The Leopard King Page 21

“I wish I had the energy to tease you, but that sounds amazing. One condition, however.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t go anywhere. Having you close will do me as much good as pure rest.”

  She didn’t argue, only led him off to the curtained alcove where they had been passing out now and then, usually at opposite intervals. The grubby pillow and blanket he’d salvaged from their disaster of an apartment were a far cry from the comfort they once enjoyed, but as he reflected on that, his mate took off all her clothes. His mouth went dry.

  His expression apparently made her laugh. “It’s not what you think. Take yours off too… we’ll be more comfortable shifted.”

  That should have occurred to me first. I’ve been going cat much longer than Pru. But commonsense solutions seemed to be her superpower. In answer, he shucked his clothes, kissed her forehead, her freckled cheeks, snub nose, and finally, her lovely mouth. Unexpectedly, she deepened the kiss with a sweetness that stole his breath. She reached up to trace his features with such gentle hands that she stole his breath. Once, her eyes reminded him of winter, desolate and somehow lonesome, but now… for Dom, they held all the brightness and promise of springtime.

  I used to see her and think of Slay. But now there’s no question that she’s mine. Dom didn’t even care anymore if she should be. With a final kiss, he slid into leopard form as she went ocelot and rubbed her cheek against his, then touched their noses together. They should have done this sooner. Unlike most couples, their moments together had been driven by necessity, and the time they got to spend with each other diminished with each new disaster.

  Curled up with his mate, Dom made a silent promise, then and there. We may be backed into a corner, but this isn’t the end. For you, I’ll take on the world. And win.

  23.

  As promised, Pru only dozed while listening for potential interruptions. She safeguarded Dom for a couple of hours, but she couldn’t keep the world at bay forever. Eventually Magda came looking; she heard the security chief asking around. In case I’m ever at risk of forgetting that he doesn’t belong to me. She shifted back and shook him awake.

  “Duty calls.”

  A snow leopard leveled sleepy eyes on her, and then he stretched so gracefully that she couldn’t resist smoothing a palm down his back. That fast, she was caressing her naked mate, who dared her with his eyes to recoil or blush. Knowing she didn’t have long with him made her brave, so Pru nuzzled her face against his, much as she would if they were still in feline form.

  “Morning,” he purred.

  “It was that already when we went to sleep.”

  Outside their tent-room, Magda shuffled her feet on purpose. “I realize this is probably bad timing, but…” She trailed off with more tact than usual.

  Pru could finish the sentence in the security chief’s customary vernacular: Get your asses out here anyway. When she reached for her clothes, Dom astonished her by refusing to let go. With a muffled squeak, she toppled backward into his arms. Acutely conscious that Magda could hear everything—and everyone else probably could too—she squirmed against his hold.

  He raised his voice, clearly speaking to the other woman. “Come back in five minutes, unless there’s a brand-new fire.”

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, as Magda strode away.

  “Living on borrowed time.” He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair, as if she had the luxury of regular baths and smelling delicious on command.

  Abashed, she tried to pull away, but he only held on tighter. “This isn’t like you.”

  “It’s exactly like me. You’ll soon realize that I require regular fuel-ups to tolerate constant problems.” Dom kissed the curve of her ear with a lazy brush of his lips.

  “Please don’t tell me you run on hugs,” she said, stifling a laugh.

  “You’re cruel to mock me.”

  But she curled into his embrace, rubbing her cheek against his bare chest. Before, there had never been anyone in her heart but Slay, but in that moment, she had to admit that Dom had first carved out a small niche, and now he occupied all the space. That wasn’t part of the deal. Though she tried to remind herself it was for the good of the pride, deep down, she didn’t care about that anymore. That’s the mate bond talking, right?

  Pru sighed. “I suppose we can’t hide here forever.”

  Trying to smile, she couldn’t quite meet his gaze. All she could think about was how much he mattered, and shit, what if he realized? It would be awful and embarrassing if he thought she expected something. I can stand anything but him feeling sorry for me, or being pity-gentle. The affection he’d shown already would be enough; Pru just wished making that silent resolve didn’t hurt so damn much.

