Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

LERRIN

Lerrin shivered, breath shuddering as her lips barely traced his, the touch so light he almost questioned if it had happened. But he sucked in deep and so did she.

Then she traced her tongue along his, tilted her head and pulled him in and Lerrin groaned into her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Suhle… please… he sent. Can I touch you? I would never—

Yes.

A high, thin whine broke in his throat. Trembling with equal parts want and fear, he finally brought his shaking hands up to cup her beautiful face and took her mouth with every ounce of the love and heat he'd been trying to ignore for weeks.

His skin tingled wherever she touched him—his lips, his jaw, her hands now trailing down his back. She breathed deep and quick. Though her kiss was slow, tentative, her scent bubbled with joy—it was not threaded with fear.

Lerrin wanted to howl.

But still, he cautioned himself to take care with her. He'd seen her eyes shadow, her body tense too many times not to know that it could happen in a blink and he was determined to make sure she would want to kiss him again.

So, despite the urgent desire to gather her in, to pin her to the bed and take her, to pound his heat and love into her, he kept every touch soft and slow, every slide of his lips, every delve with his tongue—all of it gentle, tender. He kissed her not with his heat, but with his care, his awareness, his desire to protect.

And he shivered as she returned the same. Her small hands traced his shoulders, trailed down his spine, then around his sides, to climb his chest with the bare, fluttering touch of a bird's wings. And her breath got louder.

Lerrin had mated females before, but he'd never met someone who turned his mind to relationships. He had always assumed one day he would find a mate and make a den, and maybe even have pups. His parents had been extremely fertile by Anima standards and he'd hoped for the same.

But he'd never thought about who the female would be. What she'd mean, or why. He'd just… seen it in his mind. But this… this sparkling electric touch stole his breath. Made him shake. Made him want to curl into a ball with her and weep. And made him want to pull her into his arms and possess her, body and soul.

He had mated before.

He'd never felt this.

That fizz began in his veins again, twisting up his insides in a delicious spiral and feeding out through his veins to his arms, his legs, and other parts of him that he needed to ignore just then. Though it got more difficult when Suhle clawed her hands into his hair and pulled him closer, pressed in harder, her breath thundering against his cheek.

He shook—truly trembled, from head to toe. There was something within her that called to him and he couldn't resist it as everything within him tightened and unfurled at the same time, fed out through his skin, reaching for her, calling to her, a rising wave of something he couldn't describe. Not pleasure, not bliss, but a piece of himself.

And suddenly he could feel her too—through the mind link, through her skin, through her mouth that continued to dance with his, as if her blood bubbled too. As if something within her had heard him and was answering.

Suhle… he sent, though he didn't even know what he would say.

When she didn't answer immediately, he fought the urge to pull her in tighter, to demand her attention, only letting his hands trail down the outside of her arms so she was never trapped against him.

Lerrin, I…

Yes?

I need to tell you—

The sound of the two guards outside saluting and calling honor on a superior officer stopped them both cold.

Their eyes opened while their lips still met. But when he saw the horror in her gaze he released her immediately, stepping back, but not dropping her gaze.

She stood in place for a moment, staring at him, her wide, liquid eyes alarmed, yet… grieving? He wasn't sure and was about to ask when the tent flap twitched aside and Hern stepped inside, his eyes thunderous.

Suhle slipped aside as Lerrin straightened to meet the male, but it was an exercise in restraint not to follow her with his eyes, not to check that she was not fleeing from him.

"Sire," Hern snapped, "An urgent report."

"What—" Lerrin croaked, then cleared his throat. "What is it?"

Hern strode up to him, frowning slightly and looking around the tent, but then turning back to Lerrin without comment. "The prisoners," he said, his voice gruff.

"What about them?"

Hern took a deep breath. "He killed Horsche. And according to my contacts, the Bird is still being held, but under threat of the same."

Lerrin's stomach plunged to his toes. He felt Suhle tense behind him, which was impossible, but he couldn't look at her to see if he was right. What had she been about to say to him? Would this mean she wouldn't take him again? Or was this only an interruption to—

He realized he hadn't answered Hern, had left the man standing, staring at him and shook himself to clear his head. "Did Horche break?" he asked.

"No. Our account is that he refused to speak, which is why he was killed so quickly."

"And the Avaline?"

Hern growled. "We do not know whether she is talking, or the Cat is toying with her. But her life wasn't taken. Yet."

"I knew it," Lerrin muttered. "I knew the Cat couldn't control his people—all those righteous speeches about unity and the better good—"

"No, Sire. He killed Horsche. Himself. The King."

Lerrin heard Suhle gasp behind him.  He froze, his vision tunneling on Hern.

"He… what?"

****

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