single taste had been Heaven for her.

  Deep inside, he purred that it had. She had experienced happiness from it, a joy that was fresh and new to him. Food was food, drink was drink. They were just basic necessities of life. Yet she felt something strong, powerful and moving, from a single drop of coffee.

  His female was an interesting one.

  He wanted to know what other foods and beverages stirred such a potent emotional response in her. He wanted to find some of his own, wanted to experience what she had.

  There was a knock at the door.

  Talon tensed and swung his gaze that way, his bare feet shifting to spread his weight as he sensed a powerful male on the other side of the wooden door and recognised his scent.

  One of the elves from Archangel.

  A weight suddenly landed on his chest, making his ribcage feel too tight, and he fought for air as he backed away on instinct. He had to leave. Had to run.

  He couldn’t let them take him again.

  Warmth circled his left wrist, gentle and light, soothing the raging need to escape, shift and run, and not stop running.

  “Talon?” Her soft voice beckoned him back to the light and he breathed hard, struggling to tamp down the urge to flee.

  To survive.

  The warmth spread to his cheek, smelled vaguely of coffee, and a hint of vanilla and honey, and gods, he couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes and rubbing that sweet palm, couldn’t get enough of the feel of it on his skin and feared it would go away, that she would take away what he needed.

  This comforting caress.

  He felt eyes on him, watching, studying, judging him, but he didn’t care. He nuzzled her palm, rubbed his mouth across it and the fronts of his fangs, unable to get enough, his need only growing with every attempt to satisfy it.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer, smoothed his cheek down her arm and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

  She gasped.

  A strong hand caught his shoulder and yanked him back. “That’s enough.”

  Talon growled and flashed his fangs at the jaguar, and barely leashed the urge to lash out at him and start a fight, one that would determine who would take care of Sherry from now on.

  It was only the thought he might frighten her, might drive her away with his violence, that stopped him.

  His gaze slid towards her, his heart expecting the worst—that he had already driven her away.

  She stood like a statue, one hand tucked against her chest and the other resting on her neck beneath her damp golden hair, covering where he had nuzzled her.

  Her wide blue eyes held his.

  No trace of fear in them. No disgust.

  Just desire.

  They were dark with it, her pupils wide black abysses of arousal, and the flush of colour on her cheeks backed them up.

  Together with her scent.

  Dear gods, he had thought she had torn down all his defences when he had heard her speak his name the first time.

  He had been wrong.

  The scent of desire mingling with her natural smell, and the need that beat in his blood through hers, had him verging on spilling in his trousers and filled him with a powerful, consuming need to satisfy her, to give her the pleasure she needed and craved.

  And bring her the bliss of release.

  It was all he wanted, all he knew. It became all of him. His female needed him.

  “Sherry, coffee,” Kyter said and she almost jumped out of her skin, her eyes leaping to him, and then she hurried away.

  Talon growled at Kyter.

  How dare he make his mate go away when she clearly needed him?

  When he needed her more than anything, more than the beat of his heart and the breath in his lungs?

  “Dial it back,” the jaguar snapped and shoved him in his bare chest, a gentle tap that shouldn’t have moved him but had his back slamming into the wooden doorframe of the bedroom.

  Dammit. He was still weak, in no position to fight with Kyter. The male would easily win, and he knew it, was using it to his advantage to assert dominance over him.

  “Didn’t see her complaining,” Talon spat and barely dodged the fist that flew at his face.

  The bastard jaguar snarled as he punched straight through the plaster wall where Talon’s head had been.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Sherry stormed into the room, grabbed Kyter by his right shoulder, and hauled him away. Sh
e kept pushing him, shoving his chest until he was on the other side of the room to Talon. When she had him backed against the wall, she planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what your problem with Talon is, but let it go. He’s hurting… he lost someone close to him… a woman… and he just wants comfort from me.”

  Like hell he just wanted comfort from her. What the fuck had given her that impression?

  “Jayna was important to him,” she whispered.

  Damned lightbulb pinged on in his head.

  He would have smiled smugly at the jaguar to show him he had figured out why Sherry had been in some sort of emotional distress when he had shown up, but it knocked him on his arse.

  She thought Jayna had been something to him.

  That he had loved her.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  He wanted to explain everything to her, but not with an audience. When they were alone again, he would set her straight and show her that she was the only female he wanted.

  “So what’s his story?” An unfamiliar tall elf male dressed in mortal clothing of black jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt jerked his head towards him.

  Talon had forgotten about him.

  He would have backed off a step if he hadn’t been plastered against the wall.

  “What’s yours?” he bit out, and the stupidly handsome male scowled at him, his violet eyes relaying just how close he was to joining Kyter in wanting to punch him.

  If Sherry so much as looked at him, Talon was in danger of losing his shit.

  What gods had been at work when they had created elves anyway? Weren’t any of them ugly?

  “My story is I have a kingdom to help run, and a date with my mate, and I would like to get back to it. I don’t see why I had to come here and talk with some rabid cat about his problems.” The male shoved his hand through his wild blue-black hair, preening it back from his face in a way that screamed of irritation, the action flashing the fact he wore black elf armour beneath his clothes.

  “Bleu.” Iolanthe’s chastising tone had a wealth of weariness in it that told Talon she was used to this sort of behaviour from her brother. When the male gave her his attention, she hit him with a scowl that made them look frighteningly similar. “Play nice.”