  “I’m back,” Magda called.

  Thankfully, it gave her an excuse to pull away and don her clothes. Dom kissed her quickly and then scrambled to deal with whatever else had gone wrong. As she watched his back recede, a pang echoed through her, and she knew what she had to do. It’s time. Moreover, it was too soon to check in with Sheyla, as she hadn’t been working on a fix for the Golgoth prince that long when she had so much to do otherwise. The majority of the wounded were on the mend, leaving only Latents and children with extensive recoveries.

  Outside, the hold looked better than it had only a week prior. Though visible damage still pocked the settlement—and Pru had to clamber over piles of rubble here and there—most of the exterior wall damage had been repaired. Gavriel was working hard on the last section, so people could sleep better from now on. She also spied Raff and his wolves clearing out the least-damaged residential building, so maybe soon people could start trickling back to their apartments instead of camping like refugees.

  Waving at familiar faces here and there, Pru didn’t slow until she reached the columbarium. With everything going on, she hadn’t checked… and maybe on some level, she’d been avoiding this discovery. The hundreds of memorials that made up the pride’s memories were gone, either buried or burned. For many families, this would be like losing their loved ones all over again. Pru staggered a little, realizing that in addition to her fresh bereavements, she also couldn’t visit Dalena or her mother anymore.

  But… I really need to talk to you.

  Deprived of her original goal, her steps turned aimless. At the edge of winter, the weather was warm enough not to make breathing painful, but she couldn’t waste time strolling. The problem was deciding what issue required her attention most urgently. Somehow her footsteps carried her to the building where Dalena had lived with Dominic. Since the columbarium was out of the question, maybe there was no better place to talk than where her best friend had died.

  Entering the dusty foyer sent a chill through her. So many people died here. It’s not just Dalena anymore. And though she hadn’t seen who pulled the trigger, all those deaths had been murder too. So it was impossible not to feel that weight as she navigated the dark halls. An unnatural quiet had settled, so her breathing seemed extra loud in conjunction with the scrape of her shoes. There was no need to enter Dalena’s pin because the door to their old apartment was broken. Dust motes swirled in the air as she stepped inside for the first time since she’d suggested moving to her place instead. Prince Alastor had bided here for a time, but he’d left no imprint on his surroundings. Pru’s gaze locked on the wedding portrait, now smeared and hanging crooked as if it might drop off the wall at any moment.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “It really was for the good of the pride. At first. I never meant to…” Love him. But if she said that aloud, then it would become inescapable fact and not the mate bond or hormones, or the sweetness of curling up with the same person night after night. “…take him from you.”

  That was how she finished the sentence, and it was also true. “I never coveted him,” Pru went on, trying her best to believe that. Innate honesty forced her to whisper, “I wanted what you had, I admit. Back then, I wanted it with Slay. But… not anymore.�
�

  Staring at Dalena’s smiling face, Pru crossed the room and tried to straighten the picture, but she ended up yanking the nail out of the wall. With a faint sigh, she set it on the ground.

  “I don’t know how you feel about any of this… or how I’ll face you later. Right now I’m pretending your silence means everything is all right, and that if you can’t bless me, you’ll eventually forgive me.”

  For a long moment, she hesitated, but there were only ghosts here. She turned for the door and saw Slay hovering outside, one palm flattened on the wall. How much did he hear? From his devastated expression, she suspected he had been there for a while.

  “Were you looking for me?” she asked.

  “I saw you come in, and I was worried the building might be unsafe.”

  She knocked lightly on the wall. “Seems solid enough.”

  “Yeah. Well. While I have you here… since I don’t know when we’ll talk next, given that shit is pretty crazy…” Such pauses weren’t like Slay, and he kept fidgeting too, shuffling his feet so the movement carried his face in and out of shadow. “I just want to say that I finally understand it’s over.”

