For Tarun, thou
gh, he’d make himself ready.
Unable to stop himself—and not even wanting to try—he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. It was just like it felt the day before. Powerful, all consuming, fiery. His pulse raced and heat rushed through his veins as he deepened the kiss, and by the time he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily.
Pulling her in closer, he wrapped her up tightly in his arms as she snuggled in, laying her head on his chest. Nothing before had felt as amazing as that moment in time. He’d found his mate, and she was far more than he could have hoped for.
“You know what happened to Georgie isn’t your fault.”
He stiffened at her softly spoken statement. “It is. The man who assaulted her was trying to get info on me and the other Enforcers. The threat you warned about. I have every reason to feel responsible.”
“No, you don’t.” Raising her head, she met his eyes, the conviction in hers warming him from the inside out. “You had nothing to do with this. This is someone who’s hunting you and the Enforcers for his own reasons. Someone who made the decision to rough up a woman to get what he wants. You’re not responsible for his actions. You’re only responsible for your own. He did this. Not you.”
“I appreciate you saying that, but it’s harder to believe. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to. But for now, it feels like it’s all on me.”
“Do you feel it that strongly because you feel so protective of women? That’s part of it, right?”
He shrugged. “Probably, although I think I’d feel guilty to some degree no matter who it was who was assaulted—man or woman.”
“Is there a reason you worry so much about women’s safety?”
He froze, trying not to stiffen up too much at her question. It opened up a box of memories inside him that he tried to keep tightly locked up.
“Hey,” she said softly, bringing her hand up to his face and running her fingers lightly over his short beard. “It’s okay. It’s obvious there is but you don’t have to talk about it.”
Shaking his head, he gave her a last squeeze before moving to the railing, locking his arms on it as he gazed out into the twilight. “No, I think maybe it’s time I did. I haven’t ever spoken of it, but I’ve been feeling like I’ve been doing my family a disservice by keeping it all bottled up.”
Tarun moved up next to him, rubbing his back briefly before joining him in looking out into the dusk. He took a moment, trying to find the right place to start, trying to find the words. Short and sweet, or in depth.
Maybe somewhere in between.
“I was born into a lion pride. In our culture, there’s no one Alpha. The man and woman, the mates, rule jointly, together. My parents were the alphas. I had a little sister, as well. Her name was Lara, and we all doted on her. Myself, my parents, the tribe.” Stopping, he shook his head as a shaft of pain shot through his chest as he remembered her. It’d been too long since he thought of her. “When I was eleven, my father died in a freak accident. It crippled my family, but we all pushed on. My mom remained Alpha, and I know it was hard on her. She didn’t have a chance to grieve like she should have. I began my fight training that year, resolved to shoulder some of the burden. Like the War Cats, our leaders passed from generation to generation, the line remaining in the same family, unless someone was declared unfit. I wanted to be declared the alpha earlier than usual, so I could take the pressure off of my mom.
“I never got the chance. When I was twelve, we were attacked. Not the tribe—my house specifically, by another lion who wanted to rule the pride himself. I was asleep, and my mom rushed into my room, trying to be quiet. She was sobbing these unending, silent tears. She whispered that someone was in the house and I had to get out before he killed me. I said I couldn’t leave without Lara, and my mom didn’t have to say a word. I could tell by the look on her face that my sister was already gone.”
Pausing, he clenched his hands on the rail, almost splintering the wood. Tarun didn’t say a word, just reached over and placed her hand gently over his. He was grateful, but he couldn’t allow himself to look at her. He could tell by the hitch in her breathing that she was crying, and he’d never be able to finish his story if he looked at her and saw the grief he felt reflected on her face.
“At that point, I almost lost it. I didn’t want to leave, especially since I knew my mom wasn’t going to go with me. I wanted to protect her and avenge my sister. But, even though I thought I was a man and a good fighter when I was twelve, I was no match for a fully mature male lion. My mom convinced me to leave. I had a friend staying over—actually, he lived with us. He was from a pride that’d been decimated, and my parents took him in. She made him promise to make sure I got out alive, and then pushed us toward the window.
“I went fairly easily, because I might not have been a match for a mature male lion, but my mom was. She was a fierce lioness, and she could best damn near every man in the pride. But when I turned around at the edge of our property, I saw her in the window of the living room. She didn’t even try to shift and fight as the man approached her. He stabbed her, over and over, and she died. I cried out and tried to go back, but my friend clamped his hand over my mouth and drug me away. I struggled, but he was bigger and stronger than I was, so he managed it fairly easily.”
“Oh, God,” she breathed, horror clear in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Luke. So, so sorry.”
“I think she gave up. She knew I’d be taken care of, and with her mate and daughter dead, she just didn’t care enough to fight for herself.” He went quiet for a moment and Tarun ducked under one of his arms, wrapping her arms around him. “Anyway, that’s why I feel so protective over women. I wasn’t able to protect my mom or sister, but I’ll be damned if other women get hurt on my watch if I can help it.”
“I’m sorrier than words can express, Luke. I can’t imagine going through that, and your protective streak makes total sense now. I know you wanted to stay and fight, but I’m glad your friend got you out of there. Do you ever talk to him still?”
“Every day. You’ve talked to him, too.” His lips quirked as he glanced at her and caught the confused look on her face. “It was Noah.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Really? I knew he was a lion, too, but I didn’t realize y’all knew each other before you became Enforcers.”
“Yeah, we met when I was six and he came to stay with us. He’s a couple years older than me.”
He fell silent, his mind lost in the past and the memories. But they weren’t images of that fateful night, like they usually were when he thought of his childhood. They were memories of the good parts of his childhood—when his parents and Lara were still alive.
If only those were the only ones he thought of when he remembered.
Tarun stood helplessly next to Luke, still pressed up against his side. If she’d known the reason he was obsessed with women’s safety was so horrific, she would have thought twice about asking.