  Pru stared at him. “You… what?”

  “All this time, I’ve been nursing some faint hope—that maybe you were teaching me the hardest lesson ever. But considering what I just heard… well, anyway. I’m sorry. If I’d known that sending you meant losing you, I’d have gone myself. And I would’ve taken on my whole family for the right to stand by your side. For what it’s worth, I made sure you got to the retreat safe, I even watched you mount the steps, one by one.”

  Once, this would’ve meant everything. Then it clicked. So… Slay was watching me? That’s what Dom saw? Realizing how much Slay had cared in retrospect, it tasted bittersweet.

  “All right,” she said softly. “And thank you. I’m glad we can close the book now.”

  “I won’t say it’s with no regrets. But I’ve squared things in my head, and I don’t want to strangle Dom anymore.” He managed a smile that struck her as both awkward and painful.

  Huh. His eyes don’t do anything to me now. And while I know he’s handsome, I don’t feel it like I used to, down in my bones.

  “Sounds like progress,” she said with a shadow of her old warmth.

  With that, Pru stepped past him because more talk would just open the door to pointless speculation about might-have-been. She could tell Slay wanted to ask—what if I’d done things differently? What if—

  But that never led to anything good.

  After Dom calmed a small group of pride mates who wanted to go after the Golgoth he was hiding, he joined Raff’s crew because some manual labor sounded like exactly what he needed. He had limited intel about how bad it was up north, and he couldn’t spare many men for multiple scouting runs. They’d lost too many already in that strike. While it probably struck the other leaders as cowardly, he couldn’t react in anger, leaving his people even more vulnerable.

  God, I’m tired.

  The sleep he’d snatched with Pru was only a drop in the bucket, and they were working so hard to make the hold livable that they weren’t remotely ready for a battle. The bright side was that Callum’s war bears were standing by and Princess Thalia of the Eldritch would be arriving with her honor guard sometime tomorrow, if Gavriel could be believed. That also meant more mouths to feed on reduced available provisions. Wearily, he dragged another flatbed of rubble out of the building, exchanging nods with the wolf lord as he went by.

  On the next run, he bumped Raff’s shoulder. “Thanks for staying. You didn’t have to.”

  “Your pretty mate begged,” the wolf lord said. “If I’d turned her down, she’d have gotten on her knees, and that’s not something I let another man’s woman do for me.”

  Dom balled his hand up without realizing it. Because it was Raff, the info came across filthy, but as shock trickled over him, he realized he had no fucking idea where Pru’s limits lay. She’d done so much for him—and the pride—already that he didn’t know how he’d ever repay her, even with his whole lifetime. He’d been so focused on the weight on his own shoulders that it never registered that she was silently working her ass off to carry half that burden.

  She even told you, more than once.

  Suddenly Raff laughed. “You had no idea, huh? That woman only looks soft. She’s got the Order of Saint Casimir working on the hothouses.”

  “Seriously?”

  Eyes glinting, the wolf lord shook his head in remembered amusement. “I watched the whole thing. That war priest was all like, ‘Give me battle or give me death’, and Pru pats him on shoulder and says, ‘You’d have more energy for combat if we had more to eat, wouldn’t you?’ Poor bastard turned bright red; pretty sure he’s never been that close to a woman before.”

  “She’s resourceful,” was all he could manage.

  “She’s solid gold,” Raff corrected.

  “I think… I’ll look for her.”

  “Good call. We’re losing the light soon, and my boys have drinking and gambling to catch up on.”

  “Thanks again,” Dom said.

  As he headed off, the wolf warriors trickled out of the residential hall, all sweaty and exhausted. The small mountain of broken plaster and masonry attested to Pru’s efficacy, and he couldn’t wait to see her. Words boiled in his head, and he didn’t even know which ones should take precedence. Mostly, he just had an overwhelming urge to thank her. Maybe she was sick of hearing it because he’d definitely said it before. The rest of the pride had written him off, practically rubber stamped him with NOT AS STRONG AS HE SHOULD BE, and when he first came back, he’d occasionally glimpsed surprise that he was still alive: still walking, talking, and making reasonable decisions. It sucked to know they’d considered him a lost cause.

  Fairness forced him to add, Except Slay. Dom was here in the hold, searching for Pru, because Slay had cared enough to send the woman he loved the most to achieve the impossible. He couldn’t even fathom what he could do to make things up to his second, but that quiet debt was part of why he hadn’t broached the subject of Slay’s entanglement with Lord Talfayen and the traitorous Eldritch.

  Sooner or later, I have to ask. But not now.

  Since Pru might be volunteering with the wounded, he checked out the medical center, now markedly cleaner, and the patient ward had been repaired to the point that it looked like a hospital again and less like a war camp. The staff was still overworked, however, and they rushed around him with minimal acknowledgment.

  I could get used to this.

  It made sense that she would be with her surviving family during her brief moments of leisure, so he peeked into the room that housed her Aunt Glynnis and her young cousin. At first glance, Jilly didn’t seem too badly injured, but Dom could see that her vitality had been extinguished. For reasons she couldn’t understand, she’d lost her both her parents, her uncle, and her brother still hadn’t woken up. Jase must be somewhere else, hooked up to tubes and wires. He realized then that the pride prepared too little to care for Latents and kits, focusing far too much on the abilities gained after a successful shift.

  I have to address that.

  The older woman scented him, and her head came up, but her watchful expression melted in a sad but welcoming look. “We’re not sleeping. You can come in.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner.”

  “From what Pru tells me, you’re trying to be twelve places at once as it is.”

  Before he could reply, Joss rushed into the room carrying a tray. “I know you’re tired of soup, but you have to eat, okay, sweetheart?”

  In reply, Jilly turned away from everyone else in the room, rolling to face the wall. Both her grandmother and Joss tried to get the little girl to take a few spoons, but she only shook her head and maintained an awful silence. This is the kind of emergency I never would’ve seen without Pru. It was so easy to get lost in grand gestures and the big picture, but nothing would ever be mo
re important than the pride’s smallest members.

  “Let me try,” he said.

  The women exchanged a look, but neither objected. Rather than start with a spoon, he perched on the edge of Jilly’s bed and set a hand on her back. He didn’t pet her or press, just maintained that quiet contact for a good five minutes. Since this was exactly what his mother had done when he balled up in a grievous mood, he smiled when Jilly finally rolled over to give him a dirty look.

  “What do you want?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  Since that obviously wasn’t what she expected, she sat up, preparing to argue. “Liar. Everyone wants something.”

  “All right. I want this soup. I’m really hungry.”

  “That’s mine,” she said, outraged.

  “But you’re not eating it.”

  “I am too.” She yanked it away from him and gobbled four big bites before she realized her grandmother was smiling, but hunger kicked in, and she fumed as she emptied the bowl.

  Afterward, he didn’t move from Jilly’s bedside and smoothed the hair away from her forehead. Her whole world went up when the bombs went off. Poor kid. No wonder she’s pissed. At first she made cranky faces at him, but he noticed when the ice of her anger melted into tears that trickled from the corner of her eyes.

  “You want to tell me?” he asked.

  She paused for a few seconds. “If you ask Grandy and Joss to go first.”

  “Are you reporting to me as pride master and not your cousin?”

  “Yes,” Jilly said.

  “Right then. Are you well enough to go for a walk with Joss?” he asked Glynnis.

  “Of course. I’m not even getting treatment anymore.” Her face said she was looking after Jilly because this kit needed her most.

  The two women went out and shut the door. When Jilly seemed sure they had no witnesses, she said, “I want you to punish somebody.”

  “What happened?”

  “When I was in the room with Jase and not Grandy, someone came and looked at him. Then he said…” her chin trembled, eyes overbright, “…that the rock should’ve just killed Jase, that he’ll never…”